Kangro reports back from the abyss

"From time to time, ... the abyss itself will select a single person and look them straight in the eye. Frequently the chosen individual will close their eyes, avert their gaze, shrink into themselves or even pretend that what has happened did not occur. Maarja Kangro, the author of the non-fiction novel “The Glass Child”, stares right back and does not flinch.” - translation of an excerpt from the Estonian language description* of "Klaaslaps".

“Klaaslaps” (The Glass Child) is categorized as a non-fiction novel (“dokumentaalromaan”) in Estonia rather than the memoir that it appears to be with its many diary-like daily entries. That may have been a personal decision by the author, but the beneficial result is that it provides a kind of protective barrier between the work and the reader. Because if you said to me: “Would you read an abortion memoir?” I’d probably have said: “Ugh, that sounds kind of gross, no thanks.” But if you said “Would you read a non-fiction novel about abortion?” It is as if the words “fiction” (the eye can easily ignore the short “non” prefix) and “novel” act as a distancing elements. You can pretend that the events didn’t happen, even though Kangro is reporting back about them after her return.

There is no way to cushion what this book is about and it is not a spoiler to say it. Kangro receives her diagnosis early in the book. Her child, if carried to term, would be born with acrania (without a skull) & anencephaly (without a portion of the brain). The prognosis for the infant is stillbirth or death within hours. The clinic doctors do not even hesitate before asking: “When would you like to schedule the termination?”

After an in media res introduction on the morning of the abortion clinic check-in and the diagnosis flashback, Kangro takes us back a year to a time when she was travelling to the Ukraine and Italy in the course of her work as writer and translator (in addition to her own prose & poetry, she is the Estonian translator of a wide range of authors from Lemony Snicket to Umberto Eco). The flashback gives us a view of previous failed pregnancies to up the stakes of the current situation but also acts as a buffer for the reader before the rest of the story.

We are then plunged back into the day of the termination procedure and its aftermath. Kangro’s actions and thoughts and conversations with others will take you through an entire gamut of emotions from horror to grief. It certainly fulfills all of the looked-for qualities of a book for me: attachment, emotion, suspense, drama, resolution and release. Yes, it is a report back from the abyss, but it is a novel as well. I don’t expect that anything else that I read this year will shake me as much.

Other Information and Links

The idea for the book’s title came from Martin Hudacek’s sculpture "The Child Who Was Never Born" which you can see at http://www.martinhudacek.sk/replicas.html, where a transparent glass child is depicted comforting a grieving mother.

I read “Klaaslaps” in the original Estonian. It has no international translations as of this writing in March 2017, but you can watch for news of future translations at the book’s page at the Estonian Literature Centre: http://www.estlit.ee/elis/?cmd=book&id=70115. Based on this London Book Fair 2017 article at Estonian World, it seems very likely that an English translation of 'The Glass Child" is already in the works (see the 2nd last paragraph).

* Here is a full translation of the book's Estonian language description:
"Kangro’s work is like an explosive charge that shakes up everything that it touches when it goes off. All borders are torn down here, including those between private and public life, melded together are emotional experiences, literary gossip, contemplations about the absurdity of birth and death, the war in the Ukraine, a helpless old woman in a hospital ward, Harta 12**, and an abandoned literary residency. In Kangro’s nihilistic and traumatic world the inquisitive reader will see that familiar places and events will acquire an entirely new shape and meaning,“ writes Aro Velmet.

A colleague adds: "From time to time, not very often, an utterly improbable act of fate will occur, when the abyss itself will select a single person and look them straight in the eye. Frequently the chosen individual will close their eyes, avert their gaze, shrink into themselves or even pretend that what has happened did not occur. Maarja Kangro, the author of the documentary novel “The Glass Child”, stares right back and does not flinch. This book will not leave you cold.”

** Harta 12 or Charter 12 was a 2012 citizen’s petition in Estonia initiated by a group of writers and activists to draw attention to issues in the government. The petition is still posted at http://petitsioon.ee/harta12 ( )