Tag Archives: The Arts

Huatulco

Salma Hayek: A Celebration of Excellence in Hollywood

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By Brooke O’Connor

Who doesn’t like Salma Hayek? Her journey from Mexico’s vibrant streets to Hollywood’s glittering lights is not just a tale of triumph, but a testament to the tapestry of Mexican talent that has enriched the film world for decades.

Born on September 2, 1966, in Coatzacoalcos, Veracruz, Mexico, Hayek’s roots run deep in the heart of Mexican culture. Raised in a household steeped in tradition, she developed a passion for storytelling from an early age, immersing herself in the vibrant Mexican folklore and history that would later inspire her work on screen.

Salma’s family has been very supportive and gave her the opportunities she needed to be successful. Her father is Lebanese, a business owner, and a wealthy oil executive. Her mother is of Spanish descent, an opera singer, and a talent scout. Her parents are devout Catholics and sent Salma to the Academy of the Sacred Heart in Grand Coteau, Louisiana. There, she was diagnosed with dyslexia, but it didn’t stop her from going on to Universidad Iberoamericana in Mexico City, where she studied international relations.

Her foray into acting began in the bustling streets of CDMX, where she honed her craft in the theater scene before making her mark in Mexican telenovelas.

Hayek’s first television role was in the 1988 TV series Nuevo Amanecer (New Dawn), for which she was nominated for the TVyNovelas award for Best New Actress. Hayek was 23 years old when Televisa cast her in the title role of Teresa (1989-91), one of Mexico’s most successful telenovelas, which established her as a star in the country. The show ran for two seasons and 125 episodes, and she won the 1990 Best New Actress award. With Teresa, she first captured the hearts of viewers with her talent and magnetism, setting the stage for a beautiful career in Hollywood.

Her transition to the United States in the early 1990s marked a pivotal moment in Salma Hayek’s career. Faced with a barrage of skepticism and discrimination due to her Mexican heritage and accent, Hayek encountered many obstacles on her path to success, including her dyslexia. Rather than allowing these challenges to hinder her progress, she confronted them head-on with unwavering determination and resilience.

Her breakthrough came with the 1995 action-packed thriller Desperado, where she captivated audiences with her fiery performance opposite Antonio Banderas. It was a role that showcased her formidable talent, shattered stereotypes, and challenged perceptions of Latinx actors in Hollywood. The people in Hollywood who said her accent would only land her roles as a maid were silenced.

Since then, Hayek has continued to push boundaries and defy expectations with each new project she undertakes. In 2003, she became one of the first Latinas to be nominated for Best Actress by the American film industry’s Academy Awards, the first Mexican actress to be nominated for Best Actress by the BAFTA (British Academy of Film and Television) awards; she was also nominated for Best Actress at the Golden Globes (the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, which has a long history of awards to Latin actors).

Hayek garnered these nominations for her portrayal of the iconic Mexican painter Frida Kahlo in the biographical drama Frida (2002), a crowning achievement in her illustrious career. Bringing Kahlo’s tumultuous life and indomitable spirit to the screen was no small feat, but Hayek approached the role with a fierce dedication and reverence for the artist’s legacy. Immersing herself in Kahlo’s world, Hayek captured the essence of the enigmatic painter. This authenticity resonated deeply with audiences and critics alike. From Kahlo’s fiery passion to her unyielding resilience, Hayek embodied every facet of the artist’s complex personality with a rare grace and nuance. Not only did her performance earn her widespread acclaim, including the three award nominations, but she also served as a producer for the film.

From her iconic performance in Frida to her powerful roles in films like Traffic (2000) and Once Upon a Time in Mexico (2003), she has become a symbol of Mexican excellence in Hollywood. She has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and many other accolades.

Yet, despite her global success, Hayek remains deeply connected to her Mexican roots. Whether she’s showcasing Mexico’s vibrant colors and rhythms in her film productions or using her influence to support Mexican filmmakers and artists, she continues to be a proud ambassador for her homeland.

But perhaps her most significant contribution lies in her efforts to uplift marginalized voices in the industry. As an outspoken advocate for gender equality and diversity, she has used her platform to spotlight Mexican culture and heritage, ensuring that future generations of Latinx artists can share their stories with the world.

Salma Hayek’s philanthropic endeavors extend beyond the realm of cinema. Her charitable work includes raising awareness on issues such as violence against women and discrimination against immigrants. She is also a staunch advocate for the naturalness of breastfeeding and women’s rights to feed their children in public without restriction. In a powerful display of her commitment to these causes, Hayek testified before the U.S. Senate Committee on the Judiciary in support of reauthorizing the Violence Against Women Act in 2005.

Additionally, she has made substantial financial contributions to organizations that combat domestic violence, including a $25,000 donation to a shelter for battered women in the town of her birth, Coatzacoalcos, and a $50,000 donation to anti-domestic violence groups in Monterrey. As a board member of V-Day, the charity founded by playwright Eve Ensler, Hayek continues to champion women’s and girls’ rights worldwide.

On top of being a champion for women, Salma has a soft spot for animals. She reportedly has up to 50 animals, including rescue dogs, horses, rabbits, geese, chickens, and an owl with whom she meditates daily.

Although Time magazine named Salma one of the 100 most influential people in the world in 2023, many people criticize her for marrying a man who happens to be a billionaire. They have been married for 15 years and together for 18 years. In 2007, Salma, 41 years old, gave birth to a healthy daughter. Some people rumored it was an arranged marriage, but Salma has always defended their relationship, saying how much she dearly loves him. She has an uncanny way of letting criticism roll off her back.

Salma has always done things her way and has held on to beauty and grace while doing it. She has never taken herself too seriously while at the same time living life seriously. I’m reminded of her words, “People always underestimate me. But if you stick around long enough, act out of conviction, and try to be honorable in everything you do, good things will come to you.”

Huatulco

Writers of Literature and Social Consciousness

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By Carole Reedy

This month let’s talk about fierce Mexican women writers who scrutinize the varied plights of humankind, their words dissecting and analyzing society and human behavior. All have the ability to keenly observe, be it in a novel, short story, or essay, offering the reader fresh perspectives with which to view the world.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
A main contributor to the Spanish Golden Age of Literature (c. 1492-1659 or 1681, depending on who’s defining it), Sor Juana is today still recognized as one of the most important women writers of Spanish and Mexican literature.

Born near Mexico City as Juana de Asuaje y Ramírez de Santillana, a discrepancy exists, even today, concerning her birthdate. There is record of two baptisms, one under the name Juana in 1648 and the other in the name of Inés in 1651.

Sor Juana’s life was a constant battle to get an education not only for herself but for all women. She was active from an early age in her struggle to be educated. As a little girl she often hid in the hacienda’s chapel in order to read her grandfather’s books.

