Tag Archives: The Arts

Huatulco

The Magic of Oaxaca Unveiled: Books to Start a Journey of Discovery

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By Carole Reedy

Oaxaca is ethnically and linguistically the most diverse state in Mexico; it’s also the home state of Mexico’s most popular and effective president, Benito Juárez. It’s here where July’s wildly colorful annual music and dance celebration Guelaguetza takes place. And to quench your thirst, Oaxaca is known for its smooth yet tangy liquor known as mezcal.

If that’s not enough, Oaxaca cheese and mole are incomparable.

I was fortunate to spend ten happy, serene years living on a Oaxacan beach. What follows is a selection from the written word in diverse styles, eras, and points of view of this highly original Mexican state.

The Ultimate Good Luck, by Richard Ford (1981)

We know Richard Ford as the author of The Sportswriter (1986) and its sequel Independence Day (1995), with Frank Bascombe as the protagonist; Independence Day won the Pulitzer Prize – there are three more Bascombe novels. Irving can lay claim to being our present-day Faulkner or Updike.

One reader calls this novel a “narcocorrida.” It certainly take us to the dark side of Mexico with drugs and eroticism in Ford’s unique understated style. The New York Times Book Review describes it as having a “taut, cinematic quality that bathes his story with the same hot, mercilessly white light that scorches Mexico.”

Recollections of Things to Come, by Elena Garro (1969)

The universally admired poet and Nobel Prize winner Octavio Paz calls this classic gem “a truly extraordinary work, one of the most perfect creations in contemporary Latin American literature.” These words and the recommendation from the venerated Paz are reason enough to open the pages of this unusual novel.

The fictional town of Ixtepec narrates the story, set in the post-Revolution time (late 1920s). You will meet all the town’s inhabitants, from those in high society to prostitutes on the street.

In an unusual episodic style, impressions move the plot of this novel, which is full of color, smells, and visual seasoning. Garro’s book is often considered one of the first magical realism novels. It is not a pretty picture of Mexico during this time of classism, racism, misogyny, and violence.

You may not be familiar with Garro, though she was at one point married to Octavio Paz. She has been ignored by Mexican intellectuals, who consider her a government informer on the 1968 student movement (known as the Tlatelolco massacre).

Garro spent many years in self-exile, living in the US, Spain, and France, but she returned to live in Cuernavaca, where she died at 81 near her beloved cats and daughter.

Lawrence in Oaxaca: A Quest for the Novelist in Mexico, by Ross Parmenta (1984)

The well-travelled British novelist D. H. Lawrence, famous yet controversial, spent just two years in the Lake Chapala and Oaxaca regions of Mexico.

After the Mexican Revolution, in 1923, he and his wife visited a Mexico that was recuperating from the dregs of war. It is here he finished his well-known Mexican novel The Plumed Serpent (1926). He also completed four of the essays that make up his popular Mornings in Mexico (1927), personal observations that capture the country’s spirit. Reading both these gems will be well worth your while.

Lawrence was not interested in the politics of the Mexican Revolution or the cultural and artistic aspects, such as Mexico’s famed muralists. Lawrence’s interest lay in the “mythical exaltation of the Indian,” which is at the core of The Plumed Serpent – an early draft of the novel was published as Quetzalcoatl (1998).

Lawrence and his wife fled to the US in 1922 after WWI, he having just escaped death from a bout of influenza. He did, however, die shortly thereafter, at age 44 in 1930, from complications of tuberculosis.

He once said “I want to gather together about twenty souls and sail away from this world of war and squalor and found a little colony where there shall be no money but a sort of communism as far as necessaries of life go, and some real decency … a place where one can live simply, apart from this civilization [with] a few other people who are also at peace and happy and live, and understand and be free.” Many would wish the same.

Lawrence in Mexico is a work of double affection both for the novelist and Oaxaca, the city in which he produced his memorable work.

Avenue of Mysteries: A Novel, by John Irving (2015)

John Irving, the modern popular American novelist influenced by Charles Dickens and Gunther Grass, likes to think of himself as a 19th-century storyteller. But Irving introduces additional elements and style that create an almost eccentric and modern atmosphere.

This, his fourteenth novel, is named after a street in Mexico City. It is a story divided into the two aspects of the life of Juan Diego Guerro. The first, where the heart of the novel lies, is reflections and memories of his young life in Oaxaca in the 1970s. The other is his present journey from Iowa to the Philippines to fulfill a promise.

Tayari Jones in The New York Times Book Review lauds this difference: “John Irving is his own thing, and so is his new novel. Avenue of Mysteries is thoroughly modern, accessibly brainy, hilariously eccentric, and beautifully human.”

Avenue of Mysteries is distinctly different from the more popular Irving novels that come to mind when you hear his name, such as The World According to Garp (1978), The Cider House Rules (1985), or A Prayer for Owen Meany (1989).

Oaxaca Journal, by Oliver Sacks (2002)

From Awakenings (1973) to A Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales (1985), Sacks is best known for case studies of his patients. This British neurologist, naturalist, historian of science and, of course, author wrote nineteen books, many of them bestsellers.

A nature lover, Sacks blessed us with the beautiful Oaxaca Journal after his 2001 visit to the popular state. The book is an adventure in itself, manifesting the marvels of Oaxaca through his expansive point of view.

From the science of astronomy to the flavors of a luscious cuisine, from the dream-evoking waterfalls to the bustling street markets filled with intricate textiles, Sacks bequeaths us his larger perspective via minute details.

Before his death, Saks philosophized, “Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”

Dress Her in Indigo: A Travis McGee Novel, John D. McDonald (1969)

Travis McGee is a household word to faithful McDonald readers. Loyal fans devour each new novel. This one, set in the backlands of Oaxaca, was no exception.

What is the attraction? Fans cite the author’s philosophical and social commentary as their reason to return to each new novel in the series. Dress Her in Indigo centers on a dead woman in a hippie-type community on the outskirts of Oaxaca.

