one of the best books I read this year, what a pleasant surprise!
the story was so well written and really involved us in the "diary-like style of writing" of our FMC and her mom. Their relationship is so relatable and complex and I also liked to read about her integration in a new country. Everything felt very real but beautifully written as well.

A heartfelt slice-of-life book about a long distance relationship between a young woman attending university in the US and her mother in Brazil. This was a quiet novel that came together nicely, particularly at the end. My rating is closer to 3.5. There was nothing inherently wrong with this book and I have no explicit reason for taking off 1.5 stars, it just isn't as memorable as other books I consider to be 5 stars. Overall a gentle and lovely read that I would recommend to some friends depending on their taste.

A contemplative novel about a mother-daughter relationship living continents apart for the first time as the daughter moved from Brazil to America for higher studies.

In the inital days the daughter tries to keep a record of new experiences, abandoning the idea soon as she found it both insufficient and too exhaustive. To her "no place can be reduced to a catalogue of food, plants and room". Yet as days passed we find these are the details that causes to separate her life left back home from this new place that fails to provide her belongingness. The language, the weather, the trees, the architecture, the snow, the sounds, the smell, the crockeries, the labels on fancy food packets, the sunset, all seem to demand from her to forsake her life before to able to feel belonged in the new land.

Slowly the rountine of the daughter alters from the one left back home she used to share with her mother as she gets accustomed to her new life. A new ritual took place of consistency as they video called each night, the only time now she gets to speak her own language, listen to her voice she has grown up with.

The language used in the book is in simple everyday style that tugs closer to reality. The story makes you ruminate on the daily activities one shares with their parents or children. It makes you question who you are without them. Makes you map the distance between growing up and growing old.

This is lovely book featuring the musings of an international student experiencing being away from her mother for the first time, adjusting to a new culture, and the conflicting thoughts on which place feels like 'home'.

Whilst I couldn't relate to the story personally, this book gave an interesting insight into the experiences of international students attempting to keep in contact with families who have little understanding of what their daily experiences are like. Whilst at some points the writing felt quite simple and I wished it delved deeper into some thoughts of the main characters, I did particularly enjoy the conversations between the student and her mother discussing what had happened in the day, and related to the student's perspective that it was difficult to describe that you're not always living the magical life seen in films and are often just moving between the library and home.

Thank you to Grove Atlantic for giving me access to the ARC!

No one teaches you how to be the daughter of a single mother. No one tells you that inhabiting that role is like walking on a thin rope every day of your life. It's a constant negotiation, an on-going debate between your desires to be a 'free' individual, to belong to yourself, and your love and duty towards your mother, especially one who loves you and doesn't really limit your longing to fly, even and especially when that means that you'll be leaving her behind. No one prepares you for these things and I think life of such individuals go on in the pursuit of that balance, or at least some semblance of it.

'Blue Light Hours' is a novella that traces this continous negotiation between a mother and her daughter, as well as within each of them– the conflict that carries them through years spent apart when the daughter goes away to study in a land across oceans where the ground is stable but the hearts of those that come here from lands far away are always restless.

It is as much the never-ending effort on the part of the two to keep up the illusion of the warmth of each other's presence like the daughter does by switching on the lamp with the blue light and trying to extend the day just a bit longer, as it is also the twilight zone, the liminal space that the two occupy between staying back and going away, never arriving yet never entirely departing either. It is about coming home yet never fully so, and of pixilated screens and the memories of bodies yet not shrunken with ageing.

This was a particularly emotional read for me because I know what it is like to be the daughter of a single mother, and I know no matter how much my therapist tries to make sense of my dilemma by saying that all parents go through an Empty Nest Syndrome when their children grow up and move out, this tug of war between arriving and leaving isn't something that will ever come to a peaceful resolution in my heart. This book was the material equivalent of all that I feel and I wish I could just hug it close to my heart every time I felt lost in this journey.

I've seen a lot of reviews for this book that begin with why it was so relatable to them, and I think that's interesting. There were a number of elements of this that I found relatable, and I have experiences (both others' and my own) that I could layer atop the narrative as context. But I think the most interesting parts of this book were where I didn't find them relatable. I like books that meditate on identity. By its nature, it's something that is complex, and very personal, and I think that's what draws people to linking their identity to what they read. I understand that impulse too. Previous drafts of this review began musing on my own Brasilian identity, thinking about my mother's experience moving away for University, hoping my brother's experience of the same will be better. But I think viewing this slim little book only through our own lens reduces what it has to say.

