Ameksyka to wstrząsająca historia terroru rozgrywającego się na pograniczu amerykańsko-meksykańskim - w swoistym państwie, które należy zarówno do Stanów Zjednoczonych, jak i Meksyku, a jednocześnie do żadnego z nich - w czasie gdy wojna narkotykowa osiąga tam największe nasilenie. W 2009 roku, po wielu latach pracy korespondenta, Ed Vulliamy ruszył w podróż wzdłuż tej granicy, od wybrzeża Pacyfiku po Zatokę Meksykańską, od Tijuany do Matamoros, w podróż przez krwawy krajobraz korupcji i wojny domowej, a zarazem piękna, radości i życia. Dzięki temu może opisać, jak działają kartele i gangi, jak organizuje się przemyt ludzi, narkotyków i broni, jak z Meksyku ucieka klasa średnia, a rosnąca popularność amerykańskiej kultury celebrytów podsyca przemoc; wyjaśnia powiązania biznesu narkotykowego z gospodarką; opisuje bezlitosne morderstwa kobiet w Ciudad Juarez. Bohaterowie, łotrzy i ofiary - odważni i samotni policjanci, księża, kobiety, dziennikarze walczący z przemocą; gangi i płatni mordercy - wszystko to ożywa w tej wyjątkowej książce.
Picking up Amexica: War Along the Borderline by journalist Ed Vulliamy, I was initially excited, thinking here might be an accessible book by a veteran journalist capable of explaining to the English-speaking public just what is going on in Mexico and why. Naïve, I know. My suspicions were raised as early as the second paragraph when the author mistranslated the extremely common Spanish-language sign-off Atte: as Look out. Atte: is actually an abbreviation of Atentamente, simply meaning Sincerely. Get something that basic that wrong that early in the book, and I knew I was in for a ride - downhill.
In short, Amexica is part travelogue, part sympathetic recounting of the devastation of the militarization of the war on drugs, and part “look at what daring stuff this white guy did.” Vulliamy gets some things right - pointing out the fact that the drug trade is just another form of transnational capitalism; examining the U.S. role in arming the cartels and laundering their money; describing the toll neoliberalism has taken on Mexico in terms of migration and maquiladoras; and putting names and faces on some the 35,000+ dead in Felipe Calderón’s disastrous so-called fight against organized crime. The main problem is that all of this is carried out superficially and with a lack of historical context and political analysis, along with omissions and errors. As such, if you want to know how things are right now in the borderlands, reading this book might be somewhat useful. If you want to know why things are they way they are right now, this book will not help you.
In glossing over the past to get to the juicy, bloody present, Vulliamy does his readers a disservice. There is no discussion of how the war on drugs as a concept emerged in the Nixon-era and developed as a strategy of population containment and oppression, a politically expedient and enormously profitable endeavor that since 2001 has coalesced well with the rhetoric of the war on terror and Bush and Obama’s war on migrants. The end of 70 years of PRI rule in Mexico on the federal level, dismantling the pre-existing arrangements with the drug cartels just as they were getting more powerful due to the collapse of the Colombian cartels, goes nearly unexamined. Similarly ignored is the role that Calderón’s legitimacy played in the launching of a military offensive inside of Mexico. As he fraudulently arrived at the presidency, the drug war was a means of instilling his regime with legitimacy. Scant attention is paid to the Mérida Initiative, the U.S.’s billion dollar military aid package to Mexico, nor to how the same police and military forces receiving the aid and executing the “drug war” are also involved in large scale human rights violations, massive corruption, and the severe repression of Mexico’s social movements - all with impunity. Linking these factors to the current events that this book covers is essential for any understanding of the situation.
