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The Dust Never Settles
'I have seen ghosts. They will not rest. The whispers of the past are all around...'
Anaïs Echeverría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the notorious 'yellow house' that looms over the sprawling capital below, its history woven into the fabric of the city. But concealed within its walls are spectres from the past that demand her attention, the echoing voices of the family who lived in this grand home, and the injustices on which both the country and the house were built.
In Lima, where elapsed time coats every surface like a layer of fine dust, these ghosts will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for. And, while Anaïs comes to terms with her history, the present threatens to overwhelm her. Pregnant, nervous and alone, what begins as an uneasy homecoming soon becomes a reckoning with secrets that refuse to stay buried.
Perfect for fans of Isabel Allende and Kazuo Ishiguro, this hauntingly beautiful debut will seduce, entice and mesmerise.
Anaïs Echeverría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the notorious 'yellow house' that looms over the sprawling capital below, its history woven into the fabric of the city. But concealed within its walls are spectres from the past that demand her attention, the echoing voices of the family who lived in this grand home, and the injustices on which both the country and the house were built.
In Lima, where elapsed time coats every surface like a layer of fine dust, these ghosts will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for. And, while Anaïs comes to terms with her history, the present threatens to overwhelm her. Pregnant, nervous and alone, what begins as an uneasy homecoming soon becomes a reckoning with secrets that refuse to stay buried.
Perfect for fans of Isabel Allende and Kazuo Ishiguro, this hauntingly beautiful debut will seduce, entice and mesmerise.
384 pages, Hardcover
First published October 7, 2021
34 people are currently reading
1414 people want to read
About the author
Karina Lickorish Quinn
6 books21 followersKarina Lickorish Quinn is a Peruvian-British writer who grew up between the English Midlands, Lima and New York. Her fiction, essays and translations have been published in diverse literary journals including The Offing, Asymptote, the Journal of Latina Critical Feminism, Palabritas, and Longitudines.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 56 reviews
October 4, 2021
4.5 stars.
Highly ambitious for a debut, this is so impressive. Avoid if you are allergic to magical realism and/or non-linear narratives. Pick up if you are into 'centuries of nation's history (Peru in this case) told via one family bloodline' or 'generational trauma manifests as literal ghosts' or 'trippy, surrealist litfic, but with an actual point'. I will be back to articulate my thoughts into a proper review when my head has stopped spinning.
Highly ambitious for a debut, this is so impressive. Avoid if you are allergic to magical realism and/or non-linear narratives. Pick up if you are into 'centuries of nation's history (Peru in this case) told via one family bloodline' or 'generational trauma manifests as literal ghosts' or 'trippy, surrealist litfic, but with an actual point'. I will be back to articulate my thoughts into a proper review when my head has stopped spinning.
October 18, 2021
My thanks to Oneworld Publications and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.
The Dust Never Settles is described by the author as her ‘love letter’ to her country Peru. Opening with mythology/origin stories which tie in to the book wonderfully later, we are introduced to Anaïs Echeverría who has a Peruvian mother and English father and has been raised in Peru, though living from the past 7 years in England. Anaïs is just returning to Peru to sign off papers for the sale of her family home, the yellow house on the hill, to developers who are to demolish it and construct a block of luxury flats. But the yellow house on the hill, with its ‘bedrooms upon bedrooms’ and filled with ‘multitudes of possessions’ belonging to those of the family who lived there in the past, and lots and lost of cats, is no ordinary family home:
It was Time that crowded into the casona, rising from the mound of earth below its foundations, rolling in from the sea, passing down from the neblina that shrouded the sky above. Time accumulated, thick and insistent like the Limenean dust from all directions. The very house seemed to breathe it in, to squeeze moments, lived and not yet lived, into its walls, its floors, into its empty spaces…
The house is not merely a building but a place where the past and present seem to live side by side. And Anaïs can see and experience it all—those that have lived there in the past can communicate with her. Anaïs has returned for a seemingly simple task, yet once she returns, her deep connect with her country and with the house come comes right to the surface—from her almost visceral reaction at breathing in the air when she lands at the airport, to seeing how the traditional homes and quarters are being replaced with modern apartments—the same as in any part of the world—she begins to put off signing the papers, and live in the house. Her mind is in a hazy space seeing and experiencing the house’s past and not quite able to function as ‘normal’, almost hallucinating about herself as well. She must deal with not only the house’s and her family’s past but also her own troubled relationship with her parents, and at some level also with her English fiancé, Rupert with whom she is expecting a child.
Alongside, in alternate chapters (numbered in Spanish), we follow the story of Julia Alvarez Yupanqui, a seventeen-year-old who worked as a maid for the Echeverrías, and fell to her death from a balcony in the yellow house, only to be resurrected as a saint. Through the eyes of Santa Julia, who works small miracles for common people, we see the story of Peru—from the arrival of colonizers to slavers and slaves, immigrant workers from China and Japan to Spaniards who created a new identity for themselves (including the early Echeverrías)—from those who lost their cultures attempting to preserve what little they could in new ways to those who faced violence and exploitation in different ways, from the revolution that never turned out the way people expected it to, to the plight of the poor in the present (all these are more like snapshots than a continuously flowing narrative), we see the different facets that together form the story of Peru while also getting a look into Julia’s own story and family.
This is a complex and rather strange story with many layers. The writing is quite beautiful and in some places, also rather raw, with a narrative in which lines blur between the real and imaginary, the past and present, memory and story, ghosts and the living.
Anaïs’ narrative was the more challenging one for me. While on the one side, I could understand the issues she grappled with—of identity (particularly the Peruvian identity she seems to be losing since she is half English, the child she is expecting even more so), of her relationship with her parents (more so her mother; but also her father—neither of them seem to really care for her), and also of the changing face of Peru (this aspect—the houses losing their character and changing into concrete blocks of luxurious flats like anywhere in the world—was something I could relate to since I’m seeing this in my neighbourhood as well, though this is nowhere as old or traditional as hers). On the other was her state of mind, the constant dreamy territory in which she floats, paranoia even—not quite able to function in real world terms—which made it feel like as a reader I too was in a floaty space in which I couldn’t make sense of things and couldn’t at any point have my feet firmly on the ground. At the end too, while there are some answers, as to her story, I felt there was a note of ambiguity where one couldn’t be sure what lay ahead.
Julia’s story, even though she was a ‘ghost’ of sorts, somehow made me feel more comfortable. She too navigates between past, present and future and gives us a sense and more so, a ‘feel’ of the country—the pain, the loss, the violence, the exploitation, and frustrated dreams and also the smaller everyday troubles of bureaucracy, red tape—all of which lies underneath its surface, and also of the small threads of hope that were/are there for people to hang on to and live by.
There was a lot that I liked in the book—the writing for the most part, the use of the time–space notion (time and space as one) by the author, and the sense it gave us of the yellow house on the hill, and also the country; the broader issues like loss of culture and identity for people when colonised and loss of character for cities when they ‘modernise’ among others give one plenty to reflect on as well. I also liked how the mythological background and some of what Anaïs is experiencing and Julia’s story tied in together as well as the resolution of some aspects at the end. But somehow with this book, particularly Anaïs’ narrative as I mentioned, there is always this feeling of being unsettled, not really knowing where one is. So overall a book that was absorbing, and yet, one where one does feel a little lost as well.
4 stars.