Recognized as a child prodigy, she was educated at home and could read and write in Latin by age three. She wrote her first poem at eight. Although she wanted to enter the university disguised as a male, her mother denied the request while continuing her private teaching at home.

In 1667 Sor Juana entered a nunnery and dedicated her life to writing prose and poetry about feminism, love, and religion. The convent was the only path open to her to enable “no fixed occupation, which might curtail my freedom to study.”

One of the most significant and recommended books about Sor Juana was written by Nobel Prize winner Octavio Paz, entitled Sor Juana: or The Traps of Faith (1982).

Although there is much written information about Sor Juana’s struggles against church and state, as well as her censorship and rejection, the best way to understand her is through her original poetry and prose. There are translations to English for non-Spanish speakers. For a flavor of her philosophy try her famous poem “Hombres Necios” (“Foolish Men.” C. 1689).

Sor Juana died at 46 from the plague while caring for afflicted nuns in the convent.

Elena Poniatowska
Today at 91 years old, Poniatowska is still active in journalism, literature, and politics, though to a lesser degree than in the past. She was one of the founders of the prestigious newspaper La Jornada, as well as Fem, a feminist magazine. She also founded two well-known and strong Mexico City institutions – Siglo XXI, a publishing house, and the Cineteca Nacional, the national film institute.

It is impossible to list the awards Poniatowska has won worldwide or to list all the articles and books she has packed into a lifetime. I will just mention a few that have meant a lot to me in my many years of studying Spanish language and culture, as well as in simply reading for pleasure.

The first book I read cover-to-cover in Spanish was Poniatowska’s novel Leonora (2011), a novel based on the life of her good friend the eccentric surrealist artist and writer Leonora Carrington.

The book has much to offer: a glimpse into the world of surrealism through the Mexican artists and friends of Leonora, a voyage through her disturbed upper-class British childhood and adolescence, and her journey into madness. Scattered throughout are provocative tidbits of well-known personalities from her time in Europe and the US during World War II and then in Mexico, where she spent the rest of her long life.

Poniatowska’s style is straightforward, but not simple. It is a pleasure to read her and especially to learn more about the culture of her era.

Poniatowska’s best known book is La noche de Tlatelolco (Massacre in Mexico in English, 1971), which contains testimonies of the victims of the 1968 student massacre in Mexico City. During the presidency of Gustavo Díaz Ordaz (1964-70), students demonstrated to protest their discontent with the authoritarian government. On October 2, 1968 (ten days before the Summer Olympics were to begin in Mexico City – those Olympics are famous in their own right for a Black Power protest), the military put a stop to the protests. It is estimated that 300 to 500 students who had gathered in the Plaza de Tres Culturas, the main square in the Tlatelolco neighborhood, were shot and killed by the military. Poniatowska’s interviews, charts, and slogans from the student survivors bring the events painfully alive for the reader.

Certainly Poniatowska is and has been a role model for all young women.

Cristina Rivera Garza
Cristina Rivera Garza, one of Mexico’s most prolific and popular writers, was born in 1964 on the US/Mexico border in the state of Tamaulipas. She teaches and writes in both countries and languages, currently living in San Diego and teaching history at the University of San Diego.

Her most recognized work, Nadie me verá llorar (No One Will See Me Cry, 1999) won the prestigious Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz Prize in 2001. This is the tale of the intertwined lives of Joaquín Buitrago, a morphine-addicted photographer with upper-class roots, and Matilda Burgos, a former prostitute of peasant origin who was confined to a mental hospital.

“This touching story plumbs the psychological depths of the morphine addict, vividly portrays life a century ago in Mexico, and has the added appeal of strong female characters,” says Nerissa Moran, a Spanish-language book dealer. The renowned Carlos Fuentes called the book “one of the most perturbing and beautiful novels ever written in Mexico.” Best to read it in Spanish, according to Garza’s fans.

Garza won the Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz Prize in 2009 for La muerte me da (Death Gives Me, 2007), a fragmentary and experimental novel in which the narrator discovers castrated bodies, the body and parts separated, and the text undergoes a similar fragmentation. Garza is the only author to win the Sor Juana award twice.

One of her most intriguing books is Liliana’s Invincible Summer: A Sister’s Search for Justice (2023), a nonfiction work in which she reconstructs the circumstances leading to her younger sister’s murder in 1990. Through differing styles, she creates a book that brings back memories of this young woman who attested “I am a seeker. I want to try new things; maybe more pain and loneliness, but I think it would be worth it. I know there is more than these four walls and this sky, annoyingly blue.”

Valeria Luiselli
“Versatile” is the first word that comes to mind when Valeria Luiselli’s name comes up in conversation. She has lived in Mexico, the US, South Africa, South Korea, India, France, and Spain and has studied dance, literature, and philosophy. She has worked as a librettist for a ballet company, taught comparative literature, and has written for several art galleries.

We know her best, however, as a writer of fine literature, with immigration concerns central to both her fiction and nonfiction.

Luiselli’s book Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in 40 Questions (2017) is ranked number 83 on The Guardian’s list of the best 100 books of the 21st century. One of my favorites, Tell Me How It Ends uses the 40 questions Luiselli, working as an interpreter, asks of undocumented Latin American children in deportation hearings. Luiselli highlights the dichotomy between immigrant dreams and the reality of American racism and fear. This short book is an emotional journey into the process, which includes Luiselli’s conversations with her own children, who ask, “Tell us how it ends, momma. What happens to the children?”

Another journey into the world of immigration is her Lost Children Archive: A Novel (2020), about a family that takes a vacation from New York to Arizona. Although the main theme is immigration and children, other family concerns pepper the journey and it is richly flavored with personal angst and perspective. The parents themselves are awaiting green cards, and the husband is obsessed with Geronimo and with bringing an understanding of the plight of the American Indian to his own children. The marriage appears to be disintegrating.

These are just a few of the legion of women who continue to spark awareness in readers through their inquisitive nature and prudent, yet daring and bold, language skills.

Huatulco

Love, Telenovela Style

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By Deborah Van Hoewyk

When we first arrived in Huatulco, in the winter of 2004-05, we stayed in a long-gone B&B in La Bocana and ate in the next-door restaurant, Los Güeros, which is still there. It was a quiet, magical place – apparently, however, not magical enough for the family that ran Los Güeros, as they gathered every night to watch a TV suspended from the ceiling. Sparsely lit by circular fluorescents, the blue-painted restaurant seemed to pulsate to the flickering movement on the screen.

