In a post-apocalyptic world, amid the chaos of a climate catastrophe, lies a mysterious convent called the Sacred Sisterhood, where women are deemed “unworthy” unless they are chosen to climb the ranks as an Enlightened. Narrated through stolen scraps of paper and discarded ink, our narrator, an Unworthy herself, reveals the horrors that she has witnessed inside the Sisterhood and questions what truly happens to an Enlightened woman. The intriguing premise of Agustina Bazterrica’s “The Unworthy” is sure to draw in lovers of dystopian or cultish novels, or even fans of Bazterrica’s first translated work, “Tender Is the Flesh.” These readers, however, are sure to be led astray.
As someone who was let down by “Tender Is the Flesh,” despite having heard endless praise, I shouldn’t have been surprised by my lack of interest in reading “The Unworthy.” But I was drawn in by the premise, the plot of which had sounded much more promising than her first work, a mistake that set my expectations far too high once again. Unfortunately, I was proven wrong, and I can now confidently say that I will avoid picking up future translations of Bazterrica’s writing.
“The Unworthy” is composed of various secret journal entries, hence why it immediately jumps into the events at the convent, offering no context or background information. The structure of the story purposely leaves readers in the dark, as the nameless narrator herself is unknowledgeable of the goings-on at the Sisterhood. However, the lack of information and detail does the opposite of its intended purpose. Instead of leaving readers desperate for more, the lack of plot details left me bored and uninterested at every turn. There was not nearly enough intrigue to keep readers hooked for the entirety of the, frankly, already short novel.
It seems that Bazterrica exchanged much needed context for many casual accounts of cruelty. Similar to what we see in “Tender Is the Flesh,” the majority of the novel is filled with descriptions of gruesome acts committed by the characters. The unworthy ones within the Sisterhood are frequently forced by the Superior Sister to “test their faith” by sacrificing their weakest member to endure horrific punishments and torture. By just reading the synopsis of the novel or even the first line — “Someone is screaming in the dark. I hope it’s Lourdes” — you know that you’re signing up for some brutality. But there were points where the inclusion of these gory depictions provided no development for the plot or characters, lending itself to a monotonous storyline.
It has become popular for authors to dump intense, emotional experiences into their writing, in hopes of evoking strong emotions within the reader. This strategy has been known to draw readers in, and I have also fallen victim to this in the past. Before reading “Tender Is the Flesh,” all I had heard about the book was that it was an extremely intense and unsettling story that would stick with you — yet I have not thought about it since. Bazterrica was likely hoping to make this impact once again with “The Unworthy,” but these gruesome descriptions felt like they were just a cheap ploy to gain audience attention.
In addition to shoving extra commentary inside parentheses in an effort to construct a stream-of-consciousness narrative, another gimmick of Bazterrica meant to capture readers’ attention is the occasional strikethrough of particular words, the most common being “woods.” It is obvious that the omission of “woods” is meant to create a sense of uncertainty and mystique: Why can’t the narrator write “woods?” Is there something in the convent’s woods? Are there even woods to begin with or are the women just meant to believe there are? Does this make the narrator unreliable? But after countless pages of Bazterrica making seemingly no progress in discovering any meaning, it’s difficult to still care about finding out. There are even entries that end with unfinished words or sentences, causing confusion and annoyance. Eventually, it starts to seem like Bazterrica will never offer an explanation — and oftentimes this is true. While it’s also the case that, if executed well, obscurity can feel deliberate and impactful, Bazterrica took this strategy too far.
Bazterrica also claims, in the synopsis of “The Unworthy,” that the narrator cannot remember her life before the Sacred Sisterhood. While this concept initially drew me in and had lots of potential, it wasn’t followed through on. Somehow, the moment she begins to tell her tale through blood-stained pages, she can recall her background and all the moments leading up to the present. There is never an explanation as to how these memories were brought back, or what caused their suppression to begin with. If this was meant to invoke curiosity in the reader, it did the opposite; the absence of explanations only created more frustration and disinterest.
Although Bazterrica failed to captivate my attention time and time again, the convent’s newcomer, Lucía, did keep the novel intriguing at times. From the moment she arrives, Lucía is depicted as powerful and unusual. She can walk across burning embers and remain unscathed; she can charm wasps to obey her. The other sisters simultaneously envy and admire Lucía for her deviant behavior, placing her on a pedestal at the Sisterhood and returning to the novel some rare, intriguing mysteries, rather than frustrating ones. Still, explanations for Lucía’s odd abilities are never provided. Given the understanding that the narrator was being brainwashed by a convent, it is understandable that Bazterrica would deliberately omit explanations, but the way in which it was executed ultimately made for an extremely anticlimactic and dull story.
So, even if you are interested in convents and deranged women, “The Unworthy” may not be worth your time — unless unanswered questions and confusion are also your thing.
Daily Arts Contributor Meagan Ismail can be reached at mismai@umich.edu.