The Dust Never Settles is described by the author as her ‘love letter’ to her country Peru. Opening with mythology/origin stories which tie in to the book wonderfully later, we are introduced to Anaïs Echeverría who has a Peruvian mother and English father and has been raised in Peru, though living from the past 7 years in England. Anaïs is just returning to Peru to sign off papers for the sale of her family home, the yellow house on the hill, to developers who are to demolish it and construct a block of luxury flats. But the yellow house on the hill, with its ‘bedrooms upon bedrooms’ and filled with ‘multitudes of possessions’ belonging to those of the family who lived there in the past, and lots and lost of cats, is no ordinary family home:
It was Time that crowded into the casona, rising from the mound of earth below its foundations, rolling in from the sea, passing down from the neblina that shrouded the sky above. Time accumulated, thick and insistent like the Limenean dust from all directions. The very house seemed to breathe it in, to squeeze moments, lived and not yet lived, into its walls, its floors, into its empty spaces…
The house is not merely a building but a place where the past and present seem to live side by side. And Anaïs can see and experience it all—those that have lived there in the past can communicate with her. Anaïs has returned for a seemingly simple task, yet once she returns, her deep connect with her country and with the house come comes right to the surface—from her almost visceral reaction at breathing in the air when she lands at the airport, to seeing how the traditional homes and quarters are being replaced with modern apartments—the same as in any part of the world—she begins to put off signing the papers, and live in the house. Her mind is in a hazy space seeing and experiencing the house’s past and not quite able to function as ‘normal’, almost hallucinating about herself as well. She must deal with not only the house’s and her family’s past but also her own troubled relationship with her parents, and at some level also with her English fiancé, Rupert with whom she is expecting a child.
Alongside, in alternate chapters (numbered in Spanish), we follow the story of Julia Alvarez Yupanqui, a seventeen-year-old who worked as a maid for the Echeverrías, and fell to her death from a balcony in the yellow house, only to be resurrected as a saint. Through the eyes of Santa Julia, who works small miracles for common people, we see the story of Peru—from the arrival of colonizers to slavers and slaves, immigrant workers from China and Japan to Spaniards who created a new identity for themselves (including the early Echeverrías)—from those who lost their cultures attempting to preserve what little they could in new ways to those who faced violence and exploitation in different ways, from the revolution that never turned out the way people expected it to, to the plight of the poor in the present (all these are more like snapshots than a continuously flowing narrative), we see the different facets that together form the story of Peru while also getting a look into Julia’s own story and family.
This is a complex and rather strange story with many layers. The writing is quite beautiful and in some places, also rather raw, with a narrative in which lines blur between the real and imaginary, the past and present, memory and story, ghosts and the living.
Anaïs’ narrative was the more challenging one for me. While on the one side, I could understand the issues she grappled with—of identity (particularly the Peruvian identity she seems to be losing since she is half English, the child she is expecting even more so), of her relationship with her parents (more so her mother; but also her father—neither of them seem to really care for her), and also of the changing face of Peru (this aspect—the houses losing their character and changing into concrete blocks of luxurious flats like anywhere in the world—was something I could relate to since I’m seeing this in my neighbourhood as well, though this is nowhere as old or traditional as hers). On the other was her state of mind, the constant dreamy territory in which she floats, paranoia even—not quite able to function in real world terms—which made it feel like as a reader I too was in a floaty space in which I couldn’t make sense of things and couldn’t at any point have my feet firmly on the ground. At the end too, while there are some answers, as to her story, I felt there was a note of ambiguity where one couldn’t be sure what lay ahead.
Julia’s story, even though she was a ‘ghost’ of sorts, somehow made me feel more comfortable. She too navigates between past, present and future and gives us a sense and more so, a ‘feel’ of the country—the pain, the loss, the violence, the exploitation, and frustrated dreams and also the smaller everyday troubles of bureaucracy, red tape—all of which lies underneath its surface, and also of the small threads of hope that were/are there for people to hang on to and live by.
There was a lot that I liked in the book—the writing for the most part, the use of the time–space notion (time and space as one) by the author, and the sense it gave us of the yellow house on the hill, and also the country; the broader issues like loss of culture and identity for people when colonised and loss of character for cities when they ‘modernise’ among others give one plenty to reflect on as well. I also liked how the mythological background and some of what Anaïs is experiencing and Julia’s story tied in together as well as the resolution of some aspects at the end. But somehow with this book, particularly Anaïs’ narrative as I mentioned, there is always this feeling of being unsettled, not really knowing where one is. So overall a book that was absorbing, and yet, one where one does feel a little lost as well.
4 stars.
January 29, 2024
“Is it always this way with places we have loved? We visit them in our dreams - how many times?- and trace our way through the rooms in our mind. We imagine ourselves standing in the hall and feel the space around us.”
Love the writing!
It is haunting and quite atmospheric.
I fell for the cover and the title but it’s the story and the characters that will stay with me forever.
I love the writing so much!
The suspense in the plot, the character development, the darkest secrets of the family; it is a story about identity and rediscovering our roots: everything clicks and it just made into one of my most memorable reads.
I would say if you love the writing of Sylvia Platt, Delia Owens, Kristin Hannah you can just go for this book without thinking twice.
I say expect a dark tale. Take your time. It’s worth it.
It’s just sad, dark and beautiful ❤️🩹
Love the writing!
It is haunting and quite atmospheric.
I fell for the cover and the title but it’s the story and the characters that will stay with me forever.
I love the writing so much!
The suspense in the plot, the character development, the darkest secrets of the family; it is a story about identity and rediscovering our roots: everything clicks and it just made into one of my most memorable reads.
I would say if you love the writing of Sylvia Platt, Delia Owens, Kristin Hannah you can just go for this book without thinking twice.
I say expect a dark tale. Take your time. It’s worth it.
It’s just sad, dark and beautiful ❤️🩹
September 21, 2022
Bueno, a ver cómo hablo yo de ‘El polvo nunca se asienta’ porque no es fácil. ¿Cómo hablar de un libro que abarca lo inabarcable? ¿Es posible condensar en una novela la historia de una y mil vidas? ¿La historia de una casa, pero también de un país? ¿De una familia y también de un pueblo? ¿Unir la vida y la muerte? ¿Es posible hacerlo y que además salga bien? Asombrosamente, si, es posible y, además, es una delicia de experiencia lectora.
Esta es la historia de una vuelta a casa, la de Anais, que emigró a Londres desde Lima años atrás, buscando dejar a atrás el peso de una infancia complicada, marcada por el silencio, muertes y una maldición. Pero también es la de Julia, quien murió cayendo por una ventana y acabó convirtiéndose en santa. Y la de las familias y antepasados de ambas, de los fantasmas que aún habitan la casa de los Echevarria. Una casa amarilla, que es, sin duda, uno de los protagonistas de la novela. Y por supuesto, es la historia de Perú.
Una novela que es mucho más que una saga familiar, que trasciende a la ficción histórica y también a la contemporánea. ¡Tiene hasta una ópera! Una novela con un realismo mágico brillante, original, inolvidable. Llena de metáforas y simbología. Evocadora y sensorial en extremo.
La prosa es de otro mundo, no me ha podido gustar más: libre, evocadora, sensorial. He releído párrafos por puro placer. Originalmente escrita en inglés, la novela nos llega a través de una reescritura de Eric Levit Mora (disculpadme, pero es que decir traducción me sabe a poco y estoy segura de que si leéis esta edición estaréis de acuerdo conmigo).
Contrariamente a lo que el ‘polvo’ del título evoca, me he encontrado una novela viva, llena de colores, naturaleza y sueños. ¿Sabéis lo que es la sinestesia?
La condición de de oír colores, de ver sonidos o de apreciar texturas cuando saborea algo. Pues esta novela es absolutamente sinéstésica, mientras leía había momentos que no veía letras, solo colores, formas, animales, movimiento, delirio… hay páginas que te sumergen en un trance que, al terminar, quizá no puedas decir lo que has leído, pero lo has visto y lo has vivido. Parece LSD, pero es literatura.
Capaz de convertir el tiempo en un rio navegable, hacia delante y atrás. Lleno de peces en forma de personajes, unos que aparecen una y otra vez, y otros con los que te quedas con ganas de saber mucho más. Un río al que volver una y otra vez, porque sientes que cuando regreses a este libro, quizás haya cambiado y encuentres algo nuevo, o quizá tu seas otro y puedas leerlo con nuevos ojos.
Si me preguntas, para mí, este libro es una joya.
