This was a very hard thing to read; in her quest for realism, the author abandoned any sugar coating and the voices of women recounting brutality come at you in a stream of consciousness style, so it seeps into your mind even more. If you're sensitive to being triggered by depictions of rape, torture, and murder, maybe it's best to stay away from it, I think maybe 70% of the book consists of those.
At the same time, it's not just gore delivered masterfully so you can feel its full horror. The book also manages to describe the motivations of women involved in the Shining Path insurrection movement, and how, in their naivety, they thought the communist ideals they were signing up for meant they could conquer the elusive gender equality once and for all. Of course, it turned out to be out of their grasp even after the movement asked so much sacrifice on their behalf. It was still women who got the raw deal out of it.
Some great excerpts (non-triggery):
"Power was what was real. Was that what shone in Fernanda’s eyes?
Applause announced the end and I dared to ask a question.
“Leaders of the group Red Nation say that we women will be in charge of feeding the troops.” A few laughs ricocheted around the hall. “What I want to know, professor, is this: What role in the revolution does your party offer us women?”
He raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses, fixed his gaze on me and cleared his throat. The incorporation of women into the production process, coupled with the deepening of the class struggle in this country, necessarily poses the central problem of the politicization of women as an integral part of the people’s war. The State, increasingly reactionary, denies women the future. The only possible path for professional women is taking up the role that history demands of them as intellectuals: participating in the revolution. I saw it all, as if a beaming light coming out of his throat had pierced the center of my chest and radiated within me to dispel any speck of darkness. His was the only path possible. His words could change the world, could write history. Women fully included in the revolution. Now I understood the sparkle in Fernanda’s eyes."
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“Lying in bed, I look at the ceiling of my cell and remember the day I got married. My husband. Our honeymoon, and his entering me. Right when he entered me, I saw it all. A complete scene. There would come children. A house. A kitchen. Work, too, but add onto it everything else. It jolted me. He jolted in me and thrust inside diapers, plates, kitchen, dress, makeup, over and over and on for evermore. Everything within. It cascaded over me like a landslide. A perfectly staged scene, laid out for me since birth. A path with no exit, the same one that’s laid for every woman for having been born thus. My time wrung dry, sand spent from the hourglass, a horse with its eyes blinkered. Keep on going, ask no questions. The only path available to you. I saw it all. Suffocated. I adapted, mounted him. I rode him but there were no reins. The countryside stretched on, could keep stretching on further. But he was still inside me, thrusting. I didn’t have the reins.”