Adding to the contextual shortcomings of the book are the various errors and poor translations. It’s stunning his editors either in the U.K. or U.S. did not hire a translator to verify his Spanish - or at least open a Spanish-English dictionary. Some of the more humorous examples: He translates gabacho as someone from Europe and gringo as someone from the U.S. (Both mean someone from the U.S., Vulliamy would simply be a güero); and translating fresa - in reference to someone who dresses or acts bourgeois - literally as strawberry. Regarding the facts, some examples of errors: The claim that Carlos Salinas privatized communally-held land in the 1980s. (He only arrived at the presidency in December of 1988, privatization did not begin until after the 1992 reform of Article 27 of the Mexican Constitution in preparation for NAFTA.) Vulliamy’s statement that the Arrellano Félix Organization intentionally killed Cardinal Posadas Ocampo in 1993 in order to target the Catholic Church. (Initial investigations showed they confused Posadas’ convoy with that of a rival cartel leader. More recent investigations indicate the assassination was likely state-sponsored.) Or also his writing that “the only investigation of its kind” into Los Zetas penetration into Monterrey was carried out by a Los Angeles Times reporter, ignoring those done by Mexican journalists or Kristin Bricker for Narco News.
In sum, Vulliamy’s book leaves much to be desired and that which is present should be cautiously digested. Even if it took a bit longer to put out, a more thoroughly-considered and better edited version of this book would have made a much more useful contribution to this politically-manufactured crisis facing Mexico and increasingly the U.S.
So far my main goal is to try to get over how many spelling mistakes there are in the Spanish and focus on what Vulliamy is saying. It is difficult given I am still only at the prologue and I've tallied 14 mistakes so far which is frankly embarrassing for Vintage. Hopefully it won't get worse (though clearly it will) and I will be able to get through Amexica without hurtling it across the room unfinished. Here's to hoping... Ok...so ages later I've finished. My verdict is that this book is little more than poverty porn with a pathetic and ineffective attempt at analysis. I was especially put off by the chapter talking about feminicide which did nothing more than enumerate murders without trying to understand the phenomenon. Vulliamy rattles off horrible incidents of death, torture, violence, you name it- and rarely attempts to analyse anything from it. Makes me think somewhat of the crap I produced at university aged 20! Also, seriously, having lived in Mexico in 2003/4, I feel I know more about the country and the national psyche than he does (erroneously or not), and certainly did not recognise the country or the people I fell in love with (granted I was in Puebla, but I didn't think it was as simple as he put it). All in all, a really average, misguided book. I hope people take it with a pinch of salt because it's badly researched (or really only insofar as it serves its own ends) and is riddled with mistakes.
This was my "beach" read for our Thanksgiving vacation to Florida. I was so thoroughly engrossed I barely remember any details from our holiday. This fascinating, angering and heartbreaking report is very well researched and written, and the author/reporter so well versed and caring so much about the subject matter that I began an instant obsession with the region as well as its (our) vexing issues.
Ed Vulliamy is wise to trace the root of the problem beyond America's drug addiction and subsequent arms smuggling. He points to the much larger fault of theoretical globalization and the scars left after corporate flight. Although depressing, sickening and rage-inducing he leaves us with hope from non-profit "saintly" groups and individuals.
Fantastic read and a really important book - everybody should read it and be aware of the atrocities happening everyday in Mexico.
Love the very poignant closing line by Munoz the Tijuana pathologist: "I live like a man who sits eating a delicious taco on the street there, aware that every moment could be his last. One bullet, and he is dead."
A well-informed piece of travelogue/reportage of the literally torturous history of the US – Mexico border in the era of the War on Drugs. It captures well the way in which the simple stories of opposition between nefarious drug lords and virtuous Mexican government is blatant misrepresentation. On the contrary, there has long been a series of not very cozy condominia between various drug cartels and both local and national factions of the Mexican government. The most important aspect of the book is it's unflinching examination of the symbolic and instrumental use of violence on the part of various factions in Mexico, most obviously including the various kaleidoscope of mutating cartels, but also encompassing the Mexican government's own response. For those who have not followed events in Mexico closely, the images will undoubtedly be shocking.