Esta es la historia de una vuelta a casa, la de Anais, que emigró a Londres desde Lima años atrás, buscando dejar a atrás el peso de una infancia complicada, marcada por el silencio, muertes y una maldición. Pero también es la de Julia, quien murió cayendo por una ventana y acabó convirtiéndose en santa. Y la de las familias y antepasados de ambas, de los fantasmas que aún habitan la casa de los Echevarria. Una casa amarilla, que es, sin duda, uno de los protagonistas de la novela. Y por supuesto, es la historia de Perú.
Una novela que es mucho más que una saga familiar, que trasciende a la ficción histórica y también a la contemporánea. ¡Tiene hasta una ópera! Una novela con un realismo mágico brillante, original, inolvidable. Llena de metáforas y simbología. Evocadora y sensorial en extremo.
La prosa es de otro mundo, no me ha podido gustar más: libre, evocadora, sensorial. He releído párrafos por puro placer. Originalmente escrita en inglés, la novela nos llega a través de una reescritura de Eric Levit Mora (disculpadme, pero es que decir traducción me sabe a poco y estoy segura de que si leéis esta edición estaréis de acuerdo conmigo).
Contrariamente a lo que el ‘polvo’ del título evoca, me he encontrado una novela viva, llena de colores, naturaleza y sueños. ¿Sabéis lo que es la sinestesia?
La condición de de oír colores, de ver sonidos o de apreciar texturas cuando saborea algo. Pues esta novela es absolutamente sinéstésica, mientras leía había momentos que no veía letras, solo colores, formas, animales, movimiento, delirio… hay páginas que te sumergen en un trance que, al terminar, quizá no puedas decir lo que has leído, pero lo has visto y lo has vivido. Parece LSD, pero es literatura.
Capaz de convertir el tiempo en un rio navegable, hacia delante y atrás. Lleno de peces en forma de personajes, unos que aparecen una y otra vez, y otros con los que te quedas con ganas de saber mucho más. Un río al que volver una y otra vez, porque sientes que cuando regreses a este libro, quizás haya cambiado y encuentres algo nuevo, o quizá tu seas otro y puedas leerlo con nuevos ojos.
Si me preguntas, para mí, este libro es una joya.
November 3, 2024
Novela con alma.
La voz protagonista es fresca y original, en un entorno costumbrista, familiar y social, al que se opone de forma rupturista. Y esa voz lo abarca todo con sus giros, su interpretación personal, y realismo mágico, enlazando con sueños y fantasmas las generaciones anteriores de la familia y el pais en los cinco siglos anteriores.
Narración poética con trazos surrealistas y ritmo vertiginoso que fluye a veces incluso sin apenas acción exterior, gran parte de los pasajes se basan en la voz interior de la protagonista y sus recuerdos, con un marcado tono onírico casi en toda la novela.
La traducción por Editorial Arde es deslumbrante.
He leído además La casa de la piel, el relato de la autora publicado aparte en un pequeño volumen y con el que confirma su estilo, arriesgado desde lo predecible a lo innovador, como si describiera un camino conocido y ya recorrido que sin embargo con sus palabras te lleva a un lugar único y genuino.
Para mí, lectura sobresaliente.
La voz protagonista es fresca y original, en un entorno costumbrista, familiar y social, al que se opone de forma rupturista. Y esa voz lo abarca todo con sus giros, su interpretación personal, y realismo mágico, enlazando con sueños y fantasmas las generaciones anteriores de la familia y el pais en los cinco siglos anteriores.
Narración poética con trazos surrealistas y ritmo vertiginoso que fluye a veces incluso sin apenas acción exterior, gran parte de los pasajes se basan en la voz interior de la protagonista y sus recuerdos, con un marcado tono onírico casi en toda la novela.
La traducción por Editorial Arde es deslumbrante.
He leído además La casa de la piel, el relato de la autora publicado aparte en un pequeño volumen y con el que confirma su estilo, arriesgado desde lo predecible a lo innovador, como si describiera un camino conocido y ya recorrido que sin embargo con sus palabras te lleva a un lugar único y genuino.
Para mí, lectura sobresaliente.
December 7, 2022
This is so impressively beautiful and expansive. Looking forward to seeing what Lickorish Quinn does next!
July 6, 2022
No exagero si digo que no he subido antes la reseña de “El polvo nunca se asienta”, de Karina Lickorish Quinn, porque no sabía cómo enfocarla y hablar de semejante obra.
Empezaré diciendo que es una de mis mejores lecturas en lo que va de año; como buena amante del realismo mágico, diré que el estilo que despliega aquí la autora solo está al alcance de unos pocos. Un realismo mágico bello y poético, evocador, con frases dignas de ser enmarcadas.
Enfocado en la historia de dos mujeres (Julia y Anaïs), esta novela no trata ni más ni menos que de la historia de Perú. Desde los Incas a nuestro tiempo, la historia pasa por cada etapa de la vida de este país a través de los ojos de Julia y Anaïs en un despliegue de originalidad, lirismo y calidad literaria de alto nivel.
La parte de Julia me ha parecido sublime, de una belleza y un buen gusto inconmensurables y con una capacidad narrativa que roza, para mi gusto, la perfección. El realismo mágico del que se sirve la autora para adentrarnos en esta parte está al alcance del mismísimo García Márquez o la gran Allende, adentrarse en el mundo de Julia es adentrarse en El Perú, en su gente, en su alma. Un realismo mágico cuya magia hace sentir que todo es real, que conquista y enamora.
Y luego está Anaïs que, aunque he llegado a quererla y entenderla un poco más gracias a ese sublime final, debo reconocer que en algunas partes de la obra ha conseguido sacarme de la historia, quizá por ese realismo mágico que me pareció más un realismo loco, por estar situada en el momento presente o por la comparación con la otra parte, pero lo cierto es que este otro personaje pilar de la historia me ha parecido más hueco, menos intenso, menos “creíble” y conmovedor.
Como digo, una historia redonda de principio a fin, salvando algún escollo que con una visión global de la obra se queda en nada, este libro ha sido una de las grandes sorpresas de mi 2022 literario. Un libro con todos los ingredientes que hacen que una historia me conquiste: realismo mágico, saga familiar, historia… Simplemente genial.
Empezaré diciendo que es una de mis mejores lecturas en lo que va de año; como buena amante del realismo mágico, diré que el estilo que despliega aquí la autora solo está al alcance de unos pocos. Un realismo mágico bello y poético, evocador, con frases dignas de ser enmarcadas.
Enfocado en la historia de dos mujeres (Julia y Anaïs), esta novela no trata ni más ni menos que de la historia de Perú. Desde los Incas a nuestro tiempo, la historia pasa por cada etapa de la vida de este país a través de los ojos de Julia y Anaïs en un despliegue de originalidad, lirismo y calidad literaria de alto nivel.
La parte de Julia me ha parecido sublime, de una belleza y un buen gusto inconmensurables y con una capacidad narrativa que roza, para mi gusto, la perfección. El realismo mágico del que se sirve la autora para adentrarnos en esta parte está al alcance del mismísimo García Márquez o la gran Allende, adentrarse en el mundo de Julia es adentrarse en El Perú, en su gente, en su alma. Un realismo mágico cuya magia hace sentir que todo es real, que conquista y enamora.
Y luego está Anaïs que, aunque he llegado a quererla y entenderla un poco más gracias a ese sublime final, debo reconocer que en algunas partes de la obra ha conseguido sacarme de la historia, quizá por ese realismo mágico que me pareció más un realismo loco, por estar situada en el momento presente o por la comparación con la otra parte, pero lo cierto es que este otro personaje pilar de la historia me ha parecido más hueco, menos intenso, menos “creíble” y conmovedor.
Como digo, una historia redonda de principio a fin, salvando algún escollo que con una visión global de la obra se queda en nada, este libro ha sido una de las grandes sorpresas de mi 2022 literario. Un libro con todos los ingredientes que hacen que una historia me conquiste: realismo mágico, saga familiar, historia… Simplemente genial.