Dantas Lobato tells what I can only imagine is a semi-autobiographical story of a girl moving to the United States for University, communicating to her mother far away in Natal only through the blue-tinged light of her laptop screen, fuzzy Skype audio and softly pixelated video keeping them apart. I find it within a category shared by Americanah, stories of women moving away from home, finding identity elsewhere, reshaping who they are, braiding their link back home. They're very very different books stylistically, and I find the comparison perhaps flatters Blue Light Hours slightly more than Americanah, but it is there nonetheless. I like the way Dantas Lobato considers identity. The daughter changes the way she writes, reshapes her consonants within her mouth to create sounds her mother doesn't understand. There is quietly incisive commentary on class too - I find her mention of a student being surprised she's never visited Rio when he is able to vacation there to be especially memorable. She can't even go home, let alone go to visit Rio. These experiences here are, importantly, not ones that I have had, and that was what made it interesting.

Identity is explored through the central mother-daughter relationship too. The way they struggle with finding their footing in their own roles, in each others' roles, I found particularly affecting. In many ways, the writing style is sort of detached and emotionless, and so it shocked me to the extent it still had the power to make me cry while reading it. In the end, I'm still not 100% sure where I land on the writing style. It reminded me somewhat of The Vegetarian in its sparing and controlled use of language. The prose is very open; there is a complete lack of quotation marks which leave empty space on the page (and I can't help but wonder if that also exists to link it back in a small way to Portuguese - I don't think I've ever read a book in Portuguese that uses quotation marks). The detachment works very well with the theme of the story - it makes the daughters' life outside of the blue laptop screen seem inconsequential, tissue paper that tears easily on examination. But, equally, sometimes I just really wished there was a little bit more feeling. Because that's the other reason that I come back to on why people bring up their own experiences so much when reviewing this book. There's a lot of space in the writing, and if you're able to fill it in with your own life then it becomes a very powerful book. But it creates a little bit of a Bring Your Own Emotions feeling. Without being able to colour in the pictures yourself, I'm not sure if the book would be as affecting as I found it to be.

My other complaint is largely in the structure of the book - I found the last two sections to be a little confusing compared to the rest. Switching to third person worked when we focused on the Mother, but I really wished it has switched back for the final section so I could see it from inside the daughter's head. I also just broadly wasn't sure if the decision to cut it up into sections like that had a reason behind it that made it more powerful than if it had been told in the same way as the rest of the book. I read Romantic Comedy recently, which had really very starkly different sections in a way I didn't enjoy, and this is nowhere near as bad, but perhaps I'm now slightly oversensitive to examining why that stylistic choice is made in books. Overall, I think this is a good expansion on Dantas Lobato's original Snowstorm that forms the central core piece of the narrative. She successfully expands it outwards in both directions, creating a bigger overarcing narrative befitting of a full novella, without sacrificing the quiet contemplitude that made the original so good. I think there are a few areas where it could be improved, but I'm very forgiving of debuts; the core is certainly there, and it barely needs the forgiveness I'm giving it.

“Blue Light Hours” by Bruna Dantas Lobato is a poignant exploration of the bond between a mother and daughter stretched across continents. The novel begins in a small dorm room at a liberal arts college in Vermont, where a young woman, miles away from her home in northeastern Brazil, maintains a connection with her mother through daily Skype calls. As they navigate their new routines and environments, the simple question “What’s the news?” becomes a ritual that preserves their intimacy. The daughter grapples with the academic and social challenges of her new life, while the mother faces her struggles, including health concerns and the fear of losing her daughter to a new world.

Despite the physical distance, their conversations reveal a deep emotional connection, highlighted by shared moments like drinking whiskey together and watching each other fall asleep. Lobato’s prose, reminiscent of Sigrid Nunez and Katie Kitamura, captures the delicate nuances of their relationship. The novel beautifully describes the daughter’s experiences in New England, from the vibrant colors of autumn to the isolating snows of winter. It contrasts them with the mother’s life back in Brazil. This book resonates deeply with anyone who has experienced the challenges of living abroad.

It eloquently portrays the loneliness and personal growth of such a transition. The mother and daughter’s shared sense of loss and their attempts to bridge the gap between them are depicted with sensitivity and insight. “Blue Light Hours” is not just a story about studying abroad; it is a touching narrative about the sacrifices and freedoms of leaving home. It highlights the resilience required to maintain familial bonds across great distances and the profound impact of cultural and linguistic differences on personal identity. This novel is a must-read for those seeking a reflective and heartfelt exploration of love, loneliness, and the journey toward self-discovery.