As Vulliamy makes clear, the brutalization of the war on drugs is in fact a perverse reflex of the democratization of Mexican politics: so long as the PRI monopolized political power (from 1917 until about 2000) drug dealers knew who they had to pay off and territories were clearly defined, which minimized the violent contestation of the plazas (the staging areas for the transshipment of drugs into the US). With the break up of the PRI's political monopoly, it has become unclear who should be bribed or who has the authority to dictate territorial arrangements. Likewise, the increasing professionalization and fairness of the Mexican judiciary has, ironically, made it much harder to secure convictions for drug-related crimes, including murder — which has increased the impunity with which crimes are committed.
Vulliamy also pays attention to the way in which US stances on drugs (and related deviant activities) have created the conditions for the brutalization in Mexico. Not only is the US's insatiable demand for drugs to primary driver of the drug economy, but so is the US effort to crack down on domestic production of drugs. Likewise, Vuillamy emphasizes the role of the "iron river" of guns flowing from the United States into Mexico in the growing violence in Mexico. Nor does he shy away from the important role of racism in defining not only the US goals in the conflict but also the daily behavior of both policymakers and front-line agents. Moreover, he wisely notes that just as the fragmentation of political authority in Mexico is a precondition for the violence in that country, so is the fragmentation and competitiveness of different US antidrug bureaucracies a key factor in the ineffective US government response to the challenges of drug trade.
Vulliamy's narrative focus stays mostly on the front lines of the conflict: the drug dealers, the border agents, the innocent (and not-so-innocent) bystanders. He is less interested in the underlying economics of the narcotics industry. For example, he pays little attention to the central role of money laundering in the war on drugs (other than noting the DEA's disinterest in "following the money" — which is not exactly accurate), nor about the role of the US prison-industrial complex, nor about the bureaucratic incentives in favor of hardening and militarizing the campaign. The result is a fascinating narrative with vivid characters that alas remains somewhat analytically incomplete. In the end, he does not ask the most fundamental question: why does this hopeless war continue decade after decade? Perhaps because of his unrelenting focus on violence, Vulliamy largely affirms the metaphor of war to describe the regulation of the transnational drug economy.
Fantastic book (mostly) about the drug war raging on the U.S.-México border. All aspects are covered, including the army's and policy fight against and (often) complicit involvement with the narcos, the war's effect on immigration, the recent involvement of Native border tribes in the issue, the complicity of the maquiladoras in providing the grounds for recruitment, the complicity of the U.S. in regards to easy availability of weapons, the lack of interest in "following the money", etc. The book treats the whole border and all the major narco factions, from the East coast & California, all the way to the Gulf of México & Texas. The format consists of interviews by the author of a sample of people affected by each of these issues. Most of all, it shows the brutality of the drug cartels, and thereby the brutality with which the army has resorted to fighting them.
The main thesis of the book---which I think true, but not quite as defended as it should be---is that the drug war represents a foretaste to a post-political, globalized, free market economy, where multinational corporations (such like the drug cartels have become) seek profit at any cost, without regard for the consequences to people.
A rather encouraging as well as despairing trend revealed in the book is the involvement of women and The Church in the fight against the drug cartels. Encouraging because, in a society where the police will do nothing (and in fact are often complicit with the drug cartels themselves) to help the people they are meant to protect, where the police (and sometimes the army too) are too scared to fight these criminals---and with good reason!---, people of good will, the majority of which are women (displaying that special genius of which John Paul II spoke, and which was in full view at the Crucifixion of Jesus when all his Apostles scattered, but the women remained), and The Church are practically the only ones opposing the drug cartels: speaking out against them, organizing public protests, trying to shame these bastards into acting humanely; that is, they are practically the only ones exemplifying the dignity of the human person even in situations where such a concept appears to be folly and fairy-tale-like. And yet the trend is despairing as well: for anyone who speaks against the cartel, be it priests, police, women, politicians, reporters, army generals---anyone!---ends up dead (usually in some grotesque way), and very often cruelly tortured and raped before being killed. Despair is, indeed quite close by: evil has won; good is destroyed. It takes soooooo much faith to believe that the example of human dignity displayed by these people far outweighs (spiritually) the evil being perpetrated, and that therefore good will be triumphant in this world one day. But "one day" seems so very far away when your children are being killed.
