Goodbye, Ramona: A Novel (Modern Library Torchbearers) - Softcover

Roig, Montserrat

Softcover

ISBN 10: 059397882X ISBN 13: 9780593978825

Publisher: Modern Library, 2026

Synopsis

A vivid, enchanting novel, spanning over sixty years, chronicling the lives, loves, and secrets of three generations of women in 20th-century Barcelona—a rediscovered classic by “the shining light of Catalan literature” (Colm Tóibín), with an introduction from Catherine Lacey

“That Roig’s work has lost none of its immediacy over the years speaks to the urgency of her prose and the timelessness of her vision.”—Anthony Marra, author of Mercury Pictures Presents

Three women from the same family—grandmother, mother, and daughter, all named Ramona—come to life in the pages of Montserrat Roig’s Goodbye, Ramona. The eldest Ramona lives quietly with her well-meaning husband, but longs for the romance and adventure of her favorite nineteenth-century novels. Years later, her daughter, Ramona Ventura, finds herself constantly enduring her husband’s mood swings and aggressive outbursts. The youngest Ramona falls for a university student whose progressive ideals are undercut by his condescending treatment of her. Each woman, in her own time and in her own way, lives her life in silence: their true feelings about the men in their lives, the violence of Franco’s dictatorship, and their dreams and aspirations, all go unspoken. 

But the youngest Ramona is lucky enough to be growing up in a Barcelona on the brink of revolution, in the 1960s, when women are finally beginning to claim agency. Will she break free from the fate of the women who came before her and build a life centered on her own happiness? 

Goodbye, Ramona is an unforgettable social mosaic of Barcelona across the 20th-century, and a universal, powerhouse story of love, power, and the lasting influence that family holds over all of us.

About this title

About the Author

Montserrat Roig (1946-1991) was an award-winning writer and journalist based on Barcelona, and the recipient of numerous prestigious prizes including the Premi Víctor Catalŕ and the Premi Sant Jordi. Her journalistic work focused on forging a creative feminist tradition, and on recovering the country’s political history. Her novels take similar stances, reflecting on the need to liberate women who were silenced by history.

Excerpt. Š Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Ramona Jover

December 6th, 1894

The day after tomorrow, I’m marrying the widow Climent’s nephew, Francisco Ventura, who saved me the night of the Liceu bombing.* The widow Climent isn’t really a widow, but she calls herself one because her husband ran off to Havana with a Parisian dancer. I know because my maid told me, my parents’ maid, I mean, and she knows because of Pauleta’s mother’s maid.

The day after tomorrow I’m getting married. How funny to be writing such a thing, just like that. I feel none of the ivresse you read about in novels. It all began with my First Communion, then I was a debutante in a long dress, and tomorrow I’m marrying Francisco.

I like Francisco’s presence. Though I sometimes wish I could find an inkling of melancholy in his countenance, the sadness of romantic spirits from whom we expect nothing in this world. Francisco carries himself well; he’s an educated gentleman, fine and elegant. I can see the tenderness in his eyes when he looks at me. He’s an honest man, and I couldn’t wish for anything more. Father had said, look, dear, you have to remember we come from peasants, and we only grew rich by exporting hazelnuts from Siurana, but the tide could change at any moment. Father says that Francisco has a discreet but steady fortune and that he’s sensible and has Barcelonan roots, and that his family, other than his wishy-washy uncle, is honest and good.

The first few days Francisco came to visit he’d make me laugh because I didn’t know that men would paint their moustaches to make them look daintier. I’d be entertained while he and Father talked business, eyeing the way he’d curl it with his fingertips. He’d grab a few hairs, give them two or three twists, and move his head one way then the other. Sometimes he’d wet his lips with his tongue. He’d poke it out slowly and run it across the edges of his mouth. His lips would stay wet, shining like two cherries beneath his moustache. When he’d come to visit on the days we hosted—especially when Father was around—he’d straighten his shoulders, his spine stiff, his legs like two posts, his gaze, attentive. He’d prop both hands on a cane with a mother-of-pearl top. He seemed somewhat vulgar to me when he did that. I don’t think a gentleman should try to look like a gentleman. It should come from within, without anyone knowing how it’s done. Francisco’s a moneylender and apparently does just fine for himself. Father’s pleased and doesn’t hide it. And even though Mother argues with him, she says it’s nothing to fret over, and that that’s the whole point, to find a proper man for the girl, meaning me.

But I felt so old on the day Francisco said, miss, you don’t know how I love you, you’re everything to me. I long for when I was a child with nothing on my mind, when everything made me happy. I spent all my spare time looking out the window, trying to catch a piece of sky, a strip of clouds that would swell and contract. That way I wouldn’t be sad, because the little clouds would tell me all about their travels, and how the world looked small and how America was a green sheet and Spain was so tiny you could barely see it.

Edition details

• Publisher: Modern Library
• Publication date: 2026
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 059397882X
• ISBN 13: 9780593978825
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 224