One reader expressed it precisely: “I may never make it to Mexico, but after reading this book set in Mexico – I may not have to.” Another says the story “carries the color and the weight of Mexico on almost every page.”

Oaxaca de Rius, by Eduardo Humberto del Rio García (but known to all in Mexico by his pen name Rius; 2013)

The book boasts 128 eight pages of illustrative delight that explore the traditions, art, and conflicts of Oaxaca. “Drawings, jokes, and notes referring to the state where I live, fleeting impressions,” is how the author himself describes his book.

The sketches offer a glimpse into the gods, customs, churches, Zapotec traditions, festivals, culinary delights, mezcal, and all the rest that makes this state matchless.

Who was Rius? The Mexican government, in the announcement of his death, wrote, “During his lifetime, Rius aimed to contribute to the education and politicization of Mexicans, combat alienation, and foster a critical spirit.”

With Naranjo, Soto, Magú, and other cartoonists, he created Insurgencia popular, the news outlet of the Mexican Workers’ Party (PMT).

Lost in Oaxaca, by Jessica Winters Mireles (2020)

Jessica Winters has done her homework. Most impressive in all the reviews is her understanding and ability to convey the customs and cult ure of this glorious state.

The novel’s plot centers around a schoolteacher in search of her student and a Zapotec man who helps her understand the culture and customs of a society so different from her own, as well as how to view the world in a different light. He helps her navigate the wonders of an unfamiliar culture that is “rugged as the terrain itself.”

On your first or next exploration journey into Oaxaca, heed the advice of a popular song from my youth and “Slow down, you move too fast; you got to make the morning last.”

Soak it all in … and enjoy!

Huatulco

Capturing the Art and Importance of Storytelling: My Ten Favorite Reads of 2024

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By Carole Reedy

The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.
— Alan Bennett, The History Boys (2004)

The long hours I spend reading and thinking about reading are certainly disproportionate to my other daily activities. What I remember most about a book is not so much the plot or even the characters, but rather the way I felt while reading it: the compulsion to keep reading, the heightened emotions evoked by a character’s glance or the fevered pace of a city or a raging river.

I’m convinced that treasured book memories are made from good stories. As Brian Doyle, author of one of the books listed below, so eloquently put it, “The best way to celebrate a people is to share their stories. Stories are who we are, what we are made of” (Chicago: A Novel, 2016).

Long Island Compromise, by Taffy Brodesser-Akner (2024). This chronicle of a New York family is disturbing, realistic, and so vividly frightening at times that the reader may actually share the physical pain of the characters.

The ability of the author to describe the suffering of a drug addict, the lack of self-confidence from uncertainty, or a young sibling’s disgust at the actions of her wealthy family are all brought fully to life in this wide-ranging story.

Brodesser-Akner was the author of the popular novel Fleishman Is in Trouble (2019) which was made into a TV mini-series with Jesse Eisenberg (2022-23). From my point of view, both novels can be categorized as unputdownable and emotionally draining.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin (2023). This emotionally packed novel has been lauded by young and old alike. And even though I’m in the latter cohort, I can attest to the brilliant rendering of the book’s three young gamers over the decades this novel spans.

Perhaps you, as was I, are not current on the lives of gamers or of gaming in general. How can I read, let alone praise, a book whose subject is alien to my experience of life (though isn’t this part of what drives us to read)? That was my initial response to a friend who recommended this book. She encouraged me to try it and I’m grateful I trusted her judgment and followed her advice.

In this book, deeply engrossing characters and their friendships grow over time. Their astute thought processes so enchanted me that I immediately read more novels by this young author.

Zevin’s The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry (2014) should be added to this list of favorite books. I challenge a lover of reading to find fault with this little treasure about a small bookstore on a small island.

Tomás Nevinson, by Javier Marías (2023). This is, sadly, Marías’ final novel. His illustrious writing career was cut short at the age of 70 after a case of pneumonia. Marías’ lengthy sentences and attention to detail consistently delight serious readers and grammarians alike. There is no other writer like him.

One wisely will read the penultimate novel, Berta Isla: A Novel (2019), first, as it sets the stage and plot for this thriller. The duality of two terror organizations, Ireland’s IRA and Spain’s ETA, provides all the color necessary for a tense plot. The characters, as always in a Marías novel, are finely honed.

Praise also goes to Marías’ loyal and constant English translator Margaret Jull Costa, in whom he had the greatest belief. Marías himself spoke excellent English and yet he entrusted this brilliant translator with his creations.

Palimpsest: A Memoir, by Gore Vidal (1995). For many of us, Vidal holds a special place on the bookshelf as a prominent writer of novels, journalist, magazine contributor, political observer, and bon vivant of society in the last half of the 20th century. His wit has consistently transported him to the front of any event or issue.

Vidal, famous for his strict care with words and phrasing, most definitely describes this book not as an autobiography, but as a memoir – a book of memories. Throughout, as one memory sparks others, he precisely recounts the adventure of his talented and privileged life and the famous and prestigious people with whom he rubbed elbows.

There is no greater pleasure than a sentence or phrase penned by Vidal.

Erasure: A Novel, by Percival Everett (2001) looks at societal judgements from a different perspective.

Everett’s main character feels misunderstood not by the white majority but by those in his own community who accuse him of “not being black enough.” Indeed, the subject matter and style of the literature he creates are thought by his fellow people of color not to be typical of them, and thus a betrayal.

What follows depicts the sad state of the publishing industry and a conundrum for our protagonist. How to change his image within his community and what price fame? His daring attempt to address the issue in a freshly written book – complete with twists, turns, humorous surprises, and the public’s response – will stun you.

Everett’s most recent work, James: A Novel (2024) has just won the National Book Award for this year. James was also shortlisted for this year’s Booker Prize.

Snap, by Belinda Bauer (2018) was a surprise choice for the long list by The Booker Prize committee the year it was published.

