A father clings to his mundane routines, such as taking care of his aquarium, in order to deal with the misfortune of his hospitalised and disabled daughter; a married couple is bothered by the constant harassment endured by one of their neighbors, and they wish that he would go away; a man does everything in his power to avoid being pointed out by everybody in town, as they all turn their backs on him; a woman decides to leave with her children without really knowing why she is being harassed. The stories in Los peces de la amargura are written as chronicles or articles, as first-person narrations, as letters or stories told to children. They are very much a tribute and a denunciation, and they are told without apparent drama, so that only emotion arises – indirectly, unexpectedly, but most efficiently.
It is easy to feel moved when reading the apparently modest, deceptively simple stories that make up Los peces de la amargura, as they deal with the painful subject of criminal violence based on a political excuse. It takes an exceptional narrator such as Aramburu to tell it in a truthful and believable way. The variety and originality of narrators and approaches, the richness of characters and their different experiences make up an unforgettable image of the years of bloodshed in Euskadi.