The Transmigration of Bodies

by Yuri Herrera, Lisa Dillman (Translator)

A plague has brought death to the city. Two feuding crime families with blood on their hands need our hard-boiled hero, The Redeemer, to broker peace. Both his instincts and the vacant streets warn him to stay indoors, but The Redeemer ventures out into the city’s underbelly to arrange for the exchange of the bodies they hold hostage.

Yuri Herrera’s novel is a response to the violence of contemporary Mexico. With echoes of Romeo and Juliet, Roberto Bolaño and Raymond Chandler, The Transmigration of Bodies is a noirish tragedy and a tribute to those bodies – loved, sanctified, lusted after, and defiled – that violent crime has touched.

Genres: Fiction, Crime, Mystery, Noir, Latin American, Literary Fiction, Novella

112 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 2013

About the author

Born in Actopan, Mexico, in 1970, Yuri Herrera studied Politics in Mexico, Creative Writing in El Paso and took his PhD in literature at Berkeley. His first novel to appear in English, Signs Preceding the End of the World, was published to great critical acclaim in 2015 and included in many Best-of-Year lists, including The Guardian‘s Best Fiction and NBC News’s Ten Great Latino Books, going on to win the 2016 Best Translated Book Award. He is currently teaching at the Tulane University, in New Orleans.

Reviews

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘These days we walk past a body on the street, and we have to stop pretending we can’t see it.’

A plague has overtaken an unnamed city when The Redeemer--a hero with a hardness to rival any hard-boiled noir protagonist coupled with a philosophical soft-spot for humanity--is called to broker the exchange of kidnapped children from rival crime families. The Transmigration of Bodies by Yuri Herrera (translated by Lisa Dillman) is a tight little noir with a lot of power and heart. It is as if Herrera read Raymond Chandler and asked is this all you’ve got? I’ll show you hard-boiled. This novel is a feast of tone that alone could sustain enjoyment through the brief 101 pages, however Herrera treats the reader to a well-nuanced and lived-in, gritty narrative that is sheer delight. Drawing on the violence of the drug wars and Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Herrera plunges the reader into a dark ride alongside the Redeemer as he navigates a world fraught with meanness while still holding on to a belief that people can be good if you only find the right methods of persuasion.

‘The scene had the innocence of all unsettling things that take place in silence.’

The stage for Herrera’s hard-boiled noir is an unnamed city that manages to both be a microcosm of Mexico while still offering an eerie universality to remind the readers that this world lurks all around them no matter where they are. A deadly airborne plague has swept in and everyone is holed up in their homes creating a tense and horrific silence in the once-busy streets. ‘There was no one, nothing, not a single voice, not one sound on an avenue that by that time should have been rammed with cars.’ Those who go out are encouraged to wear masks lest they fall victim to the unknown pandemic. Reading this in the summer of 2020 while wearing my own mask due to our current pandemic, this book hits home right away, particularly the way Herrera shows compliance with masks as a character trait. Tough guys like the Neeyanderthal scoff at them and openly refuse to wear them, but the truest of tough guys like the Redeemer wear one because it makes others feel safe doing so. 'The Redeemer was embarrassed to be wearing a mask and considered taking it off for a minute, but opted to leave it on.'

The virus itself works as a metaphor for the Drug Wars and the randomness of violence which is well paired with several passing scenes of police checkpoints demonstrating police brutality against random civilians such as a solitary punk kid who has his piercings torn from his face by the cops just to give them a laugh. The real horror isn’t the unseen pandemic, though it quietly casts a tense shadow over every scene, but the visible harm people will do to each other.

Herrera is a masterful prose stylist that brings this world to life, and Lisa Dillman expertly renders this into English in a way that retains the quirks of his language. As in his incredible novel Signs Preceding the End of the World, Herrera has a very stylized prose that brings the language of the underworld and street life alive like poetry. Dillman captures this in ways such as writing ‘tho’ instead of ‘though’, or the repeated line ‘fuckit’ that is practically the mantra of the novel (if you are like me your mind rushes to this classic scene). While this doesn’t reach the fever pitch of apocalyptic terror found in Signs, there is still an epic and myth-like quality to the characters, each only being identified through their street names ie. the Unruly, the Dolphin, etc. which Herrera waxes poetic about in one particular passage that shines a cutting, critical eye on the toxic aspects of the underworld culture. There is a subtle poking of fun at the toxic masculinities that tend permeate a lot of noir fiction, with lines such as the gem 'two badasses emerged, with faces that confirmed they were indeed very big badasses' which reads like an tongue-in-cheek eyeroll towards 'tough guys'.

