Two stories unfold in conversation with one another: a woman named simply A. lives her life in a city in which she didn’t grow up, spends her nights dancing at bars, nannies a rambunctious child, and recovers from an operation that removed her reproductive organs while building a tenuous relationship with a man called N.
Meanwhile, we read excerpts from a book, ‘Field Notes’ by Tomas Petritus, which recounts the mothers of missing children as they congregate and speak out against government violence in N.’s home country. A. discovers this book one night, compelled by the true crime narrative, and eventually sets out to translate the text and uncover the truth behind these mothers’ stories.
What she finds will have her considering what it means to be a mother, the profound effects of grief, and the risk of raising our voice in the face of state violence.
This is a quiet novel about heavy topics. But all of the action happens off the page, and we, along with the narrator, are left to observe from a distance the effects of these impactful moments. We don’t necessarily experience them ourselves, just as with history we can only look back and try to understand what went on, who was affected, and what it all means.
I appreciated this approach; rather than turning this into a violent, plot-driven story about government violence, it shows how powerful people, especially men, can make decisions, often on a whim, that ripple out and touch so many lives, often for the worse. It creates a chorus of voices, of female voices, that echo across time and space to tell a similar story, regardless of borders, background or birthplace.