José Donoso’s collection of three novellas (published in Spanish in 1973 and in English translation in 1977) satirizing the pretentious attitudes and aspirations of Barcelona’s hip young professional bourgeoisie is a classic of whimsical, self-conscious magic realism. In “Chattanooga Choo-Choo,” the aesthetically flawless surface of Ramón and Sylvia’s marriage is disturbed by a new friendship with another couple. This is a world where men control women, dismantle and manipulate them like dolls for their pleasure. But before the end of the tale, Sylvia and her new friend Magdalena have turned the tables on their husbands, broken free of the confining role that society has assigned them and asserted their independence. In “Green Atom Number Five,” well-off childless couple Roberto and Marta have achieved the pinnacle of material success by moving into the ideal apartment and filling it with their things. Once installed however, they find themselves frighteningly subservient to the possessions they have accumulated throughout their marriage, which begin to walk out the door while they stand by and watch, powerless to do anything about it. Blaming each other for what is happening, they set out in pursuit of what has gone missing, but instead lose their way altogether. And in “Gaspard de la Nuit,” Sylvia (a professional model) is bewildered and stymied by the odd behaviour of her teenage son Mauricio, who normally lives in Madrid with her ex-husband but who is staying with her in Barcelona for the summer. Sylvia approaches the boy with offers of gifts and food and trips to the beach, which he refuses. When she fawns over him, Mauricio slinks out of her reach. His sole obsession is the complex and melodically elusive Ravel piano piece from which the story gets its title. Mauricio, who confronts the world wrapped in an impenetrable cloak of sadness, prefers to spend his time alone, walking the unfamiliar Barcelona streets whistling and seeking connection with other pedestrians through Ravel’s music. His loneliness reaches its crescendo when he discovers his double (a homeless boy) in a public park, and the two connect in a way that changes the direction of both their lives. Sacred Families is an excellent introduction to the high-spirited and eccentric social and political comedy that emerged in Latin America during the 1960s and 1970s. By turns funny, shocking and perplexing, these novellas are loosely plotted and sometimes illogical, but also endlessly imaginative, deviously unpredictable, and delightfully subversive. ( )