I could spend my life piecing old bones together if it helped me to understand the past.
A father with a harsh sense of humor, whose behavior is retrospectively justified by his sudden diagnosis of mental illness; a cold mother who understood Valeria’s vocation for writing and her need to transform life into words to gain a foothold, a comforting container in which to process emotions; a body kept deliberately thin, a need for and absence of control, an insatiable hunger for love that drives a teenager, mother, and young woman to seek a place to anchor the splintered parts of herself in men.
Pulsatilla’s return to writing with expressive maturity and irony. A novel of quiet yet erosive power.
