Maria Gabriela Llansol's writing weaves together her life and those of her figures (not characters), drawn from history and fiction, in a intricate dialogue that questions the nature of literature itself. Her 'organic', overlapping works seem to defy the sense of an ending, even when
they deal explicitly with death. This article uses Freud's notion of 'mourning-work' to discuss three of Llansol's texts in which the narrator expresses her experience of the loss of beings who were particularly close to her: her dog, a beloved friend, and, most painful of all, her husband.
The grieving process is subsumed into the writing process and the deceased are resuscitated through language.
Journal of Romance Studies promotes innovative critical work in the areas of linguistics, literature, performing and visual arts, media, material culture, intellectual and cultural history, critical and cultural theory, psychoanalysis, gender studies, social sciences, and anthropology. The primary focus is on those parts of the world that speak, or have spoken, French, Italian, Spanish or Portuguese, but work on other cultures may be included. Issues cross national and disciplinary boundaries in order to stimulate new ways of thinking about cultural history and practice.