\u201cThe Bitch<\/i> is a novel of true violence. Artist that she is, Pilar Quintana uncovers wounds we didn\u2019t know we had, shows us their beauty, and then throws a handful of salt into them.\u201d
\n-Yuri Herrera, author of Signs Preceding the End of the World<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cPilar Quintana weaves human nature and the chaos of the universe together with extraordinary mastery. This is a novel full of mysteries about unfulfilled desire, guilt, and the places where love still exists.\u201d
\n-Gabriela Alem\u00e1n, author of Poso Wells<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cA raw yet beautiful story about maternity and the jungle.\u201d
\n-HAY Festival<\/p>\n
\u201cThe world of The Bitch<\/i> is heartbreakingly true, it\u2019s there, closer than we think, and yet remains invisible.\u201d
\n-El Pa\u00eds<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cPilar Quintana has created a psychological tale that sweeps and drags us like the waves of the sea.\u201d
\n-El Tiempo<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cTo narrate the baroque jungle and American sea with such sobriety is a great triumph.\u201d
\n-Semana<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cThe Bitch <\/i>is far from simple\u00a0in its brevity, communicating an inner universe that readers can easily identify with, by having experienced similar circumstances, reliving childhood, or relating to the portrayal of the landscape and those who inhabit it. This novel is a little gem that reminds me, in its intensity and fluidity, of The Old Man and the Sea<\/i> by Hemingway, or The Pearl<\/i> by Steinbeck.\u201d
\n-El Nuevo D\u00eda<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cA profound and moving drama about life and destiny.\u201d
\n-WMagaz\u00edn<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cThe Bitch<\/i> is a meticulous novel, lugubrious and disquieting as the jungle, and as stifling as the sky described in the book, about to explode.\u201d
\n-Melba Escobar, author<\/p>\n
\u201cA tale narrated with skill and a steady hand.\u201d
\n-El Espectador<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201cQuintana works wonders with her disillusioned, no-nonsense, powerful prose.\u201d
\n-Juan Gabriel V\u00e1squez<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cI found her there this morning, paws up,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Elodia pointing to the spot on the beach where trash brought in or churned up by the sea collected: branches, plastic bags, bottles.<\/p>\n
\u201cPoisoned?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019d you do? Bury her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Do\u00f1a Elodia nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe grandkids.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUp in the cemetery?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, right here on the beach.\u201d<\/p>\n
Plenty of town dogs died by poison. Some people said folks killed them on purpose but Damaris couldn\u2019t believe anybody would do such a thing and thought they ate the rat bait people put out by mistake, or maybe they actually ate the rats, which would be easy to catch after they were poisoned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d said Damaris.<\/p>\n
Do\u00f1a Elodia just nodded. She\u2019d had that old girl a long time, a black dog that spent all day lying around Do\u00f1a Elodia\u2019s beach restaurant <\/b>and following her everywhere: to church, her daughter-in-law\u2019s, the store, the pier \u2026 She must have been very sad but it didn\u2019t show. Setting down one puppy\u2015which she\u2019d just fed with a syringe that she filled from a cup of milk\u2015Do\u00f1a Elodia picked up another. There were ten in all, and so tiny their eyes hadn\u2019t even opened.<\/p>\n
\u201cBorn six days ago,\u201d she said. \u201cThey\u2019re not going to survive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Do\u00f1a Elodia had been old for as long as Damaris could remember, wore thick-lens glasses that made her eyes look buggy, and was fat from the waist down. A woman of few words who moved slow and kept her cool even on the busiest days at the restaurant, <\/b>when drunks and kids were charging around the outdoor tables. You could tell she was anxious now, though.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you give them away?\u201d asked Damaris.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomebody took one, but nobody wants pups this young.\u201d<\/p>\n
Since it was low season, the restaurant had no tables set out on the sand, no music, no tourists, nothing; just empty space that looked enormous, and Do\u00f1a Elodia on a bench with ten puppies in a cardboard box. Damaris looked them over carefully and made her choice.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I have that one?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
Do\u00f1a Elodia set the puppy she\u2019d just fed back in the box, picked up the one Damaris had pointed to\u2014gray fur, floppy ears\u2014and looked behind it.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a girl,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Translated by Lisa Dillman<\/p>\n