Literature & Fiction
![Ruta Sepetys - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B003NWP99Y.jpg)
I Must Betray You
A gut-wrenching, startling historical thriller about communist Romania and the citizen spy network that devastated a nation, from the #1 New York Times bestselling, award-winning author of Salt to the Sea and Between Shades of Gray.
Romania, 1989. Communist regimes are crumbling across Europe. Seventeen-year-old Cristian Florescu dreams of becoming a writer, but Romanians aren't free to dream; they are bound by rules and force.
Amidst the tyrannical dictatorship of Nicolae Ceaușescu in a country governed by isolation and fear, Cristian is blackmailed by the secret police to become an informer. He's left with only two choices: betray everyone and everything he loves-or use his position to creatively undermine the most notoriously evil dictator in Eastern Europe.
Cristian risks everything to unmask the truth behind the regime, give voice to fellow Romanians, and expose to the world what is happening in his country. He eagerly joins the revolution to fight for change when the time arrives. But what is the cost of freedom?
Master storyteller Ruta Sepetys is back with a historical thriller that examines the little-known history of a nation defined by silence, pain, and the unwavering conviction of the human spirit.
Romania, 1989. Communist regimes are crumbling across Europe. Seventeen-year-old Cristian Florescu dreams of becoming a writer, but Romanians aren't free to dream; they are bound by rules and force.
Amidst the tyrannical dictatorship of Nicolae Ceaușescu in a country governed by isolation and fear, Cristian is blackmailed by the secret police to become an informer. He's left with only two choices: betray everyone and everything he loves-or use his position to creatively undermine the most notoriously evil dictator in Eastern Europe.
Cristian risks everything to unmask the truth behind the regime, give voice to fellow Romanians, and expose to the world what is happening in his country. He eagerly joins the revolution to fight for change when the time arrives. But what is the cost of freedom?
Master storyteller Ruta Sepetys is back with a historical thriller that examines the little-known history of a nation defined by silence, pain, and the unwavering conviction of the human spirit.
Editorial Reviews
"As educational as it is thrilling...[T]he power of I Must Betray You [is] it doesn't just describe the destabilizing effects of being spied on; it will make you experience them too." –New York Times Book Review
★ "Sepetys brilliantly blends a staggering amount of research with heart, craft, and insight in a way very few writers can. Compulsively readable and brilliant." –Kirkus Reviews, starred review
★ "Sepetys once again masterfully portrays a dark, forgotten corner of history." –Booklist, starred review
★ "Sepetys's latest book maintains the caliber readers have come to expect from an author whose focus on hidden histories has made her a YA powerhouse of historical fiction…Sepetys is a formidable writer, and her stories declare the need to write about global issues of social injustice. For that reason and her attention to detail, this is a must-read." –School Library Journal, starred review
★ "Cristian's tense first-person narrative foregrounds stark historical realities, unflinchingly confronting deprivations and cruelty while balancing them with perseverance and hope as Romania hurtles toward political change." –Publishers Weekly, starred review
"A master class in pacing and atmosphere." –BookPage
★ "Sepetys brilliantly blends a staggering amount of research with heart, craft, and insight in a way very few writers can. Compulsively readable and brilliant." –Kirkus Reviews, starred review
★ "Sepetys once again masterfully portrays a dark, forgotten corner of history." –Booklist, starred review
★ "Sepetys's latest book maintains the caliber readers have come to expect from an author whose focus on hidden histories has made her a YA powerhouse of historical fiction…Sepetys is a formidable writer, and her stories declare the need to write about global issues of social injustice. For that reason and her attention to detail, this is a must-read." –School Library Journal, starred review
★ "Cristian's tense first-person narrative foregrounds stark historical realities, unflinchingly confronting deprivations and cruelty while balancing them with perseverance and hope as Romania hurtles toward political change." –Publishers Weekly, starred review
"A master class in pacing and atmosphere." –BookPage
Readers Top Reviews
Theresa Gonsiorow
This book was so engrossing, I could not put it down!! Told from the perspective of a teen boy, during 1989 and the revolution of Romania. Trying to get out of the hold of communism and the horrible leader of the country. Definite must read.
