One of the season’s most talked-about moments at the latest Setmana del Llibre en Català was the Catalan release of a powerful novel, presented alongside its Spanish edition. The narrative, set against a backdrop of motherhood that feels both stark and luminous, has drawn wide acclaim and international interest. Originating from a Moldovan-Romanian writer who crafts in Romanian, the work speaks to universal themes while carrying a distinct personal resonance. It has sparked conversation about how European readers respond to stories rooted in family, memory, and the weight of history.
The question lingers for many readers: why do certain novels resonate more in Spain than in other European markets? The book centers on a mother and child, a bond universally understood yet intimately rendered through a specific cultural lens. The author suggests that Spain’s literary culture may be more open to frank discussions of emotion than some northern or central European countries, where such conversations can feel more restrained or cautious.
The author notes that their homeland has often struggled to accept a portrayal of motherhood that challenges sacred clichés. In Moldova, the story’s unflinching look at maternal life felt unsettling, even provocative. The work arrived with a momentum that suggested the author may have begun crafting a different kind of resonance but sometimes paused to let the ideas breathe. Had the full arc been completed earlier, the argument might have shifted from tension to a deeper understanding.
In discussions about the writing process, a common curiosity emerges: was the manuscript finished in a remarkably short period? The tone suggests a lighthearted admission that time was condensed, yet the accomplishment carried significant weight in shaping the author’s career and the book’s reception. Before the author’s father passed away, he had a significant moment of connection with the manuscript and found in it a sense that the author might be capable of meaningful work after all.
The book’s central question about imperfect motherhood invites readers to reflect on their own family dynamics. The author describes a close, supportive mother who insists that every effort is wonderful, alongside a father who was more exacting. Rebuilding a relationship with him as illness advanced provided a personal touchstone for the narrative. His final reading of the manuscript offered a quiet endorsement that the author could pursue meaningful paths in life.
Was writing a way to resolve inner conflicts? For the author, writing serves as a form of armor removal, a means to reveal the person beneath the public persona. The life of a Moldovan who writes in Romanian, lives in Paris, speaks several languages, and is married to an Englishman adds another layer to the inquiry: how does one define identity when home spans continents and cultures? The second novel, The Glass Garden, became a vehicle to rediscover this sense of self. It explores language, motherhood, and the legacies of oppression, prompting the author to consider which tongue to use with children and how to acknowledge historical harms without being overwhelmed by them. Finishing the book provided a personal reconciliation with history and a clearer sense of voice.
The dialogue then shifts to a broader, more urgent topic: the region’s ongoing conflict. While the author resides outside the homeland, the war remains a constant presence in their worldview. For Moldovans, the war feels immediate and personal, a reminder that fragile peace can unravel quickly. The author emphasizes that the region cannot be seen as distant or abstract; the repercussions would touch the daily lives of many people, including those over thirty-five who remember earlier eras of upheaval. The persistence of conflict, the use of force, and the stubborn push for a broader power restoration are framed as ongoing threats to stability.
Over time, public voices in the homeland have grown more critical, especially as mobilization and state messaging have spurred discontent. Objectivity becomes difficult in such charged circumstances, yet the author accepts the complexity: propaganda can sway opinions early in a conflict, but sustained observation reveals the costs borne by civilians. Civil society is called to participate more actively in safeguarding truth and defending human dignity, rather than allowing fear to dictate perception.
Elevated rhetoric aside, the human consequence remains clear. The perception of danger grows when people feel protected by no one and see their neighbors as potential targets. The sense of victory or defeat often shifts from grand, strategic outcomes to the personal impact on daily life and the simple wish for safety. Dissatisfaction with mobilization efforts also reflects a broader concern for the vulnerable, including those who suffer from violence and displacement, and a desire for accountability in leadership decisions.
As discussions turn to possibility, the broader question surfaces: what lies ahead for the end of this war? The author suggests that a true cessation of hostilities may not eradicate the seeds of resentment or the impulse for retaliation. Even a formal ceasefire could leave lingering tensions that require ongoing healing and reconciliation. The emotional energy surrounding the conflict fuels creative work, with the author noting that current events are a powerful source of inspiration and alarm—an energy that might shape future novels in meaningful ways.
In contemplating future projects, the writer acknowledges the intensity of the present moment and the difficulty of predicting where a new story will lead. The war serves as a charged backdrop, shaping perspectives, conflicts, and authorial decisions. The forthcoming work remains deeply connected to these events, signaling that writing will continue to engage with the complexities of war, memory, and identity while exploring the resilience of people who endure upheaval and strive for understanding in uncertain times. The overarching theme remains clear: what emerges from such turmoil becomes a testament to human endurance and the persistent search for meaning amid disruption.