April 8, 2022
4.5 / 5 stars. magical, ambitious, thoughtful.
May 29, 2022
I loved this so much! What a beautiful, ambitious, and captivating piece of work. Márquez who?
June 23, 2023
The Dust Never Settles has two different narratives and timelines that eventually converge into one. The chapters alternate from Anaïs’ life in the present, to various moments in the history of the ‘yellow house’ and the people who are connected to it many generations ago. It’s an interesting way to tell this story and as more is revealed about the past and how different people are connected, sometimes in the smallest ways, it makes what Anaïs is experiencing in the present more grounded. Because Anaïs isn’t sure what she’s experiencing – and to be honest, neither did I a lot of the time. Anaïs is seeing ghosts, the world around her keeps changing, and as time goes on it’s clear she never really dealt with her grief of losing her mother. There’s also the fact that because Anaïs left Lima so long ago, being back she starts to feel like she’s been denying herself her heritage and culture. While her white British fiancé sees her as an expert in all things Peruvian, Anaïs soon realises that the locals see her as a tourist and don’t recognise that she is really one of them.
I really liked the vibes of The Dust Never Settles but after a while the actual story started to be a bit of a slog. The vibes are immaculate with the magical realism and the uncertainty of what’s supernatural or what’s not. There’s also the ‘yellow house’ itself which is a really vivid setting and one of the aspects of the story I liked the most. It’s a house that has seen a lot, good and bad, and it’s like a living tomb of Anaïs’ relatives who have all either left the house or died.
The Dust Never Settles’ story meanders quite a lot. The writing style won’t be for everyone and it often seemed to drift from one idea or metaphor to another. While Anaïs appears to be slowly losing her grip on reality, you then have chapters set in the 1500s, following a character that seems completely random but then half a dozen chapters later you see how that character’s descendants then met someone’s relatives who is connected to the Echevarria or is the ancestor to a side character we’ve met in the present. Some may love this kind of storytelling, but after a while I just found that I didn’t really care.
That’s also how I felt about Anaïs after a while – especially in regards to her relationship with her fiancé. He didn’t seem like a nice bloke and I was often left wondering if she ended up with him because it was convenient and whether she loved him at all.
Overall, I found the first half of The Dust Never Settles interesting because of the vibes, the house, and how different it was to anything I’d read recently. But then, the latter half of the book started to drag for me as I didn’t feel like the characters had much of an arc and it was the same vibes and repetitive plot of seeing things in the past and then seeing how they were connected to the present. I think The Dust Never Settles is an ambitious novel, but it isn’t one that really worked for me in the end.
I really liked the vibes of The Dust Never Settles but after a while the actual story started to be a bit of a slog. The vibes are immaculate with the magical realism and the uncertainty of what’s supernatural or what’s not. There’s also the ‘yellow house’ itself which is a really vivid setting and one of the aspects of the story I liked the most. It’s a house that has seen a lot, good and bad, and it’s like a living tomb of Anaïs’ relatives who have all either left the house or died.
The Dust Never Settles’ story meanders quite a lot. The writing style won’t be for everyone and it often seemed to drift from one idea or metaphor to another. While Anaïs appears to be slowly losing her grip on reality, you then have chapters set in the 1500s, following a character that seems completely random but then half a dozen chapters later you see how that character’s descendants then met someone’s relatives who is connected to the Echevarria or is the ancestor to a side character we’ve met in the present. Some may love this kind of storytelling, but after a while I just found that I didn’t really care.
That’s also how I felt about Anaïs after a while – especially in regards to her relationship with her fiancé. He didn’t seem like a nice bloke and I was often left wondering if she ended up with him because it was convenient and whether she loved him at all.
Overall, I found the first half of The Dust Never Settles interesting because of the vibes, the house, and how different it was to anything I’d read recently. But then, the latter half of the book started to drag for me as I didn’t feel like the characters had much of an arc and it was the same vibes and repetitive plot of seeing things in the past and then seeing how they were connected to the present. I think The Dust Never Settles is an ambitious novel, but it isn’t one that really worked for me in the end.
March 21, 2024
"Me veo parada ante la puerta, bañada de luz, con los colores difuminados como en una fotografía sobreexpuesta, porque así es -¿no es así?- como se ven los recuerdos. Escenas diáfanas con rostros borrosos y contornos disueltos. Hay que entornar los ojos para verlos con más claridad, y tienden al blanco. No, al blanco no: al transparente. Los recuerdos tienden a lo translúcido antes de desaparecer."
O 95% da puntuación que lle dou é polo ben escrito que está, sobre todo a primeira parte; lela é un pracer sensorial, está cheíña de realismo máxico ata os topes. Ademais, vaiche introducindo unha historia multixeracional, con moitos personaxes... Recordoume a quen me tiña que recordar (o cal sempre é bo).
Pasada a primeira parte... puf. Coa segunda teño que admitir que me custou moitísimo entender que me estaba contando (e en moitas ocasións, non o conseguín).
Aínda que me encanta o realismo máxico, para min a segunda metade sáese dese xénero, sentín que estaba lendo alucinacións e momentos esquizofrénicos, un tras outro, sen contexto. Por iso, aparte de que o ritmo é lento coma o cabalo do malo, sinto que lle sobraban moitas páxinas.
En canto aos personaxes, confeso que non conseguín conectar nadiña coa protagonista (por non dicir que me caía mal directamente); non entendía ningún dos seus razoamentos, non empatizaba con ela, facía tantas cousas sen sentido... puf, custoume moito, a verdade. Co resto dos personaxes, eran tantos e a súa intervención en moitas ocasións era tan reducida que esquecíame deles cada dous por tres (aínda coa árbore xenealóxica ao final).
De forma xeral, encantoume a escritura, pero quedo coa sensación de que non me contou nada, non vin ningún argumento que concluise nalgún punto.
"Hubo momentos felices, aunque siempre acompañados de un dejo de peligro, siempre como si solo existiera el ahora mismo, siempre al borde del precipicio. Hace un momento se había esfumado y dentro de un segundo todavía no existía, y si nuestros ojos se desviaban lo más mínimo hacia el pasado o el futuro, nuestro peso los seguiría, perderíamos el equilibrio y caeríamos y caeríamos y caeríamos al abismo. Siempre había que exprimir hasta la última gota de felicidad porque, en cualquier momento, podían arrebatárnosla."
O 95% da puntuación que lle dou é polo ben escrito que está, sobre todo a primeira parte; lela é un pracer sensorial, está cheíña de realismo máxico ata os topes. Ademais, vaiche introducindo unha historia multixeracional, con moitos personaxes... Recordoume a quen me tiña que recordar (o cal sempre é bo).
Pasada a primeira parte... puf. Coa segunda teño que admitir que me custou moitísimo entender que me estaba contando (e en moitas ocasións, non o conseguín).
Aínda que me encanta o realismo máxico, para min a segunda metade sáese dese xénero, sentín que estaba lendo alucinacións e momentos esquizofrénicos, un tras outro, sen contexto. Por iso, aparte de que o ritmo é lento coma o cabalo do malo, sinto que lle sobraban moitas páxinas.
En canto aos personaxes, confeso que non conseguín conectar nadiña coa protagonista (por non dicir que me caía mal directamente); non entendía ningún dos seus razoamentos, non empatizaba con ela, facía tantas cousas sen sentido... puf, custoume moito, a verdade. Co resto dos personaxes, eran tantos e a súa intervención en moitas ocasións era tan reducida que esquecíame deles cada dous por tres (aínda coa árbore xenealóxica ao final).
De forma xeral, encantoume a escritura, pero quedo coa sensación de que non me contou nada, non vin ningún argumento que concluise nalgún punto.
"Hubo momentos felices, aunque siempre acompañados de un dejo de peligro, siempre como si solo existiera el ahora mismo, siempre al borde del precipicio. Hace un momento se había esfumado y dentro de un segundo todavía no existía, y si nuestros ojos se desviaban lo más mínimo hacia el pasado o el futuro, nuestro peso los seguiría, perderíamos el equilibrio y caeríamos y caeríamos y caeríamos al abismo. Siempre había que exprimir hasta la última gota de felicidad porque, en cualquier momento, podían arrebatárnosla."
