Ash from the Eyjafjallajökull volcano fills the skies. Flights are grounded throughout Europe. Dessie, a cosmopolitan flight attendant from Canada, finds herself stranded in Addis Ababa — her birth place.
Grieving her mother's recent death, Dessie heads to see her grandfather, the Shaleqa — compelled as much by duty as her own will. But Dessie's conflicted past stands in her way. Just as the volcano's eruption disordered Dessie's work life, so too does her mother's death cause seismic disruptions in the fine balance of self-deceptions and false histories that uphold her family.
As Dessie reacquaints herself with her grandfather's house, familiar yet strangely alien to her diasporic sensibilities, she pieces together the family secrets: the trauma of dictatorship and civil war, the shame of unwed motherhood, the abuse met with silence that gives shape to the mystery of her mother's life.
Reminiscent of the deeply immersive writing of Taiye Selasi and Arundhati Roy, Rebecca Fisseha's Daughters of Silence is psychologically astute and buoyed both by metaphor and by the vibrant colours of Ethiopia. It's an impressive debut.
Rebecca Fisseha is the author of Daughters of Silence (Goose Lane Editions, 2019), listed among the most anticipated fiction titles of Fall 2019 by CBC Books and 49th Shelf, and one of Quill & Quire’s breakout debuts of 2019. She was among CBC Books’ Six Black writers to watch in 2020. Her short stories, personal essays, and articles have appeared in various literary journals, including Room Magazine, Joyland, Lithub, and Zora by Medium. Forthcoming is a short story in the collection Addis Ababa Noir, edited by Maaza Mengiste (Akashic Books, 2020). Born in Ethiopia, Rebecca currently lives in Toronto.
Recently, CBC Books listed Daughters of Silence as one of 34 titles to watch this fall. It is definitely a well-written book with a good story based on Ethiopian culture (which was mostly unknown to me). Recommended.
A cosmopolitan flight attendant uncovers a family secret while on a layover in farflung Ethiopia. Sounds like a book that would be right up my alley (or doris) - but I'm not sure how much I got out of this one. Maybe because it took me almost 200 pages to really get into it. Admittedly, I've had a hard time feeling invested in most books since the pandemic started. But this one just seemed so slow... and then... I did not see the twist coming! And a satisfying conclusion that has left me thinking about these characters. My favorite part was the comment about being a postcard. 3.5 stars.
Hard to get into, and eventually draws you in. Lots to learn about Ethiopian culture. Heavy and triggering. Dark but ends with a beautiful message. Makes you rethink family (particularly families separated by countries).
Wow. This book took me on a wild ride I did not expect. I am incredibly grateful for the ending. Although it does have a slow start, for me it didn't feel that way because Fisseha describes every feeling and environment poetically which makes each sentence enjoyable. It gives you a lot to think about with diaspora/immigrant experiences in Canada, grief, mother and daughter relationships, secrets in families, and a critical look at forgiveness and redemption. I would've loved to read this with a book club, so many great talking points! The trigger warning includes sexual abuse.
Daughters of Silence held me in its grip for the entire length of the novel. Although I had an inkling where it was heading, it was still difficult to read when it happened. The title is apt and the full significance is unveiled along with family secrets. It made me reflect how much shame and silence buries women and how insidious it is. By keeping silent or being ordered to keep silent rather, women somehow take the mantle of shame and guilt when they are in fact the victims.
All the coy allusions- monthly flowers, triangle, checking time- makes me want to scream their corresponding true names: .
Appreciate the Amharic phrases and words sprinkled throughout the text as well as the depiction of returning Ethiopian diaspora experience. The names of the mother (Tobya, Zimita, Welete-Mikael) each represent a period of her life and the name of our protagonist, Dessie Mesfin Endale, is also the name of a place her mother hid out during The Terror. Both mother and daughter are mirrored not only by silence but in traditional nationalists like their grandfather's eyes, choosing mates perceived to be Ethiopia's enemies and nemesis - Eritrea and Talyan (Italian).
It struck me me how much Dessie yearned for sisters and sistership throughout her life; with fellow female Ethiopian university friends and the maids at her parent's house unfortunately to no avail, to protect and envelop her. There are many such moments of poignant realization that Ms Fisseha gives space to the reader to reach by themselves. For instance, the importance of Room 521 at Ghion Hotel and figuring out who Dessie's mother had spent the two weeks with the last time she visited Ethiopia.
Very riled up by Dessie's parents complete failure to protect her when she was young. Their ineffectual airy-fairy way of dealing with the problem is mind-boggling. This is the second book I've read in close succession where and it makes my blood boil. So again, I don't buy into the family forgiveness crap and 'it's for the good of the family' bullshit. Let us first name it for what it is, bring it out into the sunlight and then the affected person can decide how they want to proceed. At the same time, I wonder if despite being a fictional book, this may
Dessie is subject to emotional blackmail and manipulation that families seem so adept at (her grandfather, mother, father, brother) and it's true to life that there are no easy solutions. Stand up for oneself, refuse to be manipulated, be gnawed by guilt and proclaimed ungrateful. By the end of the novel, she achieves some semblance of balance of yielding and unyielding in her approach. We all hope for her to be empowered and gain peace. It's been awhile since I've been so invested in the fate and life of a character, Ms Fisseha has produced a compelling debut read. I will definitely check out her next work.
