A wise, visionary debut on ecological and human resistance, perfect for fans of Amanda Gorman and Greta Thunberg, and the earth-body artwork of Ana Mendieta
The Brush is an incantatory, fearless exploration of collective trauma – and its horrific relevance in today’s Colombia, where mass killings continue. Told from the voices Pablo, Ester, and the Brush itself, Hernández-Pachón’s poem is an astounding response to a traumatic event in recent Colombian the massacre in the village of El Salado between February 16 and 21, 2000. Paramilitary forces tortured and killed sixty people, interspersing their devastating violence with music in the town square.
Pablo Rodríguez steps thirteen paces out into the night and buries a wooden box. Its a chain, a medallion, a few overexposed photographs, and finally, a deed. He burrows into the ground without knowing quite why, but with the certainty of a heavy change pressing through the air, of fear settling “like a cat in his throat.” Meanwhile, his wife Ester – a sharpshooter and keeper of all village secrets – slips into her fifth dream of the night. As Ester tosses and Pablo pats his fresh mound of earth, another character emerges in Eliana Hernández-Pachón’s vivid and prophetic triptych.
The Brush is a tangled grove, a thicket of vines, an orchid pummeled with rain. It is also an extraordinary depiction of ecological resistance, of the natural world that both endures human cruelty and lives on in spite of it.
A short collection of three poems that offer the perspective of three beings that were witnesses to a massacre in a small Colombian village early in the year 2000.
The collection begins with Pablo’s poem, detailing the sense of foreboding he begins to feel and his subsequent decision to bury a box full of belongings in the field.
Ester’s poem sees her escaping through the brush with another woman and child who have witnessed the horrors that have been committed against her neighbors and herself.
The last section provides us with the perspective of nature, the surrounding brush, and it’s process of welcoming back the bodies that have fallen. This section also includes the voices of witnesses and investigators that provide a little more concrete detail to the horrific events.
Poetry isn’t really my thing, but this being a narrative poem gave it a structure that made it more enjoyable for me. I definitely recommend giving it a read.
In the voice of the people, the investigators afterward, and the plant life of the area that sees and knows all in a different way, this is the best, most evocative and involving book about what it is to live (and not live) through a village massacre in a place the government isn't strong enough and/or doesn't bother to protect. Transcendently beautiful and deep
This was a powerful collection that forced the reader to look between the leaves and bare witness to the terrible violence at El Salado, one of the deadliest massacres of the 21st century in Colombia. We enter the poem through the voices of Ester and Pablo, a feeling and a sense of dread welling upwards as the cat leaves dead animals on the doorstep, dreams lay heavy on their minds. And when the violence comes, the Brush speaks. It is nature and therefore impartial, it will watch and wait and lay pregnant with darkness. The lushness of the brush, it's vivid blooms, thick vines, and mulchy ungrowth does nothing to stop the violence, nor does it cease to be because of it either. When the Investigators come, they are clinical and ask direct questions, the Witnesses are burdened with their memories saying 'If we open our mouths, will we be able to forget?' (34%). The violence is only remembered, never written directly, we glimpse it through the lushness of the Brush, through its leaves, through the questions of the investigators, wanting to know why there had been music, why neighbors were forced to watch, trying to lay blame and reason on something so tragic that neither blame nor reason brings justice. Excellent, poignant, and brings dignity to those suffered and are still suffering from such an event.
This was a stunning and extremely moving story in verse about a horrific massacre in early 2000s Colombia at La Salado, one of several that took place around that time, and the collective trauma of the people and the land impacted.
I was immediately drawn to Ester and Pablo and their rural life-- the small details and the tight, vivid prose really brought them to life and gave a strong sense of who they were. The author expertly crafted a mounting and palpable dread which stood out starkly against the lovely, lush landscape all around them. I really enjoyed the unexpected perspective of 'the brush' and the thought-provoking explanation at the end. I think this is really something unique and special.
This is a powerful extended poem written by a Colombian poet about the tragic massacre that happened in the small town of El Salado in February 2020 while the government looked the other way. The poet chooses to focus on one couple (Pablo and Ester) as representative of the entire village. It’s an effective way to personalize the horrible violence. ‘The Brush’, the dense forest that surrounds the village, is the third main character in the novel and serves as a sanctuary for fleeing villagers as well as a powerful living presence with its own voice in the poem.
