The long-awaited and highly praised second novel by the author of Stones for Ibarra. The American characters here find themselves waiting, hoping, and living in rural Mexico-a land with the power to enchant, repulse, captivate, and change all who pass through it. Named a Best Book of the Year by Publishers Weekly and a Notable Book of the Year by the New York Times.
Harriet Doerr (April 8, 1910 – November 24, 2002) was an American author whose debut novel was published at the age of 74.
A granddaughter of California railroad magnate and noted collector of art and rare books, Henry Edwards Huntington, Doerr grew up in a Pasadena, California, family that encouraged intellectual endeavors. She enrolled in Smith College in 1927, but transferred to Stanford University the following year. In 1930, after her junior year, she left school to marry Albert Doerr, Jr., a Stanford '30 graduate whom she had known in Pasadena. The Doerrs spent the next 25 years in Pasadena.
Albert Doerr's family owned a copper mine in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes, and in the late 1950s, the Doerrs moved to Mexico where Albert was engaged in restoring the mine. They remained until 1972, when Albert died ten years after being diagnosed with leukemia. The time she spent in this small Mexican mining town would later provide her with the subject matter and settings for much of her writing.
Following her husband's death, Harriet Doerr returned to California. At the suggestion of her son Michael, she decided to finish the education which had been interrupted so long before by her marriage. She enrolled once again at Stanford, and in 1977, received a BA in European history. While at Stanford she began writing and earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979. She soon began publishing short stories.
Her first novel Stones for Ibarra was published in 1984 and won that year's National Book Award for First Work of Fiction. Her second novel, Consider this, Senora, was published in 1993, and a collection of short stories and essays, Tiger in the Grass: Stories and other Inventions followed in 1995. A television adaptation of Stones for Ibarra was presented by Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1988.
pg 194: Our lives are brief beyond our comprehension or our desire, she told herself. We drop like cottonwood leaves from trees after a single frost. The interval between birth and death is scarcely more than a breathing space. Tonight, in her house on a Mexican hill, Ursula Bowles listened to the five assembled in her sala and thought she heard the faint rustle of their days slipping by. She could see now that an individual life is, in the end, nothing more than a stirring of air, a shifting of light. No one of us, finally, can be more than that. Even Einstein. Even Brahms. Then the widow slept.
Started well, a charming story about random expats who end up in a small central Mexican town. But the obsession of the writer with the (apparently absolute) need for these interesting, talented women to end up in paired, hetero relationships torpedoed the book for me. Ain’t it about time to be Okay with oneself? How many times in a life does a woman need to learn that No relationship is better than a bad one? There is so much more to life than that, or moping.
Especially Sue, the central protagonista, an artist, generous and insightful, who clearly enjoys and appreciates her new home in Mexico - the changing seasons, the colors, the food, the light, the people. She lands there after her miserable marriage in the US ends. The ex was, we learn, unmotivated, bitchy, uninteresting and hey, she walks in on him with another (very young) woman. Somewhere I learned that the best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour. Perhaps i haven’t watched enough Disney, but IMHO, when marriages fail for such a grand antipasto spread of reasons, it’s time to move on. Sue's motivation for coming to Mexico is obvious. And she finds a home full of beauty and friendship. But, six years later, after essentially no contact with the ex, he arrives unannounced, and she just up and follows him...to Utah. WTF?
As the trajectory of this tale went on, i found myself angrier and angrier that there seemed no judgment behind the ultimate choices, and self-denial (Really! They all loved it there!) besides seeking … what? ...to be goofily partnered? Bleh.
Harriet Doerr is a testament to the fact that you are never to old to start a new endeavor and succeed. Doerr went back to college at 65, and published her first novel at 74. I must admit that I wish she had started earlier, for her books are some of the best books I've read. Doerr wrote what she knew, and that was Mexico, from a foreigner's point of view. Her husband's family owned a mine in Mexico, and they spent long stretches of time there. We have a wonderful view of rural Mexican life in Senora, just as we did in Ibarra. Her love for Mexico and the Mexican people is evident in every sentence she writes.
Amazingly, few people – 3 - have read the book according to the record here on Goodreads. I do not understand this, but so it is. As to the book:
Doerr’s book may be thought of in many contexts, but for me it is essentially a paean to rural Mexico as seen through foreign eyes. As the author lived in this region for years, the book must be partly autobiographical. The story is that of a divorced gringa who goes to Central Mexico – the Altiplano – and finds a place to build a house where she plans on living the rest of her life. She buys 4 hectares (10 acres) on the top of a hill outside of a small town with someone she just met in the real estate agent’s office. Crazy, but so is Mexico. The remainder of the book describes their lives and those who join them in purchasing plots and building homes on those 4 hectares. Mexicans and foreigners interact, and their lives pass as normal people, given who they are. Particularly described are the lives of Mexicans – many of the passing incidents seem so real to me. I lived in three places in Mexico over a number of years and the book came alive to me as I remember so many similar incidents – good, bad and comic (in retrospect, of course). Life in Mexico in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s was tough. Work was hard. Death was just two steps away for every single person. But life was lived to the fullest with the greatest gusto, often in excess. The book is true to the place as I remember it. So, there are stories as the time passes for the gringos, but Mexico is still the star. As it should be! A very calm, mellow read if you are tired of all the bombast and bulls@@t of our daily news. I loved the book.