The book "Blue Light Hours" is not about a major crisis or a major event, but a very unique moment in the relationship between mother and daughter: when the girl moves away to study in another country. There is cultural change, the difference between Brazil and the United States, but the focus is on family relationships, and treated in an indirect, tangential way.

The climax I expected didn't occur, but the story sounds so real, that I really imagined it was the life of the author Bruna Dantas Lobato, who we know is a Brazilian living in the United States - but from the Acknowledgment part, it's possible to see that she may have been inspired by her own life, but it's not exactly the same. Isn't that one of the talents of the best writers: transporting us into a fake universe?

Thank you Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for the opportunity to review this book.

A beautiful story about the relationship of a mother and daughter separated by geography and opportunity. I enjoyed the author’s focus on the small details of every day life and how it causes tiny fractures in our relationships even when we cling to each other. As a first generation college graduate I related to many of the ways the MC tried to not change but in the end she couldn’t resist it. I look forward to reading Bruno’s future writing. She is a gifted writer!

Publication Date: October 15, 2024

Sweet story about a Portuguese student who travels to America for university and the relationship she has with her mother. The late night Skypes as the daughter creates a new life for herself and the mother who feels simultaneously left behind and so proud. I felt this book needed a bit more meat to chew on. Kept waiting for a left turn but never got one.

Blue Light Hours by Bruna Dantas Lobato is a welcome addition to what I lovingly call quiet books–books that are more introspective, books that highlight the mundane and the little things that typically go unnoticed, books where not a lot happens but really, you can feel something happening. Blue Light Hours is that kind of book.

We have a daughter, who moves from Brazil to attend a liberal arts college in Vermont. Leaving the only home she’s ever known, she now has to navigate this new life, new place, new language, new people. But home is never far from her mind. In the evenings she Skypes with her mother, and through a small screen and spotty internet connection, mother and daughter update each other about their lives. Both grapple with this huge change and how it shifts their identities. A daughter far away and growing into a new person, a mother alone at home facing a daughter-shaped gap that she must now fill with something else.

Although their paths seem to diverge, they never lose the deep connection and love that they have for each other.

Dantas Lobato’s writing here is quite pared down, which might feel cold to some, but to me, goes perfectly with the daughter’s feeling of being a stranger in a new land. She is simultaneously grateful for the opportunity to study abroad, but also feeling homesick and unmoored from everything she has ever known. There are passages in the book where mother and daughter talk about how they now only exist on a screen. It’s a running joke between them that they are hosts to their own show, reporting the news of their lives. And isn’t that both happy and sad?

The novel is full of mundane observations, simple little things that don’t really add up to something in the grand scheme of things, but in loneliness take on a poignant light. Piles of dirty laundry shoved out of view from the computer screen. Watching the snow fall outside the window. Seeing a familiar vase in the background of a Skype call. Giving the mother a dorm tour through the laptop, then asking to be shown the view from outside the window back at home. The blue light from the laptop screen while waiting on a video call late at night.Making a cup to tea to keep you company. These moments reminded me of passages from Beautiful World, Where Are You. Think Sally Rooney writing about the light in Simon’s sad, empty apartment, with his dirty dishes in the sink, which is then contrasted at the end of the chapter when Eileen comes over and the apartment feels brighter. These still life scenes feel like a visual treat, as well as a deceptively simple way to portray that life keeps happening no matter what.

Literary nerds who love the discourse of why the curtains are blue would love the title Blue Light Hours and how blue light appears throughout the novel. I get it, I love it too. Blue light, often considered clinical, cold, or lonely, in this novel becomes the color of warmth, of security, of a deep and enduring connection. Of home.

I was at a cafe when I started reading this book, and in the table next to me was a mother and daughter spending some quality time together. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but there were tears shed, and lots of laughter in the end. This must be the type of relationship the mother and daughter had in the book, before she left study abroad. This was the type of relationship my mother and I had before I too, moved away for college. I knew that this book would be a very emotional read for me because of how much I could relate to the daughter. And my goodness, this book made me feel so seen.

This is for the daughters of single mothers. For daughters with a complicated/okay/good relationship with their mothers. For daughters who view their mothers as friends. For the daughters who moved away, but still hold home in their hearts.

