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Hai portato con te il vento
Cocuán è un paesino battuto dal vento freddo delle Ande e sul punto di essere cancellato dalla memoria. Lì vive Mildred Capa, una giovane che alleva maiali al limitare del bosco. In seguito alla prematura morte della madre e alla scomparsa del padre, Mildred viene depredata della casa e dei terreni e rinchiusa dal parroco in un monastero finché di lei non si perdono le tracce. Anni dopo, una serie di sparizioni, episodi di follia collettiva e strani avvenimenti sconvolgeranno Cocuán e, gettando oscuri presagi, rievocheranno nei suoi abitanti la leggenda della vecchia Mildred. Alternando le voci di nove personaggi, Natalia García Freire dà vita a un racconto gotico e suggestivo, in cui il confine fra sogno e realtà si fa sempre più labile.
132 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2022
42 people are currently reading
2008 people want to read
About the author
Natalia García Freire
7 books106 followersEscritora ecuatoriana (Cuenca, 1991). Reside en Madrid, España. Cursa el máster de narrativa en la Escuela de Escritores. Estudió comunicación y trabajó como periodista de viajes en Ecuador con la revista Ñan. Como periodista freelance ha colaborado con Univisión, diario El Hoy, revista Plan V, diario El Mercurio, CityLab Latino y BG Magazine, entre otros medios, con artículos de cultura, viajes, perfiles y crónicas.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 161 reviews
February 19, 2025
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction + Magical Realism
This is the story of a desolate, fictitious town called Cocuán. After her mother’s death, Mildred loses everything she cherished in this town: her home, animals, and life. Her story becomes a legend that will haunt this town and its residents. Has Mildred returned to bring revenge and death? To know this, you have to explore the book yourself.
The story is told from the perspective of nine characters! Yes, at first I thought this number was a big one for such a short book, but honestly, I didn’t feel it was a problematic thing despite disliking multiple POVs in general. Somehow the author was successful in implementing all these perspectives without creating lots of distractions from the main theme of the story.
The beautiful thing about this book is that everything is blurred between reality and dream. It becomes difficult to know what is true and what is not. This quality made the atmosphere of the story very hypnotic and deeply immersive at the same time.
With nine characters involved, you can’t avoid feeling that some characters have better character growth than others, or you might prefer some character’s narratives more than others. So comparison and favoritism are something you cannot avoid.
Give this book a try if you're in the mood for something a little dark and emotional. If you enjoy stories in which the line between reality and imagination is blurred, this one is definitely one to check out.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.
Genre: Literary Fiction + Magical Realism
This is the story of a desolate, fictitious town called Cocuán. After her mother’s death, Mildred loses everything she cherished in this town: her home, animals, and life. Her story becomes a legend that will haunt this town and its residents. Has Mildred returned to bring revenge and death? To know this, you have to explore the book yourself.
The story is told from the perspective of nine characters! Yes, at first I thought this number was a big one for such a short book, but honestly, I didn’t feel it was a problematic thing despite disliking multiple POVs in general. Somehow the author was successful in implementing all these perspectives without creating lots of distractions from the main theme of the story.
The beautiful thing about this book is that everything is blurred between reality and dream. It becomes difficult to know what is true and what is not. This quality made the atmosphere of the story very hypnotic and deeply immersive at the same time.
With nine characters involved, you can’t avoid feeling that some characters have better character growth than others, or you might prefer some character’s narratives more than others. So comparison and favoritism are something you cannot avoid.
Give this book a try if you're in the mood for something a little dark and emotional. If you enjoy stories in which the line between reality and imagination is blurred, this one is definitely one to check out.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.
May 10, 2022
Qué escritura tan bonita, tan sentida; un conjuro apalabrado, creado a partir de tierra roja y polvo cósmico. Qué lenguaje tan vegetal y animal, parido en las entrañas del bosque; combustible del fuego que purifica y destruye: «hablar por fin un lenguaje más antiguo que la palabra, el lenguaje de las estrellas y la luz que hace vibrar al cuerpo y trastorna la carne».
Cocuán me recordó mucho a Comala, pueblito lejano, olvidado y lleno de polvo, que no figura en ningún mapa y esconde en sí mismo su destrucción, «aquí yace el pueblo de Diosmadre que desapareció una noche. Por los siglos de los siglos».
Me empapé del imaginario y misticismo de la montaña, de las plantas que crecen en la medida en que se habla, del aire cálido que trae voces, vida y muerte. Aúllo con los personajes porque es imposible salir de estas páginas sin transformarse, sin entender el lenguaje del viento y oler a pájaros.
«La palabra coagulada es palabra de Diosmadre, la palabra sucia, rumiada, la palabra del tonto que está hecha de sangre y mierda. El tiempo de Diosmadre no es sagrado, es la lengua común que un dios arrancó de la tierra, lengua muerta y olvidada».
Cocuán me recordó mucho a Comala, pueblito lejano, olvidado y lleno de polvo, que no figura en ningún mapa y esconde en sí mismo su destrucción, «aquí yace el pueblo de Diosmadre que desapareció una noche. Por los siglos de los siglos».
Me empapé del imaginario y misticismo de la montaña, de las plantas que crecen en la medida en que se habla, del aire cálido que trae voces, vida y muerte. Aúllo con los personajes porque es imposible salir de estas páginas sin transformarse, sin entender el lenguaje del viento y oler a pájaros.
«La palabra coagulada es palabra de Diosmadre, la palabra sucia, rumiada, la palabra del tonto que está hecha de sangre y mierda. El tiempo de Diosmadre no es sagrado, es la lengua común que un dios arrancó de la tierra, lengua muerta y olvidada».
July 22, 2023
Cocuán, el lugar de los tontos. De los atónitos -que sería lo mismo- como dice el cura Santamaría, de los que se quedaron enmudecidos y paralizados ante un estruendo, su propio grito al nacer. Este es el Cocuán, pueblo infame, mínimo y a la vez enorme, con un apetito rayano en gula, quizás por ello es que sus habitantes, la mitad de ellos, están como muertos, o quizás están muertos, o semimuertos. Todos en Cocuán viven como almas en pena, rodeados de rezos, letanías, mitos, supersticiones y magia. Todo eso con un mundo natural que les rodea, que se debate con Dios el poder de la creación de todo aquello. No sabemos si es el poder de Dios, la fuerza de la naturaleza, o la conciencia del ser.
Natalia García Freire construye con magistralidad una cosmogonía. Sí, una cosmogonía. No es solo un pueblo de leyenda, es más que eso. Mucho más. A través de una exploración exhaustiva del lenguaje y el trabajo de filigrana de la palabra, la autora logra crear una atmósfera místico-mágica con su propia narrativa que construye un mundo literario de una riqueza alegórica enorme. La perfecta conjugación de fondo y forma. O de forma que crea un fondo profundo, oscuro, impenetrable.