The Redeemer exists to keep events ‘from escalating to a major shitstorm.’ He is a fixer. ‘That was what he knew, how to efface set-in-stone truths.’ There is a beautifully tone-setting scene right at the beginning when the currently unnamed protagonist has his day interrupted by a phone call asking who they are speaking to. ‘Who’s this? the man asked, like he didn’t know what number he’d just dialed.
Who do you think, replied the Redeemer. It’s me.’ And end scene. Immediately the reader knows they are dealing with a badass; you can practically hear the theme song pumping into a movie theater as the title credits wash in and some teenage boy chokes on his popcorn in the front row while yelling “oooooooh shiiiiit!” As previously mentioned, Herrera takes hard-boiled noir, mixes it with some of the dark grit signature to Roberto Bolaño, and then cranks it all up to an unimaginably awesome level.

The Redeemer, however, isn’t some cold-hearted action hero. He figures himself as someone who helps ‘the man who let[s] himself be helped.’ He believes people are good, but can be led astray by rage, grief, misplaced loyalty, booze, you know, all the classic bad decision makers.

often, people were really just waiting for someone to talk them down, offer them a way out of the fight. That was why when he talked sweet he really worked his word. The word is ergonomic, he said. You just have to know how to shape it to each person.

This hero with a heart for humanity is set loose into a pandemic because two crime families each have the other’s child, and, to make matters worse, both are now corpses. How did they get this way, and why is one body being stored in a mansion that mysteriously belongs to one family. Herrera leans into the Shakespeare reference to the Montagues and Capulets by having one child quite literally named Romeo while the other faction are the Castro family.

Despite the dark and horrific tone of the novel, it shines a ray of hope. The deaths, it would seem, are accidental (one by plague) and other teenage children are less kidnappers and more those just trying to help but caught in a bad situation. This is a toxic climate imposed upon them by their fathers and the mythos of a blood feud they aren’t all that interested in actively engaging in beyond playful chiding. Sure, the Castro’s jibe Romeo but ‘There’s just some people you mess with, that’s just the way it is.’ Even the fearsome sister, the Unruly, calls out the patriarchal society for only referring to the rival family’s daughter as Baby Girl. ‘I have a name, that’s what she said the day I took her home with me, don’t call me Baby Girl. And she told me her name.’ As they say, the kids are alright. It is the parents placing them into violence holding a grudge, ‘fighting over ashes.’

‘Unhappy people aren’t the problem. It’s people taking their unhappy out on you.’

This is a brief yet really compelling novella that manages to create a more intense and detailed underworld than most noir novels thrice it’s length. There is even a humorous side-plot threading through the novel of the Redeemer earnestly trying to buy condoms--and failing--so he can honorably make it with the girl he likes. Even the worst of characters, like the crass Neeyanderthal, are humanized and looked at as a product of their sadness. Everyone is judged by their ability to keep going despite the horrors of the world and, as the Redeemer finds, many are able to be decent people if given the right assistance. While this does not compare to the epic quality of his formerly translated novel, Herrera delivers a well-crafted and utterly engaging novella that certainly made my weekend blissful. There is a beautiful heart beating here beneath all the exciting grit.

3.5/5

‘The truth is, the Redeemer said, maybe we’re damned from the start.’

[julieta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Me encantó. Una especie de fábula que se roza sin querer con la realidad ahora mismo. Hay una epidemia que está acabando con todo, y dos familias que pelean. Un lugar en donde el eterno macho está presente, puede ser el norte, puede ser el sur, en todo caso es un pueblo. Alfaqueque, el personaje principal, sabe hablar de una manera en que ayude a la gente a arreglarse. En fin, la historia está entretenida, pero lo más increíble es el lenguaje. Lo que hace Herrera con el lenguaje es buenísimo, es muy pulido, como si fuera nada, y musical. Como una canción norteña, como si fuera un poema lleno de imágenes entre graciosas y horribles. Una maravilla que se lee en dos sentadas, aunque sea un libro para leer más de una vez, y más en tiempos de cuarentenas y bichos y tapabocas.

Lanza frases geniales sin parar.
cosas como:

"La escena tenía la inocencia de las cosas terribles que pasan en silencio."

"Tantas cosas escritas en piedra se habían arrojado que la calle había quedado en ruinas."

