2019 Pleasures
by Arrate Hidalgo
2019 has
been, just as 2018, full of the chaos that comes with organizing a feminist SF
festival in one’s hometown with not much organizing experience to speak of.
This means that I have kept buying books but have finished far fewer of them
than usual. Still, maybe that is why I have really enjoyed just sitting and
reading a book this year, whenever I could. Below are some of the few books I have
been able do that with in 2019.
My Tiptree
(now Otherwise) award juror reading bled into the summer, when I had the chance
to stop and really enjoy some of the books Gretchen sent me (thank you,
Gretchen and publishers). One of those books is Sodom Road Exit by Amber
Dawn, a queer ghost story which is much more than that and which really spoke
to me in many ways, possibly due to my Catholic upbringing, among other
reasons. The book bursts with sparkling language and yet manages to convey
exactly what it is like to live with a lifetime of things unsaid.
I have been
obsessed with CJ Cherryh’s Foreigner cycle since my friend and colleague
Lawrence Schimel gave me the first book in the series. He has ever since kept
providing me with volumes, and last summer I finished the first trilogy with Inheritor.
One of the things I love the most about these books, apart from everything
else, is the fact that as an overworked translator with anxiety I could not
hope for a more relatable protagonist. I keep looking at the next three books
on my shelf with longing. Maybe in February.
To be
honest, if I were to highlight anything about my reading life in 2019, that
would be the fact that I have kept delving deeper into contemporary women’s lit
in Basque, and it has been a ride. Two of the titles that have had a
greater impact in my head have been Kontrako eztarritik [“Down the wrong
pipe”] collected by Uxue Alberdi, and Amek ez dute [“Mothers do not”] by
Katixa Agirre.
Kontrako
eztarritik is a
collection of directed interviews conducted by bertsolari and author Uxue
Alberdi with other women bertsolaris, which were then de-kernelled into classified
topics relevant to feminism. Bertsolaritza or “bertso practice/making” is a
Basque oral poetic tradition, performed in public, in which bertsolaris are
given a subject and sometimes a metre and they must come up with an improvised,
sung-on-the-spot string of verses that both rhyme and have a punchline at the
end. Bertsolaris can be put in competition or cooperation with one another,
depending on the moment, and they are important public figures in Basque folk
and political culture. The same goes for contemporary feminist circles. Uxue
Alberdi’s book is a pioneering attempt at X-raying the circumstances of women
in the field by looking at concepts such as body, humor, Basqueness, and money
and the way in which they all interrelate. (If you’re curious about this Basque
thing, here is a thread by me on queer and trans
representation in contemporary bertsolaritza, via legend Maialen Lujanbio’s outstanding
work.)
On the
other hand, Katixa Agirre’s Amek ez dute is a visceral look into the act
of creation, both from the mother’s and the writer’s perspective, by merging
both identities in the novel’s protagonist. After hearing the news that a woman
near her hometown has drowned her infant twins, and finding out that the woman
is actually someone she once met when she lived in England as an exchange
student, the writer and rookie mum protagonist sets out to obsessively research
the case and turn it into her next novel. To say it was a gripping read would
be an understatement, and I was very surprised to be so sucked into a story
with a plot summary that I would have definitely passed on, had my friends
not recommended it to me. The author has translated herself into Spanish (Las
madres no), if anybody out there is interested. It is very intense and,
strangely, very enjoyable.
Among other things, Arrate Hidalgo is Associate Editor at Aqueduct Press. She is also an
English to Spanish translator, an founder and organizer of a feminist sf con, and an amateur singer. Visit her website at arratehidalgo.com.
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