Synopsis "You Shall not Kill"
Caution: This novel contains truths of humanity some readers might find too close for comfort. The first and most revealing truth is that you can never return home. Whether plagued by the foreignness of exile or taking arms and stealing life, Julia Navarro's You Shall Not Kill positions belonging, family, loyalty and even vengeance within a naked reality dressed in spellbinding poetic prose. Although we can never return home, we can, apparently, take the blue pill and return with Navarro to the 1940s, a highly chronicled decade rich in nostalgic prominence, even though Navarro's 1940s Europe feels contemporary and relevant to our current moment. With today’s divisive political climate, You Shall Not Kill is the emotional education we all didn't know we so desperately needed. Although the essence of the novel hinges on Fernando, a young editor whose father, an imprisoned Republican, asks him to forego the front and ponder the shackles of war; the tale is one of wanderlust adventure, unadulterated passions and exilic reinvention. Follow Fernando, Catalina and Eulogia as they chart new paths, each one abandoning old ghosts and yet learning that ghosts do not respect national borders. Fleeing a battered, post-Civil War Spain, the young adults move through Alexandria and Nazi-occupied Paris, sharing their lost generation anxieties with other expats and immigrants trying to find self, despite losing faith in humanity. Three novels in one, the young protagonists celebrate and take refuge in alcohol and lose control in desperate moments of lucidity. However, despite witnessing the darkness of the day, they persevere to teach us that pure principles of liberty are precious, delicate and ultimate privileges. To read Navarro's overture is to entertain a better version of ourselves. You Shall Not Kill offers a pause from daily life to shoulder the enormity of existence. If we are what we read, then reading Julia Navarro's You Shall Not Kill promises an optimistic future because we take the time to face our pasts - past selves, past homes and past mistakes.
