*Spoiler Alert
“…. sometimes children come to us without us having planned it….as if someone had deposited an egg in our nest”
I usually pick my novels with a lot of deliberation and forethought, and Still Born did not go through that careful selection process. I picked it at random from a list of books, not even knowing that the original is in Spanish. As I started reading it, I was immediately hooked. At 217 pages, it’s a short yet compelling read.
Nettel tackles a complex subject in this book- that of motherhood, its nuances, its challenges, its vagaries; and most importantly, its very necessity. What makes a woman a mother? Is it the act of giving birth alone? Is the experience of motherhood the same for every woman? Is motherhood as fulfilling and gratifying as it’s made out to be? And what if it isn’t?
Laura and Alina are two women in their 30s, both of whom are decidedly anti-children at the onset of the book. Laura is militant in her views of motherhood, she views it as a burden and a form of social entrapment, and goes to great lengths to uphold her views. She wants to enjoy a life free of the burden of child rearing. Alina initially feels the same way but has a change of heart as she grows older, deciding to have a child before her biological clock stops ticking. She too pursues this goal single mindedly, immersing herself completely in doctors and fertility treatments till she finally conceives. But there is a twist. Alina’s child may not survive very long after being born. We follow Alina as she deals with the grief and heartbreak of this bleak prognosis. It obviously takes a toll on her mental health and drives a wedge between her and her husband. Alina also grapples with the question of what to do and how to look after a child who has severe developmental delay and will likely never make any real progress. Her fraught relationship with the nanny she hires, and the nanny’s own complex psyche are particularly well crafted. Nettel handles these parts deftly, and instead of making Alina look weak or villainous, she is able to make the reader sympathise and relate to her and her insecurities.
Laura’s determined attempts at avoiding motherhood are meanwhile thwarted, as she unwillingly and unwittingly ends up fostering a troubled young child who lives next door and has a strained relationship with his mother. She is drawn to him in spite of his outward unruly behaviour and forms an unlikely bond with the boy and his emotionally exhausted mother, even as she rejects traditional the maternal role with its obligations and responsibilities.
What Nettel is trying to tell us through these two women’s stories is that you don’t need to be a mother in order to be maternal or nurturing, and becoming a mother doesn’t mean that you will automatically love and care for your child- and it’s ok to take your time. These women’s stories are portrayed with sensitivity and nuance. Both women get what they wish for, but not in the way they’d expected. Even their darkest thoughts don’t make you flinch, instead Nettel gently nudges you to reflect on how they arrived at those thoughts in the first place. We weep with Alina as she despairs for her child, and sigh in contentment as Laura’s fledgling relationship with her young neighbour develops into something meaningful. Nettel spurns preachiness and lectures, and instead lets her characters make complex moral choices without judgement.
One reason I don’t like to read translated works is that a lot is lost in translation- the author’s actual intent and language and native sensibility are often not conveyed as in the original. I did grapple with these issues in this book too. The writing is clunky at times, filled with unnecessary exposition and cluttered with dialogue. There are also a few cliches that could have been avoided and the ending was quite predictable. There is a concrete, literal quality to the prose that makes for inelegant reading in few places. In spite of these minor flaws, it’s still a lovely book to read, for its insightful and honest portrayal of what motherhood is perceived to be versus what it actually is. It’s a short, feel-good read, one I highly recommend if you want to expand your repertoire and read books by non-western/ non-English speaking writers.