“It’s the sort of commercial fiction that tends to outsell the rest of the longlist put together but which the Man Booker judges are supposedly too snotty and set in their literary ways to consider,” writes Johanna Thomas Corr in The New Statesman (August 29, 2018). Nonetheless, the committee proved her wrong and nominated Snap for the long list.

This compelling story is based on a true incident: the kidnapping and murder of Marie Wilks, 22, seven months’ pregnant with her fourth child, on the M50 motorway in England. The pace of the text, the heart-stopping emotion, and the rendering of the story of the children left behind places Bauer among the finest of crime writers.

The character depictions are spot on, the writing concise and colorful, and the plot suspenseful. A delightful surprise “find” for this reader.

Knife: Meditations after an Attempted Murder, by Salman Rushdie (2024). Special recognition must be accorded Rushdie, a prolific writer of fascinating stories, for his consistent courage in the wake of attempts to restrain his literary pursuits.

The world watched and lived with the years-long fatwa imposed on the author by the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini after publication of Rushdie’s novel The Satanic Verses (1988).

More recently, Rushdie narrowly survived a knife attack in Connecticut. Knife is the elegantly rendered story of that attack and Rushdie’s unexpected recovery in the midst of his family and dear friends, many of whom are prominent writers and to whom he pours out his sincere emotion and thanks.

This most personal and desperate of stories is deservedly on many best-book lists this year.

Chicago: A Novel, by Brian Doyle (2016). I brimmed with pride while reading this highly personal story of a young man who spends just five seasons in the Second City.

Chicago is the city that owns me. It is my identity, and this book allows the Windy City to shine, if sometimes through the smog, rush-hour traffic, and the usual disruptions of big city living.

Here’s a personal story of a young man who begins his working life at a Catholic magazine in Chicago’s Loop. The days and years follow him through the city’s neighborhoods and more intimately through life at his apartment building, which is filled with eccentric tenants.

The writing is personal, witty, and bursting with the conflicting emotions and excitement of a newcomer to a grand city.

For me, this book was the most satisfying surprise of my year’s reading.

Anita Monte Laughs Last, by Xóchitl González (2024). Here is a story that satisfies on many levels: artistically, politically, and socially.

It tells the tale of two women artists a generation apart, their similarities and differences within the art world and their relationships with men and society. I’m not a fan of magical realism, but González’ use of it in the second half of the book is cerebral, bitingly humorous, and pitch perfect.

If you haven’t read González’s first book, you’re in for a double treat. Olga Dies Dreaming (2021) is the story of a Puerto Rican family in New York that includes anarchist parents, a politically ambitious son, and Olga, who struggles with her own identity as a Latina professional woman.

Both books are richly entertaining while teaching us about our southern neighbors, Cuba and Puerto Rico.

Death at the Sign of the Rook: A Jackson Brodie Book, by Kate Atkinson (2024). A reader’s first reaction to this book might be one of merriment. Many have told me that they laughed out loud while reading it.

Art theft, suspicious caregivers, and an old, privileged family are the entertaining elements that make this a rich and enjoyable read. A troupe of actors adds another humorous element. One friend, however, did share that although engaging and humorous, it was “a little too Agatha Christie” for her. That may intrigue you.

Repeat readers of Atkinson’s novels know to expect the unexpected from her. Subject matter and tone vary from book to book, making each a delightful surprise.

Now we enter 2025, which we hope will deliver a bookbag filled with new novels to while away our hours. On that note, I leave 2024 thinking of Elif Shafak, the Turkish writer and essayist, who reminds us that “We are living in a world in which there is way too much information, but little knowledge and even less wisdom.”

Perhaps our world’s storytellers will rectify the balance in the future.

Huatulco

“You Say You Want a Revolution” — Literature That Imparts History

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By Carole Reedy

Revolution: A forcible overthrow of a government or social order, in favor of a new system.
— Oxford Languages

History written as literature is a popular genre, providing the reader with knowledge of the past in the context of fine writing. American novelist, screenwriter, playwright, and actor Truman Capote created this new way of looking at actual events in his true-crime novel In Cold Blood in 1966.

The following books are among the best examples of this style. Some are recognized as historical fiction and some as nonfiction, but all are written with the style and flair that these well-established writers bring to a subject. Each covers a different and significant period and place in time. Reading them not only allows us to engage with the past, but also gives us the opportunity to reflect on its effect on our daily life and decisions.

Revolution, by Arturo Pérez-Reverte (2022)
“All my life I heard at home the story of that friend of my great-grandfather, a mining engineer, who worked in Mexico in the midst of the revolution. That remote memory has brought me closer to my own relationship with adventure and has led me to write this story. It is a novel of initiation and learning and is, in some way, my own biography of youth. It is my Golden Arrow.” Arturo Pérez-Reverte

Revolution is among the 30-some Pérez-Reverte (1951 – ) novels that readers devour every year. His popularity seems easy to grasp. Since we all suspect that truth is stranger than fiction, his preferred genre, historical fiction, resonates with people of all classes and cultures worldwide. Pérez-Reverte combines plot and characterization to perfection, often including a dollop of humor.

The Revolution in question here is our own Mexican Revolution (1910-1921) in the time of Zapata and Pancho Villa. The focus is not simply on fighting and war, but rather on finding a treasure consisting of 15,000 twenty-peso Maximilian gold coins that had been stolen from a bank in Ciudad Juárez in 1911.

One reader praises the breadth of the book: Pérez-Reverte “takes us through important episodes such as the capture of Ciudad Juárez, the Ten Tragic Days, the battles of Zacatecas and Celaya. The narrative is so good that one is transported in places and times to understand a process as complex as the Mexican Revolution. Highly recommended reading.”

Pérez-Reverte is Spanish, born in Cartagena, Spain, and while many of his novels concern Spain and the Mediterranean, his books are read in more than 50 countries. As you celebrate the Mexican Revolution this November 20, crack open this important read!