Overall, I would recommend it to all the clueless Americans who do not see the connection between their drug habit and the terrible harm they are causing. As was put in the book: anytime someone inhales drugs, they are inhaling human lives. But I do not suppose those kind of people read books.
I’ve seen a lot of negative reviews here for this book, but I don’t see it myself - I thought it was a really interesting read. It was far more wide-ranging than I expected. The subtitle on my copy is “war along the borderline”, but this isn’t accurate at all. It’s less about drugs, and more about poverty, capitalism and globalisation, and I thought this made the book far more interesting. It’s a journalistic work - Vulliamy spent a number of years over an extended period travelling both sides of the US-Mexico border and speaking to people, and that’s what is in this book: his observations on what he sees and his conversations with people.
The book is structured as a journey from west to east, but it is not a story of one journey. The most interesting chapters are about people-smuggling, Ciudad Juarez (my goodness), and the maquiladoras. I also found the “intermission” about two retired US Border Patrol officers really interesting: two Vietnam veterans with an old-fashioned outlook, who used to ride the border on horseback, shooting it out with drug smugglers - it was so cliched but also like a modern Western, and a certain decency that seems lost.
The people-smuggling really brought out just how dangerous it is, but people still see it as a better option to seek better opportunities, compared to what they’re leaving. They’re exploited and brutalised by everyone along the way, including the ill-treatment if/when they are caught. It’s so tragic and highlights many wider problems - the solution so obviously is not to tighten the border security.
A number of chapters cover things going on in Juarez - reflecting the different things going on - and I found that all shocking, gripping, and compelling. The murder rate is high, but the brutality of it is what makes it most shocking. Some of it is drug-related, and this seems to be a tit-for-tat cycle of violence. Torture is endemic, brutal methods of killing, plus public displays of the bodies - especially hanging from bridges over the main highway, alongside messages. These are hung in broad daylight with no fear by the perpetrators. There is no fear of the police, because mostly the police are the drug cartels.
On top of the drug violence in Juarez, he describes a somewhat mysterious killing spree against the broken people of society: recovering addicts (drug use is understandably rife) and those with mental health problems. The author spends some time at a priest-run home for such people, in a very moving part, and the priest lives with the awareness that his institution could be next for a massacre of the broken. It’s not entirely clear why these massacres are happening, but there is a suggestion that perhaps it’s the army “cleaning up” society. But the extent of the brutal killing and often apparently without clear motivation is really shocking.
Then a “femicide” is also rife: widespread killing of women in Juarez. This seems to include prolific serial killers doing it because they can get away with it. Some of it also appears to be about emasculated men. Women seem to be more likely to have legitimate employment, especially in the appalling maquiladora factories, thereby bringing home the bread. Unless the men get involved with narcos, there’s not much for them to do, and that seems to bring out the worst as they respond to the lack of power.
Throw in the slums, crushing poverty, and the awful conditions working for a pittance to produce all kinds of things for the US, from clothes to car parts, and Juarez comes across as a hell on earth. If I knew that anything I was purchasing was produced in such conditions I would totally boycott it. I fear it’s not just Mexico.
I was also taken aback by the emptiness of Juarez. The descent into violence means that much of the housing is unoccupied - a staggering amount. And the unoccupied housing and neighbourhoods then become scenes to some of the other nightmares going on in Juarez. It comes across as post-apocalyptic. I don’t know if things have improved.
He covers attempts to unionise the maquiladora workers, and some of the successes that have been had. It’s not entirely a bleak story - throughout there are good people trying to make things better.
The final chapters cover Los Zetas and the eastern Gulf area. It was very clear that illegal smuggling goes in both directions: drugs north, and money and guns brought legally in the US travelling south, in staggering amounts.