The family was devoted to telanovelas – prime time, melodramatic, soap operas. Immensely popular in practically all Spanish- or Portuguese-speaking countries, telenovelas are “maxi-mini-series”; unlike U.S. soap operas, they almost always complete their story arc in less than a year, often less than six months. The shorter duration doesn’t keep telenovelas from having complicated plots rife with reversals and revenge, drama and deceit, usually driven by love, be it forbidden or happy-ever-after, or maybe both.

Telenovelas also differ from U.S. soap operas in that they are set in a social, political, and economic framework; they acknowledge poverty, factory layoffs, class differences and conflicts. Indeed, doomed love between an honorable-but-struggling young woman and a wealthy man is a favorite theme, especially in earlier telenovelas. (Don’t worry, they usually get together in the end – think Cinderella!)

How Did Telenovelas Come To Be?

The direct ancestor of the telenovela is the radio-novela, and the ancestor of the radio-novela was born in Cuba, in a 19th-century cigar factory. El lector de tabaco, the tobacco reader, read many things to the cigar-makers, but among them were novels, presented chapter by chapter, day after day. It was thought to entertain the workers, to relieve the tedium of factory work and ensure they would show up to hear more.

Cuba made its first attempt to win its independence from Spain in the unsuccessful Ten Years’ War (1868-78); cigar makers and workers who fled the war moved to Mexico, specifically the state of Veracruz, ideal for growing tobacco, and Florida in the U.S. The tobacco reader came along. Soon there were readers in textile and other factories as well.

Once the lectores began to include labor issues in their readings – seen by some historians as leading to the labor movement (a story for another time), they were on their way out. Factory owners did not like having their workers educated on what they saw as socialist, communist, or anarchist themes. Mexico banned lectores in its factories, although whether that was a total ban is unclear. In the US, the tobacco factories in Ybor City, part of Tampa, staged multiple strikes – the live readings ended with the strike of 1931 – but there are still lectores in Cuba today.

Radios Replace the Readers

As soon as radio became available, it, too, was put to work in factories to entertain workers. In her doctoral work at the Free University of Berlin, researcher Hanna Müssemann studies “every-day media,” and has confirmed that radio broadcasts, and then radio-novelas, were intended to entertain factory workers, among other audiences, and to keep workers coming back for “the rest of the story.”

Radio arrived in Mexico at 8 pm on September 18, 1930, when station XEW began broadcasting from the Olimpia Cinema on Calle 16 de Septiembre, right off the zócalo (main square) in Mexico City. Intended for broadcasting music, XEW also produced theatrical works on the weekend; when XEW put out its first radio-novela in 1932, they followed in the steps of the tobacco readers, and broke up the French novel The Three Musketeers (Alexandre Dumas, 1844) into 15-minute segments.

That there was a cliff-hanger element to the radio-novela was made quite clear when XEW writer Vicente Leñero put together guidelines for creating radio-novelas: the plot should have “mild suspense” (suspensos suaves) before commercials, “disturbing suspense” (suspensos inquietantes) for the end of the episode, and “frightful suspense” (suspensos tremebundos) at the end of the week.

XEW’s radio-novelas didn’t really take off until March of 1941, when they put on Ave sin nido, la vida apasionante de Anita de Montemar (Bird without a Nest, the Passionate Life of Anita de Montemar). Anita de Montemar is a student at a nunnery who falls in love with Carlos Miranda, an engineer who handles the mechanical needs of the nunnery. Carlos and Anita marry, only to discover that Anita cannot have children. Carlos’s old friend Carlota is experiencing hard times, and gives her daughter to Anita and Carlos to raise. It turns out, of course, that Alicia is actually Carlos’s daughter with Carlota, and Anita, destroyed, leaves her family. There you have it – the first radio-novela and all the themes that will become the telenovela: obstacles to love, love realized, poverty, deceit, illegitimate kid, and love in ruins.

with the success of Bird without a Nest, XEW began broadcasting five radio-novelas a day; enormously popular, they were the mainstay of Mexican broadcasting through the 1950s. Radio-novela casts included major stars from the big screen (the 1950s was the “Golden Age” of Mexican filmmaking). As in the US, they were sponsored by domestic products, mostly soap. The sponsors were particularly happy when a soap opera delivered a moral ending that listeners could apply to their own lives.

From the Radio-Novela to the Telenovela

Radio-novelas continued to be produced up until 1983, even though a more congenial medium – television – had arrived. Television actually started in Mexico on August 19, 1946, a mere 16 years after the country’s first radio broadcast. Not that it was an auspicious start – Guillermo González Camerano, an electrical engineer, broadcast the first television signal from his Mexico City bathroom. Nonetheless, on September 7, an experimental television station had started broadcasting artistic programming and interviews. In 1950, XHTV, Channel 4 in Mexcio City, became the first commercial station in Latin America. As other stations formed, they joined together as Telesistema Mexicano; in 1973, Telesistema joined with Television Independiente de México to create Televisa, which became the world’s largest producer of Spanish-language television content, including, of course telenovelas. (Televisa is now 45% of TelevisaUnivision, the largest U.S. producer of Spanish-language content.)

The very first telenovela was created in Brazil in Portuguese in 1951. Sua vida me pertence (Your Life Belongs to Me) contains the first on-screen kiss seen in Brazil. Relatively simple by current telenovela standards, it offered fifteen episodes, broadcast twice a week, and followed the story of a developing love affair between a young woman and an older man. In 1952, Cuba’s initial offering was Senderos de Amor (Paths of Love), which involved a repressed spinster who was in love, did bad things, and represented the evils of urban life as opposed to the morality of the countryside. The next year, Cuba and Mexico collaborated on Ángeles de la calle (Angels of the Street), in which a kindly grandma helps out street urchins (said urchins apparently were a popular theme at the time).

The Mexican Telanovela Industry

Mexico finally got going on its own when, on June 12, 1958, Telesistema started broadcasting Senda Prohibida (Forbidden Path), sponsored by Colgate-Palmolive Mexico. There were no poor-but-innocent heroines in this one – the great Silvia Derbez played Nora, who had been small-town poor and suffered for it, but was now an ambitious secretary who falls for her married boss, and despite his very nice wife and cutie-pie son, suckers him out of big gifts and fancy jewelry, which leads to his financial ruin. The 30-episode telenovela ends with Nora in her wedding dress, crying before a full-length mirror, her plotting unrewarded in the end. Silvia Derbez received hate mail, threats, and people waited outside the studio to curse at her and even attack her for being so evil. (Senda Prohibida was remade [refriteado] in 2023, with an emphasis on Nora’s creating conflict between boss father and now-grown son.)

Televisa went full-on into telenovela production, with 3 more productions in 1958, 8 in 1959, 239 titles in the 1960s, and another 550 through 2019. During and following the 1970s, the melodrama increased, sex (and sometimes nudity) appeared on screen, and crises like murder, incest and drug addiction began to appear. On the other hand, the Cinderella-type stories also appeared with increasing regularity.

