Tag Archives: Mexico

Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor

Hurricane Season has been sitting in the pile of books I’m planning to read for some time. It has sat there in its handsome Fitzcarraldo Editions blue jacket for some time having come to my attention earlier this year. And now it has come to the top of the pile, and I am glad to have read it and glad too that the reading is over, because it is quite a tough book. But also very exhilarating, because of the headlong, hurtling style of the writing. 

Fernanda Melchor is a Mexican writer, and this is her second novel and her first book available in English translation. The novel won an English PEN Award, and it is an important and outstanding book. It was translated from the Spanish by Sophie Hughes and is a remarkable achievement in itself.

Hurricane Season

The novel is set among the inhabitants of the small Mexican village of La Matosa. The village is impoverished despite the highway than runs nearby, carrying the huge trucks of the oil industry. 

In the opening chapter the body of a witch is found by children in an irrigation channel near the village. The crime was committed by two young men, both of whom are losers. Neither the question of who did it or why are central to the meaning of this novel. The crime is almost incidental in the lives of several people. We enter into five lives in turn, having learned something of the background of the witch herself, an isolate living in a house outside the village, providing cures and potions for the sick and afflicted, and wild parties for the young men. 

In turn we read of the inner life, inner voice of five characters who are associated with the death of the witch. Yesenia had grown up with her stepbrother, Luismi, but hates him and the special attention their grandmother gave him. She observes him loading the body into the van and shops him to the police. 

Luismi is a pathetic and hopeless young man who has rejected his grandmother and moved in with his mother and her husband. He has not got much going for him. He has no employment but believes that he will be offered a lucrative job in the refining business, promised by ‘a friend’. It is clear that this potential job will never materialize and Luismi is drifting until he meets Norma. 

Munra, is his the stepfather who drives a van, involved in the crime. Munra used to be a fit and good-looking man but was hit by a truck in an accident and is now unable to work. He lives off his wife and what he earns from driving his van. He has no future either. 

Norma is 13 and running away from her impoverished home. She has been taking care of the children her mother has by different fathers. She is much neglected and dismissed by her mother. Her stepfather, Pepe, grooms her and eventually makes her pregnant. She runs away, as far as the town near La Matosa, where Luismi finds her in the park. It is as far as her money will take her. Luismi and brings her to live with him in his shack, unaware of her pregnancy. Luismi’s mother takes Norma to the witch for an abortion. She bleeds so badly she goes to hospital where she refuses to accuse anyone of making her pregnant and so is detained.

Brando is the most deadbeat and hapless of all these characters. He appears to have no redeeming features, no moral compass at all, despite a mother heavily influenced by the church. He is high most of the time and earns money as a male prostitute. His aim is to escape La Matosa and plans to steal the witch’s money in order to do this. He is ready to kill his accomplices too, but the police catch up with him before he can do this.

Everyone seems to believe the witch has heaps of money hidden in her house. The truth is much more macabre.


Fernanda Melchor

The writing of Hurricane Season

This is a bleak novel for it is clear that the lives of these people are dominated by drugs and poverty. Sex work is the major employment for women and boys. Violence is endemic. Parents hit their children, boys hit each other, women are hit by everyone.

The writing that conveys this unstable environment is breakneck, headlong. The chapters have no paragraph divisions. Some are more than 50 pages long, requiring the reader to continue without a break. 

The language is coarse, colloquial, full of invective, curses and colourful insults. Since we are largely within the heads of each of the main characters, we are unable to escape the contempt in which people hold each other, their fury at broken hopes, their grinding misery. It is vivid and very raw. The translator Sophie Hughes is to be congratulated for achieving this effect in English without it appearing stilted or contrived. Here’s an example.

It made Yesenia’s blood boil whenever she got to thinking about it, with an anger that made her guts throb, every time she thought about that ungrateful little prick and what a fool Grandma had been to tell Uncle Murilio she’d bring him up, when she knew full well that the slag he was seeing was a professional whore who’d open her legs for anyone with a deep enough pocket. (38)

And another example:

And the Witch, who throughout the whole exchange just carried on tinkering about in that noxious kitchen with her back to them, turned and stared at Norma, her eyes sparkling behind her veil, and after a long silence she said that before doing anything she had to examine Norma, to see how far gone she was; and right there on the kitchen table they laid her on her back and hitched up her dress and the Witch pressed her hands all over Norma’s stomach, roughly, almost angrily, perhaps enviously and after a few minutes of groping around the Witch told them it was going to be tricky, that she was already really far gone … (150)

That second extract is all one sentence which doesn’t finish for another 25 lines. 

