I received a review copy from Hispabooks Publishing via Edelweiss.
What would you do if the man sitting next to you on a plane flight died during landing? When this story begins, a young Dutch woman and an elderly Spanish man are sitting side by side on a plane flight from Barcelona to Holland. The kind and gentle man begins to tell the woman the story of his life and how he ended up on this plane to visit his eldest son. The Dutch woman nods off for a while and upon waking she discovers that the flight has landed and the nice Spanish gentleman has died.
My instinct in this situation would have been to immediately call for help and get the attention of the flight attendants and staff, but the unnamed female narrator acts very strangely and sits with the man until the plane has been completely emptied of passengers. Before she is discovered by the flight attendants, she takes a small wooden box that the man was holding and secretly puts it in her own bag. The box doesn’t seem to be anything of value but is a keepsake or a memento from the elderly man’s previous life.
The narrative is told in alternating voices between the Dutch woman, simply referred to as “Her,” and the elderly man also simply referred to as “Him.” Fabregas’s choice to not name her characters is part of an interesting pattern I have noticed in literature in translation, especially from European countries. Although both characters in this book have experienced loss and loneliness, the juxtaposition of the “him” versus “her” dialogue serves to highlight and bring to the forefront the profound differences between these two strangers.
The Spanish gentleman grew up in Extremadura with a large immediate family. He is in love with a woman named Mariana, but this beautiful woman whom he idolizes has chosen his brother Pedro over him. The narrator knows that he cannot stay in this town if he is to heal his wounds and make a life for himself. When the opportunity arises for him to move to Holland and work in a Philips lightbulb factory he enthusiastically embraces this fortuitous change in his life. As different obstacles are thrown in his way he always feels that his only choice is to move forward. His natural reaction to coping with tragedies and sorrows in life is to make connections with other human beings and this always pulls him out of his strenuous circumstances. When his future in-laws oppose his marriage, he reaches out to a local priest to intervene; when his beloved wife Willemien becomes sick, he reaches out to his neighbors for comfort and succor; when his wife dies and he is profoundly lonely he reaches out to old friends and his family for support.
The Dutch woman, by contrast, suffers some kind of traumatic experience in her life, the details of which are not fully revealed until later in the story. This event has had such a profound impact on her that she is stuck, she cannot move forward and is an empty shell going through the motions of her lonely life. She doesn’t have many friends and keeps her only family, a loving aunt and uncle, at a distance. Although she technically performs her job well in a government tax office, she is oftentimes scolded at work because she does not engage socially with her colleagues and is not viewed as a “team player.”
The only activity that keeps this woman going is a list of names of one-hundred people that she is searching for and interviewing one-by-one. This list is somehow connected to the tragedy she suffered early in her life and she feels that someone on this list will give her the answers she needs. The author gives us the names of several people on the list but, by contrast, she never names the narrator herself. She still simply remains “Her” all the way through to the conclusion of the book. This literary device seems appropriate for this character since she has never been able to forge a fulfilling life for herself or make deeper emotional connections to any other person. But it seemed more unsettling to me that the unnamed male narrator was never given a first name. He was more jovial, outgoing and optimistic and it would have felt more natural for someone to have called him by his name at least once in the story. At the very end he is given a surname, but we still never find out what his closest friends and family called him.
Fàbregas has written an absorbing book that explores themes of identity, human connections, art and language. This is one of those books that perfectly lends itself to a deep and interesting discussion with other bibliophiles and is deserving of multiple reads. This book has also inspired me to think more about books with unnamed narrators and perhaps write a longer essay about this topic.