June 19, 2022
El polvo nunca se asienta es la historia de una familia, la familia Echeverria y la historia de una casa, la casa amarilla de la colina y la historia de un país, Perú.
Y esto nos lo va a contar Anais Echeverria y Julia Álvarez Yupanki alternando sus voces.
Anais que emigró a Inglaterra pero que vuelve a Perú para vender la casa pero que le cuesta tanto hacerlo que espera y espera y va recordando su vida y la de los habitantes de esa casa, una casa llena de fantasmas y secretos en la que conviven el pasado y el presente en cada habitación.
Julia que cayó desde el segundo piso de la casa y desde el más allá nos contará como empezó el linaje Echeverria a la vez que nos cuenta la historia de Perú desde el auge del Imperio Inca hasta la actualidad pasando por la llegada de los colonizadores, los esclavistas, la llegada de mano de obra china y de otros países o la revolución. Y de todas las personas que a pesar de los cambios siguieron explotados y maltratados.
Prosa bella y temas duros en una mezcla de pasado y presente, realidad y fantasía, cultura e historia,identidad personal y familiar.
Un libro impresionante en el que el realismo mágico hace acto de presencia para contarnos la historia de Perú a través de un linaje familiar.
Si os gustan las sagas familiares, si os gustan los libros en los que la historia y la cultura tienen gran peso, si os gusta el realismo mágico, si os gusta un libro bien escrito y una historia que os hará viajar, soñar y reflexionar.... Este es vuestro libro.
Y esto nos lo va a contar Anais Echeverria y Julia Álvarez Yupanki alternando sus voces.
Anais que emigró a Inglaterra pero que vuelve a Perú para vender la casa pero que le cuesta tanto hacerlo que espera y espera y va recordando su vida y la de los habitantes de esa casa, una casa llena de fantasmas y secretos en la que conviven el pasado y el presente en cada habitación.
Julia que cayó desde el segundo piso de la casa y desde el más allá nos contará como empezó el linaje Echeverria a la vez que nos cuenta la historia de Perú desde el auge del Imperio Inca hasta la actualidad pasando por la llegada de los colonizadores, los esclavistas, la llegada de mano de obra china y de otros países o la revolución. Y de todas las personas que a pesar de los cambios siguieron explotados y maltratados.
Prosa bella y temas duros en una mezcla de pasado y presente, realidad y fantasía, cultura e historia,identidad personal y familiar.
Un libro impresionante en el que el realismo mágico hace acto de presencia para contarnos la historia de Perú a través de un linaje familiar.
Si os gustan las sagas familiares, si os gustan los libros en los que la historia y la cultura tienen gran peso, si os gusta el realismo mágico, si os gusta un libro bien escrito y una historia que os hará viajar, soñar y reflexionar.... Este es vuestro libro.
April 5, 2023
3.5⭐️? I think? I have no idea where to even start with this book ... but what a debut!
How deliciously strange and odd. Magical realism, in an extreme sense. Think the casita from Encanto but like.. evil.. but also good..?
Not the most likeable main character. Like, at all. There was something a little missing, but I can look past it. An incredible first book from the author and I can't wait to see what else she comes up with. This book was insane honestly.
"This was when Santa Julia understood that in Lima time is like a fog that permeates everything. Any moment, past or yet to come, can descend as a mist and mingle with the air of the present so that all is humid with the vapours of time. It clings to the hair, penetrates the bones, moistens the clothes of the citizens, leaving everything always a little damp. The limeños breathe it daily, creeping down from the mountains or rolling in from the sea – lost time. The city is steeped in it, moistened by it, dragged down into it and, simultaneously, borne forth upon its crest."
How deliciously strange and odd. Magical realism, in an extreme sense. Think the casita from Encanto but like.. evil.. but also good..?
Not the most likeable main character. Like, at all. There was something a little missing, but I can look past it. An incredible first book from the author and I can't wait to see what else she comes up with. This book was insane honestly.
"This was when Santa Julia understood that in Lima time is like a fog that permeates everything. Any moment, past or yet to come, can descend as a mist and mingle with the air of the present so that all is humid with the vapours of time. It clings to the hair, penetrates the bones, moistens the clothes of the citizens, leaving everything always a little damp. The limeños breathe it daily, creeping down from the mountains or rolling in from the sea – lost time. The city is steeped in it, moistened by it, dragged down into it and, simultaneously, borne forth upon its crest."
February 17, 2022
A beautiful debut. The writing is rich and complex for the most part, with delicacy when needed and abrupt flashes of raw and earthy language.
I most enjoyed the narrative surrounding Anais and could relate to her struggles of being a pregnant woman feeling like she’s losing her autonomy.
The historical sections took me a little bit longer to get into, knocking nothing about Peruvian politics!
The magical elements surrounding Santa Julia were intriguing and I wanted more minor miracles!
As a classical singer myself, I revelled in the musical imagery which weaves a thread throughout the narrative, from beginning to end. This enhanced the elegance of the style and added texture and colour to the descriptions.
Beautiful, atmospheric writing.
I most enjoyed the narrative surrounding Anais and could relate to her struggles of being a pregnant woman feeling like she’s losing her autonomy.
The historical sections took me a little bit longer to get into, knocking nothing about Peruvian politics!
The magical elements surrounding Santa Julia were intriguing and I wanted more minor miracles!
As a classical singer myself, I revelled in the musical imagery which weaves a thread throughout the narrative, from beginning to end. This enhanced the elegance of the style and added texture and colour to the descriptions.
Beautiful, atmospheric writing.
Read
October 16, 2024DNF
Absolutely a case of "it's not you, it's me".
This is very intricate, trippy and ambitious, but the writing style ultimately doesn't call to me, and I find it hard to emotionally invest in our protagonist's story; while the scope keeps increasing to weave the further edges of the tapestry of this family's story, it does also mean that it's a bit difficult to find your footing within the narrative, or fully invest in a character.
On a more micro level, the repeated mentions of bodily fluids just give me, personally, the ick.
Not a bad book by any means, but just very mid for me, so I could not convince myself to keep going with it knowing that regardless of the conclusion it would not really do much for me.
Absolutely a case of "it's not you, it's me".
This is very intricate, trippy and ambitious, but the writing style ultimately doesn't call to me, and I find it hard to emotionally invest in our protagonist's story; while the scope keeps increasing to weave the further edges of the tapestry of this family's story, it does also mean that it's a bit difficult to find your footing within the narrative, or fully invest in a character.
On a more micro level, the repeated mentions of bodily fluids just give me, personally, the ick.
Not a bad book by any means, but just very mid for me, so I could not convince myself to keep going with it knowing that regardless of the conclusion it would not really do much for me.
February 26, 2025
I really enjoyed this immersive, magical book. I know very little about Peru and its history and culture and this gave a tantalising taste. I didn't worry about trying to follow the narrative with its tangle of interconnected characters and supernatural beings, I just let it flow over me. It reminded me of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and also Jeanette Winterson. I enjoyed the Audible version very much. Definitely worth the effort.
September 9, 2022
3.5 stars
The Dust Never Settles is aptly named. The reader is drawn into a dervish of complex character histories and interweaving stories amongst a maelstrom of magical realism and family mythology. An unusual experience.
The Dust Never Settles is aptly named. The reader is drawn into a dervish of complex character histories and interweaving stories amongst a maelstrom of magical realism and family mythology. An unusual experience.
August 5, 2023
Mindblowingly good
September 9, 2023
Novela colosal, enorme ejercicio de estructuración del relato. Te deja impresionada aunque me ha parecido que no ha sabido concluir a la altura de la historia que estaba contando. Si te gusta la historia precolombina y las historias que tejen diversas generaciones, este es tu libro.
