I GAVE YOU EYES AND YOU LOOKED TOWARD DARKNESS

Over the course of generations, a house in the mountains of Catalonia bears witness to wolves, the ravages of several wars, witches, bandits, and the devil in various guises.

In an upstairs bedroom of Mas Clavell, an old woman named Bernadeta lies dying. Years before, one of her forebears traded her soul for “a full man…an heir with a patch of land and a roof over his head.” When the subsequent husband turns out to be missing a pinkie toe, she wriggles out of her pact with the devil. But ever since then, every offspring of Mas Clavell has been born with something missing. As in her previous novel, When I Sing, Mountains Dance (2022), Solà is interested here in local folklore passed through generations, especially of women and witchcraft. The novel is set over the course of a single day, but narrated through the polyphonic voices of the mothers and daughters who have inhabited—and now haunt—the house. Hanging over all of it is a knowledge of evil, which some make deals to keep at bay and others invite in. Men feature throughout, both brutal and tenderhearted. But it’s the women—varied, critical, clamorous—who carry on the family narrative. Accustomed to horrors and hardships, they’re unsentimental and earthy. Only very occasionally are they moved. In one passage, a much younger Bernadeta witnesses her daughter dying in childbirth: “You can talk about misfortune, and you can talk about grief; you can talk about remorse and guilt, and about death, about evil and the things men do.…But you can’t say how a girl is made. There aren’t enough words to explain it, because you made her like dirt makes trees, and trees make branches, and branches make fruit, and fruit makes seeds. In the dark. From a place so deep within that you didn’t know you knew how to do it.”

A fabulous achievement, at once sweeping and sly, raunchy and richly compelling.