Se trata de una novela polifónica, dividida por capítulos nombrados con cada personaje, cuyas voces narradoras conforman un coro armónico y destemplado a la vez. No es la misma historia repetida varias veces desde un punto de vista diferente, de hecho, es el mismo punto de vista siempre pero con distintas voces, es la misma historia siempre pero con continuidades y desenlaces que se van desarrollando en cada capítulo, como un rompecabezas deforme, o más bien, terrible.
No cabe duda que Natalia García Freire es una gran narradora; esta es su segunda novela (la primera es Nuestra piel muerta, formidable igualmente) y sigue manteniendo el listón alto.
Natalia García Freire construye con magistralidad una cosmogonía. Sí, una cosmogonía. No es solo un pueblo de leyenda, es más que eso. Mucho más. A través de una exploración exhaustiva del lenguaje y el trabajo de filigrana de la palabra, la autora logra crear una atmósfera místico-mágica con su propia narrativa que construye un mundo literario de una riqueza alegórica enorme. La perfecta conjugación de fondo y forma. O de forma que crea un fondo profundo, oscuro, impenetrable.
Se trata de una novela polifónica, dividida por capítulos nombrados con cada personaje, cuyas voces narradoras conforman un coro armónico y destemplado a la vez. No es la misma historia repetida varias veces desde un punto de vista diferente, de hecho, es el mismo punto de vista siempre pero con distintas voces, es la misma historia siempre pero con continuidades y desenlaces que se van desarrollando en cada capítulo, como un rompecabezas deforme, o más bien, terrible.
No cabe duda que Natalia García Freire es una gran narradora; esta es su segunda novela (la primera es Nuestra piel muerta, formidable igualmente) y sigue manteniendo el listón alto.
August 13, 2023
Producto fresco y exclusivo el que nos ofrece Natalia García Freire en esta novela.
El lenguaje es críptico, fabulado, fantástico, los animales y la naturaleza son tan protagonistas como las personas, no me gustaría compararlo con el realismo mágico, porque yo diría que va un poco más allá en su atrevimiento, es más bien todo magia (no sé si magia blanca o magia negra). Por momentos me recordó a la forma de escribir de Cristina Sánchez-Andrade, pero con un sello de identidad propio claro, digamos que más selvático y salvaje.
La narración la llevan nueve habitantes de ese pueblo mitológico que es Coacan, muy buena. No siempre narran en primera persona. Tienen protagonismo especial aquí los tontos del pueblo: Agustina, Filatelio y el cura Manzi que deviene en loco también, además de la Diosamadre Mildred que yo la veo como el alter ego del mundo natural, la Naturaleza tan alejada de la religión, un mundo pagano que acaba por vencer a los rezos y plegarias religiosos y a sus ministros que intentan imponer sus ritos.
Puede resultar interesante imbuirse por un momento en el mundo fantástico que propone esta autora que no había tenido la oportunidad de leer, pero que a buen seguro repetiré.
El lenguaje es críptico, fabulado, fantástico, los animales y la naturaleza son tan protagonistas como las personas, no me gustaría compararlo con el realismo mágico, porque yo diría que va un poco más allá en su atrevimiento, es más bien todo magia (no sé si magia blanca o magia negra). Por momentos me recordó a la forma de escribir de Cristina Sánchez-Andrade, pero con un sello de identidad propio claro, digamos que más selvático y salvaje.
La narración la llevan nueve habitantes de ese pueblo mitológico que es Coacan, muy buena. No siempre narran en primera persona. Tienen protagonismo especial aquí los tontos del pueblo: Agustina, Filatelio y el cura Manzi que deviene en loco también, además de la Diosamadre Mildred que yo la veo como el alter ego del mundo natural, la Naturaleza tan alejada de la religión, un mundo pagano que acaba por vencer a los rezos y plegarias religiosos y a sus ministros que intentan imponer sus ritos.
Puede resultar interesante imbuirse por un momento en el mundo fantástico que propone esta autora que no había tenido la oportunidad de leer, pero que a buen seguro repetiré.
April 27, 2022
Qué acontecimiento. Natalia hilvana un bosque antiguo, prende fuego al lenguaje, a los vivos y a los muertos. Maravilloso, una escritura que deslumbra y arde.
September 30, 2025
2025 Cercador Prize finalist
Those who live in fear will become savages
A Carnival of Atrocities is Victor Meadowcroft's translation of Trajiste Contigo El Viento by Ecuadorian author Natalia García Freire, and is the latest from the Asymptote Book Club, "dedicated to world literature in translation that partners with top independent publishers on both sides of the Atlantic."
The tone of the novel is set early on from the epigraphs taken from Gustavo Faverón Patriau’s Vivir abajo, Job 36:20 and the Log Lady from Twin Peaks.
The novel is set in the fictional town, actually in population more a small village, of Cocuán, in the Ecuadorian Andes, a community now bypassed by the main road and seemingly forgotten by wider society, the only newcomers to the town in recent memories two priests and they don't count, they only brought more silence, as Agustina, a healer, comments:
The bypass cut us off and now people drive by in trucks without even catching a whiff of the act that other men and women who were spat out by the earth are living here. We’re an old and vanished town. You must realize. Nothing in Cocuán is what it seems. We’re all composed of dust and evil, like nightmares. Our cemetery is a swamp sown with rotten crosses that disappear now every time the river swells. Not even our dead want to remain with us.
And another of the town folk, the youngster Ezequiel comments, in the phrase from which the title of the English translation is taken:
The carnival of atrocities that is Cocuán was stranger than ever. People would have paid good money to see us: step right up and see this ghastly town.
But I was no longer frightened by it. In that moment, I no longer wish to be blind or cover my eyes; I wanted to watch them all burn, to cleanse the world and leave only the cloud hillsides in the background, that magnificent world, with no one to inhabit it.
The original Spanish-language title, Trajiste Contigo El Viento, would translate as 'You Brought The Wind With You' and links to the opening page of the novel and the character around whose fate the novel revolves, Mildred Capa:
Mildred, listen, Mildred. When you were born your ma said you brought the wind with you. It was a tepid wind, a wind that isn't scared, a wind that takes refuge among piles of hay and rests down wells, emerging later to softly touch the flowers and make them open, before filtering through the tunnels in leaves where it remembers that it's wind because it whistles. You brought the wind with you, the one that carries dandelion puffs all over the world, Mildred. The wind that soothes the livestock. That wind isn't scared. Those who live in fear will become savages. But not you, listen to me, Mildred, not you. Your ma would touch your sored skin and smile, because she said beneath it you were full of light. They've sent us an angel, she told me when we brought you to the river so you could be blessed by the water, we'll call her Mildred, and we'll never let them take her away. And the wind that year caused the waters to recede, Mildred, and it brought thrushes and turtledoves and swallows. And it was that same wind that swept away the cochineals, the fleas, the aphids and the whiteflies.
