His other fixation is his sickly younger sister, Sofia, who nearly died after burning down the family home. Sofia was promptly shipped off by her parents to a “residence for rich children” outside the city. She later disappeared. The siblings had a symbiotic relationship and immersed themselves in bizarre imaginative games. They constructed elaborate edifices out of paper, makeshift theatrical sets for their fantasy scenarios, which they lit on fire, savoring the spectacular destruction.

Daniel is haunted by his memories of Sofia: “She has always steered my life; her ghost is in every breath of my history, in every curve, every detour,” he says. Gustavo suspects that her absence has driven Daniel to kill not just his fiancée, but possibly also two others: a mistress (also named Juliana) and a victim asphyxiated with dozens of half-decomposed pages from his books. Then again, perhaps he didn’t commit these crimes. It’s unclear whether he is tormented or blithe, pleading innocence or confessing guilt.

“I have no qualms in saying that I was more a witness than a criminal,” Daniel says. “I saw myself and remember doing the things you’re accusing me of, but I find no fault in myself. Isn’t that what they call being alienated?”

For good measure he insists, “I feel no guiltier than you, and I find nothing in me to link me to my own history.” The poet John Berryman’s deranged alter ego, Henry, from “Dream Song 29,” comes to mind, his broken syntax expressing self-exile in extremis. More directly evident, though, is the presence of Jorge Luis Borges and Roberto Bolaño, whose influence is no surprise — Mr. Faverón Patriau, the director of the Latin American studies program at Bowdoin College, is a scholar of both writers.

It’s risky to delve into the particulars of this fine book without divulging too much. Pay attention: Even the most obscure references serve as portals, yielding significant clues along the way.

“The Antiquarian” is steeped in alienation, shame, mourning and disgust. It is intelligently conceived and well executed. Rather than serve up a tantalizing mystery with a tidy resolution, this book does the opposite, demolishing the “facts” and assumptions amassed along the way. It has hundreds of intricate pieces. Once you finish reading, you may feel compelled to take it apart, figure out how it works and begin again.