The Hands of the Women in My Family Were Not Made for Writing

At the center of Eganа Jabbаrova’s book is the body of a young woman—whose existence, on the one hand, is governed by strict rules of a patriarchal Azerbaijani family and community, and on the other, is subjected to a neurological illness that causes severe pain and takes away her speech. Approaching each part of the body with the methodical rigor of a researcher, the writer raises layers of memory, traditions, and practices—along with prohibitions and requirements—linking them to what is the most personal, fundamental, and inevitable thing a person has: the physical shell. Perhaps the illness, in the end, does not only limit and deprive, but also provides the key to liberation?

Stories spanning several generations of women—belonging and alienness, noncompliance and survival, a legacy you don’t choose, and how to live with it. In these terms, the debut prose of Eganа Jabbаrova exists.