Set over one night, on a bus journey from Barcelona to Bilbao Irene, an amnestied participant in the Basque armed struggle for independence, but with her reputation for reliability compromised by having been amnestied, reflects on participation, relationships, time in prison, and does her best to manage engagement with the others on the bus. Atxaga uses the flashback technique well – sometimes in dreams, sometimes in conversation, sometimes in quiet reflection, with each form taking a different dynamic from affectionate memories of cell-mates to bitter dreams of apparent betrayal and denigration by men in the movement.
He also grants gender dynamics and relations a central role in key aspects of the story – with support and solidarity from the least expected of sources, and manipulative men who play almost to archetype, while still managing to destabilise those forms. This means that a lot goes on for a story in which not very much happens – that is, a woman gets on a bus, has some conversations but for the most part keeps to herself, and the journey ends at its destination. Atxaga’s skill is in building narrative tension, releasing snippets of information, and only granting us insight to developments as Irene learns of them – effectively keeping her the central figure of the story even as her agency waxes and wanes.
Elegantly told, beautifully written (and all power to the translator there also), this story of uncertainty, dislocation, rupture from all that was known (there’s nothing more isolated that an unreliable activist in a clandestine network), is left open ended, but with an option of redemption in world of women. All in all, then, this is a gorgeous tale of a moment of forced change both despite and because of that perceived unreliability. It’s very literary, and thoroughly engaging. Quite a treat.