Silvia Arazi

Rosa, Rosita, is a beautiful, gentle, melancholic woman, who in her old age suffers a slow and prolonged deterioration. The narrator, her daughter, helplessly observes this painful process. She visits her, listens to her, reads to her, tries to make her laugh, sings to her. When her mother dies, she feels the need to write about her. These pages narrate Rosita’s past, how she met her husband and created a family, with everything this implied for many women at the time in terms of being relegated and silenced. In writing about her, the narrator encounters, as if looking in a mirror, her own childhood, her youth, her first loves, her lack of desire to have children, and her strained relationship with her father.

This is a grief memoir, a love song: a stunningly intimate novel about the end of a mother’s life told though the eyes of her daughter, and about the lacerating emptiness of that absence. It is about how for the daughter, a “prisoner to words”, the act of writing is her only means of tackling a subject of this magnitude. In the words of the narrator, these are “pages I write slowly, simmering away between long valleys of silence, with the only desire being, perhaps, to remember that voice.” This is a story of mourning, of intense bonds, and above all, a moving tribute to a mother’s love.

The form of the novel reflects the narrator’s grieving process: it is fragmentary, with minimalistic chapters oscillating between the first and third person as her memories are explored and her mother is immortalised in these short glimpses. In a narrative style reminiscent of Marguerite Duras, this is a novel in which the voice prevents another voice from being forgotten, inferring that something immense and sacred is at stake here, that our existence in this world also relies on the way in which we articulate our past, and that our own identity is at risk of shattering if we do not protect the pieces that make us who we are.

As Silvia delves into her childhood memories, we fall in love with Rosita. We watch her in the kitchen as she prepares Arabic delicacies. We listen to her requesting her favourite songs in a whisper. We spy on her as she rests on her bed, worried we might disturb her. A Mother's Voice is not only a precious tribute to a departed loved one, it is a portrait of a whole generation of women who did not believe they had a voice, but with love and hope, they raised daughters who managed to empower themselves.

In trying to write the story of a mother, the novel also becomes the story of a family. When the narrator’s siblings find out she is writing the book, they ask her not to talk about certain subjects, to which she responds: “I also try to explain that each of us lived in a different house, in a different family, even though we had the same parents and lived under the same roof.” Arazi explores the idea of perception and memory, and the nature of truth in writing itself: can anyone be satisfied with the written word? Are there true facts, or does the very act of narrating something therefore obscure it, destroy it? “Diving into memory is like diving into a deep sea in the middle of the night, among fish, weeds and sea monsters,” she writes. Her examination of words, of language, reflects her grieving process and how, through writing, she gives form to her mother, gives her a voice. The narrator is trying to use her words to give name to something that is unnameable. “The pain is a blood clot. It is silence. It is a non-word.” Although every word hurts, Silvia sits down to write and is able to transmute all her grief. Beyond being a literary gem, A Mother's Voice is pure healing.

An inspiring fable for readers of all ages about the immense power contained in a simple sentence to change the direction of a life. What if just contemplating the possibility of happiness is the crucial, decisive step toward attaining it? 

Atilio is a pharmacist who leads a dull life. His wife thinks he is a fool, and by virtue of hearing her often say so, he has come to believe it too. Deep down he has resigned himself to the fact that his days pass by in uneventful calm. 

One day on holiday, while enjoying a sunset alone on the beach, a beautiful young girl named Delfina asks him to accompany her to the port where her aunts are waiting to have tea with her, and when they say goodbye she kisses him on the cheek and says she thinks he is a “really interesting” man. 

After this meeting an unexpected interest begins to awaken inside Attilio. Who is this mysterious young woman? Perhaps she is a mermaid in disguise? And why does he suddenly start to feel things that he had forgotten about? Like the cool morning breeze or the possibility that something truly interesting is about to happen to a truly interesting man.

A moving reflection on marriage, love and heartbreak

“I’m watching him sleep, a man who will be my ex-husband starting tomorrow, and will probably never sleep next to me again.” La separación begins the very night Lucía resolves to split up with her husband and face the changes, some painful and others not devoid of humour, that this new life will bring.