"No dijeron nada más. Estaba todo tan callado que se escuchaba el silencio de la Muñe, como si absorbiera cada sonido de la habitación. Era algo duro pero sin forma, ese silencio. Cómo describir lo que no está ahí? Qué nombre se le da a lo que no existe y que precisamente por eso existe? Capos de capos, los que habían inventado el cero, pensó, le habían dado nombre a aquello y hasta lo habían metido en una fila de números, como si pudiera quedarse ahí obediente."

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Despite what I’ve read on the internet to the contrary, this novella was written before Signs Preceding the End of the World but translated into English after the latter. It’s not the work of genius Signs Preceding the End of the World is, but it’s still exceptional, carrying us into a gritty ‘underworld’ with interesting language in the matter of only 100 pages. Its trappings are noir but, for me, that’s not the appeal.

Metempsychosis, the transmigration of souls, is what the title evokes, but bodies—living then dead—are what migrate from one dark corner of the unnamed town to another. The Castro-Fonseca feud (a la Capulet-Montague) is one the fathers have forced upon their children, who only pretend to be a part of it. The younger generation is the hope, as always; but is it, as always, too late?

The respect given to dead bodies seems of a higher order than what is given to those bodies when alive. The daughter of one family tells the father of the other that his daughter wants her name, not her nickname, which is a diminishing one. Except in one instance, everyone else is also called by a nickname, or an appellation.

The city is on lockdown due to a plague (a plague a’ both your houses!) thought to be transmitted by mosquitoes. Everyone should be wearing a mask (another reference to Romeo and Juliet?) but they are in short supply. The streets are mostly deserted and the protagonist wonders why everyone has so meekly accepted “enclosure” (within their homes) when the government has no clue as to what should be done, which I took to be a reference to the response to Mexico’s drug wars.

Dark humor abounds, with live bodies being connected to both sex and death: the protagonist has slapped a mosquito biting his neck, yet searches for a condom to fulfill his need for another's body; a stripper wearing only a mask thrills a group of men as she teases taking it off. And then there’s the writing: not just interesting but some of it beautiful, especially a passage about silence and absence due to death. Once again I’ve found in a Herrera novella much more than you might think could be accomplished with such sparseness.

[Henk · Rating 2 out of 5]

A Romeo and Juliet retelling in a city encroached by a pandemic. Despite the short length I found the novella a bit confusing and surprisingly sweet in its conclusion
Normally it’s the dead that are rotten, not the living, the Unruly said.

I found The Transmigration of Bodies quite a confusing read: initially a lot of the characters have either functions or nicknames as monickers. The main character, the Redeemer, is a fixer for two powerful families in an unnamed city. He is quite macho, with a sex scene with his neighbour in the first 20 pages, and doesn't seem to care a lot about a mosquito driven pandemic unfolding in the city.
Yuri Herrera reinterprets Romeo and Juliet, but sometimes seems to cut some corners storywise: the lockdown due to a supermalaria is just starting at the beginning of the book and halfway in the next day the main character visits someone and says that he might be able to talk since he has been in lockdown for so long. The Romeo and Juliet angle is inventive but also feels a little to neat in its conclusion, as does the reflective nature of our hardboiled Redeemer, with him thinking things like: All good things are but part of something terrible.

A quick read, 2,5 stars rounded down.

[Book Riot Community]

I’d recommend this book for the nicknames alone: The Redeemer, Romeo, Neanderthal, Three Times Blonde and (my favorite) The Unruly. Every character gets one – because why the hell not? And what Yuri Herrera calls his characters is just one of the many details that had me falling hard for this book. A deadly disease, transmitted by mosquitoes, has the city under siege. The protagonist, known as The Redeemer, has been summoned by a local crime boss, a.k.a. the Dolphin, to arrange a hostage exchange. A rival family has the Dolphin’s son and the Dolphin has taken their daughter in retaliation. Bad stuff is about to go down. But of course there’s more to the story than what The Redeemer is being told. Herrera transforms elements of Shakespearean tragedy, dystopian fiction and hard-boiled crime into something truly original (and under 112 pages). My perfect read for a hot summer day.

–Tara Cheesman



from The Best Books We Read In June 2016: http://bookriot.com/2016/06/29/riot-r...

[Hugh · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was the shortest book I had on the to read shelf while I was waiting for my first few postal deliveries from the Republic of Consciousness prize longlist, and was one of four books I ordered in one of the And Other Stories sales last year (two of which are still sitting on the shelf). It is my second Herrera novel after Signs Preceding the End of the World, but I have to admit that it was harder to enjoy than that book.