I was struck on a number of occasions at the endemic corruption, including among US government officials. It seems relatively easy for cartel people to infiltrate US agencies, and even easier to turn someone: accept this huge amount of money to let things through the border, or we brutally kill your family. He meets with and speaks to a number of killers working for the cartels.
There are a number of underlying themes: the interconnections across the border (it’s clear that it’s a border area rather than a border line), and the effects of poverty and exploitation, and people with limited options. Capitalism does not come out of this book well at all - it seems to be the underlying problem with everything. In the book, it seems to start with privatisation of farmland in Mexico, generating crushing poverty for large sections of the population. Then there is the exploitation of so many workers, particularly in the factories, who don’t earn enough to live. The cartels then seem to be an example of extreme capitalism - which in turn feeds into the legitimate economy. Too many people are making too much money by exploiting the poor and vulnerable, often with violent consequences. I don’t recall that this is something he said explicitly, but it seemed an obvious conclusion from reading this book that the solution to fix all these problems was to fix the rampant capitalism. It’s perhaps unsurprising that the writer is a journalist for the left-leaning Guardian and Observer (and the book has its share of typos, like those newspapers used to be well-known for).
Looking through other reviews, it seems the criticisms of this book fall into two categories: that his Spanish is terrible and he mistranslates a lot, and that he’s a white guy writing this book, and especially that it’s a white showing off about all the dangerous places he has been. It’s hard for me to judge the first criticism about his Spanish language ability, as I don’t speak Spanish and hence don’t know if the translations he makes are accurate. However, I personally lost nothing from this - the book does not hinge on the translations he makes. It obviously does hinge on whether he understood the conversations he had. Personally I’m a bit sceptical that his Spanish is that bad - he has spent some 20 years visiting that part of the world and seems to cope well enough without an interpreter. On the second criticism about him being a white guy, I spent a lot of time thinking about. I personally think it would have been a better and more credible book if it had been written by someone Mexican. However, it was obvious to me that it would also be an incredibly risky book for a Mexican to write - people commenting publicly on the cartels, and on the Mexican police, army and government, are routinely killed. Further, a European author can approach the subject with a degree of impartiality that a Mexican or American might not be able to either (and it seems likely to make them more willing to talk to him too), so I don’t think the question of the author’s whiteness makes the book invalid or is a decisive criticism. He gives voice to a huge amount of people.
My own criticism of the book is that it stops in 2010, and I want to find out about the next 11 years, the interval between its publication and my reading it. There’s a real risk that the book is dated. However, this is inevitable, given that it took me so long to get round to reading it. One solution would be for him to write a follow-up, which I would certainly read. This is a moving and poignant book.
A literally shocking non-fiction account of the drugs war raging on the Mexican American border, and the breakdown of society that this is in turn promoting. The book starts in a fairly dry way, but soon becomes a gripping dialogue for the dead as the atrocities and breakdown of society are catalogued through accounts from not only the people trying to address the problems, but also from the bereaved, the addicted, the detritus of this burnt out society that still functions despite itself. Soon enough it reads like the worst excesses of a James Ellroy or Don Winslow crime/horror novel, all the more gripping because you know it’s true despite the fact that you have to strain to believe it. Are the drug barons, the police, the army and the judiciary caught up in some sort of demonic campaign to kill women for kicks? The book infers that this is the case. Are the worst of the junkies, alcoholics and mentally ill patients interred in charitable hostels being systematically massacred by death squads in some sort of attempt at social cleansing? Quite possibly, the book states, and takes you to the places that these massacres occurred, the author literally walking through the pools of congealed blood as he traces the killers’ undisguised bootprints on their killing trail through one of these erstwhile sanctuaries. It is shocking stuff. As the book progresses, it becomes more concerned with socio-economic issues such as the exploitation of cheap labour in Mexico by global (American) corporations, which is probably a book in itself. But it's the drug wars that glue both sides of the border together, with the drugs going north and the guns running south. What to do about it though? Part travelogue, part history, part social study and almost always a bit of a horror story, Amexica is an eye-opener, but don't be surprised if you want to close them just as quickly. Maybe they should just legalise the lot of it and see where it takes us. For white, middle class America, this situation woud be utterly unthinkable and intolerable, as intolerable as the lives of the Mexicans living on the borderline already is.
