On a Woman’s Madness by Astrid Roemer

Astrid Roemer’s On a Woman’s Madness, translated from Dutch by Lucy Scott and published by Two Lines Press (2023) and Tilted Axis Press (2024), is a luminous, fragmented novel longlisted for the 2025 International Booker Prize and a finalist for the 2023 National Book Award for Translated Literature. Originally published in 1982, this landmark of queer literature by the Surinamese-Dutch author, the first Surinamese winner of the Dutch Literature Prize (2021), follows Noenka, a Black, queer, Jewish woman navigating love, identity, and societal oppression in postcolonial Suriname.

Hailed as “a testament to the resilience of queer lives everywhere” (International Booker Prize Judges, 2025), the novel blends poetic prose with sharp postcolonial commentary, drawing comparisons to Toni Morrison and Alice Walker.

For Indian readers, particularly women, it resonates with the feminist critiques of Ismat Chughtai, the emotional intensity of Punjabi writers like Amrita Pritam, and the lyrical depth of Hindi feminist writer Kamala Das. Its themes of autonomy, resistance, and forbidden love echo India’s struggles with gender, caste, and cultural expectations, offering a lens to reflect on personal and collective liberation. This review argues that On a Woman’s Madness is essential reading for its poetic narrative, unflinching exploration of marginalization, and celebration of defiant love, inspiring Indian women to embrace their agency in a world that often seeks to constrain it.

On a Woman’s Madness is a non-linear, confessional narrative tracing Noenka’s journey to live authentically in postcolonial Suriname. The novel opens with her bold decision to end her abusive marriage to Louis after just nine days: “My marriage lasted exactly nine days, making waves in our tiny, riverine country and setting me adrift for the rest of my life” (Roemer, 2023, p. 1). Defying her husband’s refusal to grant a divorce, Noenka flees her hometown for Paramaribo, where she encounters new freedoms, romances, and the weight of societal judgment.

In Paramaribo, Noenka’s life is steeped in sensory richness and emotional complexity. Her childhood memories evoke a lost community: “Peetje smelled like overripe sapodilla and bananas, and she chewed indifferently on a bitter orange stem whose scent stung my nose and made me sneeze” (Roemer, 2023, p. 13). She recalls her mother’s laughter with Peetje: “Their abundant laughter came often: Ma’s piercing and full, Peetje’s low and ample” (Roemer, 2023, p. 14). Her pursuit of autonomy leads to a scandalous relationship with Ramses, a rumored womanizer: “I know it, there are limits, but do they exist for love?” (Roemer, 2023, p. 89). The narrative shifts when Noenka meets Gabrielle, a married white woman with two disabled children, sparking a passionate, forbidden love affair: “You know what, Noenka, when I see you again, it’s exactly like I’m falling to pieces. It’s like it’s raining somewhere” (Roemer, 2023, p. 167). Their bond, set against Suriname’s postcolonial tensions, is both a refuge and a source of condemnation, as Noenka asserts her identity: “I’m Noenka, which means ‘Never Again’” (Roemer, 2023, p. 45). The novel’s fragmented structure mirrors her inner turmoil, with recurring imagery of snakes and orchids: “In clusters, panicles, and spikes, the orchids bloom with bizarre lips that try to kiss our earth” (Roemer, 2023, p. 182). Noenka’s reflections on her plantation-born father and strict Catholic mother underscore colonial legacies: “The echo that’s been resounding in my stomach for days makes my mood unstable” (Roemer, 2023, p. 76). Through Noenka’s defiance, Roemer explores the cost of authenticity in a world that punishes nonconformity, weaving a tapestry of love, survival, and resistance.

On a Woman’s Madness is a literary masterpiece, distinguished by its poetic, fragmented prose and fearless exploration of intersectional identities, making it a vital read for Indian women readers. Lucy Scott’s translation captures the novel’s sensory richness, as seen in Noenka’s vivid memory: “Peetje smelled like overripe sapodilla and bananas, and she chewed indifferently on a bitter orange stem whose scent stung my nose and made me sneeze” (Roemer, 2023, p. 13). This lush imagery, described as a “dreamscape” (The New York Times, 2023), resonates with the lyrical depth of Kamala Das’s My Story, captivating readers in Delhi’s literary circles or Amritsar’s bookstores.

