[close] Where Latin American fiction is concerned, miracles happen every day. Indeed, upon opening a novel written by a Mexican, Chilean, Colombian, or Cuban author, one is slightly disappointed if at least three impossible things don't happen before the opening chapter is over. María Amparo Escandón's first novel fulfills this expectation on its first page when Esperanza Díaz tells her parish priest that San Judas Tadeo appeared to her in her oven window: <blockquote> He floated toward me, like a piñata dangling from a rope. The grease drippings shone like amber. He looked directly into my eyes. He was so beautiful. His hair was blond and a little curly. He had a beard, just like Jesus Christ. He said, "Your daughter is not dead." </blockquote> This is a miracle indeed, since Esperanza, a young widow, has recently lost her 12-year-old daughter during a routine tonsillectomy. But when the saint appears to her with his glad tidings, the bereaved mother begins to wonder if her daughter might not have been spirited away by unscrupulous doctors and sold into white slavery. Determined to reclaim her child, Esperanza hits the road, embarking on a picaresque journey that will take her from her little Mexican town to the brothels of Tijuana and eventually to Los Angeles. Along the way she meets a variety of colorful characters including a professional wrestler who just may be the man to change our heroine's mind about never marrying again.

If at times Escandón's blithe tale seems tailor-made for movies, that's because it is. In addition to writing both English and Spanish versions of the novel, she has also authored the screenplay for Esperanza's film debut. In the case of Esperanza's Box of Saints, the cinematic touches nicely complement the book's larger-than-life characters, from best friend and fellow-widow Soledad, or poor Father Salvador, the hapless recipient of Esperanza's occasionally X-rated confessions, to Angel, the keeper of her heart. All in all, this is a book guaranteed to charm and amuse. --Alix Wilber [close]