How hard it is to leave, how hard it is to stay

In 2023, when she won the National Book Award for best translation of Stênio Gardel's The Word That Remains, writer Bruna Dantas Lobato was already working on Blue Hours, her first novel. Although she had previously translated works such as Jeferson Tenório's The Other Side of the Skin and Caio Fernando Abreu's Moldy Strawberries into English, it was with this prestigious award that her name emerged in literary circles.

It was no surprise, therefore, that his debut, Horas Azuis, was very well received. It was launched at the Festa Literária Internacional de Paraty (Flip) and has since been receiving the praise it deserves.

Born to a single mother in rural Paraíba and raised in Natal, Rio Grande do Norte, Bruna told CartaCapital shortly after winning the National Book Award that she began teaching herself English. As a teenager, she won the highly competitive scholarship from the U.S. State Department's Young Ambassadors Program.

There, the royal path began to be paved for the brilliant young woman who would become a scholarship student at a North American university. Blue Hours, the novel, begins precisely with the narrator's arrival on a campus.

Right away, her roommates' bedroom, "full of itself, overflowing with prints, shapes, memories," is contrasted with her own, with its white sheets and a solitary navy blue lampshade. And the images of American teen movies are contrasted with the recurring scene of a daughter who, when not in the library, among the bookshelves, is in her room, on Skype, talking to her mother.

Blue Hours. Bruna Dantas Lobato. Companhia das Letras (144 pages, R$79.90)

The narrative centers on the relationship between a mother and daughter separated by 6,500 kilometers of physical distance and an immeasurable distance of experiences. Through the Skype window, one sees the very blue sky and the very bright sun. Through the bedroom window, the pine trees nearby, the dry leaves on the ground, the snowflakes falling.

The book is divided into three parts: daughter, mother, and reunion. Each has its own rhythm and tone. It's as if the narrative flows from a delicate tension, built on the anticipation of the future, to a flirtation with coming-of-age romances.

"What would be the sum of these small changes?" the young woman asks herself, faced with what the author will at one point call "two lives"—the book's English title, in fact. "Who and what was I becoming, and so easily?"

Whether listening to her mother's warm voice or writing, Bruna seems to seek to give shape to the memories of who she was in order to also understand who she has become. In this pendulum, the narrative of Horas Azuis not only lulls us but also makes us see ourselves reflected in it. •

Published in issue no. 1384 of CartaCapital , on October 22, 2025.

This text appears in the print edition of CartaCapital under the title 'How difficult it is to leave, how difficult it is to stay'