The novel’s non-linear, confessional structure mirrors Noenka’s fractured psyche, akin to the experimental narrative of Ismat Chughtai’s The Crooked Line. Noenka’s bold assertion—“I’m Noenka, which means ‘Never Again’” (Roemer, 2023, p. 45)—embodies her defiance, echoing Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar, where women resist societal constraints. The exploration of queer love, particularly Noenka’s affair with Gabrielle—“You know what, Noenka, when I see you again, it’s exactly like I’m falling to pieces” (Roemer, 2023, p. 167)—is tender yet radical, aligning with the emotional intensity of Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s Loona. This resonates with Indian women navigating taboo identities, from queer communities in Mumbai to traditional settings in Punjab.

Roemer’s postcolonial commentary, as in Noenka’s reflection—“The echo that’s been resounding in my stomach for days makes my mood unstable” (Roemer, 2023, p. 76)—connects with India’s colonial history, explored in Kamala Markandaya’s Nectar in a Sieve. The novel’s vivid imagery, like “In clusters, panicles, and spikes, the orchids bloom with bizarre lips that try to kiss our earth” (Roemer, 2023, p. 182), evokes the poetic resonance of Surjit Patar’s Hawa Vich Likhe Harf, enhancing its appeal for readers seeking layered narratives. Its brevity—under 200 pages—ensures accessibility, while its meditation on freedom as “an activity, a kind of restlessness” (The Guardian, 2023) mirrors the resilience of Indian women writers like Arundhati Roy, making it a powerful text for diverse audiences.

Despite its brilliance, On a Woman’s Madness has limitations for Indian women readers. The fragmented, non-linear narrative can feel disorienting, as some critics note: “Plot strands not so much unravelled as lost in her tangled story” (The New York Times, 2023). Noenka’s stream-of-consciousness reflections, like “The echo that’s been resounding in my stomach for days makes my mood unstable” (Roemer, 2023, p. 76), may alienate readers accustomed to the cohesive storytelling of Premchand’s Godan or Anita Nair’s Ladies Coupé, particularly in rural India where linear narratives are preferred.

The Surinamese setting, while rich, may feel distant to Indian readers unfamiliar with its postcolonial context, unlike Heart Lamp, the 2025 Booker winner, which addresses South Indian women’s struggles (The Hindu, 2025). Noenka’s intersectional identity—Black, queer, Jewish—may resonate less with Indian women facing caste or religious discrimination, limiting engagement with issues like Dalit or Muslim women’s experiences. The graphic depiction of abuse—“My marriage lasted exactly nine days, making waves in our tiny, riverine country” (Roemer, 2023, p. 1)—may feel traumatic for readers in patriarchal settings like rural Rajasthan, where such themes hit close without sufficient resolution.

The open-ended conclusion, with Noenka’s love for Gabrielle unresolved—“You know what, Noenka, when I see you again, it’s exactly like I’m falling to pieces” (Roemer, 2023, p. 167)—may frustrate readers who prefer the moral clarity of Chughtai’s stories or Gurdial Singh’s Marhi Da Deeva. The 1982 context feels dated in parts, as some critics suggest (The Guardian, 2023), potentially reducing its immediacy for younger Indian readers in tech-savvy cities like Bengaluru, who may prefer contemporary narratives like Anuradha Roy’s The Earthspinner.

Why Indian Readers Must Read This Book

On a Woman’s Madness is a must-read for Indian women because its poetic exploration of queer identity, defiance of societal norms, and critique of postcolonial oppression resonate deeply with India’s feminist literary traditions and the lived experiences of women navigating patriarchal and cultural constraints, offering a transformative lens to reclaim autonomy and resilience. For women in urban centers like Mumbai or rural areas like Punjab, Noenka’s rejection of her abusive marriage—“My marriage lasted exactly nine days, making waves in our tiny, riverine country and setting me adrift for the rest of my life” (Roemer, 2023, p. 1)—mirrors the courage of Indian women challenging oppressive marriages, from dowry-related abuse in Delhi to forced unions in Uttar Pradesh. This echoes the defiance in Ismat Chughtai’s Lihaf, where women assert their desires against societal taboos, inspiring readers to confront patriarchal norms in their own lives, whether resisting familial pressure in Varanasi or workplace misogyny in Bengaluru.

The novel’s portrayal of queer love, particularly Noenka’s affair with Gabrielle—“You know what, Noenka, when I see you again, it’s exactly like I’m falling to pieces. It’s like it’s raining somewhere” (Roemer, 2023, p. 167)—resonates with Indian women navigating forbidden identities in a country where the legacy of Section 377 lingers, despite its 2018 repeal. This aligns with the emotional intensity of Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar, where love defies societal norms, offering solace to queer women in Kolkata or Chennai seeking acceptance within conservative communities. Noenka’s fierce assertion—“I’m Noenka, which means ‘Never Again’” (Roemer, 2023, p. 45)—embodies a claim to agency, echoing the feminist rebellion in Kamala Das’s My Story, where women reject societal constraints, inspiring Indian women to assert their identities, from students in Lucknow to professionals in Hyderabad.

