Although stillbirth is a common event and severely impacts those affected by this loss, it is rarely discussed. Similarly, it is not often addressed in literature. In her novel Tunes for Dancing Bears, author Irena Karafilly examines the impact of stillbirth on a family, conveying its reality with accuracy and profound sensitivity.
Irena Karafilly examines the impact of stillbirth on a family, conveying its reality with accuracy and profound sensitivity.
The writing is not always gentle, for stillbirth is brutal, raw, and unexpected. Lydia and John, who had an abortion early in their relationship and suffered a miscarriage not long after they were married, have now had a full-term pregnancy. The infant is delivered, and the mood in the delivery room changes. The doctor “had given up trying to breathe life into her baby.” Yet in response to this death, Lydia is offered a comfort that does not address her pain: “You’re still young,” she is told.
As Lydia grieves, she fluctuates between disbelief, numbness, bewilderment, guilt, and rage. While she is struggling to process her son’s death, the doctor offers no comfort; the nurses perform their duties and leave. Her husband seems distant, delivering the perfunctory, meaningless assurance that she will be all right. Meanwhile, in the busy maternity ward, she is surrounded by the sights and sounds of new parents and their infants.
Lydia’s grief can only be truly appreciated by those who have experienced it; she does not want to interact with family or others. She has become an outsider in their world, a “mother with empty arms.” “Is there any place, anywhere in this world, for a mother with empty arms?”
Both Lydia and her husband are racked by guilt, analyzing what they themselves—and each other—must have done to cause this death. Both experience mixed emotions as they review the way the death unfolded, and as they examine the premises on which their marriage has been built, probing its meaning and purpose. In this, each struggles alone.
At home, John broods over his lost promotion while analyzing what Lydia and fatherhood mean to him. He goes to work, feeds the cats, packs away the baby’s things, and deals with his family and hers. (These incidents do not always draw out nobility of spirit, and neither of their mothers accept that their presence is not welcomed.) He resents the fact that he has not been appointed head surgeon after all his efforts, and he is bewildered when his wife grows distant despite his efforts to be a good husband. At the same time, he clings to his mistress, a marriage counselor at his hospital. As he becomes increasingly demanding, she rejects him, and he is outraged. At this point he begins to appreciate Lydia and is shocked to learn that she has considered leaving him.
During the first two weeks of their loss, Lydia and John grow apart. Neither has memories of their son in the world, for their baby did not have a life outside the womb. There are no external memories of good times shared with the child, no recollections to bring sweetness to the pain. They are grieving a broken potential, a raw, visceral pain that is neither rational nor readily explained. There is a selfish quality to their grief, a focus on what it means to the grieving one. It is a grief that lashes out—at the doctors, at each other, but mostly at the self. Without pretense, without judgment, the author probes and lays open their deepest thoughts, fears, and pain. Ultimately, though, communication begins—sharing fears, regrets, and feelings. Individual grief evolves into shared grief.
We move in time and space in this novel, going back to Lydia’s childhood in Greece and the changes brought by her family’s sudden move to North America. Similarly, we gaze into John’s past to see the expectations that have been placed on him. This sheds light on the characters in the present, and the arrangement is balanced and flows together well.
While reading, I wondered about the rapidity with which Lydia was moving forward, already planning to start a support group for parents of stillborn babies. She and her husband also move abruptly from lack of communication to open dialogue. The resolution appears to take place too soon. This story is, however, a slice of life, an intimate consideration of two weeks in a mourning time. There is no indication that this restoration is guaranteed to endure, and that all the hard parts are behind them. In this moment, there is peace, and in this an emerging conviction of hope, that there will be moments and times that are bearable.
“It is not true that time cures everything. All time does is teach you to live with invisible scars, Lydia found herself thinking.”
There is poignancy when John is home alone cradling the cat, and although he is not particularly fond of cats, “John surprised himself again, weeping into the cat’s abundant fur like a disconsolate child.” And for Lydia, there in the hospital room watching the custodian empty the wastebasket, as she reflects, “So many tissues! Pink and purple, crumpled and stained. Was there another room on this entire ward where so many tears had been shed?”
The story is told without sentiment and without judgment. There is simplicity of style and an observational quality to the entire work. As we read the shattering beginnings to the journey of Lydia and John, we wonder what the outcome might be in a year’s time, while drawing strength from the hints of beginning hope. A well-researched and compelling story.
Irena Karafilly is an award-winning author of several acclaimed books and of numerous stories, poems, and articles. She has published in literary and mainstream magazines, as well as in The New York Times and the International Herald Tribune. Her short stories have won Canada’s National Magazine Award and the CBC Literary Award. Her latest novel, Arrested Song, was recently published in the UK by Legend Press and was Finalist for the QWF 2024 Paragraphe-Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction. She divides her time between Montreal and Athens.
Publisher: Baraka Books (May 1, 2025)
Paperback 8″ x 5″ | 180 pages
ISBN: 9781771863810
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
- Anne Smith-Nochasakhttps://miramichireader.ca/author/annesn/