I’m so excited for this book to come out, and for more people to read it. Mark your calendars for the Blue Light Hours release day on October 15.
Many, many thanks to NetGalley, Grove Atlantic, and Bruna Dantas Lobato for the ARC!

this debut novel explores the relationship between a mother and daughter when the daughter moves to a different country to study. the mother is left home alone, and skype becomes their only means of communication.

reading a book about the mundane aspects of life really resonates with me, especially when the writing has a melancholic tone, and this book is one of those. it portrays the relationship between a mother and daughter who are thousands of miles apart. because of their situation, the blue light from the screen becomes a significant element in their relationship.

the real question here is, as a mother, how long will you hold your child's hand? how long will you continue to be afraid to let them go? until when will you fight with your feelings that are torn between wanting them to fly and explore the world and wanting to keep them in your arms so they will be safe in the cruel world? annd lastly, are you willing to accept the fact that as your child gets older, they are not only physically changing but also their mind and soul?

on the other side, as a daughter, as a loving and understanding daughter, how long can you consistently be there for your mother? you don't want her to be disappointed by the changes you are facing. you want her to be proud of you because you are becoming the person you want to be while still remaining the daughter your mother used to know.

they are both trying.

as a daughter who has now lost her mother, I wish I had been like the daughter in this book. i didn't move to a different country, but I once wanted to fly and leave them behind. now, I'm regretting it because as I was starting to get away, she was gone. i just wish i had been more patient and appreciated the slow flow of my life so i could have spent more time with her. and now, as a mother, i understand her—the fear of losing your child, both literally and metaphorically.

A solid 5 stars. I loved this!

My heart hurts and feel so melancholic about countries and cities I don't even know after finishing this.

This short but satisfying novel follows a young Brazilian woman’s first year in America, a continent away from her lonely mother, and the relationship they build over Skype calls across borders. Although this book doesn't necessarily have the most plot the vibes are delicious and everything I wanted from a novel (very aptly) named Blue Light Hours! The lighting and atmosphere of this book plays a really large part, almost as if it's a character itself which made you feel like you were there with the mother and daughter.

I really liked the almost outside-looking-in vibe of the novel, you get to hear thoughts and musings from the characters but a with a few degrees of separation much like the two characters are separated. I did love hearing about the daughters life in America and her friends and college life were well fleshed out here, but it was a very pleasant surprise when it switched POV's for the last. bit of the book.

This book is so melancholic and so descriptive of growing up and realising your mum is also just a girl and doesn't know everything or have everything sorted like you assume her too. It made me miss my mum and want to talk to her about her life and how she sees the world, and how it feels to have a daughter grow up in front of her eyes without knowing the depth of the life shes living.

Loved the glimpses into language barriers, cultural barriers, the massive undertaking that is immigrating to a new country and all the pressures that come along with that, being an only child and the expectations that surround that, the shifting relationship of you needing to take care of your mother rather than her taking care of you.

I loved the ponderous tone of this book, the way every small thing is romantisiced like the way the light creeps into the room of both the mum and the daughter is so romantic and important. It poetic and shows how every little thing we do holds so much importance and can and should be romantisced. It's so full of longing, and guilt and love and the feeling of looking back and feeling like we've suddenly grown up and can look behind us at all the decisions we've made along the way that make us who we are. I'm an absolute sucker for vibes and a lyrical prose so if you're also into that I think you'll love this.

Blue Light Hours was the perfect length. It felt meandering but hopeful but also sharp and to the point.

“Blue Light Hours” is a quick and heartwarming story about a Brazilian woman navigating her first year in America, while staying connected to her mother in Brazil through Skype calls. It delves into the themes of loneliness and adulthood, and the evolving mother-daughter relationship all held promise.

I wanted to like this book– I was excited about the premise of the book. I wouldn’t say this is a bad book; it just lacked depth. While I enjoy reading mundane narratives and melancholic slices of life, this book felt flat. The characters, despite the focus on their connection, felt one-dimensional. The dialogue between them that was intended to be natural came across as forced rather than authentic. The complexity of mother-daughter relationships and the inner turmoils of the characters could have been explored better. While the prompts did spark a reflection on the importance of the small moments– the mundane– in our lives, it didn’t deliver the emotional depth I wanted. Nevertheless, I am still excited to explore more books written by the author in the future. This book will be out on October 15, 2024. Thanks to Netgalley, Grove Atlantic, and the author for the advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review!