A point in time review of events along the U.S-Mexico border during some of the worst of the narcotics related violence. From the gruesome open warfare in Tijuana and Nuevo Laredo to the calm but chilling repression in Matamoros (which has seen escalating violence since this was written) Vulliamy sympathizes with the Mexican citizens who have gotten caught up in all the chaos. The book details the rise of the various cartels, the various territorial fights that shift along the border and the enormous flow of drugs heading north and guns and cash heading south. Additionally he goes into detail about the relationship between all the twinned cities on the border, the violence against young women in Ciudad Juarez, the challenges of the maquiladoras and other subjects. Not exactly a fun read but very informative.
An excellent read. Sometimes these kind of books can be a bit on the dry side but Vulliamy does a great job of bringing to raw, desperate life the people he talks to and the places he describes. My interest in the whole War on Drugs subject had been sparked initially by reading Sam Hawken's 'The Dead Women of Juarez' and then the magnificent 'The Power of the Dog' by Don Winslow; but this book shows that nothing in fiction is as shocking as the events that now pass for daily life in the north of Mexico. Highly recommended.
Author did a tremendous work to describe every aspect of this violent and unbelievably cruel war. The numbers of victims are terrifying and whe don't know when this conflict will finally end. For most of the people who lives among the cartels it's s dead end, they have no choice left, they need to cooperate with drug traffickers. Sad thing is that there is no hope for them, corruption and bribery is on every level, from police, military, administration to politicians. But we can't blame only Mexicans, guilty are also the Americans as a clients .
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
an absolutely amazing book. the NYT review complaint it didn't offer solutions, but what it did was show the full extend of the US/Mexico border problems, how they are intertwined and how complex the issues are ... ranging from the basic narco-war issues and illegal immigration (the headline stories) to all the smaller stories that don't get reported to the cultural foundations of the region.
Well researched and excellent account of the situation along the border. I have read quite a few books on this region which were written from a feminist perspective and was intrigued by Vulliamy's analysis in relation to the rise of neo-liberlaism and the impact of market forces on the region. Highly recommended.
eye-opening about border life, drug war, political ties from both countries, consumer's moral responsibility when buying any product that may be made by a company that manufactures overseas.
fascinating how bank crisis and money laundering linked to drug lords and how banking system and wall street are covering that up.
Wstrząsająca i przez większość czasu odpychająca lektura, nie tylko ze względu na opisywane okrucieństwa, ale również na rolę jaką w całym biznesie narkotykowym odgrywa USA i światowy system bankowy.
Mam wrażenie że autor próbował zmieścić zbyt wiele wątków, a przeprowadzane wywiady są dość chaotyczne i ; paradoksalnie jak na grubość książki; szczątkowe. Opis problemów społecznych Meksyku powiązanych z ekspansją kapitalizmu oraz wojną narkotykową brzmi ciekawie jednak treść nie wciąga tak jak powinna. Lektura mnie bardziej znużyła niż faktycznie zaangażowała w głębsze zbadanie tematu. Krótko mówiąc, średnie.
Ten pokaźny reportaż zdobył Nagrodę im. Ryszarda Kapuścińskiego. Absolutnie zasłużenie. Vulliamy pokazał życie na granicy meksykańsko-amerykańskiej i trudno rzec, czy dobrze, że to zrobił. Łatwo tutaj utracić wiarę w państwo, instytucje władzy, policję etc. Obraz wojen narkotykowych, które pustoszą Meksyk budzi nie mniejsze przerażenie niż realistyczne reportaże z afgańskich pól bitewnych. Kartele uzbrojone w broń automatyczną i granatniki, meksykańskie jednostki specjalne przechodzące na stronę handlarzy prochami, krwawe bitwy uliczne, przerażające choć beznamiętne opisy okrucieństw, których dopuszczają się sicarios kartelu Sinaloa, Juarez, Los Zetas czy El Golfo... Do tego powszechny handel bronią, amerykańskie banki piorące miliardy (sic!) dolarów, maquiladoras - fabryki amerykańskich korporacji na meksykańskich pograniczu. Posród tego ludzie. Ci, którzy się boją i ci, którzy podejmują walkę. Często beznadziejną, zazwyczaj zakończoną wizytą siepaczy kartelu. Całość napisana świetnym, dynamicznym i niepozbawionym poetyckości językiem.
