Are you concerned about global warming, rising sea levels, and the global human migration problem that will result if/when every coastal city on earth disappears underwater?
Yes? Me too.
Do you believe teen/YA readers are also worried about global warming, rising sea levels, and the pending migration sh*tastrophe humanity faces due to human-caused climate change?
Yes? Me too.
Do you like to read stories set in Mexico?
Yes? Me too.
I expected that the 2016 YA contemporary novel, "Saint Death," would be a 5-star read for me. My worries and feelings about climate change and social justice mirror many of the worries and feelings author Marcus Sedgwick felt compelled to write about in this novel. I also loved that the story is set in Ciudad Juárez, the largest city in the Mexican state of Chihuahua—and one of the most dangerous cities along the U.S./Mexican border.
If you are aware that Ciudad Juárez will not disappear underwater if/when ocean levels rise, then we have that in common. If you are wondering if any of the Mexican characters in this novel are questioning the impact of rising sea levels on Mexico and the rest of the world, the answer is no, they are not.
Does that raise any red flags that the story structure of “Saint Death” might have some problems? Maybe, maybe not. Some readers enjoy omniscient narrators who insert random, tangential arguments into novels, information that wouldn’t otherwise fit into a book. But this preachy, polemical story structure definitely did not work for me.
The prose in the first half of “Saint Death” is really strong—the writing here was well-crafted and a pleasure to read. The characters felt real, their situation gripped me right away, I felt invested in the plot. I loved all the details about religion and modern Mexican culture woven into the first half of the novel, and didn't want to put the book down. Marcus Sedgwick has a lot of talent and a beautiful prose style, and he’s certainly a strong writer.
But in the second half of “Saint Death,” everything fell apart. The characters lost their dignity, integrity, and all believability. Reality was shunted aside, and the plot became a distant afterthought to the real point of this book: to serve as a platform for an Author Soapbox, and all the criticism and preaching that comes along with that soapbox.
After finishing "Saint Death," it is clear that author Marcus Sedgwick didn't write this book to allow his Mexican characters to discuss international trade laws, the impact of globalization on climate change, or disastrous immigration laws. The main characters in "Saint Death" are impoverished, uneducated (or barely-educated) slum dwellers, orphaned teens who are desperate to enter the U.S. These brown-skinned, Spanish-speaking teens also hope to avoid being tortured and killed, but since they live in a town run by drug lords, corrupt cops, and pretty much everyone in this book is a brainless scumbag, you can probably guess how things turn out for them.
Throughout the novel, an omniscient third person narrative/authorial voice makes constant appearances, telling the reader that CORPORATIONS ARE BAD and GLOBAL WARMING IS BAD and IF SOMETHING DOESN'T CHANGE then Every City On Earth will turn into Juárez: a festering cesspool of anarchy, torture, and murder. The author repeatedly asks the reader, ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?? with lots of random asides in the exposition as well as in authorial inserts that interrupt the story like commercial breaks. These interruptions grow in frequency until the second half of the book, when they finally hijack the novel and turn the book into a polemic against international corporations, abhorrent immigration policies, and the pending global disaster of climate change.
As the omniscient narrative voice makes clear: when ocean levels rise, and the sh*tastrophe of human-caused climate change hits, everyone on earth will know what it's like to live in borderland Mexico, because this level of corruption, anarchy, and human depravity is The Future. (As in: Foregone Conclusion. As in: “Saint Death” As Prescience. There is no escape.)
The poor, crushed brown people in this book are all either involved in the drug trade, illegally crossing the border, or being butchered by soulless drug lords. They die horrible deaths after leading ignorant lives of desperation. And according to the omniscient narrative voice of this novel, the senseless deaths of these impoverished brown people are all a WARNING for the affluent neighborhoods of the United States and the rest of the world. The mutilated, broken bodies on display in "Saint Death" are meant to serve as a warning to the wealthy, privileged reader to WAKE UP and BE SCARED because NO ONE would want their nice, safe neighborhood in the White World of Privilege to turn into Juárez.
Plus, there's a lot of biblical messaging and Jesus on the cross references, with ancient seas standing in for an extra heavy-handed dose of God cleansing the earth metaphorical imagery, because why let a character "just die" in a book when the scene can be overdetermined and loaded with sacrificial vocabulary to make everything sound Even More Important and Super Meaningful? Everyone loves a good Christian redemption tale; “Saint Death” certainly assumes so.