Ever eclipsed by her older sister, a father hiding an important secret, and an absent, egotistical mother whose existence will take a dramatic turn toward the end of her life, Lucía tells an intimate tale. Her story is interspersed with memories and reminiscences of her childhood, gradually weaving the plot of her biography and revealing her as a daughter and a woman.

 “Silvia Arazi manages to compose in this text the structure of love and indifference, seduction, pride, the remains of love, the reflection of our parents in us, the upbringing of children and the internal changes that occur after a hinge moment.” Revista Kundra

“The narrator, poet and singer Silvia Arazi, dives with exquisite sensitivity in the turbid waters of love wear, incomprehension, family ties, the search for individual paths. […] Arazi renews a song that resembles, but that is never the same, with her personal voice.” Perfil

 “With a clear and engaging prose, Silvia Arazi invites us to be part of the protagonist's daily life, her emotions and her memories. It’s impossible to feel identified with the pain of loss. How to avoid empathy with someone who suffers for something that surely, today or in the future, can be part of our own life? We take Lucia in our heart, and we will remember her when the absence is part of our day to day life.” Tren Insomne

“The separation is a book of a bitter beauty that manages to draw that slow progression of routines that suddenly leave their daily invisibility to become thorny ghosts.”  “If, as they say, the Devil's secret is to convince us of his non-existence, Silvia Arazi’s secret is to convince us that telling stories is very easy.” P. Martínez Burkett, Blog Solo Tempestad

“What is truly extraordinary is the simple way of traversing the pain of the loss that the narrator reveals. At times, her voice has the quality of a caress. In that sense, the epigraph of Katherine Mansfield works as a key, her prose shares with Arazi's an essential feature: the naturalness to speak of the deepest feelings through the moments of the trivial experience of everyday life.” Verónica Boix, La Agenda Revista

 “The Separation is a brave book. Difficult, like processing grief, that no one knows what it truly means. You can turn to new age therapies and ontological coachs for easy answers, but not to writers like Silvia Arazi.” Adela Sánchez, Infobae

The Singing Teacher is a novel that unfolds in three parts, structured like the movements of a musical piece, narrating a pivotal period in the lives of a young artist couple: Ana and Federico. She is an aspiring opera singer, while he is a musician in the symphony orchestra. At her singing teacher’s house, Ana meets Úrsula Fuchs, a beautiful and enigmatic young woman, and is immediately captivated by her voice and talent. From that moment on, Ana’s life—and her relationship—undergoes a profound change, as she becomes entangled in a haunting triangular dynamic that will irrevocably alter their destinies.

As a backdrop, Silvia Arazi’s novel unveils the secrets and excesses of the opera world—its lights and shadows—through the figure of the eccentric yet insightful singing teacher, Mara Bertollini. She navigates the story alongside other unforgettable characters: León, a violinist who embraces failure as his banner; Mariuccia and Valerio, who bring charm and humor; Maestro Folger; and, above all, music and voice, which emerge as true protagonists of the novel.

The Singing Teacher is, above all, a profound reflection on the mystery of art, beauty, and talent.

"Silvia Arazi’s poignantly feminine prose explores the relationship between three characters to reveal the intimate link between voice and eroticism, weaving a desire that cannot be possessed without loss—like the song of the sirens."
— Luciano Lutereau

"The Singing Teacher is a remarkable novel, raw and honest, as all truths aspire to be."
— Sebastián Basualdo, Página 12

"The Singing Teacher is an honest, moving, exquisite novel: the mystery of art, the abyss of artistic creation, beauty as a space/act of subversion, talent, and desire—these are some of its central themes."
— La República (Uruguay), 07/02/2017

Una colección de cuentos en los que la autora explora terrenos que oscilan entre lo fantástico y la introspección, con temas tales como la búsqueda del amor perdurable, la necesidad de comunicarse con los otros, las consecuencias de la rutina o la hipocresía que se esconde tras lo que, aparentemente, se presenta como una vida sin sobresaltos.

