Review
“A compelling memoir by an Argentine writer who discovers that her mother was killed by the brutal military dictatorship—and that the man she thought was her father was part of the regime.” —O, The Oprah Magazine
“Donda deftly leads readers through Argentina’s Byzantine history of guerrilla groups, dictatorships, coups and military policies, providing a solid foundation for understanding the political and social upheavals underpinning her story…Donda’s captivating account of her surreal role in pulling back the curtain on one of the darkest periods of Argentine history merits a wide readership.” —Kirkus Reviews
“A powerful story of a woman who defies all odds and learns her true identity, and succeeds. Victoria Donda’s journey to claim her identity is exemplary, and refreshing. She represents a generational change and promise for Argentina. I highly recommend this book. You will come out stronger and full of optimism about life. The narrative is spellbinding.” —David Cox, CNN journalist, author of Dirty Secrets, Dirty War and Unveiling the Enigma: Who Stole the Hands of Juan Peron
“This extraordinary book is a gift from the generous heart and bright intellect of Victoria Donda, who was the 78th grandchild identified by the Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo. Victoria’s triumph is to take us to the core of her resilience–her determination to fight for her dignity and her identity, while she leads the reader through the maze of Argentine politics and history. Empowered and empowering, My Name is Victoria sheds light on our quest to recover from a collective tragedy, to resist destruction at the hands of the powerful, to keep loving when an avalanche of hatred threatens our sanity.” —Alicia Partnoy, author of The Little School: Tales of Disappearance and Survival
About the Author
Victoria Donda is a human rights activist and legislator. She is the first daughter of a disappeared person, born in captivity, to become a member of the Argentine National Congress. She is also the youngest woman to hold that office.
Magda Bogin is a novelist, translator, and journalist. She is the author of Natalya, God’s Messenger, and The Women Troubadours, and has published numerous translations, including House of the Spirits. Fluent in Spanish, English, French, Italian, and Russian, she is the founder and director of Under the Volcano.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
I was twenty-seven years old when the Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo finally tracked me down and informed me of my true identity, thanks to an anonymous tip from a woman who remembered seeing a soldier hand over a baby with blue thread tied through her earlobes.
According to the testimony of certain survivors, I was born between August and September, 1977. In a desperate attempt to make sure I would be recognized, my mother used a sewing needle to pierce my ears with blue surgical thread she had been given in case she experienced complications during labor. Fifteen days later, I was taken from her arms. She never saw me again. She was subjected to one of the infamous “transfers,” in which prisoners were injected with sodium pentothal, a powerful form of anesthesia, before being loaded onto military planes and thrown into the sea alive. Like all his colleagues at ESMA (the Superior School of Naval Mechanics), which had been transformed into one of the most sinister torture centers in the heart of Buenos Aires, my own uncle had approved her “transfer.”
I was thus raised in a brazen lie, knowing nothing of my true roots and loving the very people who, to a greater or lesser degree, were responsible for the tragic fate of my real parents. Despite this, I grew up, constructed my own personality, and managed to find my place in life through political activism, never once suspecting that I was following the path my biological parents had chosen long before.