So, I got lucky with this book. It was luck because I just picked it off the shelf, without ever having heard anything about it. It's rare for me to love a book that was recommended, let alone one I chose basically for the title. But, yeah, the writing is beautiful and evocative, the characters engaging, despite there being so many and the descriptions sparse, and overall, I just really loved it. The narrative style actually reminds me of a short story. We only get the briefest tableaus of the characters, other than Sue, the main character. Although, even her story is left much in shadow. But rather than being frustrating, I really liked the way I was able to care about and wonder about the characters, without being annoyed that I wasn't told more. I also felt like the town and the entire setting of the novel was integral to the story. The setting shaped and defined the characters. Finally, a little thing I really enjoyed about this book is that even though the Spanish was sparse, the entire book had a feeling of being written in Spanish and then translated directly into English. The words and the usage (as you can tell from the title) were ever so slightly off from the way we would normally speak. For example, a Mexican character tells an American not to "preoccupy herself," which is the direct translation of "don't worry" in Spanish, but is of course not the way we would say it. Anyway, I thought that was fun. Overall, I highly recommend this book.
Gorgeous descriptions of Mexican landscape and floral gardens; plus, every page gives perfectly beautiful portraits of Harriet Doerr's characters young and old. This is a small book to be cherished for your library.
Basically, the story of a hillside in a rather secluded little village in Mexico that has been bought for a song and developed by a rascal of a man running away from debts to the US government, and a young woman running from the heartache of a marriage gone wrong. This novel describes their interactions with the very colorful natives, as well as the various international misfits who come along and live in this small enclave of the misbegotten who seek solace and escape.
It would be nearly impossible to find another author who combines the sheer descriptive genius and glorious psychological insights of Ms Doerr. She can paint a vivid picture of the world surrounding her characters, while she exposes their inner thoughts and emotions just as vividly, to the reader. It's a beautiful thing to read her very poetic prose.
This is a book from "back in the stacks" at my home. One that I pulled up to read and a secondary novel to her first American Book Award novel, "Stones For Ibarra." Can't wait to read that one, now, which seems to be set with a similar theme and place.
The Bookish Dame recommends it highly to everyone! 5 stars
Finding this beautiful book and author was a happy accident. I came across it in the used book section at Off the Beaten Path in Steamboat Springs, CO – a fine little book store and coffee shop I’ve enjoyed over the last two decades whenever we’re in that part of the country.
From the first page I let out a contented sigh and settled in, knowing I was in good hands with this author, this wordsmith, this weaver of tales. Doerr writes with an elegance, telling her stories and revealing her characters with a light hand, as if she is merely pulling back the curtain allowing the reader to peer in and see bits and pieces of a much larger story. Her subtle humor and spare prose are artful and intelligent.
I thought to include some of my favorite passages, but there are too many. Track down her three books and read them, all of them published after she turned 73 years old.
This is one of my favorite novels, and the best I have read which is set in Mexico. Harriet Doerr started writing in her seventies, and it is a loss for readers that she did not start earlier. I have spent quite a bit of time in Mexico (as did Doerr), and her description of life there is wonderfully wrought and pitch perfect. She must have been an extraordinary woman; this book was published when she was 83, and the prose sparkles.
Very interesting writing style; a poetic depth despite the seemingly simplistic prose. The author, who began writing very late in life, describes Mexico and the nature there gorgeously, as well as her characters and their psychologies with insight. All with a type of simple, crystalline prose in this interesting tale of American expats finding themselves building together on a plot of land and interacting with the local Mexicans.
A quiet surprise. Americans in Mexico in the 60's. Relationships (you might call some friendships) grown in the country, alongside tuberoses and goats and a muddy lake. Hopeful, even with the various tragedies of life experienced. Wistful.
I look forward to the other novel by this author on my shelves (Stones of Ibarra).
The best part about this book was the descriptions of rural Mexico, the people that live there, and how the foreigners trying to go native fared. For me, it meandered around a bit without ever fully getting anywhere, but if it was meant to be a "slice of life" story, I'll buy it. I found all the lonely ladies dreaming of past loves a little over the top but not offensive. I'd call this a good beach read.