Hilary Mantel (1952-2022) asserted that “We don’t reproduce the past, we create it.” In 2017, Mantel gave the Reith Lectures (the BBC’s annual lecture series featuring significant intellectual figures).  Addressing “the aims, ideals, constraints and critiques of historical fiction, and the challenges that writers face,” Mantel observed that readers are “actively requesting a subjective interpretation” of the historical evidence.  The writer’s job is “to recreate the texture of lived experience: to activate the senses, and to deepen the reader’s engagement through feeling”
Many of us deeply enjoyed Mantel’s three novels Wolf Hall (2009), Bring Up the Bodies (2012), and The Mirror and the Light (2020), which transported us, through the eyes of the ever-crafty Thomas Cromwell, into Henry the Eighth’s tumultuous kingdom.
Mantel’s sometimes forgotten novels live up to the esteemed reputation she enjoyed after the publication of the Cromwell trilogy. Among her earlier works and one of the most formidable, A Place of Greater Safety ensconces us in the French Revolution though the eyes of its three heroes. It is my favorite of her many powerful novels.
It’s hard to believe Mantel had trouble finding a publisher for this significant contribution to the literature of the French Revolution. By telling us the complicated history of the Revolution through the eyes of Georges Jacques Danton, Camille Desmoulins, and Maximilien Robespierre, Mantel humanizes the major players on both sides, allowing us to relate to them and to the Revolution itself.
“Hilary shares her strict adherence to historical facts; her frustration with the gaps in the historical record; and her preoccupation with French 18th-century drawing room wallpaper. She explains how familiar events from history can be transformed into surprising new dramas when a point of view is changed; and how the unknowns – what her characters think or feel – is where her creativity did its work” (author Katie Ward, “Hilary Mantel was my mentor. Here are seven things she taught me about writing – and life,” The Guardian [September 19, 2024]).

Age of Revolutions: Progress and Backlash from 1600 to the Present, by Fareed Zakaria (2024)
Most of us recognize Zakaria (1964 – ) as the face of CNN’s popular show Fareed Zakaria GPS (Global Public Square). You may also have read his popular column in The Washington Post or seen his profile on the jacket of his books. Zakaria inspires trust, and his faithful admirers look to him for guidance in our complicated world.

This significant book covers five centuries of history to explain the world’s current state of affairs. It advises us to understand how the French Revolution, the Industrial Revolution, and the American Revolution affect our current situation.

Evelyn Waugh wrote in Brideshead Revisited: “We possess nothing certainly except the past.” And it is this from which we must learn, although it doesn’t appear we are doing a very good job of it.

Another Day of Life, by Ryszard Kapuściński (Polish edition 1976, English translation 1987)
There is nothing more satisfying than discovering an author whose creations spark curiosity about the conditions of other cultures. For years the Polish journalist, writer, poet, and essayist Kapuściński (1932-2007) gave us a wealth of knowledge and, more importantly, a glimpse into the suffering of “the other.”

He could also be correctly crowned the king of revolutions, having reported in his lifetime on 27 revolutions, mostly in Africa and the Middle East.

In 1975 Kapuscinski reported on the civil war following independence in Angola. His book Another Day of Life describes the “sloppy, dogged and cruel war.” An animated film was made from the book. Both book and movie demonstrate the abysmal effect of war on the populations that suffer through them.

Kapuscinski is best known for The Emperor: Downfall of an Autocrat (1978), the story of the 40-plus year reign of Haile Selassie in Ethiopia. Observations related to Kapuscinski by those who worked for Selassie or lived during his rule describe a man who lived like a king among the neglected population that served him.

In another gem, the story of the infamous Shah of Iran is told in his best-selling Shah of Shahs (1992), which assesses the reign of the Shah of Iran and his exit from the country.

In Ryszard Kapuściński, the Nobel Prize committee once again missed the opportunity to recognize an important writer who traveled and reported on world areas in the turmoil of revolution.

Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland, by Patrick Radden Keefe (2019)
The Irish Revolutionary Army dominated the world news for years in the 1980s and 90s, though its many factions and rumors of the era can be confusing. Through a main story and its accompanying sidebars in this marvelously crafted piece of literature, Radden Keefe sets up and describes this era from a variety of perspectives, via the citizens involved as well as the hidden nuances that make up this history.

The true and brutal action begins on the first page with the kidnapping of Jean McConville, a mother of ten wee weans in Belfast, Ireland, in 1972. From there the story expands into a narrative that includes an explanation of the seemingly endless conflicts in Ireland.

Recognizable major players are highlighted in this long history of clashes between Catholics and Protestants, as well as the presence of the British government in the north of the island. Through the actions of Gerry Adams, Bobby Sands, and Dolours Price, the story of the various factions is told.

Radden Keefe (1976 – ) is well regarded for his accurate account of pertinent historical eras and the people behind the history. The book was named one of the top ten books of 2019 by both The New York Times Book Review and The Washington Post. It won the 2019 National Book Critics Circle Award for nonfiction. Radden Keefe knows how to take facts and weave a story of grand proportion that kept this reader on the very edge of her seat.

Radden Keefe’s Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty (2021) received well-deserved attention more recently, as did the book-based Netflix series Painkiller (2023); both tell the story of how the pharmaceutical industry created a nationwide opioid addiction for its own profit.

¡VIVA LA REVOLUCIÓN!

 

Huatulco

From Book to Movie: The Best of Both Worlds

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By Carole Reedy

We often hear it said that a movie was good, but the book was better, the film version seldom exceeding or even equaling a book’s impact on us. Here I propose a few exceptions to the rule. Each of the books below depicts life in Mexico; each was written by an established literary author and has been carefully crafted into an entertaining movie that also illuminates the author’s original purpose.

Prayers for the Stolen, by Jennifer Clement (2020)
Film: Prayers for the Stolen (2021, written and directed by Tatiana Huezo)

Jennifer Clement is a name every reader of Mexican literature should know. Former President of PEN Mexico, as well as the first and only woman President of PEN International, Clement continues to investigate and dissect the culture, problems, history, and joys of this land, one of the most culturally diverse and mysterious, and yet friendliest, countries in the world.

