Umami

'Ms Jufresa: Where the f*#! did you learn to tell a story so well?'

'A lovely novel about family, friendship and community that is told through multiple points of view from people living in a small development in Mexico City. The range in characters from the recently widowed landlord, to the twenty year old “spinster” struggling to eat, to the girl building a milpa whose sister recently passed, all beautifully ties together through community, allowing for the exploration of many kinds of grief.’

‘Umami is a debut novel that I am afraid has been criminally under-read, a slim book about community and loss that somehow doesn't feel as heavy as it could. Told from multiple perspectives within a building complex in Mexico City, it feels as if the early chapters are short stories with little in common, but Laia Jufresa magically layers them on top of each other, illuminating the secret sorrows that connect them all. It's beautifully translated by Sophie Hughes, a tall order because of the different kinds of language all of the characters use. In the end, Umami isn’t resolved in the ways a traditional novel would be – but it's satisfying and moving.’

‘Umami is narrated by a child – a very, very funny child – as she grapples with the death of her sister. The novel expands to the lives of her neighbors in Mexico City, and something very special happens as their stories begin to intersect and merge. File this under the "makes-you-a-better-person" heading.’

‘Jufresa's evocative portrait of contemporary Mexico blends whimsy with poignancy. Guaranteed to challenge and move you.’

‘Umami offers the enticing prospect of a vast and filthy megalopolis being opened up’.

'Umami is true to its whimsical premise, the narrative a little sweet, a little salty, by turns bitter and sour. Very umami, and very funny at times despite the tragedies that mark each household. The setup could admittedly become tired over 250-plus pages, but Jufresa also works an innovative structure that leaves the reader questioning until the end.’

‘In Umami, language itself is a character. The talents of Sophie Hughes are displayed in Marina’s constant wordplay which comes alive in her sensitive and playful translation. Jufresa’s talent for neologism and her inventive structure give the novel a lightness of touch that never undermines its revelations, but rather enhances them.’

'This book is such a gentle and sensitive deep dive into the cycles of mourning and loss out of which families are made and unmade, terrifying and uncanny, without ever losing sight of the daily banalities of hearth and home and love. Cooked to perfection, ready to serve.’ 

‘Grief, though, is neither defined by culture nor constrained by time. Yes, Jufresa could have written Umami the “normal” way – a single perspective in chronological order with first person the whole way through – instead of this backwards telescope, alternating voices and switching perspectives between first and close third. That version of Umami would be a dark, bitter thing, like molasses in the coffee grounds. Instead, Jufresa and Hughes offer a version that is complex without weight, a saffron purée. Dynamic and delicate, Umami draws our attention without pretense.’

‘Jufresa directly appeals to any reader who was once a 12-year-old girl obsessed with Agatha Christie (*cough* me), but also, and truly, this is a gorgeous book that meditates on loss and grief, healing and redemption, and also offers an enchanting look into life in contemporary Mexico.’ 

‘A tale of five lives in one block in Mexico City’s inner city – in a complex designed with human tastebuds in mind – this sad and funny novel has already snagged awards, and was dubbed an “international hot property” by PW when the English rights were sold.’