Nora Strejilevich was a young woman when her brother and other family members and friends disappeared at the hands of the military junta that held power in Argentina from 1976 to 1983. Ostensibly part of a systematic campaign to eliminate left-wing terrorism, the violence perpetrated by the junta far exceeded anything the leftists ever dreamed of, enveloping not only the violent left but other dissidents and innocent civilians as well, and particularly targeting the Jewish population. A desaparecida herself, Strejilevich survived kidnapping and torture to speak of her experience with a dignified voice and a clear-eyed realism that extends from one end of the political spectrum to the other. In the first English translation of her elegant fictional memoir Una sola muerte numerosa , Strejilevich combines autobiography, documentary journalism, fiction, magical realism, and poetry to express the "choir of voices" of the more than 30,000 souls who were imprisoned and abused. She engages the reader in the history of a bloody military coup and state-sanctioned anti-Semitism, exploring themes of exile, identity, and violence. Above all, A Single, Numberless Death is Nora Strejilevich’s gripping story of survival.
Incredibly touching testimony, and I heavily recommend it. It doesn't follow a linear plot, but that also serves the story. It raises a lot of questions about the patriarchy, identity, the role of memory, and cultural amnesia. One of my favorites!
The author Nora Strejilevich was one of thousands kidnapped during Argentina's dirty war. She was taken to a secret concentration camp and for some reason was eventually released.
It's estimated that there are 300,000 desaparecidos (disapeared) whose bodies have never been recovered. When Nora fled her country she began to speak out and inform world leaders exactly what was happening in Argentina: political genocide.
How do you say you 'like' this book that fills the mind with images of horror that the author experienced at the hands of the military? How do you 'like' a story that continues its horror to present day? This story reads like flowing water -- so lyrical, so beautifully written. It is a startling contrast to the story itself with its pain and terror. This one will stay with me a long time.
"bloquearon los caminos de la investigación de hechos concretos...¿Por qué la destrucción de los cuerpos?... Los cadáveres sin nombre, sin identidad, impulsando a la psicosis por la imposibilidad de saber acerca del destino individual, concreto, que le tocó en suerte al ser querido...".
Nora strejilevich fue secuestrada en 1977 y estuvo detenida en el Club Atlético al mismo tiempo que su hermano Gerardo, su novia, y sus primos a dia de hoy desaparecidos. Este libro es un coro de voces, ese que se resiste al monólogo armado, ese que transformó tanta vida en una sola muerte numerosa. Voces que hablan de la pérdida, el dolor y el desgarro, sobre el pasado y como afrontar el presente. La propia Nora sobreviviente de un campo de concentración durante la dictadura militar nos trae un ejercicio de memoria bellísimo y obvio doloroso a partes iguale. Ejercicio de memoria necesario en un mundo colapsado de datos para no olvidar la barbarie, para no repetirla. Os dejo lo que me deje este espacio con algunas de esas voces encadenadas: me vendaron los ojos al igual que a mi hija /los presos golpean y los policías paran, en realidad no sabemos quién es usted/horrendos los electrodos en los dientes parece que un trueno te hace volar la cabeza/la plaza es el lugar más fuerte de protesta que hay/¡Apunten! Y nosotras respondimos ¡Fuego!/ya no se trataba de buscar al propio hijo sino a todos. Se socializa la maternidad/es tremendo comprobar que somos números anónimos/queremos rescatar vidas, sacárselas a ellos/ uno siente que nadie sabe donde uno está/
This book didn’t just bruise — it carved itself into my ribcage like it wanted to live there rent-free. It’s a memoir, it’s poetry, it’s trauma put through a prism and refracted into something jagged and shimmering.
Nora Strejilevich writes like she’s slicing open memory with a scalpel. Every sentence feels precise, surgical, but also unbearably human — like she’s trying to tell the truth while knowing truth itself has teeth.
It’s short but it hits like standing in front of a freight train. You don’t just read it — you sit with it, and then it sits with you, and then suddenly you’re in a quiet room thinking about history and survival and the elasticity of the human spirit like you’re in a graduate seminar against your will.
Five stars not because it was beautiful — though it is — but because it was necessary.
What's better than this book is hearing the author speak about her progression of writing it. My class got to speak with Nora a few weeks ago, and it's amazing how her sole purpose of writing this book was to give a voice to the voiceless. For what she's gone through, she's a very optimistic woman!!