A haunting exploration of the memories of three men and the reverberations of slavery, colonialism, and empire.
The discrete yet overlapping tales in Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida's Three Stories of Forgetting explore the lives of three men―perhaps already dead in the eyes of God―who live within the legacies of slavery, colonialism, and the spoils of the Portuguese Empire. They are all incarnations of our despair in the face of the questions that history does not answer. In "The Vision of the Plants," Celestino, an old slave trader, returns to the solitude of his home and garden after a life of horrors. In "Seaquake," Boa Morte da Silva, an Angolan who served on the Portuguese side in the Colonial War and has become a valet in Lisbon, writes to his daughter asking for forgiveness. And in "Bruma," an old slave initiates a young Eça de Queiroz into the world of French literature, even as he finds himself trapped by his own demons.
Left to their agony, remorse, and guilt, or undeserved peace, the three men may be tormented ghosts who cannot find rest. Perhaps the land they aspire to, their home in this world, is a place hidden in their souls, somewhere between nowhere and goodbye. Their lives are unstable chapters in postcolonial history and allegories of the reading and rereading of that history, and of literature. All three have been expelled from their lives, sent on a solitary journey into the night.
DJAIMILIA PEREIRA DE ALMEIDA nasceu em Luanda em 1982. É licenciada em Estudos Portugueses, pela Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa e Mestre em Teoria da Literatura (2006) e Doutorada em Estudos Literários (Teoria da Literatura) (2012), pela Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa. Em 2013, foi uma das vencedoras do Prémio de Ensaísmo serrote atribuído no Brasil pela revista serrote, do Instituto Moreira Salles. Fundou e dirige a Forma de Vida (www.formadevida.org). Trabalha na Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia e é, desde março de 2021, consultora da Casa Civil do Presidente da República, Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa.
What a thought provoking and informative read. Not that familiar with the history of Portuguese colonialism myself, this novel creatively educated me on the topic. The novel itself contains three stories, each centering around a different protagonist. The point of commonality, as the title suggests, is a desire to forget both the past and present. Underlining all of the stories, is a sense of regret for matters both in and out of the protagonists’ control.
Thinking about the stories individually, I will lay out my thoughts below.
A Vision of Plants My personal favorite of the stories. Captain Celestino is a wonderfully morally grey (maybe worse than grey) character. The narrative style switching between a third person narrator and then Celestino’s own disjointed thoughts, provided a deeper perspective into his journey of forgetting his past. Additionally, the metaphor of his garden as the people he wronged and his willingness to be enslaved by it was beautifully written.
Seaquake I struggled a bit with this one. While Boa Morte was a fascinating character to follow, I didn't actually like the narrative jumps in this story. It became hard to follow, and not necessarily in a thought provoking way. The pacing also felt a little off, there were some sections that seemed a bit too long. Nevertheless, Boa Morte writing to his daughter about his life and what gives it meaning was heart-wrenching to read.
Bruma Unlike "Seaquake" this one was confusing in a way that worked. The entire story is about the slave Bruma's desire to escape his employment. We learn about his “cabin in the forest,” a realm which gives meaning and interest to his otherwise mundane and unfair life. Over the course of the story, Bruma’s imagination begins to take over completely. By the end, the reader is uncertain what is real vs. what is a creation of Bruma’s mind.
All of these deeply character based stories made an impact on me. The only reason I am rating this a four instead of a five, is because there were some elements of the writing style that didn’t quote work for me. Despite that, I would definitely recommend this book to anyone looking for a deliberate character study, especially one within the context of Portuguese colonialism.
** Disclaimer: I received this book as an ARC through NetGalley but all opinions are my own **
Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux (FSG) and NetGalley for an advanced reader copy of Three Stories of Forgetting in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
'Three Stories of Forgetting' tells three interconnected stories that trace the lives of three men haunted by the legacies of slavery and colonialism. An aging slave trader, a disillusioned war veteran, and a former slave each grapple with guilt, memory, and exile in a world shaped by the wreckage of the Portuguese Empire. Their fates blur the line between historical reckoning and personal oblivion as they approach the end of their lives and reflect on their own stories.