Mildred lived with her parents on the edge of the town and in her opening section, narrated posthomously, she tells her story. When her mother died, her father left and she attempted to stay in the family home, living with three pigs who she allowed into their house. Mildred is covered in sores, which her mother has told her to hide, but perhaps not for the obvious reason since the sores are lumiscent. The townfolk, coming at night, a time when traditionally they would be scared to venture out of the main town, force her out of the house, slaughter the pigs, and she is forced to live with the then priest Santamaria, who abuses her and who, when she dies some years later, keeps her body, still luminous, hidden in a room in the monastery.
The rest of the novel takes place some time after Mildred's death. On a particular day a number (from the story at least 5) of the townspeople disappear from their homes, and are spotted walking together into the forest, having shed their clothes, their own bodies also now glowing. The remaining townsfolk venture into the forest to find them and bring them back - but few of those seeking or those sought return alive.
The narration switches between eight of those who set out to seek those who have fled, each section narrated in a distinct voices:
- Ezequiel, whose mother María joins them, and whose father, Old Jonas, is one of those who left
- Agustina, a healer
- Manzi, the priest who replaced Santamaria
- Carmen, a young woman, whose love Tadeo was one of those who left, and whose father German initially leads the expedition alongside Baltasar and Abdiel (see below)
- Víctor, Ezequiel's twin brother, bullied by him even in the womb
- Baltasar, a money-lender who seems most worried that all of those who left owe him money
- Hermosina, one of three sisters with Mercedes, Esther who set out with their two daughters (who they seem to parent collectively), Zaida and Chabuca
- Filatelio, regarded as the town fool, but perhaps the only one that realises that Mildred's legacy is behind the events; he's one of the few people aware her body remains in the monastery and venerates her as Diosmadre
Another key character, and one of the leader's of the town's folk and their expedition is Abdiel, whose wife Lucía is one of those who disappeared, along with a woman Berta Sotelo and an elderly hunchback Gioconda.
The novel effectively describes the stench and decay that infiltrates Cocuán, both literally, with one exception, Ezequiel noting that when he comes close to Mildred's old house I noticed the smell, different to the rest of Cocuán, which reeked of dirty water and grime. By Old Mildred's house, it smelled of fresh grass and rain, but also in the endemic corruption of the townspeople:
Agustina in her thoughts accuses Baltasar, Jonás and Abdiel of sleeping with young girls, and Hermonisa reveals that even when older Baltasar would ask her to pretend to be younger when he slept with her (he bound my breasts ... and made me put on the faded white panties of a little girl).
The local religion is syncretic, but something the priest expoit rather than condemn, as Santamaria advises Manzi on his arrival in the town as his replacement: you will just as soon find people kneeling before a saint as sacrificing chickens in front of the church door ... use the savagery of these people to your advantage, Manzi. They are capable of seeing miracles where none exist, advice the senile and unwhile elder priest tells his replacement before, a few days later, he hanged himself from one of the rafters of the monastry, in the room containing the body of that woman, and this syncretism is key to Filatelio's veneration of Mildred.
And the local economy is largely found on chulco (userous money lending, one of a number of terms Meadowcroft leaves untranslated, adding to the novel's atmosphere), one with Baltasar at its centre, but involving almost everyone, a practice Manzi again doesn't discourage but rather relies on to maintain the ultimate level of piece and prevent the locals murdering each other - after all “a corpse can’t pay.”
The image of the wind is also a recurrent one - the LARB review linked to below counted alomst 50 instances the wind is mentioned after Mildred's own chapter, an increasingly sinister one in contrast to her "wind that isn't scared", and one that indeed leads those who fear it to become, as her mother prophesied, "savages".
A brilliantly translated and vividly evocative novel.
Other reviews
The book club's introduction to the book can be found here.
And a Book Club interview with author and translator here.
Stu / Winston's Dad
LA Review of Books
Conscientious Reflections on Substack
The publisher
World Editions promotes voices from around the globe by publishing books from many different countries and languages into English translation. Through our work, we aim to enhance dialogue between cultures, foster new connections, and open doors which may otherwise have remained closed.
World Editions was founded in 2013 by Eric Visser, publisher of Dutch literary house De Geus―home to many Nobel Prize-winning authors.
Those who live in fear will become savages
A Carnival of Atrocities is Victor Meadowcroft's translation of Trajiste Contigo El Viento by Ecuadorian author Natalia García Freire, and is the latest from the Asymptote Book Club, "dedicated to world literature in translation that partners with top independent publishers on both sides of the Atlantic."
The tone of the novel is set early on from the epigraphs taken from Gustavo Faverón Patriau’s Vivir abajo, Job 36:20 and the Log Lady from Twin Peaks.
The novel is set in the fictional town, actually in population more a small village, of Cocuán, in the Ecuadorian Andes, a community now bypassed by the main road and seemingly forgotten by wider society, the only newcomers to the town in recent memories two priests and they don't count, they only brought more silence, as Agustina, a healer, comments:
The bypass cut us off and now people drive by in trucks without even catching a whiff of the act that other men and women who were spat out by the earth are living here. We’re an old and vanished town. You must realize. Nothing in Cocuán is what it seems. We’re all composed of dust and evil, like nightmares. Our cemetery is a swamp sown with rotten crosses that disappear now every time the river swells. Not even our dead want to remain with us.
And another of the town folk, the youngster Ezequiel comments, in the phrase from which the title of the English translation is taken:
The carnival of atrocities that is Cocuán was stranger than ever. People would have paid good money to see us: step right up and see this ghastly town.
But I was no longer frightened by it. In that moment, I no longer wish to be blind or cover my eyes; I wanted to watch them all burn, to cleanse the world and leave only the cloud hillsides in the background, that magnificent world, with no one to inhabit it.
