Read Women discussion

This topic is about
Not a River
Currently Reading
>
Not a River by Selva Almada
date
newest »



I hope you and your family are ok Gail


Has anyone read up on the author? I can try to find some stuff this weekend.

..."
I have not - that would be great, Jen. I’d love to know more about her.
I started the other day and want to whiteboard the characters. She shifts back and forth in time enough that I was getting confused. (A me problem, not the author). There’s something about her writing style I’m loving, but I’m unable to identify it yet.


Selva Almada is an Argentinian writer born April 5, 1973. She has 4 books translated to English- 3 novels/novellas and one nonfiction. It is said that the three novels translated to English are also known as “the trilogy of men”. So we are reading the final part.
Author’s Works
English translations added for the four, otherwise only the Spanish version is linked. Failed to find links for two before GR website function failed.
2003: Mal de muñecas. Poetry
2005: Niños. Novella
2007: Una chica de provincia. Short stories
2012: El viento que arrasa. Novel (2019: The Wind That Lays Waste, English translation by Chris Andrews)
2012: Intemec. Short stories
2013: Ladrilleros. Novel (2021: Brickmakers, English translation by Annie McDermott)
2014: Chicas muertas. Nonfiction (2020: Dead Girls, English translation by Annie McDermott)
2015: El desapego es una manera de querernos. Short stories (compilation)
2017: El mono en el remolino: Notas del rodaje de Zama de Lucrecia Martel. Film diary/nonfiction
2021: No es un río. Novel (2024: Not a River, English translation by Annie McDermott)
Her accolades include:
2010: Fondo Nacional de las Artes Fellowship
2014: Finalist for the Tigre Juan Award for Ladrilleros
2015: Finalist for the Rodolfo Walsh Award for Chicas Muertas
2024: Shortlisted for the International Booker Prize for Not a River
2025: Longlisted for the International Dublin Literary Award for Not a River

That is the intro preceding an interview with the author here:
https://courier.unesco.org/en/article...
From the Booker Prize and the International Literature Festival Berlin, I see her style is compared to Faulkner, as well as others:
“Almada works in the tradition of William Faulkner and major Latin American novelists, that is, with a confident prose that moves easily between the poetic and the hyper real. Critics characterize her as an author of unusual strength who succeeds in reinventing the pastoral world of Argentina.”
https://literaturfestival.com/en/auth...
The Booker site includes two more links- to Q&A with the author and translator as well as a reading guide.
https://thebookerprizes.com/the-booke...

The characters in my novel, men and women who live on what the river can provide, are a reflection of what the neo-liberalism of the 1990s has done to Argentina: impoverishing it, condemning a significant part of its citizens to poverty and marginalization.
I hadn't paid attention to the fact there are two other novels that precede it, I think it can easily stand alone. I have since obtained Brickmakers and Dead Girls and will read those, perhaps this month, since it seems timely.

Thanks for sharing, Claire. Your take is insightful and wonderfully articulated as usual :)
The nonfiction work addresses the issue of femicide by looking at 3 incidents from the past that, I believe I read, happened in 3 different regions of the country. I gather that this work plays a big part in her being recognized as a feminist writer.

I was just the opposite, Claire. I read "The Wind that Lays Waste" last year and gave it a 4. Thank you for sharing your review of "Not a River". It helped me immensely. This might go onto the "to be read again" pile.


But what really stayed with me was Siomara’s backstory—how she processes her anger and grief. Her emotional intensity hit me much harder the second time around. I also noticed the island villagers’ hostility toward the outsiders more clearly on this listen. That tension wasn’t something I focused on the first time, but it’s a key part of the atmosphere.
Almada chose the setting to reflect rural life, and McDermott did deep research to capture the original tone and language in translation. Listening to the audiobook meant I missed the poetic formatting of the dialogue that some reviewers mentioned, which I now wish I’d seen on the page.
In the end, this turned out to be a much darker and more layered story than I expected. I’m glad I gave it a second listen—it revealed so much more.



I love the prose and agree with the description I quoted in message 11 here which was from the Berlin Literature Festival site- "a confident prose that moves easily between the poetic and the hyper real." I just love that marriage of qualities and I think there is also something poetic in the disorienting structure and what felt to me like a shifting, and shifty, atmosphere. It felt both bleak and warm to me, and I'm glad cuz I think just bleak, or bleak and cold, is hard to bear. I like that Almada created many simple, subtle moments of warmth and connection in ordinary human interactions amid the sadness and hopelessness of the poverty... I think this helped to build the suspense too, as well as endear the characters to me. The confusing nature and the great writing make me want to reread as well.
Spoilers included now...
Going into it, I had heard masculinity was a central theme. But I felt surprised when the peak aggression turned out to come from the local men after the focus and suspense had revolved around the outsiders. And I thought the women and especially Siomara were an interesting contrast to the men characters. Women's fate seemed more hopeless, and sadder in their being used to it (Siomara not crying at the funeral, the mothers of boys in greater shock and crying dramatically). I also found interesting the difference in how Siomara processes frustrations with fire and the way the men did.
And it felt symbolic to me that Eusebio was revealed to be more open, less macho of that friend group, and he is the one who does not survive. I wonder if others have thoughts on this and what it might mean then that his son, Tilo, survives. Could this be a glimmer of hope then? I did love the bond Enero seemed to have with Tilo- the affectionate moments of dancing together and the comforting hug at the end, I think as they were leaving the island.
Or am I totally on my own trip compared to what others see or what directions your thoughts went?
I shall check out Claire's review now. Has anyone else written one? Or found one elsewhere online that resonated with them that you could link?

Yea, I agree Siomara's backstory and the local men's hostility were really intense moments in the story. Considering the outsiders also seemed to come from impoverished lives, it felt quite tragic what they suffered, and also that the locals were driven to such extreme hostility by an understandable anger. It all brings to my mind the Almada quote that Claire shared about lives condemned to poverty from outside forces beyond their control.


I wish I could "like" this comment Jen, I completely agree. The most striking scenes for me where those that included something elemental; water, fire, darkness in the wood. I can't pinpoint the symbolism (if there is any), but it does give me a grounding sensation, touch our insticts and primitive traits maybe. (Not sure if I am making sense).
I loved the book, (I just changed my review to 5 starts, it was 4 before), I think it is very unsettling and claustrophobic, without being over the top. I found Almada's writing style brilliant, in the outskirts of poetry, very captivating (for me).
I am not sure about the end, not sure how I want to interpret that and explain what happened and I would read a whole novel about Siomara.
Books mentioned in this topic
The Wind that Lays Waste (other topics)El mono en el remolino: Notas del rodaje de Zama de Lucrecia Martel (other topics)
Intemec (other topics)
Brickmakers (other topics)
El viento que arrasa (other topics)
More...
Who is planning to join?