One that’s got it all? Los ricos también lloran (The Rich Also Cry) tells the story of Marina, thought to be poor but swindled of her inheritance, who is asked to live with a wealthy family. She falls in love with the spoiled son of the family, and he with her, but he marries someone else; there’s a hit man, a fake pregnancy, a gangster, robberies and murders, a psych ward, real adultery, adultery misunderstood, a lost child, an adopted child – it just goes on and on through 248 episodes, all crammed into the four-plus months between October 16, 1979, and February 29, 1980. There is, of course, a happy ending. Los ricos is considered the first “global telenovela,” dubbed into 25 languages and sent off to Russia, Poland, Greece, Serbia, Japan, as well as English, French, and Portuguese.

Reflecting Culture, Shaping Culture

Recently, the academic community has turned its attention to telenovelas, which had generally been dismissed as “simply another example of the ‘mind-numbing’ mass-media programming” driven by copying American capitalistic and consumerist tendencies. That notion didn’t last too long, and now we have detailed analyses like Mexican Screen Melodrama: Unraveling Mexico’s Sociocultural Expectations and Ambiguities by Sofia Rios Miranda (2020), which looks at social change in Mexico and “Mexico’s ambivalence around socioeconomic background, race and religion, gender and worth, family and duty.”

Telenovelas are used, both indirectly by shaping the way people look at the world, and directly by imparting “public service” messages, as educational tools. A good example of indirect “education” would be how they shape the audience’s ideas about gender (telenovela heroines generally have light complexions, and their dress and makeup reflect upper-middle-class European standards). Health agencies have promoted more direct messages: Encrujiada: Sin salud no hay nada (Crossroads: Without Health, There Is Nothing), a telenovela about Alicia, a psychiatrist who dies of colon cancer. The series, created in 2012 for the Hispanic population in California, emphasizes the importance of early detection of cancer. There have been telenovelas designed to change attitudes toward homophobia, drug addiction, and domestic violence.

Romancing the Narcos

And then there’s the narco-novela. The 1970s were not just the time when telenovelas reached their height, it was when drug cartels became part of the fabric of everyday Mexican life. Popular music, with its narcocorridas (drug ballads), and narco-dramas in film and novels began to show people caught up – willingly or not – in the social and political violence brought by drug production and distribution.

The first narco-novela was a 2006 Colombian production, Sin tetas no hay paraiso (No Boobs, No Paradise). Catalina has a very small bust, which she believes is keeping her from marrying a rich drug lord, so she becomes a call-girl to pay for the breast implants that she sees as her path out of poverty. Needless to say, things do not go well – after participating in all manner of corrupt and murderous narco activities, Catalina arranges her own assassination to escape her misery.

Narco-novelas show drug lords with some admiration, and government and law enforcement as corrupt, inept, and underhanded. Like Sin Tetas, most narco-novelas have made some effort to portray the drug trade in a negative way. That gets a bit lost in the shuffle by the time we get to La Reina del Sur (The Queen of the South).

La Reina del Sur and El Chapo

Based on the 2002 Spanish novel by Arturo Pérez-Reverte, La Reina del Sur is the story of Teresa Mendoza, a Mexican woman who becomes the most powerful drug trafficker in southern Spain. Season 1 was produced by Telemundo, NBC Universal’s Spanish-language TV network, with other partners. Seasons 2 and 3 have been made by a Telemundo Global Studios – Netflix partnership. To date, there have been 183 35-minute episodes; there’s no indication there will be a Season 4. Teresa is played by Kate del Castillo, who started out in telenovelas, notably Muchachitas (Young Girls), a 1991 Televisa hit.

Yes, that Kate del Castillo, who arranged an interview for the American actor Sean Penn with Joaquín Archivaldo Guzmán Loera – El Chapo – the former head of the Sinaloa cartel. In 2012, del Castillo tweeted “Today I believe more in El Chapo Guzmán than I do in the governments that hide truths from me … Mr. Chapo, wouldn’t it be cool if you started trafficking with the good? Let’s traffic with love, you know how.” Two years later, El Chapo’s lawyers contacted del Castillo to explore putting the drug lord’s life up there on the big screen. They gave her a special phone that could text El Chapo.

So … she texts El Chapo to set up a meeting with Penn, El Chapo checks out Penn, and by October 2015, everyone is good to go. Except … the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency had already tapped all of El Chapo’s communications, including Castillo’s “special phone,” and the Mexican marines were going to take out El Chapo at the same time as the meeting.

Bad weather stopped the marines, Kate del Castillo thinks Sean Penn took advantage of her, Mexican authorities investigated del Castillo to a fare-thee-well, Sean Penn planned to write an article for Rolling Stone, not make a film about El Chapo, the Mexican government was humiliated when the story came out – sounds like a narco-novela, ¿no?

Huatulco

Literary Illusions: The Sundry Faces of Love

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By Carole Reedy

What else is love but understanding and rejoicing in the fact that
another person lives, acts, and experiences otherwise than we do … ?
― Friedrich Nietzsche

Love wears many faces. The first that comes to mind is often romantic love, but equally powerful is the affectionate love of friendship. There is also the enduring love of long-term relationships, as well as familial love and the usually damaging obsessive love.

Novelists and poets fill reams of pages attempting to make these variegated feelings tangible. Here are several novels that survey the many faces of love.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin (2002)
Gabrielle Zevin’s novel is absolutely one of the most absorbing and emotionally dense books about friendship that I’ve read in the past few years. Happy to say that The New York Times, The Guardian, Esquire, and The Boston Globe, among other prestigious publications and many critical reader-friends, agree with me.

The nucleus of the novel is the complex friendship between Sam and Sadie. The eventual presence of their friend Marx complicates, yet paradoxically enhances, both the friendship and the story line. Skillfully presented personalities and inter-relationships underpin the simple yet creatively mastered plot.

I must admit that I was hesitant to read this book because the main characters are creators of video games, an activity that holds no interest for me. Try to overcome that prejudice. The games themselves are the impetus, the glue, and the core around which the friendships are spawned and enhanced.

Please read this book. You will not be disappointed.

The Romantic, by William Boyd (2022)
William Boyd is prolific. His repertoire consists of more than 15 novels, several short story collections, and many screenplays, plays, nonfiction works, and radio programs.

