to the Portland house she hasn't visited in fifteen years. Among the debris of
an immigrant life, she discovers twelve undated journals her grandmother Helen
called "the nameless days" -- entries written when ordinary moments carried
extraordinary weight.
The journals reveal Helen's hidden past: her arrival in America after the fall
of Saigon, a forbidden love with an American soldier named Michael, and a child
given up for adoption and never spoken of again. As Maya reads, she uncovers a
family architecture of silence that has shaped every relationship she has ever
tried to build.
Navigating the dissolution of her long-term relationship, a tentative new
connection with bookstore owner Daniel, and the startling possibility that
Helen's lost daughter may still be alive, Maya must decide what to preserve,
what to release, and what to finally name.
A meditation on memory, inheritance, and the quiet moments that accumulate into
a life. For readers of Pachinko, The Last Story of Mina Lee, and Interior
Chinatown.
Robin Case writes novels that explore the spaces between people—the silences, the distances, the accumulated daily gestures that constitute both love and its absence. Her work has been described as "quietly devastating" and she is interested in the particular power of what is left unsaid.
The Nameless Days is her third novel. She lives in Portland, Oregon, where she can often be found in independent bookstores, in community gardens, and in the particular quality of afternoon light that her characters tend to notice.
She writes by hand, in notebooks, and she believes—as her characters tend to believe—that attention is the highest form of presence, and that the ordinary moments of a life, carefully observed, carry the weight of everything we need to understand about each other.