AudreyTheresa Gon
I Must Betray You is the second book I've read by Ruta Sepetys and, my goodness, I was not disappointed. Following seventeen-year-old Cristian, we are brought into the communist regime in Romania during the late 1980s. After being caught accepting a gift of American currency, he's forced to become an informer, mainly focusing on the American family his mother works for. He has to choose between friendship and his life as well as his family's. The story has a strong focus on friendship and the difficulties of maintaining relationships in a place where nobody can trust anybody, even their own families. Cristian's grandfather speaks more openly about the corruption he's seen, causing extra worry about listening devices and agents breaking into their own. Cristian already suspects someone close to him has been informing on him given how much the agent who recruited him seems to know. Through his American friends, Cristian is able to get an honest look at life in America rather than the lies the government has been feeding them. He realizes they have fridges full of food, wait in lines voluntarily, and is mystified by the existence Disneyland. What's more, is that he finds a photograph of Nicolae Ceaușescu visiting this place. Meanwhile, Romanians are being forced to suffer and live in isolation and fear. Cristian starts to think that maybe he can start to use his role as an informer to his advantage in an act of resistance. This is an emotional, twisty, action-filled story about a time so overlooked in history. I thought I was well-versed in the Cold War, but this book has taught me otherwise. I never knew they suffered so much as a nation. The end of the book has a number of photographs and quotes from this time which added a lot of context to the story. And though it was fast-paced, it didn't miss a beat in terms of plot or being able to connect to the characters. I loved this book as much as I loved The Fountains of Silence if not more. I'm looking forward to reading more from Ruta Sepetys. I'm officially hooked!
JamesAudreyTheres
Loved the book, I couldn’t stop reading! I wish it was longer especially towards the end of the book, however I do understand the Romanian revolution was very quick. My parents are from Romania and left in the 80s which is why I wanted to read this. After this I will be purchasing more from the author!
T. MillerJamesAud
I am a 9th grade world history teacher and I was shopping for a new Summer Reading historical fiction text for our students. We've been using "Between Shades of Gray" for years and kids love that text, and I thought I'd find a text by a new author, but wanted to try out Sepetys' new novel just in case. Well, SOLD! This book is fantastic. It centers around a 17 year old Romanian boy living under communism in 1989. I am a little younger than the lead character and remember the Berlin Wall falling in Nov of 1989 and being confused about why life for people in the Soviet bloc was so bad because I didn't know much about communism then. This books is just fantastic, and teen readers will love it too!
Julia WhartonT. M
When I got to college, I had a lot of classmates that were Romanian. I never thought specifically of why they and their families may have came to America. Now I have an idea why. Being born after the fall of communism, I have only known what I learned from school. We learn that the Berlin wall came down, communism ended, and every thing switched to capitalism. It wasn't that simple. I had heard that Czechoslovakia had peaceful protests to end communism in their country. I'm also familiar with Estonians singing in protest to end it in their country. Romania had a much tougher Way to freedom. I found my self wanting to know what was going to happen to Cristian, Liliana, and the other characters as well. Like her other books, I will think about this story for a while. I am looking forward to reading more of her books!
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Unu
Fear arrived at five o'clock.
It was October. A gray Friday.
If I had known? I would have run. Tried to hide.
But I didn't know.
Through the dim half-light of the school corridor I spotted my best friend, Luca. He walked toward me, passing the tedious sign shouting from the concrete wall.
New Men of Romania:
Long live Communism-the bright future of mankind!
At the time, my mind churned on something far from communism. Something more immediate.
School dismissed at 7:00 p.m. If I left at the right moment, I'd fall into step with her-the quiet girl with the hair hiding her eyes. It would feel coincidental, not forced.
Luca's tall, thin frame edged in beside me. "It's official. My stomach's eating itself."
"Here." I handed him my small pouch of sunflower seeds.
"Thanks. Did you hear? The librarian says you're a bad influence."
I laughed. Maybe it was true. Teachers referred to Luca as "sweet" but said I was sarcastic. If I was the type to throw a punch, Luca was the type to break up a fight. He had an eagerness about him, while I preferred to evaluate and watch from afar.
We paused so Luca could talk to a group of loud girls. I waited, impatient.
"Hei, Cristian," smiled one of the girls. "Nice hair, do you cut it with a kitchen knife?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "Blindfolded." I gave Luca a nod and continued down the hall alone.
"Pupil Florescu!"
The voice belonged to the school director. He lingered in the hallway, speaking with a colleague. Comrade Director shifted his weight, trying to appear casual.
Nothing was ever casual.
In class, we sat erect. Comrade Instructor lectured, bellowing at our group of forty students. We listened, stock still and squinting beneath the sickly light. We were marked "present" in attendance but were often absent from ourselves.
Luca and me, we wore navy suits and ties to liceu. All boys did. Girls, navy pinafores and white hair bands. Embroidered badges sewn onto our uniforms identified which school we attended. But in the fall and winter, our school uniforms weren't visible. They were covered by coats, knitted mufflers, and gloves to combat the bitter cold of the unheated cement building.
Cold and dark. Knuckles aching. It's hard to take notes when you can't feel your fingers. It's difficult to concentrate when the electricity snaps off.
The director cleared his throat. "Pupil Florescu," he repeated. "Proceed to the office. Your father has left a message for you."
