It's a road novel without a road. A married couple take separate journeys from their mountain home. The wife leaves first out of frustration due to an ongoing drought and the hope she would find a trace of her missing son. The husband, at first refuses to leave, but soon realises he needs to be with his wife. He departs with a wagon, carrying the bones of his parents, and pulled by a donkey with great character.
Along the way they meet kind and not so kind people. The ranch the wife arrives at is home to a bizarre family where tragedy awaits.
The book explores inequality, family ties, hope and the folly of people. I found the writing to be engrossing.

Although short, this is one of the most powerful and memorable books I’ve read in some decades. It’s a challenging read, filled with heartbreak, but there’s also hope and Mariana Travacio has captured two indomitable spirits in husband and wife who set off in search of a better life. The stark drought ridden Argentina landscape is well depicted and Lina’s loneliness as she set off on foot in search of her son was almost palpable. Her husband realises he needs to be with her and sets off later, on a donkey with ancestral bones in a sack. The imagery is haunting and incredibly moving. As a British reader, I felt drawn into a world that, sadly, for many, is real. It was a privilege to have that insight and the translation feels sympathetic. I read part of this through tears; it’s profound, moving and incredibly well written. It’s a book I’ll read again with closer attention to some of the detail I may have missed whilst feeling sorrow for the tragedies and travesties that were experienced and witnessed. It’s an amazing story and one that deserves a wide audience.
My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for an early review copy.

This novella was a short but impactful story about an impoverished Argentinian family's difficult choice to leave their drought-stricken homeland in search of opportunity. The story is told in brief snippets from multiple points of view. The straightforward and unflourished writing style underscores the severity of the landscape and the suffering of its characters as they endure and persevere through unspeakable hardship. Recommend for readers who enjoy reflective and challenging narratives that focus on character development.

Poetic, harrowing, and quietly powerful, All That Dies in April is a haunting tale of survival, separation, and longing.

Set high above the Argentine pampas, the stark and desolate landscape mirrors the emotional terrain of a family fractured by poverty and drought.

Lina’s decision to leave her home in search of her son and a better future sets a slow-burning journey into motion, while her husband Relicario follows with ancestral bones in tow, bound by memory and tradition. Their parallel paths reveal the brutal consequences of displacement and the quiet strength of hope.

Travacio’s prose is spare yet lyrical, each sentence infused with a quiet tension. Despite the bleakness, there is beauty in the writing and resilience in the characters. This is not a story of grand gestures, but of quiet persistence in the face of despair.

A slim yet intense read that lingers long after the final page.

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It was a rather propulsive read that kept me glued to the pages until the very end. However, the ending came far too quickly; it took me only a couple of hours to finish the novel. There are hints of the desolation and existential dread found in the recent wave of writing by women from Latin America, but I was left wanting more. I enjoyed it immensely while it lasted, but I was faced with the last page too soon for me to develop a proper rapport with the book.