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I Didn't Talk
I Didn't Talk | Beatriz Bracher
3 posts | 1 read | 3 to read
The English-language debut of a master stylist: a compassionate but relentless novel about the long, dark harvest of Brazils totalitarian rule A professor prepares to retireGustavo is set to move from Sao Paulo to the countryside, but it isnt the urban violence hes fleeing: what he fears most is the violence of his memory. But as he sorts out his papers, the ghosts arrive in full force. He was arrested in 1970 with his brother-in-law Armando: both were vicariously tortured. He was eventually released; Armando was killed. No one is certain that he didnt turn traitor: I didnt talk, he tells himself, yet guilt is his lifelong harvest. I Didnt Talk pits everyone against the protagonistespecially his own brother. The torture never ends, despite his bones having healed and his teeth having been replaced. And to make matters worse, certain details from his shattered memory dont quite add up... Beatriz Bracher depicts a life where the temperature is lower, there is no music, and much is out of view. I Didn't Talk's pariahs-eye-view of the forgotten small victims powerfully bears witness to their internal exile. I didnt talk, Gustavo tells himself; and as Bracher honors his endless pain, what burns this tour de force so indelibly in the readers mind is her intensely controlled voice.
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quote
Pinta
I Didn't Talk | Beatriz Bracher
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117 Armando was given up for my sake, but not by my lips, as though that made any difference.

120 The greater terror, perhaps, is of the arbitrary, the unexpected.

123 I feared the absence of fear and the feeling of the infinite.

126 The rules of the game in prison were to not die and not give in.

127 There is no punishment without blame and I had been punished.

145 Maybe no one has ever considered me a traitor except myself.

quote
Pinta
I Didn't Talk | Beatriz Bracher
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128 There was a kind of mass schizophrenia in the air, we were all being watched, friends were disappearing, militant and non-militant built networks of information to know who was still alive, nothing written or spoken still carried its conventional meaning and the new meanings required deciphering codes that were unstable and for that reason inefficient,

Pinta the value of face-to-face relations was also placed in suspense: friend, guerrilla, stool pigeon, colleague, infiltrator, plant – all of them wore jeans, spoke in allegories, used metaphors and code names that swarmed across every available surface – 9h
Pinta knowing looks, and the feeling of brotherhood at the dawn of a new day, and also the stubborn, fetid joy of those small men who had the power to denounce, threaten, shout. And besides all that there was the street, the bus, the bakery, the line at the bank, soap operas, lovers, the life of good morning, how‘s it going, four rolls please, a double shot, people going to work and coming home, the bus jammed, grinding against each other, 9h
Pinta people laughing and people sleeping, long conversations, stench of armpits, the driver smoking, an old lady saying excuse me in her tiny voice, a big black man yelling “you sons of bitches, can‘t you see the lady wants to get by, bunch of punks,” the day completely normal, words meaning what they mean, every gesture in place, I tightened my grip, wave, and wonder of wonders, our team in 1970. 9h
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review
Pinta
I Didn't Talk | Beatriz Bracher
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Pickpick

Quiet but killer short novel investigating political resistance. Retiring professor Gustavo looks over his papers & recalls his minor part in fighting the Brazilian military dictatorship of the 1970s and 80s. Gustavo insists that he didn‘t talk under torture, yet he survives while brother-in-law Armando is killed. Guilt, sacrifice, trauma, memory, emotional torture, “pariah‘s-eye view.” Wandering, dream-of-consciousness, unreliable. Trans. 2018.