THESE LETTERS END IN TEARS

A West African woman contends with her sexuality, her past, and the confines of her home.

Xaviere’s debut begins more than a decade after the primary trauma of her protagonist’s life: Bessem, a queer woman from “a part of Cameroon where nothing and no one ever gets out,” was arrested alongside her first love, Fatima, after Fatima’s bigoted brother found the two women kissing. After the arrest, Fatima disappeared, and vague rumors indicate her possible whereabouts: Maybe she was killed, or married off to a man, or ran away. Bessem has spent the years longing for Fatima: “Everyone else is just a way to pass the time until you come back,” she says. At first, Xaviere’s chapters are framed as unmailed letters Bessem has written to Fatima, a narrative device that feels unnecessary and that, in any case, Xaviere seems to lose track of as the novel progresses. Still, this is a minor complaint of a smart, finely detailed book that contends with not only sexuality, homophobia, and traditional gender roles, but also the legacy of colonialism in West Africa. Bessem is caught in an impossible double bind: Now a university professor, she is painstaking in her efforts to hide her sexuality from her colleagues. At the same time, though, Bessem is determined to find out what happened to Fatima—a quest that may put her at risk of outing herself. Unfortunately, Fatima, around whom this story spins, is never fully fleshed out in Xaviere’s telling: She is simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, and despite Bessem’s relentless passion for her, it’s difficult for the reader to fully make out Fatima’s form. Despite the fine storytelling, Fatima’s character remains blurry and unfinished.

Xaviere’s vivid and moving first novel is a resounding success despite a few flaws.