January 23, 2022
A beautiful ode to Peru immersed in maddening elements of magical realism, The Dust Never Settles by Karina Lickorish Quinn is a magnificent debut emanating imagination at its finest. The story is surreal and the characters are anything but ordinary. The narrative constantly jumps from the dead and the living, the past and the present, the reality and the imagination creating a whirlwind of startling journeys.
Anaïs was half English and half Peruvian. Although she was moulded in Peru throughout her childhood years, since the last few years she has been staying in England with her English partner. It was required for her to sign off the papers of the strange yellow mansion that she used to call her childhood home in order to allow modern residential construction and hence she set on a journey to Peru.
Our second narrator is Santa Julia, who once upon a time was a maid in the yellow house. But it was in her destiny to have met an unfortunate death in the house only to be resurrected as a saint. Santa Julia was for the common people and through her eyes the reader constantly time travels through hundreds of years, from the immigrants and the slaves, the unfortunate souls that she had witnessed were suffering. She is constantly busy in providing a hand to those in need, a cornucopia for the people.
Anaïs and Julia makes living and death more complex to us. The overwhelming paranoia that life in earth offers amidst all its impediments to Anaïs and strange comfort in little hopes after death that Julia experiences are so contrasting, it felt like I was reading two completely different books at the same time. But after the last chapter, it all came together.
Comprising of themes of personal identity and culture manifested in the form of an exceptional literary fiction, The Dust Never Settles is a hugely satisfying read.
Anaïs was half English and half Peruvian. Although she was moulded in Peru throughout her childhood years, since the last few years she has been staying in England with her English partner. It was required for her to sign off the papers of the strange yellow mansion that she used to call her childhood home in order to allow modern residential construction and hence she set on a journey to Peru.
Our second narrator is Santa Julia, who once upon a time was a maid in the yellow house. But it was in her destiny to have met an unfortunate death in the house only to be resurrected as a saint. Santa Julia was for the common people and through her eyes the reader constantly time travels through hundreds of years, from the immigrants and the slaves, the unfortunate souls that she had witnessed were suffering. She is constantly busy in providing a hand to those in need, a cornucopia for the people.
Anaïs and Julia makes living and death more complex to us. The overwhelming paranoia that life in earth offers amidst all its impediments to Anaïs and strange comfort in little hopes after death that Julia experiences are so contrasting, it felt like I was reading two completely different books at the same time. But after the last chapter, it all came together.
Comprising of themes of personal identity and culture manifested in the form of an exceptional literary fiction, The Dust Never Settles is a hugely satisfying read.
August 4, 2023
Burda copia, sin sentido, de cien años de soledad. Intenta copiar y ser distinta a la vez, dos cosas que increiblemente no logra a pesar de ser mutuamente excluyentes y creo que ahi es donde reside el realismo mágico de esta olvidable historia.
Tanto para decir pero a la vez no lo vale… como el árbol genealógico que ningún sentido tiene ya que los nombres del mismo pasan como hojas de revista de en la novela, imposible de retener porque ninguno tiene importancia (salvo dos o tres). Creo que el error principal para contar una historia asi es el de hacerlo desde la perspectiva de un solo personaje (o uno y medio). Este factor es el que le quita peso a todo el resto de la familia. Menciones aparte al pececito, la mamabue, titi y tantas otras expresiones familiares que terminan siendo cursis y cringe por demas en esta, como inicié diciendo, burda y liviana copia de cien años de soledad
Tanto para decir pero a la vez no lo vale… como el árbol genealógico que ningún sentido tiene ya que los nombres del mismo pasan como hojas de revista de en la novela, imposible de retener porque ninguno tiene importancia (salvo dos o tres). Creo que el error principal para contar una historia asi es el de hacerlo desde la perspectiva de un solo personaje (o uno y medio). Este factor es el que le quita peso a todo el resto de la familia. Menciones aparte al pececito, la mamabue, titi y tantas otras expresiones familiares que terminan siendo cursis y cringe por demas en esta, como inicié diciendo, burda y liviana copia de cien años de soledad
July 20, 2024
A work of magical realism in the vein of Gabriel García Márquez. Sweeping journey through Peruvian history but also imaginative personal story of Anaïs struggling with ghosts that inhabit the Casa Echeverría. Featuring a house that is a character in its own right, a saint who can’t do major miracles but can reincarnate pets and ensure carpenters don’t get splinters, folklore of Peru and an exploration of mental illness. Loved.
December 30, 2024
Achei esse livro na livraria da minha cidade totalmente por acaso. Nunca soube da existência dele ou da autora antes disso. E é o melhor livro que eu já li na minha vida. Sem exageros.
Aviso: esse livro tem um público muito específico (eu hahahah). Espere uma narrativa totalmente sem ordem cronológica e cheia de lendas/história do Peru.
Aviso: esse livro tem um público muito específico (eu hahahah). Espere uma narrativa totalmente sem ordem cronológica e cheia de lendas/história do Peru.
July 6, 2024
Heel uniek en creatief en totaal niet lineair, wat een bijzonder, mooi boek!
November 30, 2025
The Dust Never Settles stands as a clear reminder of how essential a good editor is because an editor shapes the soul of a story. In this debut novel by Karina Lickorish Quinn, the absence of strong editorial guidance becomes painfully evident. What could have been a powerful and ambitious work loses its potential simply because the story was not handled with the care it deserved. Editing is not limited to correcting grammar and structure, and this book proves how much more an editor must do.
The story itself is imaginative and deeply ambitious. It shifts fluidly between past and present and reflects the long history of oppression faced by Peru as a Latin nation. It engages with themes of nationalism, patriotism, identity, cultural memory, folklore, and the lingering impact of a post-colonial state. The author draws inspiration from her own background as she is half Peruvian and half British. Through her protagonist, she explores personal and national ghosts that echo across time. These ghosts are not merely haunting figures but symbolic vessels carrying stories of collective struggle and inherited pain. Each one is beautifully defined and used as a medium through which the author channels Peru’s past. Her prose is lyrical, atmospheric, and often breathtaking.
Yet despite the beauty of her writing, the book ultimately feels lacklustre due to its non-linear narration. This structure prevents readers from fully engaging with the magical realism she crafts so delicately. The fragmented storytelling weakens the emotional impact and disrupts the natural flow of her ideas. This is where the editor should have intervened with clarity and structure, but that guiding hand is missing. With a stronger team, a more attentive editor, and a publishing vision that understood how to shape her talent, this book could have flourished. The potential is unmistakable, yet it remains unrealised. The Dust Never Settles carries a fascinating concept, but by the end, it becomes a demanding and often tiring read.
Another difficulty arises from the frequent use of Portuguese/Spanish words scattered across the narrative. Their explanations appear only at the end of the book, forcing readers to flip constantly and disrupting the reading experience. A more thoughtful placement of translations could have made the story smoother and more immersive. The Family Tree section also suffers due to the non-linear structure since it becomes confusing to understand which chapter belongs to which character or what each part seeks to represent. As a result, the magic of realistic fiction is lost, and the novel’s intended depth fails to land.
To be honest, this book feels like a missed opportunity. Karina Lickorish Quinn undoubtedly has immense potential, but she needed a stronger, supportive team to help bring her vision to life. Although the novel begins with promise and an enchanting tone, it ultimately does not deliver on its early allure. By the time I closed the final page, I felt that most of it would soon fade from my memory, leaving behind only scattered impressions.
The story itself is imaginative and deeply ambitious. It shifts fluidly between past and present and reflects the long history of oppression faced by Peru as a Latin nation. It engages with themes of nationalism, patriotism, identity, cultural memory, folklore, and the lingering impact of a post-colonial state. The author draws inspiration from her own background as she is half Peruvian and half British. Through her protagonist, she explores personal and national ghosts that echo across time. These ghosts are not merely haunting figures but symbolic vessels carrying stories of collective struggle and inherited pain. Each one is beautifully defined and used as a medium through which the author channels Peru’s past. Her prose is lyrical, atmospheric, and often breathtaking.
