I'm giving The Words that Remain a five-star rating, not because it's a model of literary perfection, but because of all it attempts to do—and generally does capably—in terms of content and style. The premise here is straightforward, but also remarkable. Raímundo and Cícero grow up as best friends in a somewhat isolated Brazilian village. Both work hard to support their families' economic survival, but Cícero is able to attend school and become literate, while Raímundo isn't.

The boys become lovers in a way that is a natural extension of their friendship, but of course the relationship is considered by others as anything but natural. Their families separate them. Raímundo is subjected to daily beatings by his father. On the day that Raímundo's mother tells him he must leave the village, he receives a letter from Cícero, passed on by way of Raímundo's sister. Raímundo sets out to make a new life for himself, taking along the letter that he is unable to read and that he will not allow anyone else to read to him.

The book alternates between an omniscient narration and narration by Raímundo. It jumps back and forth in time. It alternates between standard prose and a rushing voice piling up detail rapidly without necessarily making clear whose thoughts are being represented.

We watch Raímundo wrestle with his own homophobia as he carves out a place for himself in the world. Late in life, he enrolls in an adult literacy course with the goal of being able—finally—to read Cícero's letter. Having acknowledged his homosexuality, Raímundo has to find new reserves of courage to acknowledge his illiteracy.

The changes in narrative style worked unevenly. At times style seemed perfectly suited to narrative. At other times, the simplicity or rushed jumble of the novel's language worked against the novel's narrative flow, making the simple unnecessarily complex and the complex frustratingly simple.

Ultimately, what makes this novel powerful are the way in which every character has clear prejudices—there's no 100% "good guy"—and the exploration of what literacy makes possible (or illiteracy makes impossible). The Words that Remain offers a thought-provoking, surprising read. Those who appreciate literature that requires wrestling with difficult issues—and, to a lesser degree, difficult style—will find The Words that Remain a treasure.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Edelweiss+; the opinions are my own. ( )

“Se a carta que um dia eu escrevi chegar em suas mãos, não abra, e guarde essa ilusão junto ao coração”, já dizia o animê perdido dos anos noventa ( )