Its English translation is delicate and assured and seems to retain the lyricism and immediacy of the Italian original ... Trina’s inner life and the inexorable rising waters bridge the temporal divide of years and generations, offering the reader a painfully relevant metaphor for the ways in which we must live our lives in a world that grows increasingly unstable.
Through headstrong, opinionated Trina’s narration, author Marco Balzano voices the anger of a people whose story has been overshadowed in history. Though some nuance has been lost in translation from the Italian and the tense shifts confusingly at times, I’m Staying Here reads like a confessional, conveying raw emotion with a forceful, memorable impact ... Balzano writes convincingly of a woman who has been torn apart by the sacrifices and suffering she’s endured, but who stalwartly carries on.
... unadorned prose. Even though we know that the village is doomed, the story keeps its tension to the end, and we share in the villagers’ loss. This is very much a book about a place, and if you have never visited the Alto-Adige you will want to after reading this.
Trina’s matter-of-fact narration maintains a steady tone while recounting decades of inhumane circumstances to a ghostly lost daughter. While the catalog of insults may appear unending to some, Balzano illuminates a war waged upon the South Tyrol even after 'the war' was over ... Balzano recites horrors in a cool, unvarnished tone, cataloging a life upended by war and, worse, by its remembrance.
... quietly devastating ... The writing can be simplistic, but Balzano’s unvarnished approach heightens the poignancy of a story based on real events: after the dam was built following the war, all that’s left of Curon today is a bell tower. This tale of destruction is a blunt reminder of war’s ability to destroy: a village, a way of life, and, in particular, a family.