I so much loved readingHarriet Doerr's remarkable book Consider This, Senora about several American's who had moved to a small town in Mexico. I discovered the book on an Off the Shelf list : http://offtheshelf.com/2017/04/10-boo... . It sounded so interested by the blurb that I couldn't resist "This is the book I read and reread when I need to fall into the poetry of memory and landscape and language. The novel follows four expatriates who relocated to rural Mexico in 1962 and find themselves in a village of a thousand souls in adobe homes on the barren mesa. The magic of this novel is how it slips between cultures, language, memory, and time. I reread it because it hits all the right notes for me about otherness and acceptance, of blossoming and withering, of possibility and love. And yet, it always remains fresh in its own magical way. —Wendy - See more at: http://offtheshelf.com/2017/04/10-boo....
I then found out about the author who received her degree from Stanford when she was 67 and wrote her first book, Stones for Ibarra which received a National Book Award in 1984 when she was 74. She wrote two other books and I am so happy to have read one of them.
The place Amapolas, Mexico and the characters that populate it are so real, that I want to transport my self there. Please, Scotty beam me down... Four Americans have come to live in Amapolas, Sue, Fran and her mother, Ursula as well as, the wheeler dealer, Bud Loomis. Each of these four has a journey to make in this small town. As well as the Americans we come to know and love the Mexicans who reside here.
I was really fond of Ursula or as she was known by the community as the Widow Bowles. She developed a close relationship with a teenager for the town, named Paticio. Here Patricio is driving her to a neighboring town: "Someday I'll borrow a car and drive up and down the old roads. " And she might have remembered a few of them now, but a sign on the outskirts of a cluster of houses distracted her. "La Solledad, " she told Patricio as if he had no eyes. And ten minutes later she announced, "Los Dolores." They were traveling along two ruts now, with their right wheels higher than their left and from her vantage point Ursula discovered herself at eye level with cattle and horses which loooked up from cropping weeds to watch her pass. She put on her distance glasses and made out a cjurch dome and a silo directly ahead and when they had almost reached the sign, informed Patricio that this was Las Lagrimas. "These names," she said. "All titles of the Virgin, I suppose"
Patricio said nothing. He had never heard of a Virgin of Tears and doubted that there was one. In any case, he saw no point in discussing religion with a woman nobody had ever seen at mass.
As Wendy from http://offtheshelf.com/ convinced me to read this book, I hope to convince others to read it, with the added note that I already convinced one person who rated it a 5 as I did.
It's about a recently divorced American who decides to buy land in central Mexico, in the rural town of Amapolas. Over the course of several years, she becomes part of the community, and the community becomes part of her. But I like the book for more than its plot. The prose is sparse and almost ridiculously unsentimental. What is not described somehow takes over the story in the most beautiful way.
The writing in this book was very thoughtful and beautiful. There isn't too much that happens in the plot, it's more about seeing how people live somewhere and form connections with their place and the people around them. It was a peaceful book to read.
--precise, elegant phrasing --spare, poignant --simplicity --p. 187 "...out of the depths of her forgetting."
"When Padre Miguel had called on Sue in June, he examined the map, asked for a pencil, and in the middle of the blank boot of Italy, drew in the dome, facade, and court yard of St. Peter's....added on the right the Pope's balcony and His Holiness upon it. Then, with a wave, he walked past France, Spain, Portugal, the Atlantic Ocean, and out the door." ---from Consider This, Senora by Harriet Doerr
I finished Rich Boy by Sharon Pomerantz today with a sigh. What a story! The elegant writing flows so easily that I just had to keep reading long past bed time. The story is not particularly unique and the main character resembles Don Draper on TV's "Mad Men", yet the writing makes this book eminently enjoyable and readable.
I tried. I really tried to like this book. A subject I love, well recommended and I just couldn't like it. It took over 100 pages to figure out where it was going and by that time, I just didn't care. It wasn't bad - but it just wasn't a winner.
Two Americans show up in the town of Amapolas and somehow decide to buy a plot of 10 acres jointly and subdivide it to raise some much needed cash. A widow and her daughter buy 2 other lots, and as the locals watch, they try to make a life in this land so different from what they were used to. Things change, people change and these 4 are no exception. They learn and move forward.
I guess I wanted more, expected more - as I moved from the US to South America in the same decade that this book takes place, and couldn't relate. Not to say it's a bad book, it won several awards - it just wasn't a good book for me.
I read author's Stones for Ibarra in 1990 and purchased this book from local bookstore the moment I first saw it on display and it remains one my most favorite books. It's simplicity is staggering.