Equally impressive is his history. Boyd’s Scottish parents emigrated to Africa to run a health clinic (his father was a doctor of tropical medicine). Boyd was born in Accra, Ghana, and also lived in Nigeria. Several of his first novels take place in Africa: A Good Man in Africa (1981), An Ice-Cream War: A Novel (1982), and Brazzaville Beach: A Novel (1999).
Boyd’s latest panoramic novel, The Romantic, presents the main character, Cashel Greville Ross, from his birth in County Cork, Ireland, in 1799, through his adventures in Oxford, London, Brussels, and Zanzibar. A significant part of Ross’s saga, however, takes place in Italy, where he encounters Percy Bysshe Shelley and other Romantic poets and intellectuals in Pisa. A romantic interlude in Ravenna becomes a serious love affair. However, the love he finds there, he callously discards in a moment of rash anger. This misunderstanding haunts him for the rest of his days.

This novel is sweeping not only from a geographical and historical perspective, but also in an emotional sense. We follow Ross across a century and a grand part of the world, all the while cognizant of the significant events of the 19th century as well as one man’s emotions, perceptions, and moral values. Boyd asserts that this is a fictionalized biography of the actual Cashel Greville Ross (1799-1882) – Ross did not actually exist.

Boyd tells a wonderful tale that sparks a broad range of emotions as we journey over foreign lands and within the hearts of his characters. There is everything to love in a William Boyd novel.

Tom Lake: A Novel, by Ann Patchett (2023)
This prolific and diverse author has hit the top of the charts with her latest story of familial love, with romantic incidents to add flavor and spice to the recipe.

In this latest book, the COVID epidemic creates the backdrop for parents and adult children to reunite in northern Michigan, where they will pick cherries from the trees that support the family business. The time the family is sequestered together opens the doors to the past. The three adult daughters vigorously question their mother on her “life before dad” and her romance with an eventually famous movie star.

This novel appears to be on its way to the bestseller lists, seated among Patchett’s other gems, Bel Canto: A Novel (2001) and The Dutch House: A Novel (2019).

The President and the Frog: A Novel, by Carolina de Robertis (2021)
Ex-president of Uruguay Jose “Pepe” Mujica dedicated his life to the small country tucked between Argentina, Brazil, and the sea. As an ardent socialist, Mujica suffered years in the prisons of Uruguay for his beliefs and actions against a fascist government.

And yet years later (from 2010 to 2015), he became one of the most popular and recognized presidents of a South American country. Mujica eschewed the usual decorous lifestyle of many heads of countries. Every day he drove himself to his presidential duties in his 1987 Volkswagen and returned to his farm each evening, where he personally tended to his crops. Ninety percent of his salary was designated for the poor citizens of the country.

This charming novel demonstrates the love of one man for his people and country. It is written in the form of an interview by a journalist, his story teetering between present and past, and bringing to mind the Irish ballad:

For the love of one’s country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And makes us all part of the Patriot Game.

The Alexandria Quartet, by Lawrence Durrell (1957-60)
The twists and turns in these four time-proven fortuitous novels (Justine [1957], Balthazar [1958], Mountolive [1958], and Clea [1960]) set the stage for hours of challenging reading enjoyment.

At first it appears that everyone is in love, one way or another, with the mysterious Justine, but as the series develops our perceptions regarding the roles and feelings of the characters change.

The deep love among the characters in the quartet is more than romantic; it is also the deep-seated friendship that develops among them that keeps narrative flow suspenseful yet accessible.

I tried to read this Durrell classic as a young 30-year-old avid reader when the series was quite the rage. I struggled with the writing style and set it aside. Last year I picked it up again when a good friend and dedicated reader recommended that I “give it another try.” He was right: this time I was thoroughly entertained, not only with the story, but also with the rich mosaic style of Durrell.

Baumgartner: A Novel, by Paul Auster (2023)
Simply, this is a story of an elderly man told to us by one of the best known and most worldly novelists of our generation. The love in this recent novel addresses the enduring feelings that Baumgarten feels for his dead wife and, ultimately, his obsession with her legacy.

As always, Auster combines humor with sorrow. Those of us advanced in years will identify with the often comical descriptions of Baumgarter’s daily struggles. I kept asking myself whether this was meant to be a humorous or bittersweet novel. Of course, it is both.

Auster’s novels always scrutinize the past and present with hope for the future, and this congenial read does not veer from that path. At the somewhat surprise finish, as a critical reader I thought, “What a perfect ending!” – although this should not be at all surprising, coming from this most astute of writers.

Our thoughts go out to Auster as he struggles with his own recent health issues. We hope to see more brilliant novels from him in the future.

Day: A Novel, by Michael Cunningham (2023)
Newly published to joyfully ring in the new year is another thought-provoking novel by the author of The Hours: A Novel (2003), Cunningham’s clever look at the illustrious Virginia Woolf and her memorable creation, Mrs. Dalloway (1925).

Day takes place during the month of April in three successive years, 2019, 2020, 2021. At the core of the novel is a family, each member dealing with his or her individual struggles with daily life and routine. Although quite different in character, desires, attitudes and goals, each player in this novel is likable and sympathetic. This could be due to Cunningham’s striking ability to describe individuals in relation to the others and to communicate each one’s thought processes as they ponder their personal demons.

The New York Times sums up the frictions: “By the end, the members of the family seem to have laid their ghosts to rest. They’re reconciled to moving forward and to living in conflicts that have come to seem almost jolly.”

Wuthering Heights: A Novel, by Ellis Bell (Emily Brontë, 1847)
The preeminent of obsessive love stories, that of Cathy and Heathcliff, was created by Emily Brontë. This, her only published novel, remains to this day a staple in literary circles.

“Be with me always – take any form – drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!” This is Heathcliff speaking in this ambitious novel that leaves the reader in awe of the literary ability of the young 29-year-old country girl from York.

Brontë’s exploration of romantic love and obsessive passion has not been surpassed in well over 100 years. The success and endurance of the novel and the movies made from it have assured Brontë’s stature in the world of literature. In my mind, there is little doubt that none of the movies made even grazes the surface of the passion and melancholy expressed in the novel.

Emily Brontë died at age 30, one year after the publication of Wuthering Heights.

Huatulco

Sergio Valadez Estrada: A Visionary’s Lasting Legacy in Art

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By Tania Guzmán

In the world of art, few have managed to blend the vibrancy of Mexican heritage with the enigmatic charm of Parisian nights as masterfully as the late Sergio Valadez Estrada. The Huatulco Art Gallery in Plaza Chahue proudly houses ten of Valadez’s final masterpieces. In this article, we intend to celebrate and illuminate the profound impact of Valadez’s work.

Born with the challenge of color blindness, Valadez turned this into an artistic strength, demonstrating that true art transcends the conventional spectrum of colors. A graduate of the Escuela Nacional de Artes Plásticas (National School of Plastic Arts) of Mexico and first-prize winner of the Valores Jóvenes (≈ Youth of Merit) award in 1964, Valadez’s journey was nothing short of remarkable.

