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A review by kimbofo
Nancy by Bruno Lloret
4.0
In this novella from Chile, first published in 2015, Nancy is a widow who is dying of cancer. As she confronts her mortality, she reflects on her life and relationships, including her marriage to a “gringo”, who died in a tragic industrial accident, and her childhood and difficult adolescence in northern Chile.
Her teenage years were marred by the breakdown of her parents’ marriage and the unexplained disappearance of her beloved older brother, Pato — whom she describes as a “superhero” — outside a nightclub when he was 19 years old.
Basically left to fend for herself, Nancy keeps house for her father and her alcoholic uncle Aarón who moves in with them. She goes to school in the morning and spends her afternoons secretly swimming with friends at Playa Roja under the watchful eyes of a group of creepy old gringos. This is despite her father’s decree that she never leave the house (except to go to school) for fear something might happen to her.
Against a background of endemic violence and the threat of being “disappeared”, Nancy’s father discovers religion when two young Morman missionaries come knocking at the door. Eventually, Nancy, who is a non-believer and sexually active (she loses her virginity to a gipsy called Jesulé, whom she adores), is also baptised into the Church of Latter Day Saints — even though her heart is not in it.
When she unwittingly stumbles upon the two young male missionaries locked in an amorous embrace, she films them for potential blackmailing purposes. This is but one example of Nancy’s canny way of holding power in a world that largely denies her this control.
The most striking thing about the story, however, is Nancy’s sexual agency and streetwise view of the world, her unwavering commitment to her father (even though he doesn’t always treat her kindly) and her quiet determination to just get on with things. “Feeling sad won’t change anything,” she claims (page 30)
Nancy is a sensitively told tale of living life in the margins against a backdrop of death and violence. It explores themes of trauma, identity, religion and the search for meaning, yet despite the oppressive nature of the narrator’s life, it feels empowering and optimistic.
For a more detailed review, please visit my blog.
Her teenage years were marred by the breakdown of her parents’ marriage and the unexplained disappearance of her beloved older brother, Pato — whom she describes as a “superhero” — outside a nightclub when he was 19 years old.
Basically left to fend for herself, Nancy keeps house for her father and her alcoholic uncle Aarón who moves in with them. She goes to school in the morning and spends her afternoons secretly swimming with friends at Playa Roja under the watchful eyes of a group of creepy old gringos. This is despite her father’s decree that she never leave the house (except to go to school) for fear something might happen to her.
Against a background of endemic violence and the threat of being “disappeared”, Nancy’s father discovers religion when two young Morman missionaries come knocking at the door. Eventually, Nancy, who is a non-believer and sexually active (she loses her virginity to a gipsy called Jesulé, whom she adores), is also baptised into the Church of Latter Day Saints — even though her heart is not in it.
When she unwittingly stumbles upon the two young male missionaries locked in an amorous embrace, she films them for potential blackmailing purposes. This is but one example of Nancy’s canny way of holding power in a world that largely denies her this control.
The most striking thing about the story, however, is Nancy’s sexual agency and streetwise view of the world, her unwavering commitment to her father (even though he doesn’t always treat her kindly) and her quiet determination to just get on with things. “Feeling sad won’t change anything,” she claims (page 30)
Nancy is a sensitively told tale of living life in the margins against a backdrop of death and violence. It explores themes of trauma, identity, religion and the search for meaning, yet despite the oppressive nature of the narrator’s life, it feels empowering and optimistic.
For a more detailed review, please visit my blog.