Herrera packs a lot into the 95 pages of text, and I found it quite easy to imagine the book as a potential film noir. It was published years before Covid, but it does take place in a nameless city dealing with a deadly plague. The opening describes the hung over protagonist waking to an almost deserted city and desperate to find water. We then move into a more conventional gang war scenario with echoes of Romeo and Juliet, in which two gangs blame each other for the deaths of two young adults, neither of which was deliberate. The main protagonist, known simply as the Redeemer, is a gangland fixer who is charged with finding a resolution to the crisis.

[Sgrtkn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Arka kapakta ölümcül salgın görünce distopya sanarak başladığım kitap dümdüz yeraltı edebiyatı çıktı

[Maxwell · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is quite different than the other Herrera novel, [books: Signs Preceding the End of the World], that I read a few years ago. I remember really liking the atmosphere of that story, which is definitely continued here, but subject-wise they are vastly different. This one is more of a classic noir, containing all the tropes that come with that, both good and bad. For only a 100-page novel, it has quite a few explicit sex scenes that seemed to take up a good portion of the story; tbh I could've done without some of that excess. Overall it did feel a bit more like an experiment in style or genre than in a very substantive novel.

[Cosimo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Aiutare chi si lascia aiutare

“Certe notti, quando la bestia nera lo lasciava in pace, immaginava di dormire nelle viscere di qualche altro animale che così lo proteggeva dal freddo. Ma quella notte la bestia non lo mollava”.

C'è un epidemia e la formula che tutti si sentono ripetere suona così: “Restate a casa”. Ma, nonostante per lui la casa offra piacevoli passatempi condivisi con una intelligente bellezza di genere femminile, il Mediatore non riesce a rimanere nella quiete dal momento in cui viene convolto in una sorta di faida familiare e di clan, di scontro tra incendiarie vendette e ipotesi di carneficine che solo la sua sapiente abilità di negoziare può definitivamente estinguere. Così, mentre la malattia incontra una cura, l'antieroe di Herrera ascolta i protagonisti degli aspri conflitti e piange i corpi delle struggenti vittime. Il Messico è uno sterminato silenzio, un vuoto metafisico dove nessun debito può giustificare il peso di ogni singola esistenza senza nome, senza voce, resa reale solo dalla traiettoria impalpabile di un revolver e dalla lama affilata di un coltello. C'è un doppio rapimento in questa storia e ci sono morti inspiegabili, dove le cause irresponsabili tolgono il respiro a ragione e pietà. Le bande e i narcos trattano i nemici ferocemente, compongono un orrore trasparente tra discoteche e donne nude e fiumi di tequila: tutto inutile ai vivi, ogni cosa nel segno di un delitto e di una preghiera. La sensazione, nel seguire le trame investigative e sanguinarie di Herrera, dove il sesso e l'onore sono al primo posto, è che la scintilla da cui tutto ha origine risieda sempre in qualcosa di arcaico e al tempo stesso imbattibile, come una divinità sorda al nostro dolore o un padre comune che non riconosce alcuna discendenza. In una dimensione gergale e meticcia, dove il narcocorrido affianca il fraseggio tragico, Herrera è geografo della rassegnazione e del mezcal: dipinge individui ormai irrecuperabili, soggetti assetati del dolore delle loro prede, senza più possibili redenzioni, anche se nell'insieme l'autore delude l'immaginazione.

[Vanessa · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars.

This book was kindly sent to me by the publisher after I requested it for review. All opinions are my own.

This was my first Herrera book, and it certainly won't be my last. In The Transmigration of Bodies, we follow a couple of days in the life of The Redeemer, caught in the middle of two feuding families who each possess a body belonging to the other. His job is to make the trade.

I don't think I have read any hard-boiled crime fiction not set in America, so this look into the Mexican underbelly was a breath of fresh air. This novella is full of sex, language, but surprisingly little violence. What it does feel is incredibly real, and I could feel the threat of disease and the heat of the sun on me as I was reading it. Herrera's prose is compulsively readable, and I thought the translation by Lisa Dillman was done incredibly well.

However, this was just a little too short for me, and there were points where I found myself losing track of what was going on. Despite the plot being fairly simple, I found myself wanting more backstory to the families as it was sometimes difficult remembering how to tell them apart. I wanted to know their history hating each other, how they each got to where they were, and more about the young victims.

Overall though, this was a thoroughly entertaining read, and won't take you long if you're looking to try out some translated fiction.

