Nettel braids together two vastly disparate perspectives in this quiet and unassuming novel. Nettel’s matter-of-fact prose, translated from its original Spanish by Rosalind Harvey, belies the weight of each word. For the novel’s driving strength is, perhaps, its striking clarity, its precise and poignant depiction of the ways in which our lives intersect with others’—and, however briefly these intersections may endure, the indelible impressions they leave upon us.— Katie
A quiet novel, with a precision— towards language; towards the movements, habits, and emotional nuances of its characters— that I found utterly addicting. And, actually, it's very funny. The pages glide by.— Morgan
Praise for Guadalupe Nettel:
"Nettel offers her keen attention and sympathy to any living thing struggling to get by." --The New York Times
"Nettel has brilliantly found a form to contain the multitudes of what one body can hold." --Nick Flynn
"The gaze Nettel] turns on madnesses both temperate and destructive, on manias, on deviances, is so sharp that it has us seeing straight into our own obsessions." --Le Monde
Claudio's apartment faces a wall. Rising from bed, he sets his feet on the floor at the same time, to ground himself.
Cecilia sits at her window, contemplating a cemetery, the radio her best companion.
In parallel and entwining stories that move from Havana to Paris to New York City, no routine, no argument for the pleasures of solitude, can withstand our most human drive to find ourselves in another, and fall in love. And no depth of emotion can protect us from love's inevitable loss.