Link to Review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6655554296
Also posted on my Instagram story.

A beautiful, "quiet" debut that charts the relationship of a mother and her daughter, miles away, through video calls. There was something so melancholic, aching, to the prose here, Lobato rendering the mother/daughter dynamic so well, so vividly on the page. Thanks to the publisher for the e-galley.

Solid four star review for this concise novel following a daughter leaving her single mother behind in Brazil to go study in Vermont, USA
Written in three parts we start with the daughter, who feels so keenly what and who she's left behind, focusing on studies, on making sure she won't be sent back, on comforting her mother via daily Skype calls.
But for anyone who's been anywhere once, it will be clear that one cannot live in the past. The daughter makes friends, not too many being a foreigner with a funny accent and all, and slowly starts living.
Part two is the mother, all of a sudden alone -for the first time in her life she lives alone- and for a while without purpose. Days are long and filled with waiting for the call. At some point though she starts adjusting.
The last part is 5 years from the initial departure. The mother is visiting the daughter in NYC. Will they still know each other?

So very little action, one could argue. The beauty of the book is how it implies, and shows, a letting go. A natural process of a child growing up, of a parent letting go, but extrapolated to a child moving abroad, a clean cut. Lots of the initial denial and the following growth, adjusting and acceptance is shown through what is left out, small sentences referring to a life lived in between calls. All very cleverly revealing.

As a recovering expat, with some postings under her belt, I felt this book keenly. The first time my mother, in the throws of Alzheimers, wandered off during our call. Also it made me marvel at how full of trust my parents let me go.

A mother and daughter separated by thousands of miles connect over Skype to share the mundanity and the excitement of their lives.

I can’t speak personally to attending school in a different country but the experience written here certainly felt authentic. I enjoyed certain aspects of the mother-daughter relationship such as the clear comfortability the two women feel with each other.

My qualms with this story are few but large, I suppose. One being that the writing seemed to glaze over a lot in the story and it made for abrupt and confusing time jumps in the narrative. Two being that while the words were there, the feelings and emotional connection were not. The premise promises an intimate story and while it was there at times it mostly felt detached, never truly allowing the reader in to the hearts of these two women.

I understand the point of this book and while it certainly has the potential to elicit many feelings—hopelessness, longing, anxiety, love—in the end, it only left me wanting more.

Thank you Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for the digital copy in exchange for an honest review. Available 10/15/2024!

Heartwarming and melancholic at the same time, this novel isn't an extraordinary multifaceted work that makes your brain go "poof." Instead it's a quiet story dealing with things that might seem mundane to others, but occasionally these makes the book feel more authentic. Coupled with the fact that the book is very relatable to me, I think my enjoyment was much greater.
4.25/5

Lobato’s prose has the same hazy, quiet hue of the twilight hour depicted in the novel’s title. It’s a sad tenderness that coils around your eyes, mouth, limbs as you go on reading inevitably reminiscing on your own distant loves.
I deeply appreciated the softness and calmness that transpired from her prose, the feeling of mute collectedness heightened the description of snowy Vermont to the point of creating a very strong sensation of being present in that landscape; it also made me more attuned to the feelings of fuzzy disorientation that the protagonist was feeling, as she left behind the radically different world of Brazil.
The story in on itself has the delicate tenderness of fresh falling snow, more than a few times I ached at the narration of guilt the protagonist felt in enjoying her time knowing she was leaving her mother behind, at the happiness she was feeling in creating a future so far away from a parent she knew needed her.
The relationship between mother and daughter was also done very nicely as both sides were explored deeply and authentically, both women had their flaws, needs, fears, fragilities; it was quite emotional to read how the mother was insecure in her role, how she longed to still be a daughter in the presence of her own mother.
This novel is a novel of circularities, of deep roots and new constellations in foreign skies ultimately unearthing the love of two women in all its tragic tenderness.
I myself have been living in another country, far away from my family and I saw my own reflection in many passages of this, maybe this is the reason why I loved it so much, why through it I felt a sort of expiation for my own shortcomings as a distant daughter, but also saw how resilient love is.
Overall, I truly enjoyed the story, its cozy details of college life and demure colours, but I also enjoyed it technically speaking in regards to the prose, therefore I will gladly read any next release from the author.

Thank you NetGalley for the opportunity to read this! Being Brazilian myself, this was a cozy read that connected me to my own culture. I would recommend!