In an NPR interview, Carolina de Robertis asks, in regard to the writing of Cantoras, "How do you live radiantly in a time and place where the world seems bent on your erasure?" Of course, the question is dependent on its context. In the novel, we read about a particular repressive era in Uruguayan history at the height of its military dictatorship with its kidnappings, tortures, and killings. The dictatorship lasted twelve years, from 1973 to 1985. The marginalized among us may draw comparisons to the repressive state of our nation's affairs and ask ourselves that same question in our respective contexts. And, in doing so, we may find a bit of hope in this novel. Following the stories of five queer women who found kinship on a remote beach, we witness progress that seemed so improbable, it seemed impossible.
Cantoras is a slow-burner novel in the best way. If we're gathering five different queer women on a South American beach, I want to spend time with them. The book’s narrative style switches between character perspectives, which means it switches tone, as no woman is alike another. Flaca, often regarded as the leader of the group, brings Romina, Anita, Paz, and Malena together for a beach trip as a reprieve from the oppressive city where everyone is on edge under the dictatorship. Tentatively, they reveal themselves to each other as cantoras, the term women would use at the time to signal queerness. The identity binds them together in Polonio. There, they can be themselves with their chosen family – y con bikini. It sounds like paradise. One of the most beautiful things in this book (besides, in what is a unanimous vote, La Venus) is the way they make a home for themselves, however small. They just need a place, and the significance of "place" in its meanings across time and space is demonstrated in a novel that spans across decades.
de Robertis bases the novel on things that actually took place, found through her research and friendships with older queer Uruguayan women. Knowing this is both heart wrenching and inspirational; often real progress costs us. de Robertis shows us this by developing queer women protagonists of different ages, from different social classes, with different familial circumstances, all affected by the homophobia and misogyny rampant in the culture, but having each of them challenge their oppression in their own way. A valuable and unforgettable read, Cantoras is a book you’ll keep returning to.
Andrea Morales is a daughter of Guatemalan immigrants and from Los Angeles. She graduated from the University of Southern California with a B.A. in English Literature and a minor in Psychology. She now works at Macmillan Publishers as a Junior Contracts Associate for the adult trade division. Her book reviews and recommendations can be found on Instagram at @nastymuchachitareads and she lurks on Twitter as @nastymuchachita.