The story is not told in a linear way, but rather through the involvement and back stories of those five characters. 

And in this way the author lays bare the wretchedness of this element of Mexican society, where drugs are supreme, and the currency is sex. Violence is everywhere, especially towards the weaker people, the women and girls. 

Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor first published in 2017. The English edition was published by Fitzcarraldo Editions in 2021. 226pp

Translated from the Spanish by Sophie Hughes 

Winner of English PEN Award, shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2020

Related Posts

Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement 

Celebrating English PEN at 100


Filed under Books, Reading, Reviews, translation, Women in Translation

Lost Children Archive by Valeria Luiselli

I love our reading group for two main reasons: I get to talk with others about my favourite subject and we read books I wouldn’t have chosen myself. Sometimes our choices are disappointing, but much more often the choices are very rewarding. This was the case with Lost Children Archive, which we read in March.

This novel already had a good reputation, and the topic of refugees, refugee children and their treatment is sadly and persistently in the news, both in the UK and in the US. This book was longlisted for Women’s Prize and Booker Prize in 2019 and it confronts the events at the US southern border head on. Not only is it topical but this is an innovative and imaginative novel that deserves attention.

Lost Children Archive

The main narrative of the novel is a road trip taken by two adults and their two children from New York to the southwestern states. The adults have left  careers in sound recordings to pursue their own interests: the husband is looking for the echoes of the Apache Indian tribes. The mother is drawn into a search for the stories of children who cross the border separating Mexico and the US. She had met Manuela at the school gates and heard that she is expecting her children, two girls, to arrive at any moment. 

As they drive, they witness the economic decline of many places: abandoned gas stations, ruined motels, the empty highway. Sadness pervades this trip because it is clear to the mother, the narrator of most of the book, that she and her husband will part when they reach their destination, wherever it is. 

As they travel, we are drawn into other texts, about sound recording, about the first nations, and the Elegies of Lost Children. These elegies are created by the author, but reference many other writers: Ezra Pound, Virginia Woolf, TS Eliot, Galway Kinnell.

There is other documentary material provided in the text, not least the Migrant Mortality Reports, photographs and the boy’s Polaroids. The importance of documenting, recording, creating these archives runs through this novel. What does it mean to be American? The indigenous population was all but wiped out, and deprived of land and other rights; the migrants from the south have the ambition to be American; the family who make the road trip find themselves adrift in their own country.

The climax is narrated by the boy and meshes with the stories in the Elegies and Manuela’s daughters who have their mother’s phone number stitched into their clothing. 

An innovative and imaginative novel

I have already mentioned some of this novel’s originality: the use of texts from elsewhere, and other documentary materials. Some readers may be reminded of WG Sebald’s use of photographs. Here, too, they are not of good quality, but they still add something to the narrative, to the documentation of the story.

I am reminded of Sebald’s description of Theresienstadt concentration camp In Austerlitz. The effect of Sebald’s description, written over many pages in one sentence, as here in Lost Children’s Archive, is to force you to stay with the prose. You can’t look away. You have to bear witness to the experiences of the children. 

She gives none of the family a name. This anonymity brings you closer to their relationships. And Valeria Luiselli writes the most stunning descriptions of the landscapes through which the family travel and search.

The effect of all of these devices is to draw together a dramatic story with both individual human relevance and immediacy, with a damning indictment of how children are treated in our world, especially when they are unwanted migrants.

Valeria Luiselli herself is originally from Mexico, but the migrant story is not hers, although she had served as a court translator for South American children seeking asylum in the US. She has written other novels, Faces in the CrowdThe Story of my Teeth, as well as collections of essays. but this is her first book in English.

Our small zoom meeting of the reading group agreed that this is an intense, relevant and strong novel.

Lost Children Archive by Valeria Luiselli published in 2019. I read the paperback version from 4th Estate. 385pp. Longlisted for Women’s Prize and Booker Prize in 2019. 

Another post about books on refugee

Well-founded fear: a Themed Post about Refugees (from March 2021)

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Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement

What did I know of Mexico? To begin with it was Speedy Gonzales. The lyrics of Pat Boone’s 1962 hit song Speedy Gonzales are frankly racist. The cartoon mouse had a comic squeaky voice, wore a sombrero and represented Mexicans for Warner Brothers. This stereotyped image of primitive and stupidity was confirmed by the villagers in The Magnificent Seven. As part of my history degree I studied the Aztecs who had a dramatic but disappeared civilization. I never thought much about Mexico.