I am confident this is an example of 'good book, wrong person'. Knowing little about the Portuguese slave trade (and honestly, Portugal in general), I was excited by the premise to hear great stories and learn something at the same time. However, this book did not give me what I wanted. These stories are character-driven reflection pieces where we spend our time lost in the reflections and thoughts of the men; their memories of the past intermingling with the present as they reflect on their lives and the world around them. As their health decays, hallucinations also play a role in their thoughts as the past they sometimes want to forget quite literally comes to haunt them. There's little by way of narrative, and what there is is awash in a sea of metaphor, extravagant prose, and a unique writing style. There were times I was flat out confused about what was going on. The three stories share a common theme but aren't linked or connected in any way, so while this enabled me to enter each story hopeful for a change in pace, it meant what I disliked about one was typically present across all three. The opening story about the sea captain was probably my favourite, while the former soldier's story was my least (and was also unfortunately the longest). The writer writes melancholy and regret really well, and despite not vibing with the book, it still gave me emotional pangs in places which are a credit to Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida. I'm sure there's plenty of people who will love this, and will see my review and assume I'm too low-brow for a book like this. And that may very well be true. But if you are a reader that likes a more narrative driven book like me, and prefer grounded stories over the abstract, I don't think this is for you.
Three Stories of Forgetting is a quiet, introspective collection that lingers in the space between personal memory and historical amnesia. Through three separate novellas, Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida explores themes of guilt, colonial legacies, identity, and the many shapes forgetting can take: intentional, unconscious, or protective.
The prose is lyrical and restrained, often more interested in mood than momentum. It doesn’t rush or try to impress. It invites you to sit still with uncomfortable truths, and that stillness is part of what makes the book so powerful.
For me, this wasn’t an emotionally distant read. Quite the opposite. It hit hard, often in unexpected ways. What made it so difficult and meaningful was that I wouldn’t have picked up a book like this on my own. I rarely reach for stories told from the perspective of those complicit in or responsible for historical violence. And yet here I was, reading from those perspectives— and worse, sympathising. That tension was hard to sit with. There were moments I had to pause and walk away, not because I felt detached, but because I felt too much. I didn’t want to feel sorry for these characters, and the fact that I did made the experience all the more complex.
That said, it’s not a book for everyone. If you need clear narrative arcs or resolution, this may feel abstract or emotionally ambiguous. But if you’re open to quiet, complicated storytelling that asks more questions than it answers, there’s a lot to unpack here.
I’m really grateful to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this. It challenged me deeply, and I’ll be thinking about it for a long time. With wars waging around us, this book is a haunting reminder of the consequences of war and genocide; not just for those who endure it, but for those forgotten after. If you’re looking for a neat conclusion or redemption, you probably won’t find it here. But if you’re open to sitting in the grey, in the ache, then maybe this book will leave its mark on you too.
Three Stories of Forgetting by Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida Translated by Alison Entrekin
A thoughtful, contemplative novel that follows the lives of three men whose stories illuminate Portugal’s colonial history. Each man is captured in the twilight of his life, moving toward death while reflecting on his past - his alienation, regrets and the ghosts that haunt him. They occupy different historical moments: Celestino, a Captain of slave ships; Boa Morte, a soldier in the Colonial War; and Bruma, an enslaved man. Though distinct, their stories echo one another in how the men are haunted by the violence, invisibility, and the longing for a small measure of peace.
Djaimilia’s writing is lyrical, haunting and poetic, vividly conveying the anguish and despair that shape these characters. The emotional centerpiece of the novel may be Boa Morte’s unsent letters to his estranged daughter. Each man finds solace in a connection to the earth - Celestino, in his flower garden, Boa Morte, in a community garden and Bruma, in his forest cabin - yet each also discovers that this solace can become a kind of cage.
This novel is a profound exploration of history, guilt and memory, asking readers to sit with uncomfortable burdens and to consider the cages, visible and invisible, that shape the human soul.
This is not a book for everyone, but readers who appreciate quiet, lyrical, contemplative storytelling and are drawn to melancholic refections, will find this journey into the colonial history of Portugal deeply rewarding.
É interessante perceber como três histórias aparentemente distintas conseguem interligar-se no trato, na forma como os protagonistas encaram o passado e no facto de a escravidão, o tráfico de escravos e a Guerra Colonial continuarem a pesar no presente.
Celestino, Boa Morte e Bruma partilham uma série de tormentos: uns por serem causa de sofrimento, outros por sentirem na pele as atrocidades cometidas. Além disso, conseguem espelhar, em simultâneo, a culpa, a ausência de remorsos, a sensibilidade e a noção de liberdade, mesmo quando não se é completamente livre. O ser humano não é só feito de luz e bondade, poderá alguém responsável por causar tanta dor ser digno de um final de vida descansado?