The original Spanish-language title, Trajiste Contigo El Viento, would translate as 'You Brought The Wind With You' and links to the opening page of the novel and the character around whose fate the novel revolves, Mildred Capa:
Mildred, listen, Mildred. When you were born your ma said you brought the wind with you. It was a tepid wind, a wind that isn't scared, a wind that takes refuge among piles of hay and rests down wells, emerging later to softly touch the flowers and make them open, before filtering through the tunnels in leaves where it remembers that it's wind because it whistles. You brought the wind with you, the one that carries dandelion puffs all over the world, Mildred. The wind that soothes the livestock. That wind isn't scared. Those who live in fear will become savages. But not you, listen to me, Mildred, not you. Your ma would touch your sored skin and smile, because she said beneath it you were full of light. They've sent us an angel, she told me when we brought you to the river so you could be blessed by the water, we'll call her Mildred, and we'll never let them take her away. And the wind that year caused the waters to recede, Mildred, and it brought thrushes and turtledoves and swallows. And it was that same wind that swept away the cochineals, the fleas, the aphids and the whiteflies.
Mildred lived with her parents on the edge of the town and in her opening section, narrated posthomously, she tells her story. When her mother died, her father left and she attempted to stay in the family home, living with three pigs who she allowed into their house. Mildred is covered in sores, which her mother has told her to hide, but perhaps not for the obvious reason since the sores are lumiscent. The townfolk, coming at night, a time when traditionally they would be scared to venture out of the main town, force her out of the house, slaughter the pigs, and she is forced to live with the then priest Santamaria, who abuses her and who, when she dies some years later, keeps her body, still luminous, hidden in a room in the monastery.
The rest of the novel takes place some time after Mildred's death. On a particular day a number (from the story at least 5) of the townspeople disappear from their homes, and are spotted walking together into the forest, having shed their clothes, their own bodies also now glowing. The remaining townsfolk venture into the forest to find them and bring them back - but few of those seeking or those sought return alive.
The narration switches between eight of those who set out to seek those who have fled, each section narrated in a distinct voices:
- Ezequiel, whose mother María joins them, and whose father, Old Jonas, is one of those who left
- Agustina, a healer
- Manzi, the priest who replaced Santamaria
- Carmen, a young woman, whose love Tadeo was one of those who left, and whose father German initially leads the expedition alongside Baltasar and Abdiel (see below)
- Víctor, Ezequiel's twin brother, bullied by him even in the womb
- Baltasar, a money-lender who seems most worried that all of those who left owe him money
- Hermosina, one of three sisters with Mercedes, Esther who set out with their two daughters (who they seem to parent collectively), Zaida and Chabuca
- Filatelio, regarded as the town fool, but perhaps the only one that realises that Mildred's legacy is behind the events; he's one of the few people aware her body remains in the monastery and venerates her as Diosmadre
Another key character, and one of the leader's of the town's folk and their expedition is Abdiel, whose wife Lucía is one of those who disappeared, along with a woman Berta Sotelo and an elderly hunchback Gioconda.
The novel effectively describes the stench and decay that infiltrates Cocuán, both literally, with one exception, Ezequiel noting that when he comes close to Mildred's old house I noticed the smell, different to the rest of Cocuán, which reeked of dirty water and grime. By Old Mildred's house, it smelled of fresh grass and rain, but also in the endemic corruption of the townspeople:
Agustina in her thoughts accuses Baltasar, Jonás and Abdiel of sleeping with young girls, and Hermonisa reveals that even when older Baltasar would ask her to pretend to be younger when he slept with her (he bound my breasts ... and made me put on the faded white panties of a little girl).
The local religion is syncretic, but something the priest expoit rather than condemn, as Santamaria advises Manzi on his arrival in the town as his replacement: you will just as soon find people kneeling before a saint as sacrificing chickens in front of the church door ... use the savagery of these people to your advantage, Manzi. They are capable of seeing miracles where none exist, advice the senile and unwhile elder priest tells his replacement before, a few days later, he hanged himself from one of the rafters of the monastry, in the room containing the body of that woman, and this syncretism is key to Filatelio's veneration of Mildred.
And the local economy is largely found on chulco (userous money lending, one of a number of terms Meadowcroft leaves untranslated, adding to the novel's atmosphere), one with Baltasar at its centre, but involving almost everyone, a practice Manzi again doesn't discourage but rather relies on to maintain the ultimate level of piece and prevent the locals murdering each other - after all “a corpse can’t pay.”
The image of the wind is also a recurrent one - the LARB review linked to below counted alomst 50 instances the wind is mentioned after Mildred's own chapter, an increasingly sinister one in contrast to her "wind that isn't scared", and one that indeed leads those who fear it to become, as her mother prophesied, "savages".
A brilliantly translated and vividly evocative novel.
Other reviews
The book club's introduction to the book can be found here.
And a Book Club interview with author and translator here.
Stu / Winston's Dad
LA Review of Books
Conscientious Reflections on Substack
The publisher
World Editions promotes voices from around the globe by publishing books from many different countries and languages into English translation. Through our work, we aim to enhance dialogue between cultures, foster new connections, and open doors which may otherwise have remained closed.
World Editions was founded in 2013 by Eric Visser, publisher of Dutch literary house De Geus―home to many Nobel Prize-winning authors.
March 30, 2023
Un cuento de realismo mágico, con una prosa mística y una atmósfera misteriosa.
Es la segunda novela que leo de Natalia y amo su narración maravillosa cargada de espiritualidad y de secretos que esconde la naturaleza.
La historia de Mildred toma fuerza con el relato de los personajes de Cocuán y las raras circunstancias en cómo van desapareciendo entre el horror y los mitos, entre plantas y animales.
Que lenguaje tan exquisito, que relato tan desgarrador.
“Un bosque es la quietud de Dios, el lugar donde las flores trepan y caen, un viento que contiene muchos vientos, una trampa donde los muertos se quedan colgados como liebres aullando y chillando.”
Es la segunda novela que leo de Natalia y amo su narración maravillosa cargada de espiritualidad y de secretos que esconde la naturaleza.
La historia de Mildred toma fuerza con el relato de los personajes de Cocuán y las raras circunstancias en cómo van desapareciendo entre el horror y los mitos, entre plantas y animales.
Que lenguaje tan exquisito, que relato tan desgarrador.
“Un bosque es la quietud de Dios, el lugar donde las flores trepan y caen, un viento que contiene muchos vientos, una trampa donde los muertos se quedan colgados como liebres aullando y chillando.”
April 30, 2022
«Un pueblo es una cadena hecha de pesadillas».
June 10, 2023
Con una escritura hermosa, con una prosa mística y lenguaje onírico lleno de metáforas que te envuelve en una atmósfera misteriosa. La narración transmite lirismo bíblico a través de su lenguaje.
Es la historia de Mildred en Cocuán, pueblo perdido y olvidado, entre la selva y el frío de las montañas andinas que está a punto de desaparecer de la memoria. Narrando de una manera inexplorada y alegórica algo de la esencia, la complejidad y los conflictos de las comunidades más olvidadas de Los Andes.