At the same time, Clement is a woman of the world who has experienced life on both sides of the border. Clement’s themes are diverse, perhaps due to the adventurous and culturally rich life she leads. Her books are always recommended in this column, and she is a highly regarded citizen of CDMX.

Clement’s newest book, The Promised Party: Kahlo, Basquiat, and Me, is hot off the press (May 2024). It is her own story of her rebellious childhood (the only girl to get booted out of Girl Guides!) in Mexico City to her New York adventures with famous artists. Her antics take you to all the nooks and crannies of Mexico City and New York: a wonderful guide and history of these two preeminent cities wrapped up in a cleverly crafted memoir.

Prayers for the Stolen takes us from the remote hills of the state of Guerrero to the ritzy coast of Acapulco and ends in the magical megalopolis of Mexico City. It’s about a life lived under the shadow of the narcotraficantes that dominate and ruin the future of women they kidnap even if the girls are lucky enough to escape.

Clement’s depiction of and empathy with the seemingly hopeless situation are genuine. She has visited these women in Mexico City’s worst prison to hear the stories of the narco presence in their communities: the fear if they stay or the equally dangerous prospect of running away, sometimes only to an equal or even worse fate. Clement’s style is reminiscent of that of Truman Capote or Tom Wolfe, pioneers of a “new journalism” in which the author writes from the inside out instead of viewing the subject from afar. Her Widow Basquiat: A Love Affair (the 2014 “prequel” to The Promised Party) is a fine example of this.

The movie version of Prayers for The Stolen (Noche del Fuego) can be seen on Netflix. It has received more than 20 international awards: Cannes Film Festival, Un Certain Regard, Honorific Mention; Best Director, Best Picture, Athens Film Festival; Best director, Stockholm International; Best Mexican Feature, Guanajuato Film Festival.

Battles in the Desert, by José Emilio Pacheco (1981)
Film: Mariana, Mariana (1987, written by Pacheco and Vicente Leñero, directed by Alberto Isaac)

Among my favorite Mexican stories is this novella written 43 years ago by one of the nation’s most treasured writers. The book is to Mexican culture what J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye (1951) or Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird (1960) is to American life. New York Times book critic Molly Young perhaps said it best: “How can such a tiny novella contain so many lessons on perception?”

The novel is set in 1948 in the now trendy Mexico City neighborhood of La Roma, Pacheco’s childhood home. Through the eyes of a young boy named Carlos, we experience a changing city, moving from the traditional values of his family to a global modernization of the culture and world around him.

The award-winning movie version, Mariana, Mariana, was filmed in part in La Roma. A commenter on MUBI, a site that specializes in art films, noted that “Literary films are difficult, but Isaac nails this one, and doesn’t hesitate to add some extra flourishes: Freudian psychotherapy…; the growth of the city and the demolition of the old Roma Norte; the 1985 earthquake; gringo invasion; the senescence of the Revolutionary state and its descent into dirty politics, embezzlement, and inequity.” Mariana, Mariana is available for viewing on Amazon Prime.

Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel (1989)
Film: Like Water for Chocolate (1992, written by Esquivel, directed by Alfonso Arau)

This is one title that probably came to fame first as a movie and afterwards as a popular novel, despite the book’s being published a couple of years before the film was made. The film proved to be a box office hit. Years ago, I was advised by my favorite Spanish teacher that my spoken Spanish would never improve without writing and reading. One of the first novels she assigned me to read in Spanish was Like Water for Chocolate.

Most dominant and significant in the learning process was my introduction to the subjective (not a tense, but a mood) in Spanish. Shadows of the book still cloud my mind when reading or speaking the subjunctive. I also recommend Leonora by Elena Poniatowska (2015) as a good tool for Spanish students. This novelization of the fascinating life of Leonara Carrington is unequaled and will compel you to master the Spanish.

The book and movie style of Like Water for Chocolate is magical realism in a nation at the beginning of the 20th century, a time of turmoil. Tradition and the family figure predominately, as does the Mexican Revolution.

The movie earned ten awards at Mexico’s Oscars, the Ariel Awards, including Best Picture, and a Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Like Water for Chocolate was the highest-grossing foreign language film shown in the U.S. up to that time. It remains at #10.

The Old Gringo, by Carlos Fuentes (1985)
Film: Old Gringo (1989, written by Aida Bortnik and Luis Puenzo, directed by Puenzo)

Carlos Fuentes is undoubtedly one of the most influential and universally respected authors in Mexican literature. In his obituary, the New York Times described Fuentes as “one of the most admired writers in the Spanish-speaking world” and an important influence on the “Latin American Boom,” the “explosion of Latin American literature in the 1960s and ’70s.” Fuentes was often regarded as a likely candidate for the Nobel Prize for Literature, but sadly, as with Javier Marías and Philip Roth, an untimely death intervened.

The Old Gringo was more successful as a novel than the film, which starred Gregory Peck, Jane Fonda, and Jimmy Smits. Fuentes has said, “What started this novel was my admiration for [American journalist Ambrose Bierce] and for his Tales of Soldiers and Civilians [orig. pub. 1892]. I was fascinated with the idea of a man who fought in the United States Civil War and dies in a Mexican civil war.”

And that is exactly what Fuentes gives us in this exciting historical and tragic chapter in Mexican history.

Pedro Páramo, by Juan Rulfo (1955)
Film: Pedro Páramo (1967, written by Rulfo, Carlos Fuentes, and Manuel Barbachano Ponce; directed by Carlos Velo.

Pedro Páramo is THE classic novel of Mexican literature; remarkably, it was Rulfo’s first novel.

“I came to Comala because I was told that my father, a certain Pedro Páramo, lived here. My mother told me this. And I promised her that I would come to see him as soon as she died.” Every Mexican knows these opening sentences of the novel.

Writers like Jorge Luis Borges, Gabriel García Márquez, and Susan Sontag cite Pedro Páramo as one of the most significant works of literature of all time. A survey of writers and students worldwide by the Nobel Prize Institute of Sweden included it as one of the 100 works that constitute the core of the universal heritage of literature.