His art, heavily influenced by his Mexican roots and the atmospheric nightscapes of Paris, speaks volumes of his dual heritage. Valadez, an expressionist at heart, drew inspiration from the likes of famed political muralist José Clemente Orozco, yet he maintained a unique touch, a testament to his resilience in preserving his cultural identity despite his long residence in France.

Joining the Taller de Gráfica Popular (People’s Graphic Workshop) in 1963, Valadez worked under the tutelage of another major muralist, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and Workshop co-founder Leopoldo Méndez. Valadez’s career burgeoned, leading him to international acclaim in Mexico, France, the United States, and Belgium. His art, deeply connected to the lives of ordinary people, vividly captures the essence of communal celebrations and struggles, often displayed in spaces like cabarets and bars.

Valadez’s acclaim is not limited to his paintings. He was a celebrated musician, imbuing the old cafes of Le Marais in Paris with the soulful melodies of his accordion, blending French and Latin American tunes. His interactive musical performances, in which he improvised instruments and distributed lyrics to the audience, were a unique, immersive experience for his appreciative audiences.

Huatulco Art Gallery, now the custodian of ten of Valadez’s last works, invites you to experience the depth and breadth of his artistic genius. Each piece is a gateway into the world of Valadez – a world where expressionism, Mexican vibrancy, and Parisian subtlety coalesce into a symphony of visual delight.

Valadez’s journey from the streets of Mexico City to the heart of Paris is not just a story of geographical transition but an odyssey of artistic evolution. His work serves as a bridge between cultures, capturing the parallel lives and vibrant atmospheres of two distinct worlds.

His artistic signature, often playfully concealed within the intricate details of his works, is a humble reminder of his belief in art for art’s sake. This playful element adds another layer of engagement for the viewer, inviting them to delve deeper into the narrative woven into each canvas.

As we remember Sergio Valadez Estrada, we do not merely recall an artist who painted, sculpted, and played music; we reminisce about a visionary who saw the world in a different light and painted it in hues only he could perceive. His works, now on display and available for acquisition, are not just pieces of art; they are fragments of a legacy that continues to inspire and captivate.

The life and work of Sergio Valadez Estrada are a testament to the enduring power of art to bridge cultures, transcend barriers, and touch the human spirit. We invite art enthusiasts and collectors alike to experience this magical fusion of cultures and emotions, to own a piece of history, and to keep the legacy of this extraordinary artist alive.

The Sergio Valadez Exhibit is on display until March 1, 2024.

Huatulco Art Gallery
95 Benito Juárez Blvd
Plaza Chahue, Local S2
Sector P

Monday to Saturday 10 am to 2 pm
Email: taniaguzman.art@gmail.com
Facebook: Huatulco Art Gallery
(www.facebook.com/thestudiogalleryhux)
Instagram: Huatulcoartgallery
(www.instagram.com/huatulcoartgallery/)
Tel: 958-174-9964

Huatulco

Editor’s Letter

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By Jane Bauer

“When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us. There are people who see only dullness in the world and that is because their eyes have already been dulled. So much depends on how we look at things. The quality of our looking determines what we come to see.”
― John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace

As we have done for the past many years, the theme of our January issue falls in line with the Chinese New Year which this year is The Year of the Dragon. This logic may seem a bit silly but was fine when we had the year of the chicken, the pig and the ox, but dragons? “Dragons are for children’s stories”, I mused to myself, “a gateway animal to the study of dinosaurs and keeping snakes as pets.”

I was intrigued to see how our writers would navigate this theme and I was contemplating this as a majestic gold-colored iguana made its way across the road.

The truth is that fairy tales and mythological creatures are born from something real. The iguana with its golden tail swinging from side to side, the jagged edges of soft spine that run from the head down to the tail, and the long thin toes with protruding claws, is fantastical. If we look at everyday things with new eyes, we realize that our world is as full of wonder and magic as any fairy tale or Harry Potter book. The world we live in is full of many beasts and creatures and happenings that are wondrous.

As we slide into 2024, let us remember to look upon our world with wonderment. Be amazed by the night sky full of stars and the creeping awakening of the morning light. Talk to insects and take a moment to see the way the vultures and pelicans dance through the air. Let your fingers caress the bark of a tree and think about all the tree has been present for in its unmoving stillness. Magic is everywhere. One of the saddest things that happens as we grow up is that we are encouraged to move away from looking at the world in a whimsical way and yet it is looking at it in this way that joy is most readily available to us.

Let go of practical things that are weighing you down and allow yourself to be kissed by the breeze, at least for a little while.

See you next month,

Jane

Huatulco

American Dragons

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By Brooke O’Connor

Dragons are known globally through myth, legends, and folklore. Sometimes they teach, sometimes they terrorize, but they always fascinate. Let’s look at our local dragons and how they became part of Meso-American culture. There are many versions of their stories, and their identities and powers varied over time and according to which Meso-American culture was worshipping them.

Quetzalcóatl

Mesoamerica’s most famous dragon is the feathered serpent god. Called Quetzalcóatl by the Toltecs, then the Aztecs, and then their successors the Nahua, the deity is called Kulkulkán in the Yucatec Maya mythology and religion. The Quiché (also K’iche’) Maya of Guatemala called their deity Gucumatz. The Huastecs of the Gulf Coast worshipped a wind god called Ehecatl; when they were taken over by the Aztecs in the 15th century, Ehecatl was united with Quetzalcóatl, who also ruled the wind. This revered god was prominent in Aztec art and folklore, manifesting in various artistic expressions.

There are multiple accounts regarding the birth of Quetzalcóatl. In one version, he was born to a virgin named Chimalman, who dreamed that Ometeotl (a binary god who was both husband and wife) appeared to her. Another story tells of Chimalman conceiving Quetzalcoatl by swallowing an emerald. A third narrative says that Mixcoatl (the god of hunting, war, and storms) shot Chimalman in the womb with an arrow. She stopped the arrow with her hand, and nine months later, she gave birth to a child named Quetzalcóatl. Lastly, a fourth story mentions Quetzalcóatl being born from Coatlicue (see below), who already had given birth to four hundred children who became the stars of the Milky Way; the association with Quetzalcóatl may come from her skirt of writhing snakes, or the story that she gave birth to Huitzilopochtli, god of sun and war, after being impregnated by a feather, or perhaps a ball of feathers.

Quetzalcóatl was a multi-faceted deity, and held dominion over many aspects of everyday life. He was revered as the Creator deity of the Morning and Stars, the guardian of craftsmen, a rain summoner, and a bringer of fire. Additionally, he imparted knowledge in the fine arts and is credited with the creation of the calendar.