Esta historia es narrada después de una serie de sucesos extraños, desapariciones, episodios de locura y desvaríos llenos de violencia por las voces de nueve personajes que la han padecido en su propio lenguaje mostrando su perspectiva, Mildred, Ezequiel, Agustina, Manzi, Carmen, Victor, Baltasar, Hermosina y Filatelio. Mostrando cómo se repiten los patrones de violencia. Siendo Cocúan protagonista y desmitificando el pueblo con la frase “un pueblo es una cadena de pesadilla”. Es una historia donde lo salvaje está siempre presente.
En el relato se aborda el pasado y el presente de un lugar condenado y del milagro de Diosmadre en la Tierra. Siendo la naturaleza y los animales una parte toral del libro. También un reclamo a cómo las hemos maltratado. Cuestionando el andropocentrismo.
Recuerda a la colonización, la misma autora ha señalado en entrevista “Cocuán era mi intento de entender mi mestizaje, el carecer de algo sagrado, esa culpa que no puedes dejar ir”. Es un libro que se debe entender desde Latinoamérica y al mismo tiempo ayuda a comprenderla.
Es un libro que seguro volveré a leer, se asienta poco a poco. Es difícil de digerir pero curiosamente aún siendo así, te atrapa. Lo recomiendo.
Es la historia de Mildred en Cocuán, pueblo perdido y olvidado, entre la selva y el frío de las montañas andinas que está a punto de desaparecer de la memoria. Narrando de una manera inexplorada y alegórica algo de la esencia, la complejidad y los conflictos de las comunidades más olvidadas de Los Andes.
Esta historia es narrada después de una serie de sucesos extraños, desapariciones, episodios de locura y desvaríos llenos de violencia por las voces de nueve personajes que la han padecido en su propio lenguaje mostrando su perspectiva, Mildred, Ezequiel, Agustina, Manzi, Carmen, Victor, Baltasar, Hermosina y Filatelio. Mostrando cómo se repiten los patrones de violencia. Siendo Cocúan protagonista y desmitificando el pueblo con la frase “un pueblo es una cadena de pesadilla”. Es una historia donde lo salvaje está siempre presente.
En el relato se aborda el pasado y el presente de un lugar condenado y del milagro de Diosmadre en la Tierra. Siendo la naturaleza y los animales una parte toral del libro. También un reclamo a cómo las hemos maltratado. Cuestionando el andropocentrismo.
Recuerda a la colonización, la misma autora ha señalado en entrevista “Cocuán era mi intento de entender mi mestizaje, el carecer de algo sagrado, esa culpa que no puedes dejar ir”. Es un libro que se debe entender desde Latinoamérica y al mismo tiempo ayuda a comprenderla.
Es un libro que seguro volveré a leer, se asienta poco a poco. Es difícil de digerir pero curiosamente aún siendo así, te atrapa. Lo recomiendo.
May 25, 2022
1. Edición cuidada y con muchos detalles referentes al paisaje(?) -fauna- del libro.
2. De lectura rápida y frenética. Va de un pueblo donde los Capa toman importancia en la muerte de la madre, la huída del padre y la enfermedad-final trágico de Mildred; el pueblo estaría involucrado en este final. Luego desaparece la mitad (?) de la población y los demás van tras ellos. Hay un bicho-una peste-un espíritu que aparece en influye en esta situación.
3. Lo importante está justamente en:
3.1 el paisaje, la flora y la fauna, esas montañas metidas -la cordillera que nos atraviesa- en la gente; la relación del pueblo con el bosque y con la selva, incluso con esa costa occidental.
3.2 la (des)colonización, la relación que entra a debate entre la religión impuesta y la antigua, las relaciones con la naturaleza, los bosques actuales y los bosques antiguos, lo nuestro(?) lo de ellos.
4. Es una exposición de inquietudes de Natalia en torno a la disputa de espacios (y hasta de ética) (de una manera muy amplia) en la interseccionalidad entre lo mestizo, lo andino y lo indígena.
5. is it an ecofeminist novel?
2. De lectura rápida y frenética. Va de un pueblo donde los Capa toman importancia en la muerte de la madre, la huída del padre y la enfermedad-final trágico de Mildred; el pueblo estaría involucrado en este final. Luego desaparece la mitad (?) de la población y los demás van tras ellos. Hay un bicho-una peste-un espíritu que aparece en influye en esta situación.
3. Lo importante está justamente en:
3.1 el paisaje, la flora y la fauna, esas montañas metidas -la cordillera que nos atraviesa- en la gente; la relación del pueblo con el bosque y con la selva, incluso con esa costa occidental.
3.2 la (des)colonización, la relación que entra a debate entre la religión impuesta y la antigua, las relaciones con la naturaleza, los bosques actuales y los bosques antiguos, lo nuestro(?) lo de ellos.
4. Es una exposición de inquietudes de Natalia en torno a la disputa de espacios (y hasta de ética) (de una manera muy amplia) en la interseccionalidad entre lo mestizo, lo andino y lo indígena.
5. is it an ecofeminist novel?
Read
January 29, 2025I have somehow completely missed Natalia García Freire's first English translation, This World Does Not Belong to Us, which I shall rectify as soon as possible after reading this novel. I'm not sure exactly what happens in it, but I'm sure it reads like the offspring of Fernanda Melchor and Agustina Bazterrica (and there's even a character called Agustina). And that is as high as my praise can go, as both Melchor and Bazterrica have written some of my favourite novels of the last decade. So if you are ready for encounters with other/underworldly, more-than-human, and monstrous that challenge the very foundations of common sense, then sit down and open this book. It's disgustingly pleasurable or pleasurably disgusting, binaries don't really apply here.
June 28, 2023
Siempre existen otras formas de contar las historias y Natalia García Freire tiene un talento con el lenguaje, narra el horror y la belleza que tiene la historia de Mildred y de su pueblo de una forma maravillosa.
Vale la pena leer esta novela para salir de la zona de confort.
Vale la pena leer esta novela para salir de la zona de confort.
May 2, 2025
I'm on the fence with this one to be honest. I wanted to like it more than I did, as I enjoy magical realism, and this very much resembles the styles of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Juan Rulfo (specifically One Hundred Years of Solitude and Pedro Paramo came to mind here). But, it was very hard to follow. And truly, I get that this is the typical writing style with this type of work, but this one was dang hard to get into.