Gabriel García Márquez claimed he could recite the entire book cover to cover, demonstrating the importance of this short novel in his own writing.

The story appears to be straightforward: a man returning to a once-thriving city that now appears to be ghost town, along with the people who inhabit it. But it is Rulfo’s nonlinear style and form that capture the essence of the tale. You may find yourself confused – which characters are dead, which alive? Time shifts, as does the flow of memory, as we are absorbed into the world of Pedro Páramo.

Ironically, the book sold very few copies when published, and fame came only later. You can view the film on Netflix; to this day, it receives excellent reviews, though most viewers suggest you read the book first. A new version of the film has been produced by Netflix; written by Mateo Gil and directed by Rodrigo Prieto, it premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September. It will be released on Netflix later this year.

Hurricane Season, by Fernanda Melchor (2017)
Film: Hurricane Season (2023, written by Melchor, Daniela Gómez, and Elisa Miller; directed by Elisa Miller)

The death of a witch is a hell of a way to begin a novel. But Fernanda Melchor knows just where she’s going with a story that takes place in a small village in coastal Veracruz.

Written in a Faulkneresque style (Melchor abhors periods) with a touch of Chilean author Roberto Bolaño, the novel recounts in a “linguistic torrent” and hypnotic rhythm the story of how and why the witch lived and died in a desperately poor little Mexican town. Most reviews recognize Melchor’s command of the language in her use of rough language to describe violence and depravity and her ability to express pain and despair. Equal praise has been showered on her English translator, Sophie Hughes.

The story is told by four “unreliable narrators,” that is, people who have only a partial, often distorted, view of what’s going on as local citizens attempt to determine who killed the witch and how to handle the extreme evil lurking everywhere.

To give you an example of the popularity of this novel, I am currently on a 20-week waitlist for the English translation. You can view the equally regarded film on Netflix.

“One glance at a book and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for 1,000 years. To read is to voyage through time.” – Carl Sagan

Huatulco

Mexican Films Streaming on your TV

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By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

Those of us who love Mexican cinema but spend months away from Mexico have an excellent source for fulfilling our yen for Mexican film – namely, Netflix. The films available for streaming on Netflix come and go, and differ from country to country, but there are always ample choices. For primarily English speakers the subtitles available on Netflix offer an easier experience than seeing the movie in Mexico.

Some of the best known films that have won worldwide acclaim are 100% Mexican, including geographical location, direction, casting, Spanish language, and especially creative imagination. An excellent relatively recent example is the 2018 dramatic film Roma, directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Winning many international awards, Roma accurately depicts a well-known neighborhood of Mexico City in the 1970s.

Other Netflix films that we consider Mexican have Mexican directors who are internationally acclaimed but take place only partially in Mexico. One such film is the 2006 psychological thriller Babel, directed by Alejandro Gonzáles Iñarritu. In addition to Spanish, Babel includes seven other spoken languages, plus Japanese sign language. Two top-notch films, Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) and The Shape of Water (2017), can only be considered Mexican by virtue of their director, Guillermo del Toro. Del Toro’s films are literally fantastic, compelling, and so rooted in an imagination shaped by his childhood in Guadalajara that we would call them Mexican even though some might argue with that classification. On the other hand, the film Gravity (2013), although also directed by Alfonso Cuarón, seems more American than Mexican.

But enough about the blockbusters. The films that we have been most enjoying on Netflix are little, low-budget glimpses into solidly Mexican characters in recognizably Mexican locations. We both liked the 2023 film Familia, directed by Rodrigo García. Filmed in the Valle de Guadalupe in Ensenada, the action takes place in a single day in the home and olive grove of the patriarch of a three-generation dispersed family. We learn that the family gets together once a month for comida, but at this gathering everyone’s life is so suddenly changing that difficult decisions must be made. The characters are complex and charming, even when they become irritated with each other. Gradually, by listening to their conversations around the table, you realize the depth and substance of each family member and their relationships. By the end of the film, as most characters leave, you know you’re going to miss them.

Marcia liked Where the Tracks End (El Ultimo Vagon, 2023, directed by Ernesto Contreras), while Jan thought it was a snooze. The film predominantly takes place in an abandoned railroad car, fitted out as a schoolhouse. It is slow-moving but charmingly develops the relationship between a child of an itinerant railroad track layer and a teacher whose whole life is dedicated to educating some of the most impoverished children in Mexico. There are both tragic and comic moments, and the film unabashedly pulls at your heart strings. The ending provides a satisfying twist.

The film Tell Me When (Dime Cuando Tú, 2020, directed by Gerardo Gatica González) is a light, feel-good movie about a young man living in Los Angeles. His grandfather leaves him a list of experiences that the grandson is urged to complete in Mexico City. Most of the film takes place in iconic areas in CDMX and focuses on his determination to complete the list, including the last item (spoiler alert!) falling in love. But don’t expect a Hollywood ending: it’s a Mexican film after all.

There are plenty of Mexican films on Netflix to keep us happily watching for many years, but confining ourselves to Netflix would mean missing other Mexican treasures that are available on other streaming apps. Most notable are two films directed by John Huston. We first saw one of them in a cultural center in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas– The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948, starring Humphrey Bogart). The second is The Night of the Iguana (1964, starring Richard Burton and Eva Gardner) which in Tennessee Williams’ version takes place in Acapulco but was actually filmed in Mismaloya near Puerto Vallarta (less well known at the time). But also definitely not to be missed is an early Cuarón international blockbuster Y Tu Mamá Tambien (2001). Y Tu is superficially about a road trip from Mexico City to coastal Oaxaca but also is a turn-of-this-century exploration of the concept that gender is not binary.

If you enjoy films as we do and enjoy a bit of Mexico when you’re away, just stream one of the movies we mentioned. Happy watching.

