Brazilian writer wrote a book about a girl from Belarus

Initially, the town is not named — it's just "a town near the river," where a girl lives in an old house on a narrow street. But gradually, it becomes clear that this is Belarus, and the town's name emerges — Druya. The characters leave Belarus, return to Belarus, and one of the most dramatic and plot-important events occurs on the road between Braslau and Druya, which the characters had to overcome on foot. Do we have many such children's books from Belarusian authors as this one from a Brazilian?

The main question for the author: why Belarus? There will be no precise answer in the book, but Belarus is not the only exotic place where events occur. For example, the book will feature Kodiak Island in Alaska Bay, Tonga in Polynesia, the Tristan da Cunha islands, and the world's most remote settlement with the romantic name Edinburgh of the Seven Seas. I assume the author tried to choose the most remote and exotic points on the planet. So, for someone, we are an exotic place like islands in the Pacific Ocean.

But the author didn't just point a finger at the map; she studied the places she writes about. Belarus here is not conditional, but with specific coordinates.

"Berwald grew up in Belarus, raised by three very dear aunts. They were not sisters by blood; they were adopted as very young children and came from three different Belarusian cities. And although they were daughters of different parents, they were born on the same day and at the same time, always wore green dresses of the same style, and were incredibly similar to each other, almost identical. Their names were Helena, Tatsiana, and Yadviha, and they were involved in important public affairs. Helena was a midwife, Tatsiana — an advisor, and Yadviha took care of the cemetery garden."

Names and places in the book almost always don't appear immediately; the author makes a game out of it. The name of the main character — that very girl from Belarus — will become known only at the end, and it will be a surprise, believe me.

The games with names are well conveyed in the Belarusian translation. For example, the three aunts will be called by the collective name HeTaYa, because they were very similar and always together, so people got tired of trying to distinguish them, so they simply combined the first syllables of the names Helena, Tatsiana, and Yadviha — resulting in HeTaYa. Clever village nicknames are a well-known tradition, and here the translator managed it precisely.

But not only Belarus as the starting point of events makes this Brazilian book unusual. And not only the games with names. Blandina Franco herself actively participates in the story. Her voice is strong; she constantly addresses the reader directly, teases and provokes them. In short, she doesn't stand on ceremony.

"What now? You, dear readers, who have nothing to do with this story, can you tell me what the hell Berwald is going to travel unknown where with a girl, a ferret, and an almost four-meter Kodiak bear?"

Such authorial behavior — repetitions, justifications, mockery — can either amuse or irritate. It's hard to remain indifferent here. It's clear that the author does this intentionally — to create a dynamic and somewhat chaotic narrative. She constantly rushes herself:

"Tonga is an incredibly beautiful country, and I think we'll return here later to tell other stories. But now time is running out, and we need to hurry to Alaska so as not to be late for the meeting with Bartholomew."

This is a story with a taste of magical realism, characteristic of Latin American literature. Therefore, in "The Girl from Belarus," in addition to ordinary people (though how ordinary are they?!), there will also be spirits, encounters with the deceased, people who can speak the language of animals, and incredible movements across the entire globe. Therefore, I believe it will be interesting to read this book together with children, to look at it through children's eyes and not get irritated, but to enjoy the unpredictability and unbridled imagination of the author. Blandina Franco maintains an ironic tone to the end and will finish even more playfully than she started:

"Oh, hell! This too?! A long journey to Alaska, sixteen chapters, only for everyone to die in the end?! But not everyone died! Ines died on the road between Braslau and Druya. Bartholomew died during the journey in search of Ines... Cicero, the very platypus who swallowed the paper in chapter four, also died. But platypuses generally don't live longer than fifteen years, so it was only a matter of time..."

Blandina Franco has been writing children's books for about 20 years. Together with her husband and illustrator José Carlos Lollo, they have created more than 50 books and received several important Brazilian and international awards, both literary and artistic. The illustrations in the Belarusian edition of "The Girl from Belarus" are authentic, authored by José Carlos Lollo.

Blandina Franco. The Girl from Belarus. — Minsk: Papury, 2025

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