Roemer’s postcolonial commentary—“The echo that’s been resounding in my stomach for days makes my mood unstable” (Roemer, 2023, p. 76)—connects with India’s history of colonial subjugation and its impact on women, as explored in Kamala Markandaya’s Nectar in a Sieve. This resonates with Indian women facing intersectional challenges, such as Dalit women in Maharashtra or Muslim women in Hyderabad, navigating caste, religion, and gender biases in their quest for dignity. The novel’s sensory imagery, like “Peetje smelled like overripe sapodilla and bananas, and she chewed indifferently on a bitter orange stem whose scent stung my nose and made me sneeze” (Roemer, 2023, p. 13), evokes the nostalgia of Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s Loona, where sensory details anchor emotional truths, appealing to Punjabi women in Amritsar or Ludhiana who find solace in poetic storytelling.

The celebration of female community—“Their abundant laughter came often: Ma’s piercing and full, Peetje’s low and ample” (Roemer, 2023, p. 14)—mirrors the solidarity in Indian women’s narratives, like Anita Desai’s Clear Light of Day, resonating with women building networks in urban slums or rural self-help groups in Gujarat. Noenka’s pursuit of freedom—“In On a Woman’s Madness, freedom is not a place but an activity, a kind of restlessness” (The Guardian, 2023)—aligns with Indian concepts of mukti (liberation), encouraging women to pursue self-determination, whether in academic pursuits in Delhi or entrepreneurial ventures in Chandigarh. The novel’s lush imagery, such as “In clusters, panicles, and spikes, the orchids bloom with bizarre lips that try to kiss our earth” (Roemer, 2023, p. 182), evokes the poetic depth of Surjit Patar’s Hawa Vich Likhe Harf, captivating readers seeking emotional resonance.

Noenka’s challenge to societal limits—“I know it, there are limits, but do they exist for love?” (Roemer, 2023, p. 89)—confronts patriarchal norms, aligning with Gurdial Singh’s Marhi Da Deeva and Kartar Singh Duggal’s Naukar di Mout, where marginalized voices resist oppression, inspiring women to confront systemic barriers, from street harassment in Mumbai to honor-based violence in Haryana. The novel’s exploration of mental health, with Noenka teetering “at the precipice of madness” (The New York Times, 2023), resonates with India’s growing awareness of psychological well-being, offering solace to women in therapy groups or urban support networks facing domestic violence or societal pressure.

The novel’s brevity—under 200 pages—makes it accessible for women balancing professional and domestic lives, from teachers in Bhopal to homemakers in Jalandhar. Its Surinamese setting introduces Indian women to a parallel postcolonial narrative, broadening perspectives on global sisterhood, as noted by Caribbean readers (The New York Times, 2023). The resonance with Punjabi critics like Gurdial Singh and Kartar Singh Duggal, who explore societal facades, and Hindi poet Nirala’s Apsara, which celebrates inner strength, deepens its appeal. For Indian women navigating cultural expectations, from arranged marriages to career ambitions, On a Woman’s Madness offers a clarion call to embrace defiance and authenticity, echoing the resilience of festivals like Navratri or Kabir’s teachings of inner truth, urging readers to forge their own paths in a world that demands conformity.

On a Woman’s Madness by Astrid Roemer is a poetic, electrifying novel that earns its place on the 2025 International Booker Prize longlist. Its lush prose, captured in quotes like “My marriage lasted exactly nine days, making waves in our tiny, riverine country” (Roemer, 2023, p. 1) and “I’m Noenka, which means ‘Never Again’” (Roemer, 2023, p. 45), weaves a powerful narrative of queer resilience and postcolonial struggle. For Indian women readers, its resonance with feminist writer Kamala Das, Punjabi writers like Amrita Pritam, Shiv Kumar Batalvi, Gurdial Singh, and Kartar Singh Duggal, and Hindi poet Nirala, alongside its critique of societal oppression, makes it an essential read, despite challenges with its fragmented structure and unfamiliar setting. Its vivid imagery, like “In clusters, panicles, and spikes, the orchids bloom with bizarre lips that try to kiss our earth” (Roemer, 2023, p. 182), and exploration of defiant love inspire reflection on India’s gendered and cultural battles. Highly recommended, On a Woman’s Madness is a transformative call for Indian women to embrace their agency and resilience in a world that often seeks to confine them.