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Sinopsis: durante aǫs, en la recn̤dita colonia menonita de Molotschna, decenas de mujeres fueron sistemt̀icamente drogadas y violadas mientras dorma̕n. Despertaban doloridas y sangrando. La comunidad se empeąba en mantener que todo era producto de su absurda imaginacin̤, o quiz ̀obra del demonio, que las castigaba por sus pecados. Los violadores, sin embargo, eran hombres de la propia colonia: to̕s, hermanos o vecinos que finalmente acabaron en prisin̤ pero que ahora, en apenas dos da̕s, quedarǹ libres bajo fianza y regresarǹ a casa. Ocho de esas mujeres que padecieron abusos y violaciones estǹ a punto de reunirse en secreto para tomar una decisin̤ que determinar ̀su futuro. Qu ̌deben hacer? Perdonarlos, como pide el obispo Peters? Responder a la violencia con ms̀ violencia? O marcharse para siempre, lejos del n︢ico mundo que hasta ahora han conocido? En el punto en el que estas ocho mujeres ancianas, jv̤enes o niąs, todas ellas singulares y genuinas toman la palabra y comienzan a compartir sus dudas, su ira y sus aspiraciones, arranca esta formidable novela, inspirada en hechos reales que ocurrieron hace tan sl̤o una dčada.… (más)
Durante años, en la recóndita colonia menonita de Molotschna, decenas de mujeres fueron sistemáticamente drogadas y violadas mientras dormían. Despertaban doloridas y sangrando. La comunidad se empeñaba en mantener que todo era producto de su absurda imaginación, o quizá obra del demonio, que las castigaba por sus pecados. Los violadores, sin embargo, eran hombres de la propia colonia: tíos, hermanos o vecinos que finalmente acabaron en prisión pero que ahora, en apenas dos días, quedarán libres bajo fianza y regresarán a casa. Ocho de esas mujeres que padecieron abusos y violaciones están a punto de reunirse en secreto para tomar una decisión que determinará su futuro. ¿Qué deben hacer? ¿Perdonarlos, como pide el obispo Peters? ¿Responder a la violencia con más violencia? ¿O marcharse para siempre, lejos del único mundo que hasta ahora han conocido? En el punto en el que estas ocho mujeres –ancianas, jóvenes o niñas, todas ellas singulares y genuinas– toman la palabra y comienzan a compartir sus dudas, su ira y sus aspiraciones, arranca esta formidable novela, inspirada en hechos reales que ocurrieron hace tan sólo una década
Información procedente del conocimiento común inglés.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
For Marj / ricordo le risate
And for Erik / e ancora ridiamo
Primeras palabras
Información procedente del conocimiento común inglés.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
My name is August Epp -- irrelevant for all purposes, other than that I've been appointed the minute-taker for the women's meetings because the women are illiterate and unable to do it themselves.
Citas
Información procedente del conocimiento común inglés.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
She went on to say that, in her opinion, doubt and uncertainty and questioning are inextricably bound together with faith.
Salome doesn't know about the straw in her hair. It sits above her ear, nestled in that space, like a librarian's No. 2 pencil.
I wanted to run after Autje and apologize for scaring her—but that would have scared her even more. Or perhaps my words are as ridiculous to her as they are to me, which is comforting only a little.
Pacifism, Agata says, is good. Any violence is unjustifiable. By staying in Molotschna, she says, we women would be betraying the central tenet of the Mennonite faith, which is pacifism, because by staying we would knowingly be placing ourselves in a direct collision course with violence, perpetrated by us or against us. We would be inviting harm. We would be in a state of war. We would turn Molotschna into a battlefield.
Salome continues to yell, her voice hoarse. Mariche, are you not afraid that your own sweet Julius will become a monster like his father because you do nothing to protect him, nothing to educate him, nothing to teach him the criminality of his father's ways, the depravity...
(I'll mention here that Mariche, in broken English, also told Ona to "fuck it off." So much of what exists in the outside world is kept out of Molotschna, but curses, like pain, always find a way in.)
Ona apologizes again and adds that she, too, was considering the verse from Philippians and thinking on what is good. Freedom is good, she says. It's better than slavery. And forgiveness is good, better than revenge. And hope for the unknown is good, better than hatred of the familiar.
But the men of Molotschna, and particularly the attackers, have not asked for forgiveness, Salome points out.