214 Prayers coverTwo things happened to change this for me: 43 trainee teachers disappeared on 26th September 2014 and have probably died in Guerrero State. Both drug gangs and the police are implicated. I read Prayers for the Stolen for our Book Group meeting in November. I begin to have a more vivid understanding of the dark side of Mexico.

The Novel

Prayers for the Stolen is fiction, but Jennifer Clement, a Mexican-American, has done her research, and what we are presented with is an authentic account of what happens to young girls in Guerrero State. It’s fiction but it’s real life. Ladydi lives on the mountain an hour from Acapulco. The men leave for the drugs gangs or to cross the border to the US. The girls wait to escape or be captured by the narcos. Here is the opening paragraph.

Now we make you ugly, my mother said. She whistled. Her mouth was so close she sprayed my neck with her whistle-spit. I could smell beer. In the mirror I watched her move the piece of charcoal across my face. It’s a nasty life, she whispered. (3)

There are more dangers, scorpions, the fast road to Acapulco, the pesticide dropped by the police to spoil the poppy crops. They get some education, but mostly it is from their mothers.

The story

The cover in the US

The cover in the US

The story is narrated by Ladydi. Her mother named her as a reference to a famous betrayal by a man. The main thing in Ladydi’s life is not to be caught by the narcos, a task that becomes harder as she and her friends become older. The men have all left to work illegally in the US or to join the narcos or they are dead, killed by border guards or the gangs.

The first section follows the girls as they complete an irregular schooling on the mountain. Ladydi’s father leaves to cross to America. Women and girls are stolen. They must always take care, even have holes dug in the mountain in which to hide if the gangs come in their SUVs to find the girls. Ladydi’s friend Paula is the most beautiful girl in Mexico, and she disappears. From all the dangers Ladydi’s fierce and vindictive mother tries to protect her.

After graduating from primary school Mike a neighbour finds Ladydi a job as a nanny in Acapulco. She is going to be a nanny, but it turns out that the family have been killed. In the middle section the housekeeper, Ladydi and the gardener/lover live in luxury in the abandoned house for some months. Then Ladydi is arrested for a murder committed by Mike.

The third section takes place in the women’s prison outside Mexico City. The inmates are victims of the corrupt world in which they have tried to live. Many have killed men, sometimes because they were stolen and abused themselves. And here Ladydi experiences the strength that women give to each other, the tips, the advice, loans, and the knowledge of the prison rules.

The novel ends as the cycle begins again, with hope for a new life, and fears that it will be a girl.

The writing

214 J ClementLadydi’s voice is very strong, and her closeness to her mother allows us to hear the older woman’s voice as well. This is a strong story, themes of endurance, mother’s love, women who look out for each other. Jennifer Clements knows what she writes about as she is an American-Mexican writer.

I especially enjoyed her descriptive writing with its wry notes and vivid pictures. This is how the third section begins.

The Santa Maria Jail in the south of Mexico City was the biggest beauty parlour in the world. The bitter and citric scent of hair dyes, hair sprays and nail polish permeated the rooms and passageways of the building. (157)

And in prison Ladydi thinks about her world and how it has been destroyed by heroin production.

I thought of the hills and valleys around my house planted with red and white poppies. I thought of the towns on our mountain like Kilometer Thirty, or Eden. These were the towns along the old road to Acapulco and not the new highway that tore our lives in two pieces. These were the towns that you could enter only by invitation. If you accidentally went there no one would ask you your name or ask you what time it was, they’d just kill you Mike once told me that there were huge mansions in those towns and incredible laboratories that were built underground to turn the poppies into heroin. He said that a miracle occurred at Kilometer Thirty a few years ago. The Virgin Mary appeared in a piece of marble. (171)

This novel is about the corruption, destructiveness and violence caused by the trade in drugs to ordinary lives, and to women’s lives in particular. It is a terrible indictment of what damage is done, here by the drugs trade, by the inability of governments to protect the weakest. The women of Guerrero State are given a voice in this novel.

And the book group said …

Prayers for the Stolen opened our eyes to the situation in Mexico. We would recommend the book because it read as an authentic story. It avoided violence, explicit sex and sentimentality. We often laughed. We liked its focus on women.

Prayers for the stolen by Jennifer Clement, published in 2014 by Vintage. 222pp

Related posts

The novel was adapted for BBC Radio 4 in September 2015 but sadly the play is no longer available. Perhaps it will be repeated.

Kirsty Gunn’s review in The Guardian on 13th February 2014 places the novel within an American tradition of writing about reality.

And here’s another blog review that also picks up on reality in the novel on Whimsies & Words

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