 

Huatulco

From Fields to Films: How Popcorn Became a Global Movie Theater Staple

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By Kary Vannice

What is more synonymous with cinema than popcorn? For most, the mere smell of popcorn conjures up images of dimming lights, hushed theaters, and the blissful escape of uninterrupted entertainment. But how did popcorn become so ubiquitous in movie theaters around the world?

Corn itself was discovered as a wild grass in southern Mexico around 10,000 years ago. Once domesticated, it quickly became the core of the Mexican diet for foods like tortillas, tamales, and the corn-based drink atole, but the origins of popcorn are still up for debate.

Popcorn – from Its Origins to the Theater

Some historians claim that popcorn originated in Peru, where it is known that the Aztecs used it as offerings to their gods, believing the popping sound represented the spirits of their ancestors being released. It was also used to decorate clothing and headdresses in that region. Others argue that the oldest evidence of popped corn is from modern-day New Mexico (which was part of Mexico at the time), where 5,600-year-old intact ears of popcorn were found.

The journals of early French explorers in the 1600s document being introduced to popcorn by the Iroquois people in the Great Lakes region of the United States and Canada. Colonial families soon adopted popcorn into their diets, eating it for breakfast with milk and sugar—making popcorn not only a modern-day cinema snack but also one of the original breakfast cereals!

By the 1800s, popcorn had become a popular holiday decoration due to its low cost and festive shape. One of the first commercial popcorn ventures was Cracker Jack in the 1870s. By the 1900s, popcorn was being popped in many American homes and was a favorite snack at festivals, fairs, and sporting events. But it wasn’t something you could munch in a movie theater until the Great Depression. During Hollywood’s Golden Age of Cinema, kicked off by the “talkies” in the 1920s, theater owners felt that popcorn was too lowbrow for the refined movie-going experience, and they refused to sell it in cinemas. However, after the financial crash, when fewer people were attending movies, theater operators discovered that selling popcorn helped keep their doors open due to its accessibility and affordability.

Upscaling Popcorn

Popcorn has remained a mainstay in movie theaters since the 1930s. Buckets of buttery popcorn are still available around the world today, but in some regions, this humble kernel has been elevated to culinary heights that reflect local tastes and traditions.

Standard popcorn selections in most theaters now include cheddar cheese, caramel, or sweet kettle corn. In Mexico, you can also get popcorn mixed with other snacks like Cheetos, Doritos, and Takis, adding a spicy, crunchy twist to the classic snack.

In Japan, you’ll find popcorn in flavors like honey, milk tea, curry, and corn potage, reflecting the country’s penchant for sweet and savory blends. Indian theaters offer more exotic options, such as miso soup, Za’atar, Thai red coconut, and anchovy garlic popcorn, infusing global spices into every bite. In the Caribbean, coconut lime popcorn, made with coconut oil, lime zest, and salt, offers a refreshing tropical flavor. Ethiopia’s Berbere popcorn is a spicy, aromatic delight made with a traditional Ethiopian spice blend that includes chili peppers, paprika, and ginger. The Philippines adds a punch with barbeque or wasabi powder, while European theaters take it to another level with gourmet additions like truffles and grated Parmesan.

Whether you’re a popcorn purist—”straight butter, please”—or someone who enjoys elevating your popcorn experience with unique flavors, popcorn and movies have become so intertwined that even in the age of streaming, popping a bowl of popcorn can instantly transform a regular night into a full-fledged “movie night” experience.

Popcorn’s evolution from an ancient snack to a global cinema staple is a testament to its adaptability and universal appeal. From sacred offerings and breakfast bowls to buckets at the movies, popcorn has grown into a timeless part of the movie experience. It’s more than just a snack; it’s a piece of cinema history—a symbol of enjoyment, nostalgia, and shared moments that connect us all, one kernel at a time.

Huatulco

Power of the Press: The True Heroes of the Mexican Revolution

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By Carole Reedy

“It is a newspaper’s duty to print the news and raise hell.”
― Harold Holzer, Lincoln and the Power of the Press: The War for Public Opinion

The quotation above accurately describes how the press exposed the abuses of the Porfirio Díaz government (1876-1910), leading eventually to its decline and the establishment of a new democratic Mexico. The journalists and newspapers of that era have been described as the “true authors” of the Mexican Revolution.

It was not a short journey. The Revolution and struggle for power lasted for ten years, and the repercussions and discontent in the country lasted even longer.

The seeds of revolution were planted by the press and the Flores Magón brothers, as well as by other journalists and periodicals of the era beginning in the late 1800s and early 1900s.

REGENERATION, A NEWSPAPER
The newspaper was the creation of the Flores Magón brothers – Enrique, Jesús, and Ricardo – lawyers by day and journalists by night. It called for a return to the principles of Mexico’s 1857 constitution: free elections, free press, and term limits, all of which had been conveniently forgotten during the 30-year reign of President Porfirio Díaz.

They called the Díaz administration a “den of thieves,” thieves of land, wages, life, and democracy. On August 7, 1900, Antonio Horcasitas and the Flores Magón brothers published the first issue of Regeneration.

Ricardo Flores once said: “Paper is an idol to me, and I think that will soon be my great weapon.”

The mission of Regeneration was “to seek remedies and, where necessary, to point out and denounce all of the misdeeds of public officers who do not follow the precepts of the law, so that public shame brings upon them the justice they deserve.” The focus of most of the articles centered on misconduct of the police, lawyers, and judges.

Porfirio Díaz was not always a despot. In 1857 he supported the principles of the new Mexican constitution and those of Benito Juárez. But once he gained the power of the presidency in 1876, Díaz gradually became authoritarian, favoring land grabbing by rich (often foreign) land owners and industrialists. He was never criticized by the press. Regeneration even accused him of “muzzling the press.”
In 1904 Regeneration and the Flores Magón brothers were forced to leave Mexico for fear of arrest for their radical views. They fled north of the border, where they continued to publish their paper in various US cities, smuggling copies back to Mexico weekly to their 26,000 loyal readers. “Tyranny has thrown us out of our country, forcing us to seek liberty on foreign soil.”

