Dengue Boy

After the last Antarctic icecaps melt, calamity follows. Landscapes are radically transformed, diseases mutate and spread with unprecedented speed, and, in response, forms the ghastly “virofinance” exchange—a market for corporations to profit from pandemics and global suffering.

It’s in this grim near-future of 2272, where words such as “winter” and “cold” have no meaning, the Dengue Child grows.

The monstrous humanoid mosquito emerges in newly tropical Argentina, carrying its namesake virus and despairing of its own existence. Bullies brutalize the child until a violent eruption of revelation and transformation takes place, shockwaves of which will extend far beyond the schoolyard into a society full of terrors and wonders enabled and exposed by climate collapse.

Powerful telepathic stones from the bowels of the earth, sought after by smugglers, seem to hold a volatile, primordial wisdom. The meager remaining glaciers are harvested for skating rinks on luxury cruises. And the youth obsess over an immersive, addictive video game that presents a virtual world far more attractive than reality.

In the tradition of Kafka, Cronenberg, and Philip K. Dick, Michel Nieva's brilliant, hilarious, and demented Dengue Boy draws on manga, body horror, and gaucho-punk science fiction to tell a delirious, frenetic, singular story about the ravages of capitalism and what hope might exist, if any, for revenge and rebirth.