[Matt Quann · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this pretty difficult to follow, and vacillated between enjoying and hating the prose. Nonetheless, I trudged on--mostly for the writing--so I guess Herrera's style grew on me by novella's end! This is a sort of noir about two rival crime families in Mexico during the outbreak of an infectious disease where everyone is wearing a mask. It's more than a little strange, but our lead, The Redeemer, is a a compelling booze-soaked former lawyer who interacts with some cool characters and has a few rounds of explicit sex. As I said, this was a bit difficult to get a grasp on, but I'm curious enough that I think I'll try out Signs Preceding the End of the World by Herrera later this year.

[Rincey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Might be closer to a 3.5 stars, but still a great reading experience

[Aleksandra Fatic · Rating 5 out of 5]

Čudnijih i morbidnijih knjiga, a manjih, odavno nijesam čitala! Ne znam ni zašto dajem 5⭐️, možda jer eto, na kraju svega, ljudskost i dobrota pobjeđuju strah i sebičnost!

[Gentleman-and-scholar · Rating 1 out of 5]

Even though it is still very early in 2017, this will most probably be the worst book I read this year, it really ticks every box:

The characters are so uninteresting. flat and generic that they don't even have their own names. Seriously, just -gang-type- nicknames. The protagonist is no exception: a tough-guy, underworld-type that sometime gets laid. That is his most defining characteristic throughout the book. Sometimes he will blurt out some pretentious quotes that sound as cheesy as mature cheddar. All of this could be made better by an interesting setting and a decent plot.
Of course, we get neither. The setting is a city (might as well be called random_city_49) and the plot is about an exchange between the bodies of two descendants of two rival families. Did I mention we are trying to prevent a gang war and exchange two bodies in a city with a massive epidemic going on? Yup, priorities.

On top of all of this, the writing seems just off. I am not sure if it is because of the translation (read the english version) or the writer taking himself too seriously, but reading phrases like "Two badasses emerged, with faces that confirmed they were indeed very big badasses" really adds to the aforementioned cheesiness.

A final point: Including completely unnecessary and fairly detailed sex scenes does not improve the quality of the book. It just makes the lack of quality so much obvious.

[A. Raca · Rating 3 out of 5]

"İşte bu yüzden uzaklaşmaya başladığımızda dostlarımızın düşmanı olmaya da başlarız, diye düşündü. Çünkü o zaman yaptığımız yanlışlar ortak yanlışlarımız olmaktan çıkar sadece onların üstüne kalır."

Rastgele açtığım kitabın, salgından, yasaklardan bahsetmesi...

😟

[Mayk Can Şişman · Rating 2 out of 5]

Kitabın arka kapağını okuduğunuzda bir distopya ile karşılaşacağını sanıyorsunuz. Ama sayfalar ilerledikçe vasat bir yeraltı edebiyatı okuduğunuzu fark ediyorsunuz. Yılın büyük hayal kırıklarından biriydi bu kitap benim için...

[jeremy · Rating 3 out of 5]

the second of yuri herrera's novels to be translated into english (after the best translated book award-winning signs preceding the end of the world), the transmigration of bodies (la transmigración de los cuerpos) is a noirish tale set amid a nascent, (presumably) mosquito-borne epidemic. concerning the deaths of two youngsters from opposing families, the mexican novelist's newest book offers a nod to the bard, while capturing the essence of pervasive violence and a city on the precipice of potential disaster.

with a colorful (if a little thinly sketched) cast of characters – referred to solely by nicknames – the transmigration of bodies focuses on the redeemer, a fixer tasked with recovering both bodies and facilitating an exchange between their warring families. full of foreboding and rising action (and lasciviousness), herrera's shadowy tableau evokes the darker (and more expertly crafted) elements of a bolaño short story. the transmigration of bodies is a fine, even captivating novel, but, given its brevity, lacks a certain something that could otherwise infuse the story with greater import (a complaint i had about signs, too).

no doubt, herrera is a gifted storyteller, one whom, given his choice of subjects, is obviously unafraid to delve into the realm of crime, violence, and instability. the transmigration of bodies is a strong outing, but leaves the reader looking for a little more substance. nonetheless, eagerly awaiting the third book in herrera's (loose) trilogy, trabajos del reino (kingdom cons) – tentatively scheduled for a 2017 release.

which, logically, was taken to mean lock yourself up or this fucker will take you down, because we've unleashed some serious wrath.

*translated from the spanish by lisa dillman (signs preceding the end of the world, eduardo halfon, barba, filloy, et al.)

[Elizabeth☮ · Rating 4 out of 5]

A post-apocalyptic setting in a big city. There is a virus that is killing people and everyone is told to shelter in place.

