Blue Light Hours is a story about a mother and daughter living separately for the first time with the mother in Brazil, and the daughter in the U.S. to study. They keep in touch through Skype calls as they try to adjust to this new chapter in their lives—a change which can propel their lives forward or a change to resist to keep tending to attachments outgrown.

The story is a glimpse into familial codependency and guilt, and it struck my heart as the eldest daughter and—once I graduated—breadwinner of the household. These are the kind of stories I wish to find solace in these days, even if it seems impossible in a situation where one can either be the heartless prick or the pitiful masochist.

The premise of the story caught my interest, but the execution fell short of my expectations. The ‘Sally Rooney’-esque style of writing just did not do it for me. It felt incompatible with the prose, and the plot is almost nonexistent, though this I could forgive for such a short read.

The codependency felt almost unnerving at times, but it can be excused for a daughter in her freshman year, living in a whole new country with no connections. Overall, I don’t remember much about the story, but it got me thinking about the many forms of love, and how the prevailing one in Asian and Hispanic households, is the love that holds tight. I thought about how this is both a remedy and poison, and how we may spend our whole lives submerged in this love, circling between its two forms, holding us back, and in the end, for what?

Reading Blue Light Hours was like holding a mirror to parts of my own life, especially in the way it portrayed the complex relationship between mother and daughter. Although I’ve never been in the exact same situation as the daughter, the way the book captured the experience of growing apart from your mom while trying to reconnect through video calls really resonated with me. The mother’s constant check-ins, the barrage of questions, and the ever-present worry felt so familiar—It was almost like I was reliving my own memories.

The book is structured into spliced sections that swiftly show the progression of the daughter's relationship with her mother. The steady buildup of yearning, emptiness, and guilt was so skillfully written that it felt like my heart was being squeezed tighter with every page. So much so that I literally ended up crying twice while reading. It was just so painfully beautiful.

Overall, Blue Light Hours is a poignant and wonderfully crafted novella that touches on the nuances of long-distance mother-daughter relationships. Despite a few moments where the writing felt a bit too mechanical, the book’s emotional honesty and relatable experiences make it a beautifully honest read. It's the kind of story that stays with you, long after you've closed the final chapter.

Firts of all, thank you so much Grove Atlantic and NetGalley for this beatiful ARC. Out October 15th, 2024.

I just finished reading the book and immediately decided to write a review. The ending almost made me cry, not because anything terrible happened, but because it was full of so much love, hopes, and dreams.

This is a fairly short novel, but still powerfully written, even though at times it can feel like nothing much is happening. It focuses on the mother-daughter relationship and how they are trying to stay in touch for a very long time, being so far away from each other.

Sometimes we can blame technology, social media, etc. for taking away our “real life.” But after reading this novel, I became incredibly grateful to the creators of laptops and online calling because it helped our characters stay connected and be there for each other.

This book is heartwarming, full of immigration experience, and it will make you want to call your family, trust me.

A melodious peek into a mother-daughter relationship frayed by distance, and of the process of reweaving that tapestry with those we love most. Dantas Lobato is able to pack all this in in a lovely short read that flows wonderfully and plays around with who narrates. And all while also encapsulating through her writing how those moments of self-doubt when fully entering adulthood in the college years feel — with the added pressure of being from another country.

This work really resonated with me, having grown up with a single mom and also having been a Latin American international student at a U.S. university, but I'm certain this mellifluous work will enrapture others all the same.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for an advanced digital copy in exchange for my honest review.
“Blue Light Hours” is about a mother and daughter who are only able to talk to each other via Skype for several years after the daughter’s move from Brazil to the US for college.
Exploring themes of cultural differences, womanhood and loneliness, this book was sad at times but ultimately felt like a warm hug.

A wonderful look on the relationship between mothers and daughters, cultures, and connections. This story perfectly encapsulates the loneliness both physically and mentally that comes from growing into womanhood away for the familiar and comfortable and the guilt that can come from it. Both comforting and devastating at times you can't help but connect to daughter, especially in a post Covid world, and the longing, fear, and guilt she carries with her. I took off a star only because I felt a bit lost in how the story was set up a few times, especially towards the end.

It’s been weeks since I finished reading Blue Light Hours, and I’m still grappling with how to write a review that does justice to Bruna’s work. How do you critique something that mirrors your own life so closely?

Blue Light Hours tells the story of a daughter who moves to another country for her studies, leaving her mother behind with only Skype to bridge the distance. Bruna offers us a slim, ‘Sally Rooney-esque’ novel that delves into the questions every mother and daughter have likely pondered: How long can a mother hold on to her child? How do you reassure your mother in the face of inevitable change? How do you show that, despite the distance, you’re still her little girl who needs her guidance?

Unlike the daughter in the novel, who is portrayed as quiet (not shy, but introspective), I am an active and outgoing daughter. I make friends easily and dive into new experiences without hesitation. Yet, whenever it’s time to leave home—whether for college or work—I find myself overwhelmed with emotion. I think about how my absence disrupts our usual routines, and how my mother will cope with the empty side of the bed in the middle of the night.

Putting aside my personal connection to the story, I want to highlight how beautifully the novel addresses cultural differences and the immigrant experience. The second half of the book is my favorite, particularly the shift in writing style that captures the bittersweet reunion between mother and daughter, and the inevitable sorrow of parting once more. The portrayal of the single mother and daughter dynamic is something I’ve longed to see in literature, and Bruna delivers it with poignant realism.

I was also captivated by the evolving symbolism of the blue light throughout the novel, but I’ll leave that for you to discover on your own.

Thank you Bruna & Net Galley for the ARC!

