Spirits of the ordinary : a tale of Casas Grandes /

Alcala, hailed as an imaginative new voice for her short story collection, Mrs. Vargas and the Dead Naturalist (1992), is indeed spellbinding. She hasn't quite mastered the fluidity a novel requires, but because this is the first in a trilogy, the problem with flow may be resolved. Certainly, the first installment leaves a reader wanting more. The year is 1870, and everyone in the small Mexican village of Saltillo knows that Estela is so frustrated by her husband's obsession with gold prospecting that she's finding comfort in the arms of a soldier. Her in-laws are also worried about their son, but their concern is spiritual: they are Jews, of a particularly mystical bent, forced to conceal their faith. It turns out that their enigmatic son is also a visionary, but his quest leads him deep into the mountains, where he finds kindred spirits among the Indians, much to the concern of the military authorities. Alcalahas conjured a culturally and metaphysically complex world, animated by an irresistible cast of impassioned characters. --Donna Seaman

In her first novel, Alcalá (author of the story collection Mrs. Vargas and the Dead Naturalist) has crafted a fecund fable about the convergence of cultures‘Mexican, American and Jewish‘along the Mexico/Texas border. The Carabajal family clandestinely practices their Jewish faith in a northern Mexican village of the 1870s. Julio spends his days in his secret Hebraic library; his wife, Mariana, hasn't uttered a word since childhood; and their son, Zacarías, who'd rather prospect for gold than learn a trade, has married a Catholic woman, Estela. Estela's family has a few secrets of their own: an intensely independent woman, Estela has raised her family single-handedly during her husband's long gold-hunting absences and has decided to cut him off financially; her younger brother and sister, twins, have been banished to Texas because of their scandalous androgyny; her unmarried daughter is pregnant; and now her own love affair with an army captain is about to be exposed, while her Zacarías is being hunted by the government for inciting a purported Indian uprising. In the tradition of Latin American literary fabulism, Alcalá's seductive writing mixes fatalism and hope, logic and fantasy, to create moral, emotional and political complexities. But her characterizations and plot sparkle with a freshness that is an apt fit for the new social order she writes about with a multicultural vision notable for its lack of preachiness. Readers will be happy to learn that this enchanting episode is the first of a trilogy. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Both historically and politically relevant, this first novel from an assistant editor at the Seattle Review is dazzling in its originality, casting a fresh light on several time-worn questions: What is spiritual enlightenment? Is assimilation always bad? Is gender equity possible in a heterosexual partnership? Can personal integrity demand defiance? Set in Mexico in the 1870s, the book tells the story of the Carabajal family as it circuitously poses and debates these questions. Central to the story is the horrifying impact of the Spanish Inquisition, for 13 generations after all signs of Judaica were wiped from Spanish culture, some members of this family persist, behind bolted doors, in observing and studying Jewish rituals. For them, staying connected to their ancestral faith is paramount, and while each person's path to piety is different, each search proves powerfully moving. Alcalá embellishes straightforward prose with tinges of mysticism that will entice even the most spiritually disinterested. An extraordinary debut, this tale of ordinary people in pursuit of honor, decency, and cultural connection is sure to resonate. Highly recommended.‘Eleanor J. Bader, New Sch. for Social Research, New York (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Like a vivid dream, this debut novel, the first of a projected trilogy by the Mexican-American author (Mrs. Vargas and the Dead Naturalist, 1992: stories), blurs fantasy and reality as it details in luminous prose one family's search for identity and meaning. The story is set in northern Mexico in the late 19th century, at a time when the authorities fear that the peasants and Indian tribes are about to revolt. The Roman Catholic Church is all- powerful; Jewish families like the Carabajals have long been forced to practice their faith in secret. Though Zacarìas Carabajal converted when he married Estela, his father Julio lives in expectation of the Messiah, and his mother Mariana, a mystic, has not spoken since the age of 12, when she fell into a 30-day trance. As the novel opens, Zacarìas, leaving Estela and their three children--son Gabriel and twin daughters--behind, has set off on yet another search for gold. Estela fears Zacarìas is wasting her dowry and their children's future on these futile ventures; and when Zacarìas shows no signs of returning, she embarks on a brief but intense affair with an Army doctor. Meantime, Zacarìas, frequently traveling through rough and dangerous terrain, has his own amorous diversions. While a hospitable tribal elder and an American woman photographer disguised as a man and add further color, Zacarìas's transformation from a prospector into a visionary and healer lies at the heart of the tale. It's only when the army brutally attacks the old cliff village of Casas Grandes, where Zacarìas and the followers he's gradually gathered have hidden, that he finds the answer to his long quest. Gabriel, it seems likely, will soon be called to a quest of his own. Some characters seem more decorative than essential, but, still, Alcalá offers a beautifully imagined if quiet portrait of the insistent urgings of the human spirit.