this is a fascinating account of a journey through one of modern histories most unusual conflict zones, the US-Mexican border during the conflicts between states and drug cartels. right from the start this book does a great deal to dispel the supposed glamour of organised crime and show just how much damage these groups have wrought all along the borderline. another very interesting element to this book is the argument that is central to much of the story of the cartels whilst criminal mirroring legitmate business in its post modern capitalist phase. this definitely makes for a fascinating read on organised crime
Essential background reading for those who want to understand the US-Mexico border, for example to read Bolano's 2666 or much of Cormac McCarthy. Inevitably repetitive about the scale of the killings, the dominance of the different drugs cartels, and the omnipresence of migration from south to north. Vulliamy's wider point, which is that what happens on this border is a foretaste of things to come on a much bigger scale, is well made, and all the more frightening for that. McCarthy's The Road: here we come, folks.
Read this if you have any interest at all in Mexico, the Southwest, immigration and drug policy, or just want to be a better-informed citizen and human. It is compassionate, infuriating, engrossing, informative, and altogether readable. I cannot recommend it highly enough for people who want to know more than their Fox-watching, hate-spewing kith and kin. Vulliamy is obviously at a loss for clear-cut solutions and bromides, but he brings the populations and challenges on both sides of the border to life beautifully.
Nie, to nie jest aż tak dobra książka. Czwarta gwiazdka za niezwykle rzetelną robotę na samym meksykańskim pograniczu, za masę przeczytanych źródeł, za uczciwość i bezwzględną szczerość. Pozycja obowiązkowa szczególnie dla"Polonusów", których oburzają po równo, zabierający im pracę czarni i Meksykanie, Hindusi czy Wietnamczycy. Warto wiedzieć, czemu nie mogli żyć u siebie. Przed czym i kim musieli uciekać. Bolesna i cholernie przygnębiająca lektura. Żadnej nadzieji, żadnej jasnej perspektywy.
While the name of the book is somewhat deplorable, even so, this book has some of the best investigative journalism about the cartels and migration published in the English language and contains many passages that are striking in their discoveries. Beyond that the book serves as a summarization and analysis of works by many other border authors such as Bowden and Urrea.
It's shocking. I find it fascinating, our border with Mexico, parially because this area is so close-by. Ultimately though, I just need to stop reading books about our murderous border region, U.S. factories in Mexico paying low wages to desperate poor people whose lives seem very difficult, and books about drug cartels. It is too sad. But like a train wreck, I can't look away.
A good primer on cartel violence circa 2010 and the unique nature of the border region. As a british author, he sometimes speaks in great generalities about a landscape and culture that's pretty familiar to most Americans on a basic level, and it's in these places that the book bogs down a little bit.
I'm drudgingly pushing through this. I love the reality and documentation of events that Vulliamy brings to the issue, but it lacks emotion to some degree. I'm having a hard time getting through it with comfort.
Disappointing. This author is very stiff. Seeing as he is talking about a lawless environment, I expected it to be a lot more wild. I feel like he was trying to scare you with stories of these people, but I just ended up being bored.
Mnóstwo informacji na raz (liczb, nazwisk, wydarzeń) momentami dosyć chaotycznie podanych, z nagłymi przejściami z jednego wątku do drugiego, ale książka i tak wciąga, zaskakuje, chwilami przeraża i dobrze się czyta.