Forgiveness is moot, Ona insists, if not heartfelt. The only thing we must do is protect our God-given souls. We must find it in our own hearts to forgive the men of Molotschna, regardless of what Peters or anybody else expects of us and even if the men don't ask for it themselves and even if they claim their innocence all the way to their graves.
They are the same thing, really, Ona says, steadily. I believe that my soul, my essence, my intangible energy, is the presence of God within me, and that by bringing peace to my soul I am honouring God. If I can understand how these crimes my have occurred I am able to forgive these men. And I am almost able, certainly from a distance, to pity these men, and to love them. Love is good, and better than retaliation.
Imagine my hens, adds Agata, telling me to turn around and leave the premises when I show up to gather the eggs. Ona begs the women to stop making her laugh, she's afraid she'll go into premature labour. This makes them laugh harder! They even find it uproariously funny that I continue to write during all of this. Ona's laughter is the finest, the most exquisite sound in all of nature, filled with breath and promise, and the only sound she releases into the world that she doesn't also try to retrieve.
I insist that I don't, and nor doe it matter what I think. Ona stops laughing, barely. Do you think that's true, she asks, that it doesn't matter what you think? I blush. Maul my own head. She continues: How would you feel if in your entire lifetime it had never mattered what you thought?
Ona smiles back(!). But how are we to determine God's will, if not by thinking? I blush again and shake my head, resist the urge to claw it to pieces. Salome interrupts: That's easy, Ona, Peters will interpret it for us! The women howl with laughter yet again.
Yes, says Ona, I would say so. Peters said these men are evil, the perpetrators, but that's not true. It's the quest for power, on the part of Peters and the elders and on the part of the founders of Molotschna, that is responsible for these attacks, because in their quest for power, they needed to have those they'd have power over, and those people are us. And they have taught this lesson of power to the boys and men of Molotschna, and the boys and men of Molotschna have been excellent students. In that regard. But, says Mejal, don't we all want some type of power?
I'm reminded of Montaigne's statement: "Nothing is so firmly believed as that which a man knoweth least."
Knowledge is fluid, it changes, facts change, become un-facts.
The women in the loft have taught me that consciousness is resistance, that faith is action, that time is running out.
I asked her what good the minutes would do her and the other women if they were unable to read them? (But she may well have asked me instead, What good is it to be alive if you are not in the world?)
Maybe there was no reason for the women to have the minutes they couldn't read. The purpose, all along, was for me to take them.
Últimas palabras
Información procedente del conocimiento común inglés.Edita para encontrar en tu idioma.
I look at the boys, asleep, unconscious to be exact, and plead silently with them to tell me the truth.
Sinopsis: durante aǫs, en la recn̤dita colonia menonita de Molotschna, decenas de mujeres fueron sistemt̀icamente drogadas y violadas mientras dorma̕n. Despertaban doloridas y sangrando. La comunidad se empeąba en mantener que todo era producto de su absurda imaginacin̤, o quiz ̀obra del demonio, que las castigaba por sus pecados. Los violadores, sin embargo, eran hombres de la propia colonia: to̕s, hermanos o vecinos que finalmente acabaron en prisin̤ pero que ahora, en apenas dos da̕s, quedarǹ libres bajo fianza y regresarǹ a casa. Ocho de esas mujeres que padecieron abusos y violaciones estǹ a punto de reunirse en secreto para tomar una decisin̤ que determinar ̀su futuro. Qu ̌deben hacer? Perdonarlos, como pide el obispo Peters? Responder a la violencia con ms̀ violencia? O marcharse para siempre, lejos del n︢ico mundo que hasta ahora han conocido? En el punto en el que estas ocho mujeres ancianas, jv̤enes o niąs, todas ellas singulares y genuinas toman la palabra y comienzan a compartir sus dudas, su ira y sus aspiraciones, arranca esta formidable novela, inspirada en hechos reales que ocurrieron hace tan sl̤o una dčada.
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Ocho de esas mujeres que padecieron abusos y violaciones están a punto de reunirse en secreto para tomar una decisión que determinará su futuro. ¿Qué deben hacer? ¿Perdonarlos, como pide el obispo Peters? ¿Responder a la violencia con más violencia? ¿O marcharse para siempre, lejos del único mundo que hasta ahora han conocido?
En el punto en el que estas ocho mujeres –ancianas, jóvenes o niñas, todas ellas singulares y genuinas– toman la palabra y comienzan a compartir sus dudas, su ira y sus aspiraciones, arranca esta formidable novela, inspirada en hechos reales que ocurrieron hace tan sólo una década