Review: "Once We Are Safe" by Alessandra Carati

Once We Are Safe by Alessandra Carati
Translated from the Italian by Linda Worell and Laura Masini
Published October 2025 via Amazon Crossing
★★★

At home, I asked my mother if it was true that the war was coming. "No," she said, "it will never come to this village." I believed her. (loc. 92)

Aida is six when her family flees the Bosnian War and takes refuge in Milan—their village is no longer safe. It's temporary, her parents assure her, assure each other, over and over again. They'll be back to the village before they know it. But the war drags on, and they get settled in Italy, and by the time it's safe to go back most of what they knew is gone.

We didn't even hug goodbye. Everyone kept saying that it wouldn't be for long—two weeks at most, and then we'd go home. (loc. 159)

I was eager to read this because I've read precious little about this time and place. I was too young when the Bosnian War was happening to know that it existed, and it was only ever an afterthought in my history classes. And beyond that, even Italy in the early 90s is not something I've read much about. Literature in translation...yes please.

I found that the structure of the book impeded my interest somewhat, though. The book is short, and the chapters shorter; I sped right through. But each chapter feels more like a snapshot than anything: Despite the brief nature of the chapters, there's often a gap of time between one chapter and the next—sometimes only a day, sometimes much longer. Sometimes the breaks are longer; Aida jumps from seven years old to choosing what to study in high school, and later she jumps from studying classics in high school to a professional degree that she's previously shown no interest in. Her parents, meanwhile, change little; her mother never gets beyond the grief of leaving her homeland behind, or of losing so many of her loved ones.

There's one line that reminded me of something in The Unbreakable Heart of Oliva Denaro: I couldn't understand why Abraham didn't just defy God and try to keep his son anyway. Babo would never have given up a male child, not for all the world, not even if he'd been asked by Allah. (loc. 572) It's striking for the understanding Aida has as a young child—she's still about six when she says this—how much more boys matter in her world, in the world generally. Her statement is neutral, matter of fact; it doesn't occur to her that her father might think the same way about a daughter. This is followed up on somewhat throughout the book, but I think I wish it had been covered a bit further. Aida's younger brother, who is born after this point in the book, eventually becomes the focus of the family's energies, though for different reasons than Aida expresses here, and so too does the book lose focus on what it is to have a homeland torn apart by war. I wish there had been a bit more of a sense of place; I didn't pick up all that much of a sense of being either in Bosnia or in Italy, and if the story had been picked up and put in the context of a different conflict, I don't think all that much would have to be changed.

So...glad to have read this, but I'm not sure how well it will stay with me. A quick read, though, and always nice to pick up something about a situation I don't know enough about.