The plot is simple, yes, Mildred was a village girl that was taken by the town after her mother died and forced to live in the monastery. They kill all her animals (why?) - and then we don't hear what has become of Mildred except one can guess she died somehow. Fast forward years and we get the viewpoints of lots of people. Mildred foresaw that everyone would become "possessed" in some way - many of the present villagers strip naked in the middle of the night and wander into the jungle, pushing a great white light that they see. The rest of the townspeople try to bring them back.
So yes, told from many different viewpoints of the various villagers of Cacuan. It is definitely dreamy, hallucinatory, and a little bit scatterbrained. You kind of just don't really know what you are reading. I found myself lost at many points.
Again I enjoy magical realism, but I feel this was just a little too abstract for me. Just a tad more cohesiveness could have made this better in my opinion.
The plot is simple, yes, Mildred was a village girl that was taken by the town after her mother died and forced to live in the monastery. They kill all her animals (why?) - and then we don't hear what has become of Mildred except one can guess she died somehow. Fast forward years and we get the viewpoints of lots of people. Mildred foresaw that everyone would become "possessed" in some way - many of the present villagers strip naked in the middle of the night and wander into the jungle, pushing a great white light that they see. The rest of the townspeople try to bring them back.
So yes, told from many different viewpoints of the various villagers of Cacuan. It is definitely dreamy, hallucinatory, and a little bit scatterbrained. You kind of just don't really know what you are reading. I found myself lost at many points.
Again I enjoy magical realism, but I feel this was just a little too abstract for me. Just a tad more cohesiveness could have made this better in my opinion.
May 28, 2023
Siento que me gustó de una forma muy intuitiva, muchas veces no entendía nada conscientemente pero algo dentro de mi cabeza se sentía demasiado bien con eso.
Una lectura muy basta, cuando lo discutimos en el club de lectura, pude percibir todos los símbolos y temas que abarca. Me sorprende mucho que los libros cortos me dejen con esta sensación de que leí algo enorme.
Por lo demás, una historia sobre un pueblo en el que el viento arrasa con todo y solo entonces se alcanza la pureza.
Una lectura muy basta, cuando lo discutimos en el club de lectura, pude percibir todos los símbolos y temas que abarca. Me sorprende mucho que los libros cortos me dejen con esta sensación de que leí algo enorme.
Por lo demás, una historia sobre un pueblo en el que el viento arrasa con todo y solo entonces se alcanza la pureza.
June 4, 2022
Difícil de leer, no solo por lo raro de sus personajes y la violencia que retrata si no también por su estructura caleidoscópica. Pero aprendí de los suris y el aguará guazú.
February 14, 2025
A delightfully absurd and vivid polyphonic novel taking place in a fictional and mystical town in the Andean highlands of Ecuador.
A woman has died and her daughter, Mildred, is dragged against her will by the priest and townspeople to live in the monastery. From that follows an increasingly hallucinatory chain of events in which a group of townspeople are spotted running naked in the night, dazed and mindless, towards the jungle. As the perspective switches from person to person, the hunt for the missing townspeople descends into a fiery and violent affair in which few survive.
Now, that’s as straightforward as I can get in recounting the plot of the novel, but it’s really much more than that and hardly any of it is straightforward. There’s the tepid wind that brings the violence, originating from the curse of Mildred, now known as the Diosmadre, and the paganized Catholicism of the town. And there are the beautiful and haunting flora and fauna of the mountain, the alive but suffocating jungle.
Reading an interview with Freire helped immensely in understanding further the allegorical nature of the story. Lacking the reverence and connection that the Indigenous people had with the land and feeling that all Catholicism had to offer was guilt and punishment, this book partly arose as a way for Freire to understand and work through her identity as a mixed person looking to belong to something sacred. The book is a chaotic and wildly imagined piece of art on its own, but the additional context made it all the richer.
A reread of this is necessary, there are many more layers of brilliance to be unearthed.
A woman has died and her daughter, Mildred, is dragged against her will by the priest and townspeople to live in the monastery. From that follows an increasingly hallucinatory chain of events in which a group of townspeople are spotted running naked in the night, dazed and mindless, towards the jungle. As the perspective switches from person to person, the hunt for the missing townspeople descends into a fiery and violent affair in which few survive.
Now, that’s as straightforward as I can get in recounting the plot of the novel, but it’s really much more than that and hardly any of it is straightforward. There’s the tepid wind that brings the violence, originating from the curse of Mildred, now known as the Diosmadre, and the paganized Catholicism of the town. And there are the beautiful and haunting flora and fauna of the mountain, the alive but suffocating jungle.
Reading an interview with Freire helped immensely in understanding further the allegorical nature of the story. Lacking the reverence and connection that the Indigenous people had with the land and feeling that all Catholicism had to offer was guilt and punishment, this book partly arose as a way for Freire to understand and work through her identity as a mixed person looking to belong to something sacred. The book is a chaotic and wildly imagined piece of art on its own, but the additional context made it all the richer.
A reread of this is necessary, there are many more layers of brilliance to be unearthed.
April 27, 2024
Romanzo dai contorni sfumati e sfaccettati come quelli di un bosco visto dagli occhi di un miope.
La leggenda di Mildred è la sua maledizione, via via che si va avanti inoltrandosi nelle sensazioni e leggendo un punto di vista in più si pensa di aggiungere tasselli alla ricostruzione degli avvenimenti camminando verso la comprensione ma invece si entra sempre più in un vortice di caos.
Un paese isolato, marcio, sporco. Pensieri dall’ aldilà.
Animali e natura che prendono il sopravvento e poi soccombono. Segreti oscuri, personalità difettate, e personaggi che più prendono vita e più svaniscono.
Una lettura audace e non lineare, gotica, onirica, sensoriale, soprannaturale, divina.
Il male del mondo è dentro di noi che lo portiamo nel mondo e dal mondo veniamo infettati non più di quanto sia necessario. C’è redenzione anche per l’anima più nera e c’è speranza dopo il fuoco che la cenere pulisca e rigeneri ogni cosa.
Lo stile dell’autrice mi ha catturata, una litania antica in grado di unire parole morte e sensazioni vive tra loro.
La leggenda di Mildred è la sua maledizione, via via che si va avanti inoltrandosi nelle sensazioni e leggendo un punto di vista in più si pensa di aggiungere tasselli alla ricostruzione degli avvenimenti camminando verso la comprensione ma invece si entra sempre più in un vortice di caos.
Un paese isolato, marcio, sporco. Pensieri dall’ aldilà.
Animali e natura che prendono il sopravvento e poi soccombono. Segreti oscuri, personalità difettate, e personaggi che più prendono vita e più svaniscono.
Una lettura audace e non lineare, gotica, onirica, sensoriale, soprannaturale, divina.