An intimate look at child abuse and family secrets. I found the abuse scenes difficult to read, and was frustrated by the adult protagonist’s passivity, though perhaps it is understandable. A strong debut novel.
Daughters of Silence is surprisingly similar to another book I read this year, Because I Have Loved and Hidden It, in that the story centers around women grappling with the untimely deaths of their mothers and the secret sisters their deaths unearthed.
This book was as beautiful as it was heartrending; the memories and confusion of Dessie, the protagonist, pull you in so that you're spending the days she's stranded in Ethiopia with her.
I must start this particular review with a disclaimer: I am disappointed. Beyond upset that I allowed this book to sit on my bookshelf, unread, collecting dust, for as long as I had. Daughters of Silence is an emotional journey surrounding intergenerational trauma, secrets and family told through the lens of grief.
When flight attendant Dessie’s plane is grounded in her home country of Ethiopia, after the recent death of her mother, Dessie is forced to confront family she hasn’t seen in almost twenty years, while going through the cycle of grief, and processing her own childhood traumas stemming from her family.
Daughters of Silence had a familiarity with it that felt almost welcoming despite the heavy subject matter and overall darkness that accompanies a story of grief. Across Canadian media, we can see a motif of intergenerational conflicts and family trauma; especially through storytelling that is heavily reliant on cultural identity and/or immigration as a thematic device. These themes are ones I studied heavily during my final year of my theatre degree, and while reading Daughters of Silence, I found myself constantly drawing parallels between Fasseha’s novel, and plays by Wajdi Mouawad, Ins Choi and Betty Quan.
Throughout reading this book, I kept having an immediate need to go hug my mother, and it served as a reminder of how lucky I am to still have her, as many others aren’t so lucky. A line in Chapter 7 tugged especially hard at my heartstrings:
“I’d learned, in the seconds it took Aba to whisper in my ear, ‘she didn’t make it,’ as if it was a dirty little family secret, how impossible it is to love a mother as absolutely as she deserves to be loved until after she is gone. What better company for the departed than the aura of a child’s pure adoration”
I don’t have much specificity to go into about the book. But I absolutely loved it, I wish I had read it earlier, I foresee it still being at the top of my favourites list at year-end, and I will probably re-read it many times in the future.
This is a well written book about a young woman who finds herself trapped in her home country of Ethiopia due to what an insurance company would call an "act of God." As the whole world waited for a resolution to this event, Fisseha’s main character, Dessie, had no choice but to deal with her mother's death and other family trauma in the home of her domineering grandfather.
There is a real oppressive feeling of trauma in this book, which, unfortunately can get a bit tedious. But Fisseha does a good job of pulling that back in key ways by showing glimpses of humour and sweetness. I wish there was a bit more of that.
One of the greatest strengths is the way Fisseha drafts her characters. Some of them behave outrageously, yet they are perfectly believable. The reader understands their motivations and sees their contradictions.
I was a dissatisfied by the ending. The only way for the main character to get any real justice would be to build a time machine, so Fisseha must balance the character moving on with her life while still feeling wronged. Moreover, there are questions she never gets answers to (such is life) and there are still more questions for her at the end of the story. All of that is great. However, for one of the major storylines in the book, we get a bow tie ending and, I don’t think it fit the narrative style of the novel and it weakened the whole story for me.
Debut novel published in 2019. Author was born in Ethiopia and book is set in Addis Ababa. A cosmopolitan flight attendant from Canada finds herself stranded in Addis Ababa due to a volcano eruption (was interesting to find out that Eyjafjallajökull isn't fictional, and is in fact E15 of Iceland - most recent eruption was in 2010, when, although relatively small for a volcanic eruption, it caused enormous disruption to air travel across northern and western Europe for a week). While grappling with the recent death of her mother she connects with her family in Ethiopia. A lot was going on in this book and its very well written. It did seem to focus heavily on parts, and skim on others. Overall a good read.
It’s hard to say much about this book without giving spoilers. Part of what I appreciated was how the author told bits at a time, and you knew there was a lot more to the narrator’s story. It felt a bit like getting to know someone in real life. The author really explored how our family ties can be so difficult to navigate. I appreciated learning more about Ethiopian culture.
I love this book, it is a story about generational trauma and forgiveness. The story has a very sensitive matter and the culture of keeping silent within a family can be really traumatizing. It is written very honestly and is emotional. Highly recommend this book
There was some good bones here but the first half of the book just didn’t cut it. A bit cliche. A toe-dip into the unreliable narrator pool (a structure I dislike in general). The last half saved this, but it sure took awhile to get through the first half to get there.
4.5⭐️ the writing is brilliant. I gave it less then 5 stars, because I had to put the book down for weeks because the content is very triggering and somewhat hard to digest closer to the end. Trigger warnings: child abuse, rape. However I can’t give it less then 4.5, because it’s outstanding. Bravo!