Quetzalcóatl was the priest-king of Tula city in Hidalgo, where Mexico’s most important indigenous civilizations were born. Unlike many other gods, he strongly opposed the idea of regular human sacrifices; in one tale, he was known for his great kindness by suggesting sacrifices of snakes, birds, and butterflies instead of humans. There is some disagreement on this – he is shown in the 16th-century Codex Telleriano-Remensis swallowing a human being.

Quetzalcóatl’s reign was cut short when his vengeful brother Tezcatlipoca, god of war, night, and sorcery, used dark magic to banish him from Tula. One version says Tezcatlipoca inveigled him into committing drunken incest with his sister, Quetzalpétatl. Remorseful beyond measure, Quetzalcóatl left Tula and journeyed to the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, where he ultimately sacrificed himself on a pyre and transformed into the planet Venus. There are multiple versions of how Quetzalcóatl’s life ended – another story says he departed on a raft made of snakes, sailing beyond the eastern horizon.

In Huatulco, it is said he was the deity that came to Santa Cruz Beach and taught the locals how to thrive long before the Spanish arrived.

For more see: Quetzalcóatl Meso-American God – Naked History. http://www.historynaked.com/quetzalcoatl-meso-american-god/.

Coatlicue

Coatlicue roughly translates as “she-of-the-serpent-skirt” because she wore a skirt (īcue) of serpents (cōātl), and was accompanied by two dragons. She represented the duality of nature and sometimes wore a necklace with a heart, human hands, and claws. Coatlicue symbolized nature for the Aztecs and guided people through the process of rebirth; she was considered an earth goddess.

Coatlicue was also a symbol of maternal fertility. One day, the earth goddess was busy sweeping on top of Coatepec in what is now the state of Veracruz, also known as Snake Mountain, when a feather accidentally landed in her apron. In that very instant, she miraculously became pregnant with a son, whom she named Huitzilopochtli, a powerful deity associated with the sun and warfare. When she became pregnant with Huitzilopochtli, her older sons, Centzon and Huitznahua, gods of the southern stars, became angry and decided to wage war against their mother. However, Huitzilopochtli leaped out of the womb in total warrior regalia and slew his siblings before they had a chance to kill their mother. Huitzilopochtli became the patron god of the Mexica tribe and was later given the same deity status as Quetzalcóatl.

Coatlicue is immortalized in statues with her head cut off and blood squirting out from her neck. This may be because of a myth about several female deities, including Coatlicue, who sacrificed themselves to put the sun in motion. Their selflessness effectively allowed time to continue, and they preserved the cosmos by offering their own lives.

For more see: http://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/art-americas/early-cultures/aztec-mexica/a/coatlicue. To get to the article, close the Khan Academy donation page by clicking the ‘x’ in the upper right corner.

Chaac

Chaac is the Mayan god of thunder, lightning, and rain. His basic form is human; his “dragon-ness” comprises a lengthy crocodile-like snout that curls – when Chaac appears on temple ruins, the snout looks more like an elephant trunk. His snout and body are adorned with reptilian or fish-like scales; he has ears resembling a deer, sometimes adorned with a shell. He carries a mighty axe, known as the lightning ax, capable of conjuring lightning bolts.

Chaac was depicted in four different aspects. The Four Chaacs were positioned in cardinal directions, and each wore a color representing their direction. The Chaac in the East, where the sun rises, wore red. The Chaac in the North, at the mid-day zenith, wore white. The Chaac in the West, representing the sunset, wore black. Lastly, the Chaac in the South wore yellow. A fifth color, green, is associated with the center point. In 16th-century Yucatán, the Chaac in the East was known as Chac Xib Chaac, meaning “Red Man Chaac,” with only the colors being different for the other three Chaacs.

As the rain-making deity, Chaac gained immense popularity among the Mayan gods. The Palace at the Kabah ruins in the state of Yucatàn boasts a façade with an impressive collection of over two hundred masks depicting his face. Chaac enjoyed widespread worship among the Mayans, unlike other gods with limited cult centers. His name and reverence held particular significance during the crucial planting and harvesting seasons.

The Mayans believed that the god Chaac had a primary role in rain-making, but he also had dominion over all water sources. Chaac required a specific sacrifice to bring rain – the blood of royalty from the Earth. He had to shed his own blood to make it rain, and he believed in the “blood for blood principle.”

This rainbringer held the key to survival for the Mayans. Their strong desire to appease him with blood not only reflected their desperate need for water and bountiful harvests but also their deep-rooted belief in the importance of sacrifice and renewal for sustaining life. In this intricate cycle, humans offered sacrifices to Chaac, while Chaac himself shed his blood to ensure the revival of crops, and each person was expected to sacrifice something of themselves for the good of the whole.

The Mayans’ deep understanding of Chaac’s influence on rainfall enabled them to create sophisticated irrigation systems and techniques for managing water. By building canals, reservoirs and using terracing methods, they effectively utilized Chaac’s rain to support their agricultural activities.

Even today, modern Mayan communities deeply respect Chaac’s role in agriculture and water. They continue to perform ceremonies and rituals to pay homage to Chaac, acknowledging his vital role in maintaining the cycles of life and fertility. He was considered responsible for the balance of ecosystems and reminded people of the delicate dance between all creations in nature, including humans.

For more see: http://www.oldworldgods.com/mayan/chaac-god-of-rain/.

Dragons, dragons everywhere

Dragons are widely associated with medieval-esque lore and fantasy fiction, but we see they have an essential role in shaping cultures centuries, if not millennia, before the Middle Ages. Renowned psychologist Carl Jung taught that dragons symbolized the cold-bloodedness in our subconsciousness. He said they personify the brutal fear and ancient power of raw, unfettered natural law from times long past. He believed we used dragons to represent the “old ways.” He explains that as humans evolved, dragons became less emblematic as we took on more warm-blooded, gentler symbols. However, one has to ask, in the modern day, if dragons haven’t found their way back into society, dressed in cozy sheep’s clothing.

Huatulco

The Thrill of Anticipation – 2024: Ten Books Guaranteed to Quench your Literary Thirst

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By Carole Reedy

If, like Julian Barnes and Gustave Flaubert, you believe that anticipation is the greatest form of pleasure, then (like me) you love looking forward to the new year’s forthcoming selection of novels and non-fiction, when we meet new authors and continue to treasure our trusted favorites. To whet your literary appetite, here are ten new books ready for publication in the first six months of 2024.
January
The Promised Party: Kahlo, Basquiat and Me, by Jennifer Clement
Clement, former president of Pen International, is especially familiar to expats and dual citizens in Mexico. Clement was born in the US but has lived between the US and Mexico during different life stages, as many of us have.