Debut poético de la autora. En el poemario se combinan recursos narrativos tales como el diálogo, que poco a poco evolucionan hacia un mundo onírico evocado a partir de la observación de una mujer por su vecina, a través de la pared medianera que separa los patios de sus casas.

Estrés es una palabra que se escucha cada vez más a menudo. Es algo que todos reconocemos y padecemos cada vez con más frecuencia. La causa puede encontrarse en exigencias laborales, enfermedades, pérdidas, temor al futuro, peleas familiares, valores bursátiles que caen en picada, amenaza de pérdida del empleo, miedo a ser rechazados, deseo imperioso de triunfar, necesidad de responder a las expectativas de los otros, temer el juicio ajeno o nuestro propio juicio. Todos hemos terminado algún día agotados, no hemos podido conciliar el sueño o hemos despertado en medio de la noche, todos hemos deseado fervientemente un masaje o unas vacaciones porque decimos sentirnos "estresados". Y si los periodos libres de estrés se vuelven cada vez menos frecuentes, nuestro cuerpo acaba enfermando. Para evitarlo, este Botiquín antiestrés ofrece técnicas de meditación y de respiración, oraciones que propician la gratitud y el perdón, prácticas que invitan a reencontrarse con uno mismo, con el poder personal y la paz interior. 

Petrus is a grumpy, greedy and cruel cobbler, but he knows how to mend wounded hearts. He doesn't like children, laments or listening to love's sorrows. Until one day Asia, a little girl with big black eyes, enters through his window and becomes his assistant. One winter day, a snowfall alerts him to the girl's absence and he discovers a heart of his own beating inside her.

Sabrina parece estar siempre distraída. “Está siempre en las nubes”, dice su padre. Y su madre no sabe qué hacer. ¿Qué le pasa a Sabrina? Sólo la tía Cora la entiende, la niña quiere vivir en las nubes, tiene un mundo ahí, una casa …una vida hermosa. ¿O es que acaso todos vivimos igual y en el mismo lugar?

When I finished writing the poems for The Lives of Cats I left them asleep in their room, until, in the middle of the night, they woke me up with their meows: the poems asked to become a song! I could not deny such catlike insistence. I played music for them, and ended up singing with them until dawn. I hope you can join their voices to ours.

El niño de pocas palabras (The Boy of Few Words) is a story of friendship that shows to what extent affection can change our lives, and speaks about the hidden talents we all have inside. The book tells the story of an encounter between two rather different people: a boy named Juan, who barely speaks and is bullied by his schoolmates, and Marko, a reclusive man who comes to town from a faraway land and builds his house high in a tree. The child and the foreigner become friends, and Marko quickly senses a hidden talent in Juan. He ends up becoming his music teacher, as well as his teacher in life. Thanks to Marko, the boy recovers his words and his self-esteem through the love of music.

Illustrated by Agustina Morón.

"Arazi’s greatest merit is having achieved true literary creation, a story that overcomes some prejudices and will challenge any reading committee. Doesn’t a story where a little boy agrees to enter a treehouse built by a foreigner newly arrived in town challenge the most elementary command: do not talk to strangers? It certainly does. However, this is not an obstacle, but rather a device to discuss being different, fears, alienation, solitude, and the lack of communication." Sandra Patricia Rey, Megara Argentina.

"Mixing the music of the verses, the tinkle and the murmuring of words, Silvia Arazi brings out a secret card: there is a member of the gray and formal cuterly family that isn’t so gray nor so formal. The little one in the family, Little Spoon, desobedient and dreamy, is in love with John Knive, a cheeky dancer that writes love letters. Because love is everywhere, and Silvia Arazi knows it. Love can triumph and make all the colours appear amidst the grayness. How to find this out? Reading The Cutlery Family, and discovering what happens when Little Spoon dreams over and over, and when she finally finds out where the sun had been hidden." Graciela Melgarejo, Noticias Positivas 

With photos by Leticia Fraguela.

Reseña, 'La familia Cubierto: el juego detrás del sonido', La Primera Piedra, 3/11/2017