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A review by illustrated_librarian
The Time of Cherries by Montserrat Roig
challenging
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
Natàlia Miralpeix is returning home to Barcelona and her family after twelve years abroad. It's 1974, almost the end of Franco's dictatorship, and change is in the air. The youth talk of a freer future, but the older generation still carry hidden wounds from the civil war. In the heady, vibrant city past and present collide as the citizens try to find their places in this new world.
Focussing on two families, the Clarets and the Miralpeixs, their secrets, joys, and scars, Montserrat Roig pulls off a novel of ambitious temporal scope but without the chronological plod. Here, 'backstory' isn't a thing; past and present have equal weight in creating the future and Roig moves freely between them.
Natàlia is our bridge into the world of upper-middle class Catalan families of Barcelona, and through the prism of her return we see, in a non-liner way, the events that shaped her. And not only her; the roving third-person narration flits between characters illuminating their histories and hopes, creating a rich stream of consciousness where punctuation and paragraph breaks are very much optional. The result is complex, textured, and beautifully done - a testament to Julia Sanches's nimble translation
Roig is particularly concerned with giving voice to women and the elderly, weilding her pen like a sword to strike back against the Franco years and all the voices silenced under his regime. She evokes the small concerns of daily life against the backdrop of a time of huge change in Spain perfectly. The women are both trapped in domesticity and striking out against it, the youth are full of fire and apathetic, the elderly are fatigued yet vital. Everything is changing in Barcelona, and nothing is.
This novel is complex, it's meandering and frenetic and can be hard to follow. I'm sure plenty of people will find it frustrating. As someone with a deep affection for Barcelona and ties to this history, though, I found something precious in these pages: a history boldly told, eschewing making fables of war and oppression for gritty immersion in the mundanity of their fallout.
Focussing on two families, the Clarets and the Miralpeixs, their secrets, joys, and scars, Montserrat Roig pulls off a novel of ambitious temporal scope but without the chronological plod. Here, 'backstory' isn't a thing; past and present have equal weight in creating the future and Roig moves freely between them.
Natàlia is our bridge into the world of upper-middle class Catalan families of Barcelona, and through the prism of her return we see, in a non-liner way, the events that shaped her. And not only her; the roving third-person narration flits between characters illuminating their histories and hopes, creating a rich stream of consciousness where punctuation and paragraph breaks are very much optional. The result is complex, textured, and beautifully done - a testament to Julia Sanches's nimble translation
Roig is particularly concerned with giving voice to women and the elderly, weilding her pen like a sword to strike back against the Franco years and all the voices silenced under his regime. She evokes the small concerns of daily life against the backdrop of a time of huge change in Spain perfectly. The women are both trapped in domesticity and striking out against it, the youth are full of fire and apathetic, the elderly are fatigued yet vital. Everything is changing in Barcelona, and nothing is.
This novel is complex, it's meandering and frenetic and can be hard to follow. I'm sure plenty of people will find it frustrating. As someone with a deep affection for Barcelona and ties to this history, though, I found something precious in these pages: a history boldly told, eschewing making fables of war and oppression for gritty immersion in the mundanity of their fallout.