The latest novel from this highly respected international figure reflects the cultures of the grand old Mexico City of the 1970s – filled with artists and communists – and the equally scintillating New York of the 1980s, where Clement rubbed elbows with the likes of Jean Basquiat and William Burroughs.

In Mexico, Clement lived next door to the Casa Azul, the blue house lived in by Frida Kahlo, the iconic figure of the bohemian neighborhood of Coyoacán. From there Clement moved to New York. This is her memoir of the two majestic cities.

Clement has captivated us in the past with a disturbing young girl’s story of Mexico in Prayers for the Stolen (2012, film version 2021), as well as in the New York saga of the Widow Basquiat: A Love Story (2014).

February
Wandering Stars, by Tommy Orange
Avid readers discovered a new voice in 2018 when Orange wrote his well-regarded and eye-opening novel, There There.

As a young man, Orange played roller hockey at the national level for ten years. He was also a musician, receiving his bachelor’s degree in sound arts. His passion for reading, and thus writing, evolved when he began working at Greywolf Books in California, but the idea to tell stories about his Native American heritage grew out of his work at a digital storytelling sound booth and at a story center at the University of California at Berkeley.

Orange’s newest novel continues relating the history and stories of the Native American community. Wandering Stars traces the legacies of the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864 through three generations of a family, and includes some of the characters we met in his debut novel.
March
James, by Percival Everett
Move over Barbara Kingsolver, author of blockbuster Demon Copperhead (2022), the successful takeoff of Dickens’ beloved David Copperfield. Now with his latest novel, James, Percival Everett has turned Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884) topsy turvy.

We reveled in Huck’s and Jim’s adventures in that classic novel, but this time the story is told by Jim, the slave’s point of view replacing Huck’s entertaining vision. Action-filled as well as humorous, any lover of literature will be delighted by this innovative work by a prestigious figure of modern literature.

Everett is the author of Dr. No: A Novel (2022), finalist for two awards – NBCC Award for Fiction, PEN/Jean Stein Book Award; The Trees: A Novel (2021), finalist for five book awards, including the Booker Prize, and winner of the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award; and Telephone: A Novel (2004), finalist for the Pulitzer Prize.

Anita de Monte Laughs Last, by Xóchitl Gonzalez
In the December 2023 issue of The Eye, I listed Xóchitl Gonzalez’s brilliant novel Olga Dies Dreaming (2021) as one of my top-ten reads of the year.

Her latest novel offers a glimpse into the art world of two women, one present and one past. The rising artist Anita de Monte of the title is found dead in 1985 in New York City, where her death is the talk of the town. The event is forgotten for a while, but years later another young artist, Rachel, stumbles on the story, which proves to be similar to her own.

The storyline straddles the lives of both women with, I’m sure, the same intensity Gonzalez told the story of the Puerto Rican family in her first novel, Olga Dies Dreaming. If so, it also should be memorable.

American Spirits, by Russell Banks
Russell Banks was an admired author of novels and short stories that address the social dilemmas and moral struggles of American society. The most popular of his many creations are Rules of the Bone (1995) and Continental Drift (1985).
He died early in 2023 of cancer before this latest collection was published.

American Spirits consists of three novellas that take place in a rural American town, three dark stories about the comings and goings and undercurrents in our communities.

Writing in the Journal of American Studies, University of Nottingham Lecturer Anthony Hutchison argues that, “Aside from William Faulkner, it is difficult to think of a white twentieth-century American writer who has negotiated the issue of race in as sustained, unflinching and intelligent a fashion as Russell Banks.”

April
Table for Two, by Amor Towles
Towles’ diversity is evident in his novels, from the entertaining romp that takes place in the United States, The Lincoln Highway: A Novel (2021), to the historical Russian tale of A Gentleman in Moscow: A Novel (2016).

In his latest we are entertained by six short stories that take place at the turn of the millennium in New York City and a novella set in Los Angles.
All of Towles’ books prove to be best sellers, and I imagine the same for Table for Two.

Mania, by Lionel Shriver
We Need to Talk About Kevin (2003), Shriver’s most memorable book and winner of the Orange Prize in 2005, was made into an equally popular film in 2011. Since then, Shriver has written many significant novels, my favorites being the recent Should We Stay or Should We Go: A Novel (2021), sorting through decisions surrounding dying with dignity, and So Much for That: A Novel, a rant on the American medical system.

Shriver always entertains, with her sharp eye on society, so her newest book, which shows us a world filled with absolute equality of intelligence, is no surprise.

Her publisher writes: “With echoes of Philip Roth’s The Human Stain [2000], told in Lionel Shriver’s inimitable and iconoclastic voice, Mania is a sharp, acerbic, and ruthlessly funny book about the road to a delusional, self-destructive egalitarianism that our society is already on.”

The Cemetery of Untold Stories, by Julia Alvarez
Many of us remember Alvarez’s most popular book, In the Time of the Butterflies (1994), selected by the National Endowment for the Arts for its Big Read program. In 2013 President Obama awarded Alvarez the National Medal of Arts in recognition of her extraordinary storytelling.

Alvarez left the Dominican Republic for the US when she was just 10, but she continues to write about the place she spent her youth.

Her newest is a tribute to books and storytelling. On a plot of inherited land, the protagonist buries her untold stories, only for their characters to return to tell their tales.

Books, stories, and magical realism: a satisfying buffet!

Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder, by Salmon Rushdie
Salman Rushdie stands as an icon of bravery. Despite living through threats and a brutal physical attack on his life, he continues to exercise his freedom to write and entertain for a worldwide public.

Rushdie has survived a 20-year fatwa imposed by religious leader, revolutionary, and politician Ayatollah Khomeini, as well as a recent brutal knife attack that almost took his life. Since the attack, which left him blind in one eye and unable to use one hand, he has said he feels that until he writes about the incident, he will not be able to return to creating the marvelous fictions we so love.

In Knife, Rushdie recounts enduring the attack and surviving afterwards. By February 6, 2023, Rushdie had recovered enough do an interview with The New Yorker, in which he said, “I’m lucky. What I really want to say is that my main overwhelming feeling is gratitude.”

The literary world hopes that this book will contribute to the spiritual healing Rushdie needs to continue creating his insightful, entertaining works of art.

June

Parade, by Rachel Cusk
Rachel Cusk’s publisher describes her new novel, Parade, as one that “expands the notion of what a novel can be and do. She turns language upside down to show us our world as it really is.”

The main character, G, is an artist who has lived many lives, as many of us have.

Avid readers will remember Cusk’s recent Outline trilogy: Outline (2014), Transit (2016), and Kudos: A Novel (2018). We look forward to Cusk’s new creation, in which she tosses away the reins of perception in her writing.

There will be countless new books for this year’s reading. On that happy note, enjoy these with the promise of more to come.