It’s a wonderfully creepy and authentically different example of Modern Weird.... Barba’s prose relies heavily on rich and poignant aphorisms from its sensitive and self-doubting narrator. I could quote endlessly, but a few will have to suffice. “Certain words possess a viciousness that can linger for years, biding its time, before seeking us out again, as intense as when we first spoke them.” “Loss of trust is similar to heartbreak. Both lay bare some internal wound, both make us feel older than we are.” “Chronicles and narratives are like maps. On the one hand, you have the bold solid colors of the continents—collective episodes that everyone remembers—and on the other, the depths of private emotions, the oceans.” They lend philosophical depth to the action. And Barba’s precision in describing the weather of the psyche—both the narrator’s and those of the populace and the wild children—takes the reader on a rollercoaster of feeling....Ultimately, Barba proclaims, we all move through enforced patterns toward unknown fates.

The book follows in a long tradition of blending the genres of crime thriller and novel of ideas, but in this case what should be hybrid and fluid comes off as formally indecisive. ... Barba has displayed an enviable gift for conveying, through an inventively abstract style, the strange worlds of childhood and early adolescence. The voice of this novel, precisely translated by Lisa Dillman, may have gained more traction if it had been channeled through one of its many children. As it stands, “A Luminous Republic” reads too often like a middling civil servant’s report: underlined by good intentions and promising themes, but ultimately unenlightening.

Magical realist fiction has taught writers that a no-nonsense attitude toward fantastical elements preempts a reader’s disbelief. Such an approach grants weight to the occurrence, grounding an unlikely event in the language of real-world reportage, which is especially appropriate for a short narrative that doesn’t really include much else besides.... And that’s the thing about A Luminous Republic: its melancholic mood and contemplative tone are interesting, engaging, and lovely to read. Barba is clearly a gifted writer with a generous sensibility. So although the characters aren’t as well developed as its premise, it remains a novel that thoughtfully and compassionately considers people and as a result feels utterly human as a whole.

Wild children upend a city on the edge of the jungle in this lyrical, chilling novel from Barba (Such Small Hands).... The civil servant’s guilt and ongoing perplexity over what happened sharpens the impact of Barba’s spare, philosophical narrative. This frightening picture of the strangeness of childhood will endure.