In case you believe that everyone in Juárez is either an impoverished slum dweller, or a depraved drug trafficker or human trafficker who has sacrificed every bit of their integrity to survive, I would like to point out that there are plenty of educated Mexican teens who could've discussed—in their own character voices—the problems in Juárez, including dehumanizing trade laws, abhorrent immigration policies, human trafficking, drug trafficking, and the threat global warming poses to Mexico and the rest of the world. I would also like to point out that the author could've *chosen* to write about Mexican characters who are fully capable of discussing these issues in their own words, rather than relying on authorial inserts to transmit his polemic through uneducated slum dwellers.
I must also repeat that the writing in the first half of this book is very strong, and that this book had so much potential to be amazing. My hopes were so high that "Saint Death" would deliver a really powerful story.
But all of the Mexican characters in “Saint Death” were the same kind of impoverished brown people and heartless brown criminals that White Society keeps holding up as representations of "Mexico" -- and I'm not only extremely tired of this, I don't think it's right to use uneducated brown people as story vehicles for concerns that have nothing to do with their lived realities.
The main character of this book, a fourteen-year-old Mexican boy named Arturo, is not wringing his hands over rising sea levels caused by global warming. He is also not ruminating over the rapidly increasing effects of climate change due to a globalized economy that preys upon people in poverty. Arturo becomes aware of unfair trade laws in the second half of this book, after the sole white character preaches to Arturo at length about disastrous trade laws. This white man also informs Arturo that international corporations treat people like sh*t, and he brings up a lot of other stuff Arturo has never considered before. Even though Arturo knows he is hours away from being butchered and tortured to death by a soulless drug lord, he still takes time to consider the white man’s screed against corporate power.
While Arturo does understand that crossing into the United States is difficult, he is not concerned with the global human migration problem, and that is not even part of the white character’s screed in this book—that is the sole domain of the omniscient narrative inserts. Arturo dreams of fish and the ocean because the author wanted to add imagery about the rising sea levels that threaten to flood so many coastal cities on earth.
I kept picturing Arturo as a small, fragile donkey, a human beast of burden who is loaded down with a story-weight six times his own size: a lumpy, ungainly package stuffed full of all the philosophical, economic, and political points the author wanted to make in this book.
In the second half of "Saint Death," Arturo betrays himself and the established reality of the story in order to behave as the author wanted him to. Arturo attacks a young woman/teen girl without ever reflecting on the behavior of the drug traffickers and all the "disappeared" women repeatedly brought up in the story, even though these missing women have had such a huge impact on Arturo's own life. He never realizes that he has suddenly become what he hates, and only stops his behavior when he realizes the money to be gained from his attack isn't enough to save him, so continued effort is pointless.
Then Arturo lets the reader know he had a far more selfish reason to go out of his way to help his friend Faustino. If you're looking for selfless heroes in Mexico, best look elsewhere.
And most problematically, Arturo wants the reader to believe that anyone can just show up at a border crossing anytime with some money in their pocket and hire a coyote. (Goodbye, reality; I guess you really never existed in this book.) And Arturo would also like the reader to know that somehow all the details shared in the story about drug lords hunting people down was not really true, and that people who have betrayed a gang leader can still escape with their lives.
Um, okay. Thanks for reminding me reality never existed in this book.
Also, if a friend owns a gun, and you're facing a long and torturous gang death that you know you cannot escape, wouldn't a bullet be the preferred way to go? Wouldn’t Arturo be intelligent enough to reason that out for himself? Nothing about the book's ending made any logical sense, given the details on the page.
Everyone in "Saint Death" does reprehensible things, and the story uses mutilation and death as the primary forms of redemption. (Because affluent white readers all love a good Christian redemption tale, of course.) There is also a LOT of cussing in Spanish, which emphasizes the impoverished, uneducated state of the main characters, but I don't think all of these curse words would ever have been printed in English. Placing so many curse words in Spanish allowed the story to have a lot more foul language than is typical in most YA novels right now.
If you are in the mood to read a White Man’s Burden lashed to the skinny back of an impoverished brown boy born on the wrong side of a border, then “Saint Death” is the novel for you.