La Mata, or The Bush, or The Brush, as translated by Robin Myers (who has provided a sturdy translation of the original), is a long form poem depicting two characters as they experience one of the worst massacres in early 20th century Colombia, The Massacre of Salado. It is a poem of voices, of unassuming witnesses. Often the only one left who can speak is naturally voiceless: the titular brush in this case. It is an effective conceit and a brilliant way to convey what she has to say about this violence.
This was such an interesting read. It was amazing how this story of trauma was told while weaving in the nature elements. This poetry collection kept me riveted as it beautifully told this horrible story of violence. I didn't know about the El Salado massacre in 2000 so I'm glad this book brought that injustice to my attention. I'm really looking forward to more from this author, I think their storytelling ability is phenomenal.
What an earthquake of a book! Both the inevitability of the village’s fate, and the massacre itself are shattering. It was fascinating to alternate between prose and poetry, as a brutal return to reality. Making nature - in the shape of the brush - as a character added to the surrealist aspect of the event, and the reader dives into denial, unable to make sense of the reasons why such violence is perpetuated against the villagers. I will be thinking of this book for quite a while.
Inventive and precise in the way it depicts both the horrors of a violent period in Colombian history and the poetic justice in forcing us, as readers, to also become witness to it. It's both active and reactive in the ways it narrates the lead-up to the massacre and the follow-up to it. To call The Brush a poetry collection isn't enough, because it veers more towards a novel-in-verse, but for anyone who perhaps enjoyed reading Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky or Be Recorder by Carmen Gimenez Smith it might feel right up their alley. Hernández Pachón is at once exacting and moving in both the prose and poetry of this book, bringing a real unreality to the experience.
Thank you to Archipelago Books and Edelweiss for the e-ARC!
This is a very short book of narrative poetry, but it packs a punch. It follows various human characters during the massacre of Indigenous villagers in El Salado, Colombia, but it also gives voice to the land through “the Brush.”
Like some other reviewers, I had to read this twice. Once not knowing fully what was happening, and then again after reading the very informative afterword, which gives a lot of historical context.
It’s a short but devastating book, and while I’m sure I missed a lot even with two read throughs, it’s very deftly done and brings attention to an event that not enough people discuss outside of Colombia.
I recommend if you like narrative poetry or books in translation that highlight historical events.
Thank you, NetGalley for this powerful translated collection, The Brush. This book depicts the massacre of El Salado in Columbia. It gives voice to the ground, to nature, as it witnesses the horror and atrocities within. The main voice here is, as the title states, the Brush. And what an interesting perspective to read. This is a powerful little story and sheds light on a time in modern history I wasn't aware of. I'm grateful for the chance to have read it
Thank you to Archipelago Books via NetGalley for providing me with this ARC! Throughout her prose I found myself drawn in by Hernández-Pachón’s beautifully executed metaphors. The characters were vivid and alive and each one of their perspectives made me feel more immersed in her writing I began reading this book anticipating a collection of poems but was pleasantly surprised by the harmony between poetry and prose. I deeply enjoyed this book and hope to read more from the author!
This was very very good and I need to read more by this author!
I didn't know this was based on a real massacre; but the way it disturbed me while reading it should have been clue enough. Unfortunately, this is all still happening in different parts of the world,
Thank you NetGalley for the chance to read and review this!
This poem/little book demonstrates exactly why reading literature and fiction about real world tragedies and violence - beautiful and moving ; I loved how the Brush was its own character as an observer and safe haven, as well as the contrast between its perspective with the excerpts from the actual investigation into the massacre
The Brush has beautiful poetry as well as an account of a massacre in Colombia told from different perspectives. I appreciated how the author used poetry and different writing styles to capture these events. (Received an e-ARC through Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.)
I read through this small book of poetry twice. Once without looking into the story behind it and once afterwards, knowing the horror of the events this narrative poem describes so calmly. Connecting it to the shocking events it was a reminder of made the hair at the back my neck stand up.
The poetry itself feels almost dreamlike, as if whatever happens exists on another plane. I found it profoundly unsettling when I read it the second time. The prose itself was beautiful. It was quite short. I am still wondering whether I wanted a bit more or whether it is just right the way it is.
