Witches
Witches is an absolutely beautifully written (and translated!) novel told in alternating POVs. I was more engaged with the first half than the second, but still enjoyed it overall.
Author: Brenda Lozano, translated by Heather Cleary
Publisher: Catapult
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Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
The beguiling story of a young journalist whose investigation of a murder leads her to the most legendary healer in all of Mexico, from one of the most prominent voices of a new generation of Latin American writers
Paloma is dead. But before she was murdered, before she was even Paloma, she was a traditional healer named Gaspar. Before she was murdered, she taught her cousin Feliciana the secrets of the ceremonies known as veladas, and about the Language and the Book that unlock their secrets.
Sent to report on Paloma's murder, Zoe meets Feliciana in the mountain village of San Felipe. There, the two women's lives twist around each other in a danse macabre. Feliciana tells Zoe the story of her struggle to become an accepted healer in her community, and Zoe begins to understand the hidden history of her own experience as a woman, finding her way in a hostile environment shaped by and for men.
Weaving together two parallel narratives that mirror and refract one another, this extraordinary novel envisions the healer as storyteller and the writer as healer, and offers a generous and nuanced understanding of a world that can be at turns violent and exultant, cruel and full of hope.
TL;DR Review
Witches is an absolutely beautifully written (and translated!) novel told in alternating POVs. I was more engaged with the first half than the second, but still enjoyed it overall.
For you if: You like translated novels, and those that examine gender and Indigenous issues.
Full Review
Thank you, Catapult, for sending me a copy of Witches! I’m slowly making my way into more translated literature, and I was drawn in by the synopsis right away. Verdict: This book is absolutely beautifully written (and translated!). I was a bit more engaged with the first half than the second (although I got very busy so that was almost certainly a ME thing), but I think it was a great literary fiction choice for October.
The novel is told in alternating POVs — one of Feliciana, an Indigenous Oaxacan healer (curandera); and one of Zoe, a reporter who lives in Mexico City. Feliciana’s cousin, Paloma, who is a third gender recognized by her people called Muxe and taught Feliciana everything she knows of being a curandera, has been killed. Zoe travels to interview her about it — but ends up much more changed than she ever expected.
The most noteworthy part of this novel is the language, which speaks to Brenda Lozano’s original as well as Heather Cleary’s translation. I loved Feliciana’s voice, and how Cleary seems to have preserved her looping, lyrical cadence. The whole book is very immersive and culturally rich, even in translation.
I also loved the alternating POV structure. This is one of those books where it really does the work a favor, from a craft perspective. Each narrative needs the other, plays off the other, builds off the other, until we have something greater than the sum of the parts. The story deals with sisterhood, gender and gender roles, tradition vs modernity, Indigenous vs western approaches to life and thought, and above all, the power of the stories inherent to us and how they shape our bodies and lives.
If you’re looking to read more novels translated from Spanish, or if you just love books that feel the tiniest bit witchy, give this one a shot.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Homophobia
Transphobia
Sexual assault
Murder/hate crime
Seven Empty Houses
Seven Empty Houses is a powerful, slim set of translated stories that take a common motif (the house) and use it to pack a fresh-feeling punch. I liked it very much.
Author: Samanta Schweblin, translated by Megan McDowell
Publisher: Riverhead Books
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
A blazing new story collection that will make you feel like the house is collapsing in on you, from the 3 time International Booker Prize finalist, "lead[ing] a vanguard of Latin American writers forging their own 21st-century canon." —O, the Oprah magazine
The seven houses in these seven stories are empty. Some are devoid of love or life or furniture, of people or the truth or of memories. But in Samanta Schweblin's tense, visionary tales, something always creeps back in: a ghost, a fight, trespassers, a list of things to do before you die, a child's first encounter with a dark choice or the fallibility of parents.
This was the collection that established Samanta Schweblin at the forefront of a new generation of Latin American writers. And now in English it will push her cult status to new heights. Seven Empty Houses is an entrypoint into a fiercely original mind, and a slingshot into Schweblin's destablizing, exhilarating literary world.
In each story, the twists and turns will unnerve and surprise: Schweblin never takes the expected path and instead digs under the skin and reveals uncomfortable truths about our sense of home, of belonging, and of the fragility of our connections with others. This is a masterwork from one of our most brilliant writers.
TL;DR Review
Seven Empty Houses is a powerful, slim set of translated stories that take a common motif (the house) and use it to pack a fresh-feeling punch. I liked it very much.
For you if: You like short stories with an acutely unsettling vibe.
