3.5 Stars
This novella is a translation from Estonian.
Liine has left an emotionally abusive 14-year relationship with Tarmo, a man 15 years her senior. She retreats to Tsõriksoo, a virtually abandoned farmstead owned by her family. She spends the summer of self-imposed isolation doing physical work around the property as she reflects on her relationship with Tarmo and her mother.
The book focuses on Liine’s inner life. She experiences a gamut of emotions: grief, self-blame, fear, bitterness, doubt, and anger. She knows she needs time to come to terms with the toll her past has taken on her self-worth and to rebuild her life: “I need to stay beneath the soil, in the ground, here in a safe remote place until I find the strength within me to sprout new shoots.” Yet she worries about what will emerge: “I want to shake my body, throw off the pressure that’s accumulated on my skin, scrub off all the muck. What will be left?” There are steps forward but her journey of growth and healing is not easy or straightforward: “I’m building a new shell, but how long will it take? I’m crackling, I’m expanding, and I’m afraid of getting hurt.”
Though the focus is on Liine, there are repeated references to threats from the outside world. The farm is located next to an ever-expanding NATO base, on the border of Russia, so almost daily she is exposed to the sounds of military exercises suggesting a conflict is looming. There are also several references to climate change and the heatwaves and drought Estonia is already experiencing. All of this creates a claustrophobic atmosphere.
The title is perfect. Liine describes living on the cut line: “I’m swaying on the cut line that separates my previous life from what’s to come.” She wants to linger on the fine line between the past and the future, hoping that she will eventually step firmly into the future. There is hope as, at the end of the summer, she states, “My legs are strong from the groundwork, and I’m not easily bowed.” The title also suggests creating new boundaries as she takes up “more and more space.”
There is no action-packed plot. Very little actually happens. It is a slow-paced, detailed examination of the emotional aftermath of a woman’s escaping a toxic relationship. Though bleak and repetitive, it seems authentic. The ending is predictable.
The prose is lyrical: “Doubt is like a cobweb – very delicate, but when you touch it, it clings to your fingers. Gray and sticky.” The descriptions of nature are especially poetic: “At night I walk to the edge of the forest. The sky’s still glowing the color of sunset, but the forest’s already almost dark. The mosquitoes whine. . . . The shadows of the trees are long and a little lonely. . . . I rustle through the scrub, dry branches crackling under my feet.”
This book is not for everyone. Those who enjoy introspective books will find much to admire.
Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.
