Berlie Doherty

Gioga oye el mar: el furor de las olas en los rompientes, el burbujeo de la espuma, la canción de las focas que aman y odian a los hombres. Ella es la hija del mar, pero no sabe el camino para volver a él. Munroe la recogió en los arrecifes, en medio de la tormenta, y Jannet, su madre en la isla, intentará evitar que el hombre con el manto de los océanos vuelva para llevársela. Pero su celo se confierte en locura, y sólo las leyendas y las viejas historias liberarán a la pequeña isla del invierno y de la muerte.

"La hija del mar" es una novela fantástica en la que relatos tradicionales de Islandia, Escocia e Irlanda se entrelazan en una historia sobre la búsqueda de identidad.

Berlie Doherty es una prestigiosa autora de literatura infantil y juvenil. Es profesora y ha dado clase en colegios de niños y de formación de adultos. Ha escrito también novelas, obras de teatro y guiones radiofónicos.

(Fuente: contracubierta de la edición de SM "Gran Angular").… (mais)

Representation: Black, Asian and biracial (half Black and half white, half Black and half Asian) characters
Trigger warnings: Adoption, physical and terminal illness, death of parents and children from a contagion, grief and loss depiction
Score: Five points out of ten.
I own this book.

Where do I begin with this one? This book was one amongst many that was part of a library giveaway, and initially, it looked promising, until the low ratings and reviews lowered my expectations. I burned through other fictional works I owned, then I picked up this one and read it. When I finished it, it was a perfect example of how not to write a diverse story, since a white author wrote about a Black character. Abela is inaccurate at best, and blackface and cultural appropriation at worst.

It starts with the first two characters I see, Abela, the titular one who is Black, and Rosa who is biracial. Abela lived in an impoverished Tanzanian village infected with HIV/AIDS. Many people have died already, including some on the page, most likely for shock value and exaggerated and glorified trauma rather than anything meaningful. A few pages later, I see Rosa's perspective with her white mother, and that's where the flaws surface: the characters are hard to connect or relate with, even though Abela went through hardship to find a foster family after her biological parents succumbed to HIV/AIDS. The narrative is too disjointed because it switches between POVs every second chapter (sometimes that can work, but since Abela and Rosa are in different locations for most of it, that device ruins my enjoyment.)

Abela first resides at her social worker's house, but she is abusive so she has to move to another house with white people which didn't work out that well. This time the family is British Nigerian (wow, that's her third foster family) and again, subtle cultural differences prevent her from staying there. Rosa's mother considered adding an adoptive child to her family, much to Rosa's chagrin. Rosa once had an adoptive brother whose name I forgot, but his biological father wanted him back despite the circumstances, much to her shock. The conclusion occurred in the final pages where Abela stayed at Rosa and Rosa's mother's house, making that her fourth foster family, but that only felt like white saviourism at this point. Couldn't the author make it that Abela stayed at a British Tanzanian family's house instead? A Black author would've done a better job.… (mais)

I bought Abela over a year ago, and read the first chapter, then due to many factors I put it to one side to read lots of other books in between. I returned to it only yesterday and have just put it down now. What a beautiful book. It is one of those few perfectly formed, eloquently written and superbly characterized books that you struggle to put down and will stay in your mind for days to come.

The themes of love, loss and security are universal, but the story itself is a unique one that explores topics of adoption, trafficking, illegal immigration and even FGM. It is narrated from both protagonists' points of view - 13 year old Rosa in Sheffield, and 9 year old Abela first in Tanzania and then in England, with Abela eventually being adopted by Rosa's mother, Jen. There is a special poignancy in the way that Abela's childlike fears, hopes and perspectives are contrasted with the adult way of looking at things, and I was moved to tears at times.… (mais)