Skip to main content

Mexico – A Review




Reading Mexico: Stories by Josh Barkan will make one think that Donald Trump’s demand for the border wall is justified.  Mexico comes across in these 12 stories as a country of drug dealers and their mafia along with prostitutes and quite many people who resort to violence without too much provocation.  The stories are set in the capital city where “To live ... you have to pretend there aren’t many dangers” [‘Everything else is going to be fine’].

Each of the twelve stories shocks us with a different variety of danger.  In the very first one, ‘The Chef and El Chapo’, we meet “the most badass narco in the country” who is ushered into the Chef’s restaurant by a retinue of his AK-47 swinging guards for a uniquely tasty meal.  The Chef is under duress to prepare that exquisite meal the type of which the Boss has not tasted so far.  The reputation of the Chef is at stake.  Worse, his life as well as those of the clients present in the restaurant is in danger as the Boss’s ego can be provoked dangerously and too easily.  The Chef finds a way.  He mixes his blood with the dish.  But his blood has certain bitterness that comes with age and experience of the world.  So he adds the blood of a little innocent girl whose thumb he cuts in order to procure the blood.  The Boss who does not know of the secret ingredient yet relishes the meal.  But the subsequent knowledge does not bother him unduly.  He cannot go back on his promise to reward the Chef if he relished the meal.  The Chef’s ego is comparatively diminutive and hence he regrets what he did.

The violence and darkness notwithstanding, each story has much humanity too in it.  Each story throws light on both sides of human nature: the dark and the bright; sin and the potential for redemption.  This makes the collection eminently rewarding in spite of all the darkness that may nauseate the reader occasionally. 

I found the story ‘The God of Common Names’ particularly profound.  “This is a Romeo and Juliet story.”  Thus begins the tale which goes on to narrate the tragic end of two adolescents in love.  The boy and the girl were the offspring of two notorious drug dealers who are each other’s rivals.  Their teacher, a non-religious Jew, tries his best to save his students but fails.  The teacher himself married a woman against her father’s fervently religious appeals.  The very religious father, according to the teacher-narrator, negates life (not very unlike the drug pusher) while wrapping his self in a small bundle of virtue, blind to essential things of life.  Like most religious people, the father wants the teacher to “denounce who he was” for the sake of God and religious traditions.

Every story is a gem by its own right.  The drawback, however, is the violence in which each is steeped.  Each story is narrated by a first person narrator which makes the story very convincing and personal.  But as we move on to the second half of the book we may feel a sense of déjà vu in spite of the fact that the narrator is an entirely different person, belonging to another walk of life that we have not seen so far. 

We meet a whole spectrum of narrators in this collection ranging from a retired nurse to a drug peddler, musician to plastic surgeon, painter to architect.  But all of them present a rather dark picture of Mexico City.  The book deserves to be read, however, if only to realise that there is much potential for redemption in spite of all that wretchedness. 

PS. I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

Visit Josh Barkan, the author, at his website HERE

Comments

  1. Definitely sounds dark based on your review and the 'thumb' incident.....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The thumb incident shows how the narco dealers feed on human blood metaphorically. But it can be very offputting, no doubt.

      Delete
  2. I wonder, how you managed to keep reading the stories one after another, if every new story kept introducing new shades of darkness only.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It took me a week to finish the book, Kaustubh. Anyway, as I've mentioned in the review, there is a redeeming factor in every story in spite of the violence and darkness.

      Delete
  3. Sounds like I should also give this book a try.
    Thanks for inspiring

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

Sardar Patel and Unity

All pro-PM newspapers carried this ad today, 31 Oct 2025 No one recognised Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel as he stood looking at the 182-m tall statue of himself. The people were waiting anxiously for the Prime Minister whose eloquence would sway them with nationalistic fervour on this 150 th birth anniversary of Sardar Patel. “Is this unity?” Patel wondered looking at the gigantic version of himself. “Or inflation?” Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi chuckled standing beside Patel holding a biodegradable iPhone. “The world has changed, Sardar ji. They’ve built me in wax in London.” He looked amused. “We have become mere hashtags, I’d say.” That was Jawaharlal Nehru joining in a spirit of camaraderie. “I understand that in the world’s largest democracy now history is optional. Hashtags are mandatory.” “You know, Sardar ji,” Gandhi said with more amusement, “the PM has released a new coin and a stamp in your honour on your 150 th birth anniversary.”  “Ah, I watched the function too,” ...

Being Christian in BJP’s India

A moment of triumph for India’s women’s cricket team turned unexpectedly into a controversy about religious faith and expression, thanks to some right-wing footsloggers. After her stellar performance in the semi-final of the Wormen’s World Cup (2025), Jemimah Rodrigues thanked Jesus for her achievement. “Jesus fought for me,” she said quoting the Bible: “Stand still and God will fight for you” [1 Samuel 12:16]. Some BJP leaders and their mindless followers took strong exception to that and roiled the religious fervour of the bourgeoning right wing with acerbic remarks. If Ms Rodrigues were a Hindu, she would have thanked her deity: Ram or Hanuman or whoever. Since she is a Christian, she thanked Jesus. What’s wrong in that? If she was a nonbeliever like me, God wouldn’t have topped the list of her benefactors. Religion is a talisman for a lot of people. There’s nothing wrong in imagining that some god sitting in some heaven is taking care of you. In fact, it gives a lot of psychologic...

The wisdom of the Mahabharata

Illustration by Gemini AI “Krishna touches my hand. If you can call it a hand, these pinpricks of light that are newly coalescing into the shape of fingers and palm. At his touch something breaks, a chain that was tied to the woman-shape crumpled on the snow below. I am buoyant and expansive and uncontainable – but I always was so, only I never knew it! I am beyond the name and gender and the imprisoning patterns of ego. And yet, for the first time, I’m truly Panchali. I reach with my other hand for Karna – how surprisingly solid his clasp! Above us our palace waits, the only one I’ve ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming and dissolving again like fireflies in a summer evening.” What is quoted above is the final paragraph of Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s novel The Palace of Illusions which I reread in the last few days merely because I had time on my hands and this book hap...