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shambo1597's review
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
mysterious
sad
tense
fast-paced
4.25
brisamar's review against another edition
4.0
Libro estremecedor, que rescata del olvido casos que en su momento fueron sonados y que pese a la repercusión mediática no lograron cerrarse. Conforme pasa el tiempo, van quedando menos personas que conocían a las víctimas.
maicanales's review against another edition
5.0
Tres asesinatos de los miles que ocurren y que no son portada ni noticia en ningún diario. Tres chicas que son encontradas muertas en diferentes lugares pero que apuntan a lo mismo: femicidios.
En esta novela de no ficción, Selva Almada busca entregarles voz a tres mujeres: María Luisa, Andrea y Sara, muertas en condiciones que no se logran aclarar ni encontrar culpables. Los casos mantienen relaciones en cuanto al trabajo poco profesional por parte de las autoridades, de los prejuicios que culpabilizan a las víctimas y de cómo sucede la vida en aquellos pequeños pueblos del interior de la Argentina que celebra la vuelta a la democracia.
“Yo tenía trece años y esa mañana, la noticia de la chica muerta, me llegó como una revelación. Mi casa, la casa de cualquier adolescente, no era el lugar más seguro del mundo”
La autora nos muestra cómo las crianzas en esa época indicaban un machismo palpable, pero que faltaban palabras para nominarlo, ya que en ese entonces se desconocía el término femicidio.
Durante su relato, Almada les entrega un nombre y apellido a todas esas mujeres víctimas de femicidio que descubre mientras busca más información sobre María Luisa, Andrea y Sara, dando cuenta de los cientos de femicidios que ocurren y cómo estos quedan impunes. En esta búsqueda también nos muestra cómo se han trastocado las vidas de las familias de estas mujeres, las esperanza o desilusión en un sistema quebrado y machista.
En esta novela de no ficción, Selva Almada busca entregarles voz a tres mujeres: María Luisa, Andrea y Sara, muertas en condiciones que no se logran aclarar ni encontrar culpables. Los casos mantienen relaciones en cuanto al trabajo poco profesional por parte de las autoridades, de los prejuicios que culpabilizan a las víctimas y de cómo sucede la vida en aquellos pequeños pueblos del interior de la Argentina que celebra la vuelta a la democracia.
“Yo tenía trece años y esa mañana, la noticia de la chica muerta, me llegó como una revelación. Mi casa, la casa de cualquier adolescente, no era el lugar más seguro del mundo”
La autora nos muestra cómo las crianzas en esa época indicaban un machismo palpable, pero que faltaban palabras para nominarlo, ya que en ese entonces se desconocía el término femicidio.
Durante su relato, Almada les entrega un nombre y apellido a todas esas mujeres víctimas de femicidio que descubre mientras busca más información sobre María Luisa, Andrea y Sara, dando cuenta de los cientos de femicidios que ocurren y cómo estos quedan impunes. En esta búsqueda también nos muestra cómo se han trastocado las vidas de las familias de estas mujeres, las esperanza o desilusión en un sistema quebrado y machista.
kristinvdt's review against another edition
3.0
Read it in English. This is a good read, though very disturbing too. Yet, it didn't "grab" me the way I expected. Parts of it will stay with me, other parts were more forgettable. Too many side-characters to distract me perhaps? Overall: well-written and worth reading.
coffeebooksrepeat's review
4.0
If there’s one genre I could watch round the clock, it would be true crime. However, I couldn’t say the same with written works. While I loved reading true-crime books (I MEAN I LOVED IN COLD BLOOD!!!) when I was younger, the evenings and nights after I finished a book were not without anxiety or nightmares. Why?
Simple. The world is dangerous.
I’d probably get the usual “Men get killed, too, especially at night.” “Men get stabbed, too. Check the news/papers.” Oh, I know. I know that men get killed at night and even during the daytime. But I also know that women are at a higher risk of being assaulted, physically and sexually, come nighttime — when the moon replaces the sun and hides behind the night clouds.
In Dead Girls, Selva Almada brings us to rural Argentina, where young women grew up in households where gender-related violence and attacks were often overlooked and neglected because feeding their family three meals a day was more important than anything else.
There were times that the accounts of the deaths sounded made up; they were too outlandish, too fictionalized. I murmured one too many times, “why psychics?” Then I suddenly realized that most of my relatives, even me at times, resort to hilot and manggamot when pharmaceuticals won’t work. It’s cultural, I think. Or desperation.
The book isn’t perfect. There were times when the facts became too overwhelming that when she presented two different crime stories, case facts overlapped.
But maybe that’s the thing about criminal cases and topics that became too personal — you sometimes lose the flow because you’d often wonder, it could have been you.
Simple. The world is dangerous.
I’d probably get the usual “Men get killed, too, especially at night.” “Men get stabbed, too. Check the news/papers.” Oh, I know. I know that men get killed at night and even during the daytime. But I also know that women are at a higher risk of being assaulted, physically and sexually, come nighttime — when the moon replaces the sun and hides behind the night clouds.
In Dead Girls, Selva Almada brings us to rural Argentina, where young women grew up in households where gender-related violence and attacks were often overlooked and neglected because feeding their family three meals a day was more important than anything else.
There were times that the accounts of the deaths sounded made up; they were too outlandish, too fictionalized. I murmured one too many times, “why psychics?” Then I suddenly realized that most of my relatives, even me at times, resort to hilot and manggamot when pharmaceuticals won’t work. It’s cultural, I think. Or desperation.
The book isn’t perfect. There were times when the facts became too overwhelming that when she presented two different crime stories, case facts overlapped.
But maybe that’s the thing about criminal cases and topics that became too personal — you sometimes lose the flow because you’d often wonder, it could have been you.