This is a stirring, lived-in novel of struggles both personal and societal.
The moving story of a family in rural Brazil.
This novel begins tightly focused on a family unit and gradually expands its scope to take on broader questions of race and class. Each of its three parts has a different narrator, with sisters Bibiana and Belonísia handling the first two. Bibiana is older by a year, and when the two are 7 and 6, curiosity leads them to taste the blade of a knife—at which point Belonísia winds up losing most of her tongue. From then on, Bibiana describes the sisters as “sharing the same tongue to make the words that revealed what we needed to become.” Eventually, Bibiana gets pregnant and leaves home; not long after, her sister becomes the focus of the narrative. Belonísia’s husband, Tobias, has a penchant for drunken behavior, which ends badly for him. “My mother’s happy marriage, or my sister’s—these seemed the exceptions,” Belonísia notes. Gradually, the challenges faced by the sisters’ family as they work as farmers come more into focus, leaving them at the mercy of the elements: “The drought had just ended, now we’d suffer the ruin of the flood.” The novel’s third section is narrated by a kind of bodiless saint, Santa Rita the Fisherwoman—which in practice amounts to mostly omniscient narration with a few choice asides: “My horse has died, so I cannot go forth mounted as I should, the way an encantada should present herself to human beings, the way she should reveal herself in this world.” The plantation where the sisters work changes hands, and Bibiana ponders taking on a leadership role in the community much like her late husband. Among the laudable feats Vieira Junior accomplishes in this novel is the way it gradually moves from a highly specific story to one with implications for a region's entire working class. In a book that often concerns itself with voices both singular and collective, it's a stirring progression.
This is a stirring, lived-in novel of struggles both personal and societal.Pub Date: June 27, 2023
ISBN: 9781839766404
Page Count: 288
Publisher: Verso
Review Posted Online: May 9, 2023
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 1, 2023
BOOK REVIEW
An affecting portrait of a prickly woman.
A lifetime’s worth of letters combine to portray a singular character.
Sybil Van Antwerp, a cantankerous but exceedingly well-mannered septuagenarian, is the titular correspondent in Evans’ debut novel. Sybil has retired from a beloved job as chief clerk to a judge with whom she had previously been in private legal practice. She is the divorced mother of two living adult children and one who died when he was 8. She is a reader of novels, a gardener, and a keen observer of human nature. But the most distinguishing thing about Sybil is her lifelong practice of letter writing. As advancing vision problems threaten Sybil’s carefully constructed way of life—in which letters take the place of personal contact and engagement—she must reckon with unaddressed issues from her past that threaten the house of cards (letters, really) she has built around herself. Sybil’s relationships are gradually revealed in the series of letters sent to and received from, among others, her brother, sister-in-law, children, former work associates, and, intriguingly, literary icons including Joan Didion and Larry McMurtry. Perhaps most affecting is the series of missives Sybil writes but never mails to a shadowy figure from her past. Thoughtful musings on the value and immortal quality of letters and the written word populate one of Sybil’s notes to a young correspondent while other messages are laugh-out-loud funny, tinged with her characteristic blunt tartness. Evans has created a brusque and quirky yet endearing main character with no shortage of opinions and advice for others but who fails to excavate the knotty difficulties of her own life. As Sybil grows into a delayed self-awareness, her letters serve as a chronicle of fitful growth.
An affecting portrait of a prickly woman.Pub Date: May 6, 2025
ISBN: 9780593798430
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Crown
Review Posted Online: Feb. 15, 2025
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2025
I Who Have Never Known Men ($22.00; May 1997; 224 pp.; 1-888363-43-6): In this futuristic fantasy (which is immediately reminiscent of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale), the nameless narrator passes from her adolescent captivity among women who are kept in underground cages following some unspecified global catastrophe, to a life as, apparently, the last woman on earth. The material is stretched thin, but Harpman's eye for detail and command of tone (effectively translated from the French original) give powerful credibility to her portrayal of a human tabula rasa gradually acquiring a fragmentary comprehension of the phenomena of life and loving, and a moving plangency to her muted cri de coeur (``I am the sterile offspring of a race about which I know nothing, not even whether it has become extinct'').
Pub Date: May 1, 1997
ISBN: 1-888363-43-6
Page Count: 224
Publisher: N/A
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 1997
BOOK REVIEW
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