At Mas Clavell in the Sierra de las Guillerías, the dead coexist alongside the living. As Bernadeta slowly leaves for the afterlife, she is watched over by Margarida. In her time, Joana, the matriarch, made a pact with the devil. The fallout had been immeasurable: the descendants were not spared. All this because she was desperate for a husband…
Six chapters punctuate the story, temporally: from dawn to night, including morning, noon, afternoon and evening. But in a single day, Irene Solà condenses what happened in several lives, over several centuries – past and present interpenetrating.
There are many sources from which the writer drew to develop her book. She cites them, in a note, at the end. Tales and legends from past centuries. She reiterates her work as a goldsmith, as if I sing and the mountain dances. And Margarida and Joana are once again invited to I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness.
Holder of a master’s degree in literature, cinema and audiovisual culture from the University of Sussex, Irene Solà also holds a degree in fine arts from the University of Barcelona. We understand where his rhythmic writing comes from. “And the kid produced a sound that seemed to Angela to be a cry of pain, to Elisabet, to fear, to Dolça, to pleasure, and to Blanca, to surprise. To Joana, it had no effect.” Just like some of her descriptions which, read aloud, have a penetrating visual power – as if she were speaking to blind people.
In this baroque family saga, several generations of women, therefore. Men too. Four centuries of life. Where the works of God are opposed to the achievements of the devil. Where the master’s sayings dictate the servant’s life. Where we give birth in the morning to die in the evening. Where pain meets pleasure. Forgetting, remembering. The past, the contemporary. “In the bag there was their ready-made dinner in a tuperouère and they could reheat it in the microwave. God knows what that meant”. It almost seems like an anachronism.
I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness: to look in the dark, you need eyes. And the darkness changes nothing. Quite the contrary. What we see there is not necessarily frightening.
Irene Solà’s writing captivates with its lyricism, and if, sometimes, we get lost, we just need to take the time to acclimatize our pupils to the darkness.
⇒ I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness | Roman | Irene Solà, translated from Catalan by Edmond Raillard | Seuil, 182 pp., €21, digital €15
EXTRACT
“The curse that hovered over this house was so great,” he proclaimed, “that when the plants were born there, they were born for Satan, and what Jesus planted, the Evil One put his graft and everything that was intended for God, mas Clavell, gave fruit for the devil!”