Já tinha lido a versão independente de Maremoto, por isso, concentrei-me nos outros dois títulos - A Visão das Plantas e Bruma. Embora também tenha gostado de os descobrir, sinto que Maremoto é mais coeso, mais relacionável; e talvez tenha uma sequência narrativa mais fácil de acompanhar. Por outro lado, creio que a autora construiu três personagens muito credíveis, que facilmente poderiam caminhar ao nosso lado.
Trois contes et trois hommes solitaires. Une langue magnifique, avec une très belle traduction de Dominique Nédellec. Un très grand livre de cette autrice portugaise, née en Angola, professeure à l’université de New York.
Dans La vision des plantes, Celestino est un ancien pirate, marchand d'esclaves, qui se vante d’avoir souvent tué. Retiré, il habite une petite maison, et passe ses journées à s’occuper du jardin.
Dans Raz-de-marée, le second conte, presque un livre, Boa Morte est un vieil homme venu d’Angola, qui vit presque dans la rue, gagnant quelques pièces en aidant les automobilistes à se garer dans la rue Antonio Maria Cardoso. Boa Morte adopte un chien errant, Jardel, et se lie avec Fatinha, une jeune clocharde, obèse, probablement schizophrène. En fait, Boa Morte écrit une longue lettre qu’il n’enverra jamais à la fille qu’il a abandonnée en Angola.
Plus courte, la troisième histoire, Brume, porte le nom de son protagoniste. Lui aussi venu d’Angola, il est domestique (ou esclave ?) dans la maison de ses maîtres. Brume se réfugie souvent dans la forêt, où il se construit une cabane.
Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida est incontestablement une grande écrivaine, qui sait manier la langue avec un talent remarquable.
Thank you NetGalley and Djaimilia Pereira de Almeida for an arc of this book!
I want to start off by saying that the writing in these three short stories was beautiful and captivating. However, I don’t think I entirely understood what was happening most of the time. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves to read about older stories that follow the lives of people who went through hard and difficult times. Throughout the book you learn about colonialism and slavery through the eyes of those that experienced them. The ghosts of these three characters from what I understand, tell their stories and live beside them even in their afterlife. You get to see their marks on the worlds and how their lives affected those they met and taught. Overall, this book had a great message to find peace within oneself and how to overcome oppression from others.
Três histórias, três homens e temas como a escravidão, tráfico de escravos e a Guerra Colonial. Podem os homens que cometem atrocidades viver e morrer descansados, a tratar de um jardim, por exemplo, como o Celestino? Como será carregar esse fardo da culpa, da consciência e do passado sujo de sangue, como o Boa Morte, e viver do que se escreve a uma filha que nunca o vai ler? E como é que Bruma é mais livre que um homem verdadeiramente livre? Gostei de todas as três histórias mas "Maremoto" entranhou-se mais, talvez porque a geografia faz parte de um quadro "familiar"que vemos diariamente, sem nunca sabermos que histórias guardam os Boa Morte e as Fatinhas com os quais nos cruzamos na rua.
Une écriture magnifique dans sa traduction française. La délicatesse d’une langue poétique parfois à la limite du fantastique pour dire l’expérience de l’esclavage sous trois forme, celle du négrier, passionné par son jardin, celle du serviteur du colon tentant de préserver l’humanité des laissés pour compte et celle de l’esclave et de son appétit pour les feuilletons. Une profonde tendresse marque cette écriture ainsi qu’un sens de l’Histoire. Superbe
Overall I'm having trouble gathering my thoughts on this book so I'm going to make a list.
Things I liked: -Interesting setting and perspectives -The third story, Bruma -the imagery in Bruma Bruma made me feel very emotional, it was written really beautifully.
Things I didn't like: -the first two stories were very boring for me I wanted to feel more for them but I was forcing myself to read.
The way the novel stretched and showed snippets of life for all three men was quite something: a very slow paced read showing the reader the way they passed life just waiting, with the past or the present haunting them making the wait to the end of the life heavy.
Got an ARC from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review.
character-driven, rather slow-paced reflections and introspections about three characters and their lives, all somehow connecrted to the Portugese slave trade. 4 stars. tysm for the arc.
“(…) porque debaixo do sol cabe tudo quanto há e tudo quanto houve, numa justaposição dos nascidos com os finados, do que murchou aqui com o que germinará nalguma parte.”