Yet despite the beauty of her writing, the book ultimately feels lacklustre due to its non-linear narration. This structure prevents readers from fully engaging with the magical realism she crafts so delicately. The fragmented storytelling weakens the emotional impact and disrupts the natural flow of her ideas. This is where the editor should have intervened with clarity and structure, but that guiding hand is missing. With a stronger team, a more attentive editor, and a publishing vision that understood how to shape her talent, this book could have flourished. The potential is unmistakable, yet it remains unrealised. The Dust Never Settles carries a fascinating concept, but by the end, it becomes a demanding and often tiring read.
Another difficulty arises from the frequent use of Portuguese/Spanish words scattered across the narrative. Their explanations appear only at the end of the book, forcing readers to flip constantly and disrupting the reading experience. A more thoughtful placement of translations could have made the story smoother and more immersive. The Family Tree section also suffers due to the non-linear structure since it becomes confusing to understand which chapter belongs to which character or what each part seeks to represent. As a result, the magic of realistic fiction is lost, and the novel’s intended depth fails to land.
To be honest, this book feels like a missed opportunity. Karina Lickorish Quinn undoubtedly has immense potential, but she needed a stronger, supportive team to help bring her vision to life. Although the novel begins with promise and an enchanting tone, it ultimately does not deliver on its early allure. By the time I closed the final page, I felt that most of it would soon fade from my memory, leaving behind only scattered impressions.
January 4, 2026
I don't very often read a book just on the basis of a blurb alone, but in this case I did. Paul Lynch, the author of Prophet Song spoke highly of Quinn's book in author interviews and his blurb describing it as 'a mesmerising feat of imagination and a masterful debut' graces the back cover. It's a beautiful front cover, and the yellow butterflies evoke Gabriel Garcia Marquez, to whom this book owes quite a debt.
Anaïs Echeverría Gest has returned to her childhood home in Peru after an absence of several years in England. The family is expecting her to sign the papers authorizing the sale and inevitable demolition of her grandmother's house, la Casa Echeverría in order to free up the inheritance. The house, which is a character in its own right, is a large yellow colonial mansion and garden overlooking the shacks and slums built by squatters on the dry plain behind the house called Los Polvos de Nadie y Nunca (the dusts of no-one and nothing) during the Agrarian Reforms of the 1960s. As soon as she steps over the threshold, she is assailed by the memories of the house- not just her life in that house, but the memories of the house itself- and the ghosts of family members and employees who had lived and worked there.
The house, built at the turn of the century, has seen multiple deaths, that are only just hinted at: a baby whose cries still echo through the house, the suicide of her Aunt Paloma and most importantly, the death of a 17 year old maid, Julia Álvarez Yupanqui who died when she fell (jumped?) from a window. A disembodied presence, Julia wanders unseen through generations of the Echeverría family, right back to the Conquistadors and through centuries of dispossession, enslavement, poverty and violence.
So the story shifts back and forth between two realities: that English reality (denoted by chapters with English numerals) and the Peruvian reality in chapters with Spanish numbers. The Spanish chapters follow the disembodied Julia Álvarez Yupanqui and take us on a meandering journey through Peruvian history.
I like magical realism, but many people do not. This is a really ambitious, fearless book, and I suspect it is more memorable for its overall shape than for its details.
For my complete review please visit:
https://residentjudge.com/2026/01/04/...
Anaïs Echeverría Gest has returned to her childhood home in Peru after an absence of several years in England. The family is expecting her to sign the papers authorizing the sale and inevitable demolition of her grandmother's house, la Casa Echeverría in order to free up the inheritance. The house, which is a character in its own right, is a large yellow colonial mansion and garden overlooking the shacks and slums built by squatters on the dry plain behind the house called Los Polvos de Nadie y Nunca (the dusts of no-one and nothing) during the Agrarian Reforms of the 1960s. As soon as she steps over the threshold, she is assailed by the memories of the house- not just her life in that house, but the memories of the house itself- and the ghosts of family members and employees who had lived and worked there.
The house, built at the turn of the century, has seen multiple deaths, that are only just hinted at: a baby whose cries still echo through the house, the suicide of her Aunt Paloma and most importantly, the death of a 17 year old maid, Julia Álvarez Yupanqui who died when she fell (jumped?) from a window. A disembodied presence, Julia wanders unseen through generations of the Echeverría family, right back to the Conquistadors and through centuries of dispossession, enslavement, poverty and violence.
So the story shifts back and forth between two realities: that English reality (denoted by chapters with English numerals) and the Peruvian reality in chapters with Spanish numbers. The Spanish chapters follow the disembodied Julia Álvarez Yupanqui and take us on a meandering journey through Peruvian history.
I like magical realism, but many people do not. This is a really ambitious, fearless book, and I suspect it is more memorable for its overall shape than for its details.
For my complete review please visit:
https://residentjudge.com/2026/01/04/...
October 7, 2021
(4.5 stars)
Thank you to the publisher for my gifted copy via Netgalley.
Anaïs Echeverría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the ‘yellow house’. But inside those walls are ghosts, who will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for.
‘My intent was to write a novel with a Latin American soul and an English tongue’ said Karina Lickorish Quinn. And wow has she done it. This debut novel is ambitious, but incredibly executed. Circling around themes such as family, Spanish colonialism and memory, The Dust Never Settles transcends the boundary between life and death in a stylish employment of magic realism and the manifestation of ghosts who tell us stories from the past that continue to haunt the present. Brimming with Peruvian folklore, and the country’s history, this book fights for justice. Whether that is justice for the Indigenous people, brutally tortured and murdered by the Spanish. Or justice for the poor, further disadvantaged by the greed of the rich. Anaïs is a protagonist often viewed as ill, since she can see the ghosts that haunt her house but we, as readers of this magic realist text, can see them too.
One thing that is safe to say about this book is it is unexpected, with no real indication of where the plot might end up. For that reason, it is a book that requires a little concentration. I would say that it’s perfect for those who love the journey just as much as the destination. Because the journey is magical. Beautifully written in English but with that little hint of Spanish, completely abstract, incredibly descriptive and educational about Peruvian history; you never know quite what is around the corner. Loved it!
Thank you to the publisher for my gifted copy via Netgalley.
Anaïs Echeverría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the ‘yellow house’. But inside those walls are ghosts, who will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for.
‘My intent was to write a novel with a Latin American soul and an English tongue’ said Karina Lickorish Quinn. And wow has she done it. This debut novel is ambitious, but incredibly executed. Circling around themes such as family, Spanish colonialism and memory, The Dust Never Settles transcends the boundary between life and death in a stylish employment of magic realism and the manifestation of ghosts who tell us stories from the past that continue to haunt the present. Brimming with Peruvian folklore, and the country’s history, this book fights for justice. Whether that is justice for the Indigenous people, brutally tortured and murdered by the Spanish. Or justice for the poor, further disadvantaged by the greed of the rich. Anaïs is a protagonist often viewed as ill, since she can see the ghosts that haunt her house but we, as readers of this magic realist text, can see them too.
One thing that is safe to say about this book is it is unexpected, with no real indication of where the plot might end up. For that reason, it is a book that requires a little concentration. I would say that it’s perfect for those who love the journey just as much as the destination. Because the journey is magical. Beautifully written in English but with that little hint of Spanish, completely abstract, incredibly descriptive and educational about Peruvian history; you never know quite what is around the corner. Loved it!
May 7, 2025
✍️ Anaïs repart au Pérou pour vendre la maison de ses grands-parents. Elle est enceinte et retourne avec réticence dans son pays d'origine qu'elle a quitté plusieurs années avant de façon précipitée. Sera t-elle rattrapée par ses démons ?
🗣️ J'ai passé un très bon moment en compagnie d'Anaïs. L'auteure utilise le réalisme magique avec brio (peut-être un poil trop d'excentricité sur la fin), elle dépeint un pays appauvri et divisé mais haut en couleurs. Les légendes incas ont une place importante dans le récit tout comme l'histoire plus ou moins récente du Pérou (guerre civile, époque pré-hispanique).
