Inspired, in part, by Moira McCavana’s own family history in Bilbao, these inventive short stories inhabit the Spanish Basque Country in the fifty years following the Spanish Civil War.
“In Guernica, there isn’t a tree, on the outskirts of town, from whose gnarled arms dangle felt berets. The hats are not a range of colors—they are not blue, cream, maroon, brown, orange, violet, or green. The hats did not begin as buds, as specks of folded felt that uncurled as the tree developed from a sapling, and matured.” So begins the opening story of Electrodomésticos, the debut collection from Moira McCavana. In these stories, characters struggle with allegiances both political and personal, their attempts at independence coinciding with the region’s growing nationalist fervor. Exquisitely attuned to the nuances of familial and cultural history, and beautifully blending pastoral and historical sensibilities, Electrodomésticos is a stunning debut about place, language, and identity, from a promising new voice.
This is my first book in this area so I was really intrigued on its episodic make up. All the stories were written descriptively along with the characters. However, it all felt a bit flat at points. Some stories went well and were good reads, but others felt like a procession of words that didn't excite or interest me as much. Nonetheless, this is a documentation of life during a tumultuous time in Spain so my rating can only be held with the same fervor as holding sand.
Some stories caught my interest while others I got a bit lost in. I receive the book as a gift, so not something I would typically read but still interesting and about a period and place I knew less about.
I loved "Flock" and "Sirens, 1985," but I wish I connected to the other stories as much. Maybe the others were doomed by how much I enjoyed those two. The rest of the stories just didn't engage me nearly as much, though I'll note McCavana is clearly a talented writer.