The writing here is crisp and engaging, and I loved the way Dantas Lobato handled the movement of time. The ebbs and flows of seasons and snowstorms in Vermont, the pattern of a school year, and the hours on Skype or entire days away from the video chat were all beautifully evoked. My favorite part, though, was the doubling and tripling she employed in each examination of parenting (the mother having lost her mother, the daughter trying to mother her mother, the drinking together as friends, the way that caretaking is folded around each scene in new ways). Each of those scenes, and particularly the tender examination of caretaking over time at the end of the novel, made me want to linger in the quiet hours of this story.

Blue Light Hours is a quiet, emotional novel that tackles the complicated bond between a mother and daughter as the daughter breaks away to find her own independence and sense of belonging in the world. Exploring the intricacies of immigration and cultural identity, Lobato's writing is both haunting and immersive. Through lyrical prose, readers are able really sink themselves into the complicated dynamics of this family and the relationships existing between them.

This story is set amongst the backdrop of both Brazil and the United States. Lobato does an incredible job at describing these landscapes in a way that is both cathartic and atmospheric, making you feel almost as if you are in a dream. I loved the way this novel meandered and didn't aim to be anything that it wasn't, allowing the "slice of life" styled narrative to take its time and immerse you as it develops.

I am very excited to see where Blue Light Hours takes Lobato in the future as this debut novel is truly a stunning piece of work.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for allowing me the opportunity to read and give advanced praise for this debut.

Blue Light Hours will be published on October 15th, 2024.

This book beautifully explores the bond between mother and daughter while also telling the story of separation of best friends. Blue Light Hours follows a daughter's experiences at a university in the U.S., where she stays connected with her mother in Brazil through Skype.
This novel was so heartbreaking at times. I was particularly struck by its accurate portrayal of the challenges of many international students: adjusting to a new country and culture, dealing with the guilt of experiencing a new life while having left loved ones back home, and the longing to embrace family so far away. The novel's simplicity in writing made it so nice to read, as it fully immersed in the characters' daily lives.
Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for this e-ARC in exchange for my honest review.

First of all, a huge thank you to NetGalley, Grover Atlantic, and Bruna Dantas Lobato for sending me this ARC.

Overall, while I enjoyed the premise of this book and the story it describes I felt like there was something a bit missing from the story. The book describes a mother and daughter dealing with being separated from each other, the mother living in Brazil and the daughter being an international student in America. They connect using Skype and the story details the loneliness and struggles that comes with the distance between them, as well as some heartwarming moments of connection.

What I liked about this book:
I think this book did a really great job on the descriptions of the setting within the book, especially the way the author is able to describe various rooms and houses throughout the book. One of my favorite descriptions was

“My favorite desk, a dark chestnut table with ornate legs, had a hand-crank pencil sharpener mounted on it, which I liked to turn even when I had no pencils to put in it, because it helped me think, as though putting my hands to work would make my brain work too”.

I also enjoyed how the author conveyed how difficult it can be to live far away from your parents and the difficulty of only being able to talk through phone calls, Skype, and post cards. There were many conversations throughout the story that demonstrated how frustrating, deeply sad, and lonely it can feel to have these distant conversations and the yearning that both characters are experiencing for the in-person connection. A few of my favorite quotes from this story that describe this yearning:

“ In her curly handwriting, she wrote, my Sweet sweet daughter.
You gave me a beautiful pond. I want you to have the ocean.”

“What good would it do anyway? To have so much of someone like me?”

What I didn’t like:
The writing style in this book was hard to get used to. The dialog felt Sally Rooney-esque with the lack of quotation marks and a more minimalist plot. There were parts of this book that felt robotic and incomplete, like it was being oversimplified to help the point get across easier. There were sections of the dialogue that felt a bit cold and unrealistic, with other parts that felt like they were being told over and over again throughout the story but in slightly different ways while still being oversimplified. This minimalist style left me wanting more from the plot of the book, especially since the blurb of the book was so enticing.

A quiet, mundane story about a Brazilian girl and her mother who have to adjust to their new normal, where the daughter is away in New York for college and the mother is an empty nester. As the story solely focuses on this plotline, the progression is slower and subtle. The mundanity is sweet at times, sleepy at others.

Thanks to Netgalley and Grove Press for providing me with the e-ARC/DRC in exchange for an honest review.

What a wonderful surprise! In Bruna Dantas Lobato's debut novel, Blue Light Hours, we witness the challenges faced by a mother and daughter living continents apart for the first time as the daughter moved from Brazil to America for higher education. Both grapple with this major change and how it alters their sense of self. Surrendering to this journey beyond time and space, the daughter and mother rediscover their identities amidst blue screens, audio delays, and pixelated images. Becoming a daughter again, becoming a mother again. Even though they are apart, their souls remain connected.

Grappling with subjects that could easily become over-sentimental, Blue Light Hours is a quiet and contemplative meditation on loss, loneliness, desperation for connection, independence, love and hope. I truly appreciate the author's concise writing, which beautifully weaves in lovely details and thoughtful connections.

I started reading this novel at 3 am at the 24-hour Haneda Airport café, legitimately jet-lagged and already missing my family and friends. It reminded me so much of my experience when I moved from Portugal to Japan almost eight years ago. While I was lucky to secure a great job opportunity and have incredible new experiences, there were moments when I felt adrift and isolated on the opposite side of the world. The ongoing struggle between staying and departing will never find a peaceful resolution within me. Maybe Saudade is not just a word but a way of living.

Many thanks to Grove Atlantic | Grove Press, Black Cat and Bruna Dantas Lobato who kindly provided me with an advanced reading copy via NetGalley.

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.