To be honest, I am not quite sure how to talk about this one. It made an impression, that’s for sure. Between Pablo, Ester and the Brush, it tells a story and the truth of the story is between the lines. Beautifully done.
I am grateful that imprints like Archipelago publish smaller, yet important works like this.
An unexpectedly beautiful history lesson of a tragic event. I read it in one sitting - it's easy to do in English. Then I reread it. Then I wanted to know more. What humanity does is inhumane but nature shows us resilience.
The massacre in El Salado in 2000 has remained mostly obscure, even though the events that took place were horrifying, macabre, and inhumane. In this collection of interconnected poems, Eliana Hernández-Pachón portrayed the bloody scene in a way that requires little mention of blood.
In this book, nature speaks for the victims and against the perpetrators. The Brush humanizes and honors the survivors and victims of this horrific crime, and rebukes and questions the integrity and morals of the perpetrators (the paramilitary officers, the bystanders, the politicians, those who knew and walked away). The Brush is a grim yet powerful portrait on this tragic massacre.
It reminded me a bit of Space Invaders by Nona Fernandez, in the sense that both writers chose not to portray the horrifying, gory details, opting instead for metaphors to explain the darker aspects of the event. Personally, I think this choice is rightfully made to honor the victims as well as to not rely on "shock value" to evoke emotions; however, the imagery sometimes eluded me and left me confused.
Overall, it was an amazing read, but sometimes I could not make sense of the metaphors and imagery used, to the point that I wonder if certain words are meant for the victims or the criminals.
Thank you Edelweiss, Netgalley and Archipelago Books for the e-ARC!
A short but powerful book of poems about a state-sanctioned massacre of El Salado, a village in Colombia, in 2000. The three sections in "The Brush" focuses on, first, a couple as they prepare and finally flee the village just before the massacre happens; second, witnesses being interviewed by data-driven government or non-profit agents whose language stands at odds with the witness reports; third, the brush itself around the village, having itself been witness to many horrors through its centuries of existence.
This is the type of book where multiple readings are necessary to get the full depth of what Eliana Hernandez-Pachon is relating. I know I missed a lot the first time around, and even though it can be a difficult read for the subject matter, it is a necessary look at different aspects of state-sanctioned violence that can be used in part as a metaphor for all the current genocides that are happening around the world.
I found this poetry book available to read without needing approval first.
This was very different to the poetry books I have read, in the topics and themes. The poetry was centred around the massacre in Colombia, explaining the events. While it’s a great way to talk about historic events, it wasn’t something I knew of before reading this collection and while it was sad to read, I probably wouldn’t have read it knowing what I know now.
A disconcerting calmness rest over this sequence of poems that recount the events that unfolded in the village of El Salado, Columbia, in 2000 when 60 people were tortured and killed in front of the families and neighbours by paramilitary forces. Through the thoughts of a couple, Pablo and Ester, the moments before and after the event are imagined. Then the brush, the undergrowth, speaks in a conversation of sorts with the investigators and the witnesses. By approaching a brutal horror with such spare and delicate voices, the story told is much more deeply affecting. A longer review can be found here: https://roughghosts.com/2024/04/02/af...
Hernández-Pachón delivers a poignant and visceral response to a dark moment, the 2000 El Salado massacre. This collection is not merely poetry but a multifaceted narrative, where voices of the human and non-human converge to tell a story steeped in trauma, memory, and ecological resilience.
The book is structured in three acts, each with a distinct voice: Pablo, a villager sensing impending doom; Ester, his wife, who embodies the village's secrets and fears; and the Brush itself, a sentient landscape that has witnessed centuries of life and death. Hernández-Pachón's writing is both lush and stark, capturing the horror of the massacre through the lens of daily life, dreams, and the natural world. The massacre is depicted indirectly, through the palpable dread and the aftermath, allowing the poetry to evoke the terror without graphic detail.
The language is at once lyrical and factual, filled with metaphors that connect human suffering to the enduring, often indifferent, nature.
The Brush is a testament to poetry's power to speak to collective trauma, offering both a lament and a form of resistance. It challenges readers to reflect on the legacy of violence, not just in Colombia but wherever human rights are trampled by painting a picture where even the ground beneath our feet has stories to tell. A haunting, unforgettable work.