Full Review
Thank you, Riverhead, for the advanced copy! This book is out in the US on 11/18.
I've always meant to read Samanta Schweblin, and now I’m very glad to say that I have (and really enjoyed the experience). Seven Empty Houses is a set of short stories originally published in Spanish in 2015 and now translated into English by Megan McDowell. As of this writing, it’s also a finalist for the National Book Award for translated literature.
While “seven empty houses” isn’t a literal description of these stories, as you might expect, there are seven of them. Each one also calls to mind an absence of some sort and a sense (or lack) of home. They explore loss and grief, the definition of home (especially as a traditionally feminine place). And while they aren’t linked, they felt like they easily could have been, especially given some recurring motifs (a love of washing dishes, a lost child, etc).
The stories are written quietly and economically; they also feel like empty houses themselves, with a consistent unsettled, foreboding tone. They were impressive from both a writing and a translation perspective. I really enjoyed so many of them. There is one story that’s much longer than the others that I struggled with in the middle, but ultimately the wait paid off emotionally at the end and I loved that one too.
If you’re a fan of translated literature, short stories, or writing with a disquieting vibe, pick this one up.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Dementia (first-person perspective depicted)
Death of a spouse
Death of a child
Grief
Tomb of Sand
Tomb of Sand, translated to English from the Hindi, is a masterpiece of both storytelling and translation. I’ve simply never read anything like it.
Author: Geetanjali Shree, translated from the Hindi by Daisy Rockwell
Publisher: Tilted Axis Press
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Note: This book is not yet published in the US. Click above to buy this book from my Blackwells, a bookstore in the UK that ships to the US for free (and isn’t affiliated with Amazon, unlike Book Depository and others).
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
An eighty-year-old woman slips into a deep depression at the death of her husband, then resurfaces to gain a new lease on life. Her determination to fly in the face of convention – including striking up a friendship with a hijra (trans) woman – confuses her bohemian daughter, who is used to thinking of herself as the more 'modern' of the two.
At the older woman's insistence they travel back to Pakistan, simultaneously confronting the unresolved trauma of her teenage experiences of Partition, and re-evaluating what it means to be a mother, a daughter, a woman, a feminist.
Rather than respond to tragedy with seriousness, Geetanjali Shree's playful tone and exuberant wordplay results in a book that is engaging, funny, and utterly original, at the same time as being an urgent and timely protest against the destructive impact of borders and boundaries, whether between religions, countries, or genders.
TL;DR Review
Tomb of Sand, translated to English from the Hindi, is a masterpiece of both storytelling and translation. I’ve simply never read anything like it.
For you if: You love language, are OK with feeling unmoored while reading, and aren’t afraid of a challenge that’s very much worth it.
Full Review
“Once you’ve got women and a border, a story can write itself. Even women on their own are enough. Women are stories in themselves, full of stirrings and whisperings that float on the wind, that bend with each blade of grass.”
Whew, where to start with this one? While Tomb of Sand isn’t going to be quite right for every reader, there’s simply no denying that it’s a masterpiece of both storytelling and — as for Daisy Rockwell’s English from the Hindi — translation. It’s also unlike anything I’ve ever read before, which was both exciting and challenging. I’m so glad it won the International Booker Prize, prompting so many of my friends to read it and recommend it to me over and over.
Told in three parts, the book is about the matriarch of a family in India and her daughter. In part 1, Ma grieves the death of her husband and won’t get out of bed. In part 2, she moves in with Beti and deepens her friendship with a hijra (trans) woman named Rosie. In part 3, Ma and Beti travel abroad and we come to realize just how much about her we did not know.
As I said, this book challenges the reader — at least, it will challenge Western readers (which I think is a very good thing, tbh). It asks us for patience and trust, looping and playing and experimenting and waxing and taking every shape but a linear one. The narrator’s voice reminds me of a capering jester, and reading it feels like you’re flying on the wind that moves around, above, and between everyone and everything. The wordplay is joyful and begs you to admire the care Rockwell took with this translation. There were, admittedly, parts where I zoned out a bit, allowing myself to just be carried along — but honestly, I think that also felt like kind of the point.
This book is for those who love language for language’s sake, and for those who are interested in exploring themes like borders (physical, imagined, cultural, of the self), family structure, nature, and joy itself. (It won’t be for those who prefer things to be relatively straightforward, or feel uncomfortable when unmoored, or prefer a book carried by plot.)
I was moved, provoked, impressed. And so very glad I read this one.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Death and grief
Transphobia
Murder (off screen)
War violence