Favorite passage: 'Our lives are brief beyond our comprehension or our desire, she told herself. We drop like cottonwood leaves from trees after a single frost. The interval between birth and death is scarcely more than a breathing space. Tonight, in her house on a Mexican hill, Ursula Bowles listened to the five assembled in her sala and thought she heard the faint rustle of their days slipping by. She could see now that an individual life is, in the end, nothing more than a stirring of air, a shifting of light. No one of us, finally, can be more than that.' Sigh.
I love Mexico and have been there a few times. This book describes the countryside in Mexico and the building of houses by people of means that come to inhabit a small Mexican town. Mexico always has grand homes next to hovels and half built construction projects. Those iconic images are here. This book is a glimpse into another culture's lifestyle and time frame. The expatriots in the book are colorful and unusual and each of their homes, as described here, reflect those attributes. I read this book to long ago to be quite certain of many things so I recommend reading my friend Carol's review for more clarity and erudition.
Ms. Doerr apparently writes from experience, and her experience of Mexico has evidently been very personal. This is not an action-packed thriller but an episodic, quiet narrative of an American lady retiring to a place where things are very different from what to her has been customary.
It's been a dozen years, at a guess, since I read Consider This, and there are still moments that have stuck with me, moments that have brought a glimmer of inner peace in a world where peace has been very difficult to find.
I wish for this lovely book that it might find a wider audience.
Now on my 7th trip to Mexico, this one an extended stay, I found this novel in the local library, and, remembering how reading "Stones for Ibarra" had moved me and set me on my path to falling in love with Mexico, I read Doerr's second novel with pleasure, especially got the ways in which she characterizes, deftly and quickly, the various characters, but also because of her obvious love for and understanding of the landscape and the people of the high central plateau in Mexico.
Reflective and rather slow-paced, this almost poetic book still held my interest. It follows several unmoored North Americans as they settle briefly in a Mexican village and attempt to sort out their lives or, as in one case, their impending deaths. It's about communities, friendship and second chances all placed out in a surreal setting.
This book followed Doerr’s Stones for Ibarra. It is about American ex patriots living in a small village of Mexico. It is about their life assimilating with and contrasted to the village folk. Her writing is full of light and music and poetry. Her people are round and complex and fascinating. I love Harriet Doerr!
I love this author! Twice now she has transported me south of the border and introduced people and lifestyles unknown to me. Both 'Stones for Ibarra' and 'Consider This Senora' have stuck with me for years. I have often just flipped to a page and re-read passages for enjoyment.
Nice slice of life story of four American expatriates who move to a small town in Mexico. Not much plot or action, but a nice story. Second in series of three.
Ok, fine - I actually finished this two days ago, but given that I'd already written my yearly roundup by then, I decided to hold off on posting, cheat a bit, and give myself a head start on #25for25! Don't tell anyone.
One of my reading goals this year is to shop my bookshelves. At first I thought that maybe I'd ONLY shop my shelves for 2025, but I don't want to deprive myself if something really intriguing comes out, nor do I want to not go to the library at all. Because I am a grownup and can do what I want, I shall do both! As such, some of my reviews this year are going to be of older, potentially obscure books, such as this one.
No idea where or why I picked this one up, but it was a solid read. It's set in rural Mexico in the 1960s and follows the lives of four American expats who are navigating life as newcomers in the Mexican countryside, building traditional homes alongside one another on a large, commune-like plot of land. They each have their own reasons for starting life anew - reasons that are, in my opinion, wrapped up a little too neatly in the end - and they try to hold onto their American roots while assimilating into their new culture to varying degrees of success.
This is a quiet novel. If you like plot-driven, action-packed stories, this isn't the book for you. It's much more about character development and studies of the land/place in which it's set. Didn't hate it, didn't love it (what I DID love, though, is learning that the author didn't publish her first novel until she was in her early 70s). A solid three stars.
Southern Mexico, 1960's. Don Enrique Cesar Ortiz deLeon can no longer afford the taxes, and so he must sell the land that he loves and that has been in his family for many many years. A couple of Americans who are strangers to each other, Bud Loomis and Sue Ames, decide to throw caution to the wind. They form a partnership to go halvsies on Don Enriques's land. It is in Amapolas, truly in the middle of Mexican nowhere. Bud sees it as business investment, Sue sees it as a place to draw and paint and find peace. I expected this to be a stormy relationship and the heart of the story. Or that there would be simmering conflict between the Norte Americanos and the native population. But no, to a large degree Bud and Susannah both get what they want, and despite the confusing ways of the newcomers, everyone gets along. A few homes are built, and gardens are planted. More people arrive and time passes. There are droughts and floods and celebrations and comings and leavings. Friendships are formed, old relationships renewed. Not much plot really, no villains, no dark intrigue or wild shootouts. "Consider This," reads more like a love letter to a place (Mexico) and the people of Amapolas , that was written on the back of a beautiful picture postcard.