THE ROOFTOP

A pregnant woman and her ailing father try to carve out the rest of their lives in a village in Uruguay.

No lie, this book is emotionally challenging and often depressing. Brief, bleak, and often shockingly claustrophobic, the novel chronicles the life of Clara, our narrator and something of a cipher, who is trapped in a small home with her father, who is suffering from some kind of debilitating neurological illness. To add to Clara’s litany of troubles—which include rapidly diminishing funds and something resembling grief over the accidental death of someone named Julia, never quite identified as to her role in the family—she's several months pregnant as well. Other than the birth of Flor, her daughter, and Clara’s general ambivalence about the child’s welfare, there’s no drama there since both the father and the circumstances of Flor’s conception are patently ignored. Because the family has retreated inside, Clara’s only real relief is ruminating on her rooftop during the rare moments she’s not responsible for her Dad’s or Flor’s well-beings. “I don’t know when everything started to go wrong, or what set the end in motion,” Clara tells us. “If I’m remembering all this tonight, it’s only because I want a little more time with them. No one could possibly understand how I feel: isolated, expecting nothing, knowing I’m locked in a desperate battle to defend something that’s already gone.” The only other character supporting this triptych of misanthropes is Carmen Diviak, a neighbor and something of a midwife who helps Clara give birth and keep her family alive, for now. At its core, it’s a story about being trapped and the fear, isolation, and anxiety that emerge when one is stuck in a dark, dark place.

A tiny, shocking book about despair and its haunting consequences.