INTRODUCED BY Julie Buntin author of the novel Marlena, published by Henry Holt in 2017
AS THE prologue of The Volcano Daughters comes to a close, the speakers—a chorus of ghost-women who, individually and en masse, are among the most compelling characters I’ve encountered in contemporary fiction—turn to the writer, Gina María Balibrera. “We’re talking to you right now,” they tell her. Or she channels them. “But fíjate: don’t get carried away with la poesía, ¿me entiendes? Don’t forget to listen. These words are ours, these stories ours.”
Their words breathe life into a new history of El Salvador, one that recognizes and criticizes, the way so few historical novels truly do, the fearsome responsibility and power of the story-teller. spans decades and continents, always centering the women who are its beating heart—not just the chorus, but sisters Graciela and Consuelo, who survive El Gran Pendejo’s brutal