Our narrator, The Redeemer, is growing antsy in his apartment, but soon is given a task. His task is complicated by two warring families that he finds himself trying to navigate in order to complete said task.

I don't want to give away elements of the story, because I think you need to gain understanding organically as the plot unfolds.

I like Herrera's use of language. Even though this is a translated work, you can tell that language is malleable for Herrera and he doesn't stick to standard forms of speaking to get his point across.

[Lucas Sierra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Delicia musical esta novela que se lee en parpadeos consecutivos, firme prosa en encajarse en la fuerza de su lírica sumada a la certeza del lenguaje. Es que venga, si el personaje principal es un hablador, uno que se gana la vida resolviendo los azares a punta de lengua, pues tendría que verse en la novela. Y se ve, carajo, que es lo bueno, que es lo bien encajado.

Muchas ganas de seguir con Herrera. Muchas ganas de seguir.

[Lizzy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Confusing and detached. Thought this would focus on the epidemic mentioned in the synopsis, but it was actually about this stereotypical gangster type guy with no emotional depth trying to fuck his neighbour whilst 'solving' extremely confusing cartel murders. Not to mention he's a raging misogynist and overall just a highly uninteresting character to read from. The plot did nothing for me as it made no sense and I don't often care for standard crime stories

[Fabia Consorti · Rating 4 out of 5]

Altra lettura lampo, molto soddisfacente! La trama in sé è non è nulla di eccezionale, ma ho adorato l’atmosfera leggermente cupa e inquietante che c’è dalla prima all’ultima riga. Un autore che approfondirò!

[Gülüzar - Ertl · Rating 3 out of 5]

Normalde ölülerin bozulmaya başlaması gerekir, yaşayanların değil, dedi İtaatsiz.

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

A hard boiled tale of a pandemic where a face mask is as essential to a private dick as a left cross and a Teflon liver. Set in a hallucinational Mexico a fixer stumbles awake to find the world has been broken. He is named the Redeemer, which suggests some divine underpinning, something almost absurd in these circumstances. After satisfying most of the his genre requirements he is presented with his task. The execution thereof is laced with the expected levels of violence and decadence. It is also alleged to be philosophical but somehow ethical arguments couched in hard-boiled argot aren't the most persuasive, despite being fun. This was a lower gear diversion and I respect it for such, especially the timely touches, though I fear everyone should have spent more time washing their hands.

[Kamil · Rating 2 out of 5]

Noir crime novel with reference to Romeo and Juliet and dystopian fiction. Quite witty. Herrera managed to pack into this tiny novel a lot, using intelligently every page of the book - nicknames carrying more depth than 2 pages characterisation in other books often do. What he didn't do, at least failed with me was to evoke any emotions, I was hooked for the first 2 dozen pages and then when Romeo and Juliet part started I was just pushing to the end.... Hence - OK.

[Bill · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved it. Short and sweet noir. Not as postmodern as Signs Preceding the End of the World but I really enjoyed it. I need to learn Spanish so I can read the rest of Herrera's work.

[Jesus Flores · Rating 3 out of 5]

He de decir que el libro está bien construido, lleva de forma fluida la estructura de la historia, te muestra a los personajes vía sus acciones y diálogos. Y el autor hace gala del manejo del lenguaje, poniendo en las voces de los personajes, modismos y muletillas acordes a su manera mientras en contraste utiliza un léxico más adornado y menos habitual, esto le imprime un ritmo bitonal a la lectura.

La ambientación es para cuando fue escrito, algo que quizá fue novedoso, y seguro termino siendo profético, una pandemia donde una ciudad vacía, y donde el encierro de las personas las lleva a comportamientos fuera de su cotidianeidad.

Mi problema es que, con todos esos puntos a su favor, la historia no me intereso, el personaje principal no logro convencerme de la importancia de su misión o de su deseo.

Un libro muy bonito y bien trabajado pero que no me transmite nada.

2.5 stars
Que subimos por el apodo de Ñandertal.

[Rafa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leedlo, @yuri_herrera supera la narración de sus anteriores historias, y demuestra un interesante sentido del humor.

[Samuel Gordon · Rating 4 out of 5]

A short entertaining read. Impressive world-building for a dystopian novel under 90 pages. Off to reading Signs Preceding the End of the World next.

[Jolanta (knygupė) · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5*

Fantastiskai parasyta, bet man gal kiso koja noir'iskumas.

[✨ jami ✨]

not as good as signs preceding the end of the world i fear but still good