My father? My father never came to school. I rarely saw him. He worked twelve-hour shifts, six days a week at a furniture factory.
A slithering knot coiled inside my stomach. "Yes, Comrade Director."
I proceeded to the office as I was told.
Could outsiders understand? In Romania, we did as we were told.
We were told a lot of things.
We were told that we were all brothers and sisters in communism. Addressing each other with the term "comrade" reinforced that we were all equal, with no social classes to divide us. Good brothers and sisters in communism followed rules.
I pretended to follow rules. I kept things to myself, like my interest in poetry and philosophy. I pretended other things too. I pretended to lose my comb, but really just preferred my hair spiky. I pretended not to notice when girls were looking at me. And this one-I pretended that studying English was a commitment to my country.
"Words are weapons. I'll be able to fight our American and British enemies with words, not only guns."
That's what I said.
Our weapons course was called Preparing Youth for Defending the Country. We began training with guns at age fourteen in school. Is that old or young compared to other countries? I remember jotting that question in my secret notebook.
In reality, my desire to speak English had nothing to do with fighting our enemies. How many enemies did we have, anyway? I honestly didn't know. The truth was, English class was full of smart, quiet girls. Girls I pretended not to notice. And if I spoke English, I could better unde...
Unu
Fear arrived at five o'clock.
It was October. A gray Friday.
If I had known? I would have run. Tried to hide.
But I didn't know.
Through the dim half-light of the school corridor I spotted my best friend, Luca. He walked toward me, passing the tedious sign shouting from the concrete wall.
New Men of Romania:
Long live Communism-the bright future of mankind!
At the time, my mind churned on something far from communism. Something more immediate.
School dismissed at 7:00 p.m. If I left at the right moment, I'd fall into step with her-the quiet girl with the hair hiding her eyes. It would feel coincidental, not forced.
Luca's tall, thin frame edged in beside me. "It's official. My stomach's eating itself."
"Here." I handed him my small pouch of sunflower seeds.
"Thanks. Did you hear? The librarian says you're a bad influence."
I laughed. Maybe it was true. Teachers referred to Luca as "sweet" but said I was sarcastic. If I was the type to throw a punch, Luca was the type to break up a fight. He had an eagerness about him, while I preferred to evaluate and watch from afar.
We paused so Luca could talk to a group of loud girls. I waited, impatient.
"Hei, Cristian," smiled one of the girls. "Nice hair, do you cut it with a kitchen knife?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "Blindfolded." I gave Luca a nod and continued down the hall alone.
"Pupil Florescu!"
The voice belonged to the school director. He lingered in the hallway, speaking with a colleague. Comrade Director shifted his weight, trying to appear casual.
Nothing was ever casual.
In class, we sat erect. Comrade Instructor lectured, bellowing at our group of forty students. We listened, stock still and squinting beneath the sickly light. We were marked "present" in attendance but were often absent from ourselves.
Luca and me, we wore navy suits and ties to liceu. All boys did. Girls, navy pinafores and white hair bands. Embroidered badges sewn onto our uniforms identified which school we attended. But in the fall and winter, our school uniforms weren't visible. They were covered by coats, knitted mufflers, and gloves to combat the bitter cold of the unheated cement building.
Cold and dark. Knuckles aching. It's hard to take notes when you can't feel your fingers. It's difficult to concentrate when the electricity snaps off.
The director cleared his throat. "Pupil Florescu," he repeated. "Proceed to the office. Your father has left a message for you."
My father? My father never came to school. I rarely saw him. He worked twelve-hour shifts, six days a week at a furniture factory.
A slithering knot coiled inside my stomach. "Yes, Comrade Director."
I proceeded to the office as I was told.
Could outsiders understand? In Romania, we did as we were told.
We were told a lot of things.
We were told that we were all brothers and sisters in communism. Addressing each other with the term "comrade" reinforced that we were all equal, with no social classes to divide us. Good brothers and sisters in communism followed rules.
I pretended to follow rules. I kept things to myself, like my interest in poetry and philosophy. I pretended other things too. I pretended to lose my comb, but really just preferred my hair spiky. I pretended not to notice when girls were looking at me. And this one-I pretended that studying English was a commitment to my country.
"Words are weapons. I'll be able to fight our American and British enemies with words, not only guns."
That's what I said.
Our weapons course was called Preparing Youth for Defending the Country. We began training with guns at age fourteen in school. Is that old or young compared to other countries? I remember jotting that question in my secret notebook.
In reality, my desire to speak English had nothing to do with fighting our enemies. How many enemies did we have, anyway? I honestly didn't know. The truth was, English class was full of smart, quiet girls. Girls I pretended not to notice. And if I spoke English, I could better unde...
