If hell is other people, then being locked up with these three is its deepest chamber. Of interest to students of Latin...
Brutal, mercifully short novella of life inside a Mexican prison.
Himself a former political prisoner who died in 1976, Revueltas served time in the Palacio de Lecumberri, perhaps the worst of the worst of Mexican jails, where he wrote this roman à clef. His story recounts the struggle of three inmates caught up in an ugly, unwinnable war against their guards, for whom they have a simian name: “They were captive there, the apes, just like the rest of them,” Revueltas’ story opens. That the apes get to wear uniforms and badges and go home at night is about the only thing that distinguishes them from the prisoners, and everyone involved is a violent sort except for “The Prick,” a half-blind junkie whom two other prisoners, bearing the Shakespearean names Polonio and Albino, are angling to implicate in a plot by which “The Prick’s mother—amazingly just as ugly as her son,”—would smuggle drugs inside the prison, carrying them deep within her person. What could go wrong? Everything, as it turns out. As the story, told in a single onrushing paragraph for no apparent reason, unfolds, we learn the backstories of the characters, none of them remotely pleasant or honorable except of the honor-among-thieves variety; Albino had been a soldier and a pimp, but his addiction is so strong that he cries “from the lack of drugs, but stopping short of slitting his wrists, something all the addicts did when the anxiety got too tense.“ He and Polonio share a girlfriend, who “was an honorable woman, a tramp sure, but when she slept with other men it wasn’t for the money, no….” Meche is the brains behind the operation, but that’s not saying much, and the whole thing ends in a bloodbath. There’s no hint of the magical realism that characterized Latin American literature at the time; Revueltas’ story is realistic, period, and deeply unpleasant.
If hell is other people, then being locked up with these three is its deepest chamber. Of interest to students of Latin American literary history.Pub Date: Oct. 30, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-8112-2778-0
Page Count: 80
Publisher: New Directions
Review Posted Online: Oct. 1, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2018
An illuminating read for anyone interested in the inner workings of the Catholic Church; for prelate-fiction superfans, it...
Harris, creator of grand, symphonic thrillers from Fatherland (1992) to An Officer and a Spy (2014), scores with a chamber piece of a novel set in the Vatican in the days after a fictional pope dies.
Fictional, yes, but the nameless pontiff has a lot in common with our own Francis: he’s famously humble, shunning the lavish Apostolic Palace for a small apartment, and he is committed to leading a church that engages with the world and its problems. In the aftermath of his sudden death, rumors circulate about the pope’s intention to fire certain cardinals. At the center of the action is Cardinal Lomeli, Dean of the College of Cardinals, whose job it is to manage the conclave that will elect a new pope. He believes it is also his duty to uncover what the pope knew before he died because some of the cardinals in question are in the running to succeed him. “In the running” is an apt phrase because, as described by Harris, the papal conclave is the ultimate political backroom—albeit a room, the Sistine Chapel, covered with Michelangelo frescoes. Vying for the papal crown are an African cardinal whom many want to see as the first black pope, a press-savvy Canadian, an Italian arch-conservative (think Cardinal Scalia), and an Italian liberal who wants to continue the late pope’s campaign to modernize the church. The novel glories in the ancient rituals that constitute the election process while still grounding that process in the real world: the Sistine Chapel is fitted with jamming devices to thwart electronic eavesdropping, and the pressure to act quickly is increased because “rumours that the pope is dead are already trending on social media.”
An illuminating read for anyone interested in the inner workings of the Catholic Church; for prelate-fiction superfans, it is pure temptation.Pub Date: Nov. 22, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-451-49344-6
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: Sept. 6, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2016
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
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