Il male del mondo è dentro di noi che lo portiamo nel mondo e dal mondo veniamo infettati non più di quanto sia necessario. C’è redenzione anche per l’anima più nera e c’è speranza dopo il fuoco che la cenere pulisca e rigeneri ogni cosa.
Lo stile dell’autrice mi ha catturata, una litania antica in grado di unire parole morte e sensazioni vive tra loro.
January 18, 2025
Un voyage sombre et cauchemardesque mais écrit avec un lyrisme saisissant.
Quand la mère de Mildred décède et le père s’absente, on vient la chercher pour tout lui confisquer (animaux, maison, terres) mais aussi sa vie.
Des années plus tard dans ce village marqué sur aucune carte, surgissent des événements étranges dont même le curé ne pourra expliquer les causes et qui, pris d’un excès de folie, préféra se trancher les oreilles pour ne plus entendre les voix…
Vous savez ce village lointain, poussiéreux, dérangeant avec des habitants qui observent et qui sont tous fous. Eh bien vous y êtes… bienvenue à Cocuán, asile de tous les aliénés et autres dégénérés que la nature a préféré réunir dans un même lieu afin de les oublier.
Les 9 chapitres sont tous dédiés à un personnage qui parle de la mort du village hanté par le poids du péché à la manière d’un jeu de piste ou d’une horloge montée à rebours.
Bon courage pour en sortir indemne.
Quand la mère de Mildred décède et le père s’absente, on vient la chercher pour tout lui confisquer (animaux, maison, terres) mais aussi sa vie.
Des années plus tard dans ce village marqué sur aucune carte, surgissent des événements étranges dont même le curé ne pourra expliquer les causes et qui, pris d’un excès de folie, préféra se trancher les oreilles pour ne plus entendre les voix…
Vous savez ce village lointain, poussiéreux, dérangeant avec des habitants qui observent et qui sont tous fous. Eh bien vous y êtes… bienvenue à Cocuán, asile de tous les aliénés et autres dégénérés que la nature a préféré réunir dans un même lieu afin de les oublier.
Les 9 chapitres sont tous dédiés à un personnage qui parle de la mort du village hanté par le poids du péché à la manière d’un jeu de piste ou d’une horloge montée à rebours.
Bon courage pour en sortir indemne.
August 11, 2024
Ay qué rabia! Me ha gustado y creo que tenía bastante potencial, pero se me ha quedado un poco corto, me ha parecido más un relato que una novela, y le ha faltado profundizar más en el universo que presenta.
La novela nos sumerge en un mundo mágico y misterioso, donde la leyenda de la vieja Mildred se entrelaza con la realidad de un pueblo andino carcomido por el entorno y la ruindad humana. La autora logra crear una atmósfera angustiosa, con esa niebla que invade al pueblo y sus habitantes, pero siento que se queda en la superficie.
No da tiempo a empatizar con los personajes, q comprender sus acciones, sus dilemas y sus luces y sombras. Me hubiera gustado conocer más sobre la leyenda, la cosmovisión de los habitantes de Cocuán y cómo influye en sus vidas cotidianas.
La novela nos sumerge en un mundo mágico y misterioso, donde la leyenda de la vieja Mildred se entrelaza con la realidad de un pueblo andino carcomido por el entorno y la ruindad humana. La autora logra crear una atmósfera angustiosa, con esa niebla que invade al pueblo y sus habitantes, pero siento que se queda en la superficie.
No da tiempo a empatizar con los personajes, q comprender sus acciones, sus dilemas y sus luces y sombras. Me hubiera gustado conocer más sobre la leyenda, la cosmovisión de los habitantes de Cocuán y cómo influye en sus vidas cotidianas.
November 29, 2022
Me da la sensación de que Natalia García Freire está escribiendo la mitología que leerán en el futuro quien sea que quede ahí. Sus historias son como tan primitivas pero a la vez tan futuristas que no sabría como encasillarlas, y eso es lo que hace muy especial sus libros.
April 7, 2025
I am not sure what I just read.
The title is captivating, the cover is gorgeous, the writing was stunning. But the storyline was a blur of reality and... something else. It was incredibly hard to follow but too intriguing to put down. Did I like it? Yes. It was definitely an experience. Would I recommend it? No. I don't think so. Unless I did it selfishly, so you could finish it and tell me what the heck was happening.
The book opens with a young girl who is forcefully removed from her home when her mother dies and her father disappears. Then, we shift to the perspectives of nine of the townsfolk who remember the girl as a witch and are on a strange journey of sorts to hunt down a group of runaways.
Cursed, afraid, and perhaps completely out of their minds, incredibly odd and horrific things begin to happen to them on this journey. A priest cuts off his own ears, a woman loses her footing and falls to her death and when her husband grieves over her dead body, someone else sneaks up to the woman who is attempting to console him and cracks her skull in with a rock. A man who owes a debt removes the gold teeth straight out of the mouth of a dying traveler; the food for the trip goes rotten; someone sets some of the others, and maybe themselves, on fire; and a young man upon coming face to face with his father, stakes himself in the chest.
Then again, this might all be wrong.
A hypnotic story of treachery and fear that howls like the wind in your ears. There's a message here somewhere but I'll be damned if I can decipher it.
The title is captivating, the cover is gorgeous, the writing was stunning. But the storyline was a blur of reality and... something else. It was incredibly hard to follow but too intriguing to put down. Did I like it? Yes. It was definitely an experience. Would I recommend it? No. I don't think so. Unless I did it selfishly, so you could finish it and tell me what the heck was happening.
The book opens with a young girl who is forcefully removed from her home when her mother dies and her father disappears. Then, we shift to the perspectives of nine of the townsfolk who remember the girl as a witch and are on a strange journey of sorts to hunt down a group of runaways.
Cursed, afraid, and perhaps completely out of their minds, incredibly odd and horrific things begin to happen to them on this journey. A priest cuts off his own ears, a woman loses her footing and falls to her death and when her husband grieves over her dead body, someone else sneaks up to the woman who is attempting to console him and cracks her skull in with a rock. A man who owes a debt removes the gold teeth straight out of the mouth of a dying traveler; the food for the trip goes rotten; someone sets some of the others, and maybe themselves, on fire; and a young man upon coming face to face with his father, stakes himself in the chest.
Then again, this might all be wrong.
A hypnotic story of treachery and fear that howls like the wind in your ears. There's a message here somewhere but I'll be damned if I can decipher it.
January 18, 2025
Che libro assurdo! Di quelli che devi rileggere per "capire se hai compreso bene". Metto tre stelline, ma resto ancora con il giudizio sospeso.
March 19, 2025
I need to read more genres
...
Thank you to Netgalley and Word Editions for this arc.
