“There is a mountain and a woman on the mountain, and the two speak. The woman shouldn’t write, but she does. Both of them—the mountain and the woman who inhabits it—speak in a world, a world that belongs to men. Harsh, lyrical, cruel, and with the rare sweetness of the voices most don’t listen to—and much less write about—El monte de las furias is a powerful and beautiful novel.”

“This ethical and aesthetic exploration of our relationship with all forms of life crosses time and matter to reach the crevices where body and territory come together. And in that space, the narrative voice pours out a loving manifesto of our passage through the world moving against an awful destiny. Fernanda Trías’s clairvoyant, shamanic, lyrical, and psychic literature returns. If mountains could speak, they would have the fury of her language.”

“El monte de las furias is one of the most unique and powerful texts I have read in recent years. A fantastic novel where the topic of the inner monster (a recurring theme in Trías’s work) intertwines with the question of territory—that is, the traumatic bonds that tie human geography, natural forces, and the subtleties of intimacy together. Trías, a fundamental author of Latin American literature, opens her writing to an innovative investigation that manages to establish astonishing links between very different fantastical literary traditions in Spanish: the Río de la Plata and the tropical gothic come together in a happy union.”

“El monte de las furias is an exceptional, difficult, disembodied, beautiful, primal, earthy, green, and very, very alive book, despite the fact that disappearances and time are or appear to be its greatest protagonists.”

“Fernanda Trías makes a strong landing with this novel—a harsh reflection on man and his darkest side—that is written with refined prose. (...) The author orchestrates a journey to the heart of violence and melancholy, trapping the reader in a dense, almost tactile atmosphere that appears to be made of fog and damp earth. The narrative folds like a spiral in which the boundaries between nature, memory, and decomposition are blurred, creating a text that is as harsh as it is lyrical. At the heart of the story, a woman lives isolated on a mountain that seems to devour everything it touches. Her routine is marked by caring for its boundaries and recording in her notebook of painful memories: a brutal mother and the frustrated desire to learn. Her life changes when corpses appear in her garden. Together with the caretaker, she decides to bury them in silence, but the bodies continue to arrive, turning her refuge into a space of accumulation of death. The mountain is presented as a living and pulsating character, an organism that swallows bodies and exhales time. (...) The use of language in this work is superb. Each word seems to be measured, loaded with history, as if it came from the depths of the mountain… The author does not seek to console; her prose, which has a disturbing rhythm, forces the reader to confront the rot and the beauty that are born from the same soil.”