During their exile in the US, political differences deepened among the brothers. Jesús split from Ricardo and Enrique, who had adopted anarchist ideas. Jesús returned to Mexico in 1910 to edit – along with Antonio I. Villarreal – a moderate version of the newspaper Regeneración in Mexico City. Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, brothers Enrique and Ricardo continued to publish their radical version.

The story doesn’t end here, however. For the complete telling, do read Bad Mexicans: Race, Empire, and Revolution in the Borderlands by Kelly Lytle Hernández (2023), an excellent rendering of and resource on the Mexican Revolution and the Magonistas, named one of the best books of 2022 by The New Yorker and winner of the Bancroft Prize.

VESPER AND FIAT LUX, AND OTHERS
Juana Belén Gutiérrez de Mendoza, known as “The Progresista,” was one of the most prominent woman activists pushing for change during the Mexican Revolution. She authored both feminist and radical political literature for 45 years.

In 1901, she became the first woman to publish and edit a periodical that decried the abuses of the government of Porfirio Díaz, along with his legislators and judges, as well as the powers of the church and the state. She has been called “our Joan of Arc,” and the Flores Magón brothers in their newspaper Regeneración supported her journalistic work calling for freedom for all people.

Gutiérrez de Mendoza was constantly imprisoned by Díaz for her stances, but she kept on fighting for the workers, being a particular supporter of Emiliano Zapata and his causes, among them The Plan de Ayala. Her publications were shut down nearly 40 times by the government, eventually leading her to do as the Flores Magón brothers had and move her operation north of the border. She eventually returned to Mexico and continued to pursue her convictions.

Gutiérrez de Mendoza also wrote with and for other women, some of whom she met in prison. Many of her articles centered on the mistreatment by the church and state of the indigenous population in Mexico. Mistreatment of miners was another of her principal concerns. ¡Por la Tierra, Por la Raza! (For the Earth, For the Race! 1924) is one of her more popular and significant publications.

Some of the women Gutiérrez met in prison became her partners in publishing. One of these was Dolores Jiménez y Muro, from Aguascalientes, a former teacher and writer in rural Mexico. In 1902 Jiménez moved to Mexico City, where she wrote and published articles against the Díaz regime. She was promptly arrested and imprisoned, but that didn’t halt her radical activities. Gutiérrez and Jiménez, along with other women prisoners, published a radical journal Fiat Lux (Let There Be Light). Jiménez also joined the staff of another leftist periodical, La Mujer Mexicana.

Elisa Acuña Rossetti, one of their associates from prison, also had been a rural teacher in Hidalgo. She worked with the Flores Magón brothers on the newspaper El Hijo de Ahuizote in Mexico City and co-founded and wrote in Vesper and Fiat Lux.

EL HIJO DE AHUIZOTE
This is one of the most critical publications regarding the reign of Porfirio Díaz. It first appeared in 1885 and was packed with political cartoons and satirical writings. In 1903 the paper reported “La Constitución ha muerto” (The Constitution has died).

Ahuizote is derived from a Nahuatl word for an otter or water dog, an animal that takes its place in Mexican mythology. “Ahuízot a(tl),”means water, and “huiz(tli),” means thorn – it is often translated as “the annoying one,” and hijo (son) of the ahuizote would be a pain.

Started by Daniel Cabrera, Manuel Pérez Bibbins, and Juan Sarabia, the periodical was taken over in 1902 by our old friends Ricardo and Enrique Flores Magón. The Díaz administration promptly shut down the operation, seizing the equipment and arresting the Flores Magón brothers. It would not be their first or last arrest.

To learn even more about the Mexican Revolution and the men and women behind it, I suggest on your next visit to Mexico City that you visit the National Museum of the Revolution, located in the National Monument of the Revolution.

It’s conveniently located just one Metrobus stop north of Paseo de la Reforma on Avenida Insurgentes. There you’ll find a stunning building with an elevator to take you to the top for a spectacular overall view of the city. On a lower floor is the Museum of the Revolution, where a basic timeline helps you understand, in a clear format, the series of events that led up to and occurred during and after the Revolution. This is essential to understanding present-day Mexico.

There you will also find more extensive information about the people and periodicals from this article.

Huatulco

Editor’s Letter

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By Jane Bauer

“The savanna hypothesis
addresses the issue of how we select places to
live and why we find some landscapes more beautiful than others. The central argument is that our preferences in this domain were shaped over evolutionary time through the repeated selection of safe and healthy environments over dangerous
and resource poor landscapes.”
Kevin Bennett
Department of Psychology, Pennsylvania State

On a podcast I listened to recently, the interviewee suggested that each of us has a landscape that defines us. I hadn’t thought of looking at the world this way but it made a lot of sense. The chef being interviewed talked about his pull towards certain types of food and certain landscapes which, if he looked back far enough, were a part of his ancestry.

I wondered, what landscape am I? Where do I feel most at home? What are the sensations I crave; open desert spaces, high mountains, plains with grasses, the woods or the wide ocean and a sandy beach?

I didn’t have to think too hard. I am drawn to the forest and the jungle. I yearn to feel dwarfed by an army of majestic trees, small dirt paths, and rocky rivers that cleave and twist their the way between hills. I love seeing sunlight speckled through canopies of tree branches, Japanese has a word for this: komorebi.

When people ask me how I got here, I tell them about that first visit and the people I met. That something made me want to return, I try and find the words for it but they always seem to slip away. I don’t mention the landscape because it sounds sort of silly and fantastical, but that is what it really was. I came to this seam where the mountains kiss the ocean, it closed me in between the lapping waves and the darkness of its forest. It beckoned me down dirt paths and up river beds and waterfalls. Stay with me it said and I did.

This month our writers explore outdoor pursuits. We hope it encourages you to do a little exploring. If it does, please let us know via email or on our socials.

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Happy Exploring!

Web Cover photo by Ryan Murray Photo