The Witness, By Juan José Saer

Those who are new to Juan José Saer's prose are in for a treat. This beautifully carved novella by the Argentinian-born writer, who died four years ago, is a mini masterpiece. It traces the journey of a nameless 16th-century cabin boy from Spain to the New World, and at its heart is the darkness of cannibalism: when their ship arrives on an island, the boy's fellow sailors and captain are all killed. Their bodies are taken back to the islanders' camp, skinned and eaten – the start of a ceremony that leads to drunkenness, sexual orgies and eventually, for some of the participants, illness and death. The boy is allowed to leave the island 10 years later, but by then has forgotten his own language and can only communicate in the grunts and gestures of the primitive islanders with whom he has spent so much time.

José Saer draws parallels between the so-called "civilised" world and an ancient, more primitive one, to cast doubt upon the values of Renaissance Europe that we have inherited. It is a spell-binding, provocative and disturbing read.