J'ai adoré le traitement de la folie dans ce roman, nous sommes face à une narratrice peu fiable, on ne sait pas si elle a un don ou si elle est psychologiquement atteinte. Cet aspect du personnage arrive de façon assez abrupte mais s'accentue progressivement faisant grandir le doute et un sentiment d'oppression chez le lecteur.
L'histoire se déroulant au Pérou, j'ai adoré y retrouver des expressions, noms et vocabulaire hispanique même si j'ai lu le roman en anglais.
Enfin, comment ne pas parler d'un personnage central du roman: la casa amarilla.
Elle a une place importante et j'ai adoré la façon dont l'auteure l'a mise en scène, la maison est-elle maudite ou au contraire un vestige protecteur, antre de souvenirs colorés et inavouables ?
❤️ En conclusion, j'ai beaucoup aimé ce roman même si la fin m'a un peu laissé sur ma faim car elle est partie un peu trop loin dans le loufoque. J'ai souvent pensé à La maison aux esprits d'Isabel Allende mais malheureusement, ce livre n'est pas parvenu à l'égaler 😉
🗣️ J'ai passé un très bon moment en compagnie d'Anaïs. L'auteure utilise le réalisme magique avec brio (peut-être un poil trop d'excentricité sur la fin), elle dépeint un pays appauvri et divisé mais haut en couleurs. Les légendes incas ont une place importante dans le récit tout comme l'histoire plus ou moins récente du Pérou (guerre civile, époque pré-hispanique).
J'ai adoré le traitement de la folie dans ce roman, nous sommes face à une narratrice peu fiable, on ne sait pas si elle a un don ou si elle est psychologiquement atteinte. Cet aspect du personnage arrive de façon assez abrupte mais s'accentue progressivement faisant grandir le doute et un sentiment d'oppression chez le lecteur.
L'histoire se déroulant au Pérou, j'ai adoré y retrouver des expressions, noms et vocabulaire hispanique même si j'ai lu le roman en anglais.
Enfin, comment ne pas parler d'un personnage central du roman: la casa amarilla.
Elle a une place importante et j'ai adoré la façon dont l'auteure l'a mise en scène, la maison est-elle maudite ou au contraire un vestige protecteur, antre de souvenirs colorés et inavouables ?
❤️ En conclusion, j'ai beaucoup aimé ce roman même si la fin m'a un peu laissé sur ma faim car elle est partie un peu trop loin dans le loufoque. J'ai souvent pensé à La maison aux esprits d'Isabel Allende mais malheureusement, ce livre n'est pas parvenu à l'égaler 😉
April 16, 2022
I devoured this, savoring every word, and tabbing so many pages! I had a feeling I would love this, and I was right: this book will definitely be among my favorites of the year. It will not be for everyone but it checked all the boxes for me. Picture "Encanto" but really dark, strange and add ghosts. I think this book is absolutely brilliant and deserves a prize or something! I cannot believe it's a debut.
Bullet review:
- Lush, raw, and vivid writing
- Set in Lima, Peru
- Sense of belonging
- Magical realism
- Transgenerational trauma
- History of colonialism
- Lore, religion, traditions
- Hauntings and gothic vibes
- Non-linear timeline
- Unusual narrative devices
- Sprinkled with Spanish idioms
On top of all those themes and styles I love, this book resonated with me in a very personal way. The author and the MC are Peruvian-British and the exploration of the sense of belonging very much echoed my own experience as a Dominican-French. The complicated history of native inhabitants, European colonization, slave trades, and several waves of immigration is incredibly well described in the scope of the Echeverria family. The family ties and relationships, as well as the culture, felt so familiar and really convey a common Latin-American experience.
TW: Slavery, violence, suicide, rape... feel free to ask me for specifics.
Bullet review:
- Lush, raw, and vivid writing
- Set in Lima, Peru
- Sense of belonging
- Magical realism
- Transgenerational trauma
- History of colonialism
- Lore, religion, traditions
- Hauntings and gothic vibes
- Non-linear timeline
- Unusual narrative devices
- Sprinkled with Spanish idioms
On top of all those themes and styles I love, this book resonated with me in a very personal way. The author and the MC are Peruvian-British and the exploration of the sense of belonging very much echoed my own experience as a Dominican-French. The complicated history of native inhabitants, European colonization, slave trades, and several waves of immigration is incredibly well described in the scope of the Echeverria family. The family ties and relationships, as well as the culture, felt so familiar and really convey a common Latin-American experience.
TW: Slavery, violence, suicide, rape... feel free to ask me for specifics.
October 24, 2022
Es difícil escribir una reseña cuando el libro en cuestión significa tanto.
Este libro es Julia, es Anaïs, es la casa color amarillo de la colina y es toda la historia de Perú. 458 páginas repletas de memorias, recuerdos, vidas, reminiscencias, injusticias y milagros.
Me parece tremendamente increíble el gran imaginario de Karina. Qué trabajo de creación, creatividad y cuánta calidad. Con sus buenos tintes de realismo mágico que a mí me ganan desde cero.
Capítulos intercalados de Julia y Anaïs que juntas nos guían por la lectura. Con Julia, Santa Julia, conocemos más sobre la historia de Perú. Santa Julia te mira a los ojos y lo ve todo, generación tras generación. Las que relatan siglos y siglos de Perú. Luego está Anaïs, esa niña de ojos negros, y luego adulta, incomprendida, con ese “don”. Anaïs VE, en mayúsculas, con todo el peso y el sentido de la palabra. En ese sentido guarda cierta relación con Julia. Solo que una está aquí y la otra allá.
Pero en este libro quién tiene historia, y vida propia, es la casa amarilla y la colina sobre la que se sostiene. El epicentro de todo. Cargada de significado. Y a su alrededor los polvorinos y su lucha. Es una historia aleccionadora y de la que sacar mucha crítica, sobre todo con el relato que se nos ha dado de conquistadores con la colonización. Ahí lo dejo… repito: es increíble el repaso que da de la historia de Perú. (Se agradece muchísimo el apéndice final de personajes y el árbol genealógico que se va tejiendo con cada capítulo).
Leed a Karina, conoced a Anaïs, a Julia, a los Echevarría, a los polvorinos y a gran parte de la historia de Perú🔥🔥
Este libro es Julia, es Anaïs, es la casa color amarillo de la colina y es toda la historia de Perú. 458 páginas repletas de memorias, recuerdos, vidas, reminiscencias, injusticias y milagros.
Me parece tremendamente increíble el gran imaginario de Karina. Qué trabajo de creación, creatividad y cuánta calidad. Con sus buenos tintes de realismo mágico que a mí me ganan desde cero.
Capítulos intercalados de Julia y Anaïs que juntas nos guían por la lectura. Con Julia, Santa Julia, conocemos más sobre la historia de Perú. Santa Julia te mira a los ojos y lo ve todo, generación tras generación. Las que relatan siglos y siglos de Perú. Luego está Anaïs, esa niña de ojos negros, y luego adulta, incomprendida, con ese “don”. Anaïs VE, en mayúsculas, con todo el peso y el sentido de la palabra. En ese sentido guarda cierta relación con Julia. Solo que una está aquí y la otra allá.
Pero en este libro quién tiene historia, y vida propia, es la casa amarilla y la colina sobre la que se sostiene. El epicentro de todo. Cargada de significado. Y a su alrededor los polvorinos y su lucha. Es una historia aleccionadora y de la que sacar mucha crítica, sobre todo con el relato que se nos ha dado de conquistadores con la colonización. Ahí lo dejo… repito: es increíble el repaso que da de la historia de Perú. (Se agradece muchísimo el apéndice final de personajes y el árbol genealógico que se va tejiendo con cada capítulo).
Leed a Karina, conoced a Anaïs, a Julia, a los Echevarría, a los polvorinos y a gran parte de la historia de Perú🔥🔥
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