Now, again I need to preface this review with the information that I read this book ages ago and then life took over and now I need to come back and review these books finally.
I also have to say I was so busy that it feels like it’s been years since the beginning of the year.
Anyway, this book was about a specific girl and the town in which she inhabited. It was similar to another novel I read last year which also had some magical elements but this one was more hazy in nature.
This novel follows multiple characters conveying the story of the town and also the girl.
Personally, while I think I did enjoy it, I don’t think I was in the mood for it at the time. It was a bit too disjointed at the time. However, I do recommend it for people who are into those mystical types of books.
Definitely out of my comfort zone.
...
Thank you to Netgalley and Word Editions for this arc.
Now, again I need to preface this review with the information that I read this book ages ago and then life took over and now I need to come back and review these books finally.
I also have to say I was so busy that it feels like it’s been years since the beginning of the year.
Anyway, this book was about a specific girl and the town in which she inhabited. It was similar to another novel I read last year which also had some magical elements but this one was more hazy in nature.
This novel follows multiple characters conveying the story of the town and also the girl.
Personally, while I think I did enjoy it, I don’t think I was in the mood for it at the time. It was a bit too disjointed at the time. However, I do recommend it for people who are into those mystical types of books.
Definitely out of my comfort zone.
July 21, 2022
Mi opinión de esta poderosa novela y una entrevista con su autora:
https://www.librosyletras.com/entrevi...
https://www.librosyletras.com/entrevi...
March 18, 2025
This was just okay - it’s very hallucinogenic and folktale like which I didn’t love as I don’t gravitate towards that style of writing. This is a novel told through short stories, each one from the perspective of a different person involved. I liked the opening story which set the scene but I didn’t feel very attached to the rest of the book. I have the author’s previous work which I am excited still to try and hope I like it a bit better.
July 22, 2022
bueno necesito volver a leerlo otra vez para conectar mas detalles y buscar referencias pero QUE MARAVILLA, la escritura de natalia te hace estar en un campo de vegetación tranquila donde solo se escucha el viento y al mismo tiempo en una noche de luna roja gigante con animales acechando
January 1, 2025
2.5
Creo que me perdí en la salsa.
Creo que me perdí en la salsa.
December 15, 2022
Cuando leí Nuestra piel muerta quedé fascinada y me enamoré del estilo de Natalia García Freyre. Me gustó que era sutil y misteriosa, que hacía lo suficiente para decir sin soltar absolutamente todo, que el lector tenía que complementar bastante el misterio.
En Trajiste contigo el viento se recuperan muchos detalles que ya son característicos de su escritura: esta cuestión tan fuerte y tan atemorizante con la tierra y con lo no vivo, con el mundo animal, la locura, lo extraño. Personalmente sentí que en este libro el misterio es tan enorme que resulta muy difícil de penetrar, lo que no se explica es tantísimo que el libro parece estar compuesto por diferentes relatos que acaso suceden en el mismo lugar y tienen cosas en común. Me costó mucho trabajo hallar el hilo de la novela, sin embargo, aunque sentía que no entendía muy bien qué estaba pasando, la prosa de Natalia es envolvente y no dan ganas de dejar el libro en ningún momento.
Hay sucesos verdaderamente geniales. Ella es una maestra del manejo de las voces y de los ambientes; describe con tanto cuidado las cosas, en especial las más terroríficas, que sus imágenes se adhieren a la memoria (mi favorito es la parte en que el padre se corta las orejas). Natalia es muy buena jalando al lector hacia dentro, usa la naturaleza como si fuera un personaje más, y suelta la tesis fulminante de que la carne viva es mala como una suerte de sentencia que azota a todos sus personajes, como una condena a una muerte que no es la común sino un suceso extraordinario como misterioso.
Desafortunadamente no logré deshilvanar todo, de hecho siento que me faltó mucho por desentrañar y esta vez el toque justo de misterio que tenía Nuestra piel muerta se pasó de la mano y me dejó una rara sensación de incertidumbre. Igual y yo no leí con suficiente atención.
En Trajiste contigo el viento se recuperan muchos detalles que ya son característicos de su escritura: esta cuestión tan fuerte y tan atemorizante con la tierra y con lo no vivo, con el mundo animal, la locura, lo extraño. Personalmente sentí que en este libro el misterio es tan enorme que resulta muy difícil de penetrar, lo que no se explica es tantísimo que el libro parece estar compuesto por diferentes relatos que acaso suceden en el mismo lugar y tienen cosas en común. Me costó mucho trabajo hallar el hilo de la novela, sin embargo, aunque sentía que no entendía muy bien qué estaba pasando, la prosa de Natalia es envolvente y no dan ganas de dejar el libro en ningún momento.
Hay sucesos verdaderamente geniales. Ella es una maestra del manejo de las voces y de los ambientes; describe con tanto cuidado las cosas, en especial las más terroríficas, que sus imágenes se adhieren a la memoria (mi favorito es la parte en que el padre se corta las orejas). Natalia es muy buena jalando al lector hacia dentro, usa la naturaleza como si fuera un personaje más, y suelta la tesis fulminante de que la carne viva es mala como una suerte de sentencia que azota a todos sus personajes, como una condena a una muerte que no es la común sino un suceso extraordinario como misterioso.
Desafortunadamente no logré deshilvanar todo, de hecho siento que me faltó mucho por desentrañar y esta vez el toque justo de misterio que tenía Nuestra piel muerta se pasó de la mano y me dejó una rara sensación de incertidumbre. Igual y yo no leí con suficiente atención.
November 15, 2022
Que bonita narración.
Me recordó un poco a Canto yo y la Montaña baila por varias cosas:
- La historia es contada por distintos personajes (y cada uno tiene sus cosas raras, digo raras en un buen sentido)
- Hay algo acerca de Cocuán incómodo pero al mismo tiempo místico que te hace querer saber más del lugar, y que al mismo tiempo hace que sea muy fácil visualizarlo en la mente.
- La escritura es sencilla, pero salta a la vista la riqueza que viene de leer el español en uno de sus mil variantes, dándole capas y texturas a la lectura.
Me gusta.
Me recordó un poco a Canto yo y la Montaña baila por varias cosas:
- La historia es contada por distintos personajes (y cada uno tiene sus cosas raras, digo raras en un buen sentido)
- Hay algo acerca de Cocuán incómodo pero al mismo tiempo místico que te hace querer saber más del lugar, y que al mismo tiempo hace que sea muy fácil visualizarlo en la mente.
- La escritura es sencilla, pero salta a la vista la riqueza que viene de leer el español en uno de sus mil variantes, dándole capas y texturas a la lectura.
Me gusta.
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