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing ARC for review.
“The present is dumb as a mule compared to the past, even when the past was a beast of burden.”
Three Stories of Forgetting is a quiet, introspective collection that examines memory, guilt, colonial legacies, and the fragile ways in which people carry — or suppress — their pasts. While each novella introduces a different protagonist, setting, and time period, they all orbit around similar themes: the weight of history, displacement, and the complex relationship between forgetting and survival. The prose throughout is evocative and often beautifully written, though sometimes veering into what some readers may find as overly elaborate. Almeida’s style is highly introspective, prioritizing mood and atmosphere over plot, which may resonate strongly with some readers, but might prove challenging for those who need a clearer narrative arc to remain engaged — as I’ve discovered about my own reading preferences. The first novella, A Vision of Plants (★★★✰✰), follows Captain Celestino, a retired sea captain who returns home to a house overtaken by nature. The garden, wild and indifferent, serves as both setting and metaphor for Celestino’s internal state: a man silently haunted by his past, complicit in the slave trade. The narrative is quiet, haunting, and laced with a sense of detachment. Celestino’s fading memory and nature’s indifferent rhythm create a powerful meditation on historical guilt and personal erasure. In Seaquake (★★✰✰✰), the second novella, Almeida shifts to a more confessional tone. Boa Morte, an Angolan man living in Lisbon, writes to his estranged daughter, reflecting on his current existence on the margins of society. Themes of invisibility, alienation, and displacement come into sharp focus here. Boa Morte describes himself as “a man without baggage, a sailor without a ship,” lost in a city where he and others like him move unseen, yet share in one another's silent pain. This story leans more into personal testimony, but its meandering narrative made it difficult for me to fully connect emotionally. The final novella, Bruma (★★✰✰✰), ventures even deeper into the realm of memory and imagination. Here, Bruma — an enslaved man reflecting on his life in early 19th-century Portugal — turns to stories and internal fantasy as a way to cope with brutal reality. His imagination becomes his refuge, helping him survive the harshness of his existence. As the novella progresses, the boundaries between fact and fantasy blur, and the reader is left questioning how much of Bruma’s account is memory and how much is invention. This ambiguity feels intentional, illustrating how memory and imagination can simultaneously preserve and distort one’s sense of self. Across all three novellas, Almeida explores the many forms of forgetting — deliberate, unconscious, protective — and the ways individuals navigate guilt, trauma, and identity when the weight of history threatens to overwhelm them. The recurring ambiguity — both in narrative and moral clarity — is one of the collection’s strengths, though it may also create a sense of emotional distance for some readers, as it did for me at times. I always do my best to give books a fair chance. While I appreciated the opportunity to read this collection, I found my engagement varied across the stories. The first story was the most successful for me, while the second felt difficult to connect with emotionally, and the third, while stronger than the second, still left me somewhat detached. Ultimately, I appreciate the important themes explored, the beautiful, if sometimes overly elaborate prose, and the psychological complexity of the characters. For readers who enjoy quiet, character-driven, thematically rich narratives with a strong focus on memory and history, Three Stories of Forgetting will likely prove rewarding.
Celestino est un ancien pirate, convoyeur d'esclaves. A la fin de sa vie, il revient dans la maison maternelle abandonnée. Il jette le superflu, consolide son habitat et surtout s'attaque au jardin. L'homme n'a pas son pareil pour faire pousser les fleurs et les légumes. Mais il creuse la terre comme s'il creusait son âme. Une âme tourmentée par d'affreux crimes d'esclaves et la mémoire d'une enfant abandonnée dans la forêt. Boa Morte, émigré angolais, traîne dans les rues de Lisbonne, malgré la douleur d'une hernie ombilicale. Il gagne quelques pièces en aidant les voitures à se garer. Avec son chien Jardel, il vit avec d'autres marginaux chez Madame Idalina. Sans cesse, il parle et écrit à sa fille restée au pays et il aide Fatinha, une SDF sans âge. Boa Morte aide tous ceux qui l'entourent comme pour rattraper tout ce qu'il a maltraité : son uniforme, sa femme, sa fille, son travail, sa maison. Brume, un esclave brésilien, est le personnage de la troisième histoire. Il échappe à sa condition en trouvant refuge dans la lecture et dans une cabane plusieurs fois détruite et reconstruite dans les bois. Le livre ne m’a pas paru fascinant. Je ne pense pas le recommander à l’avenir.