A Brief History of Failure

Fátima Villalta’s fiction has a political dimension in the sense defined by the French philosopher Jacques Rancière, not because of the author’s political or ideological stance, nor because it recounts “major” political events, but because it makes visible and audible those human beings involved in the contestation and negotiation of political affairs. In doing so, it breaks with the centuries-old, canonical narrative tradition of great “heroes and martyrs” and allows us to gain a deeper understanding of our societies and of the individuals who inhabit, endure, and shape them.
Werner Mackenbach

Set mostly in Nicaragua, the exilic perspective of these stories opens up the possibility of inhabiting other spaces across the region. Although Central American literature has traditionally sought to portray majestic or parodic figures, Fátima has chosen to write about, situate, and thereby give historical embodiment to those who might otherwise disappear, just like official documents and historical archives: deliberately destroyed, flooded, stolen, sold, left to gather dust or grow moldy, or simply swept away by the currents of tropical storms.
Elena Salamanca

Fátima Villalta’s language is clear and direct, with flashes of poetry. Beneath its surface, however, swim characters caught in the dark currents of the past or drawn toward the false brightness of the future. We come to know them through their loves, their disappointments, and the tiny miracles that illuminate their everyday lives. In the deep waters of these stories, happiness occasionally emerges, unexpected and magical, like the song of a distant whale.
Rodrigo Fuentes