The quickest way to get one of my dear friends, perhaps one of the sunniest and most enjoyable people on the planet, to become sullen and melancholy is to ask about their home country of Venezuela. "There's no future there," my friend opines. And in giving me this book, my friend (and millions of other Venezuelans) points the finger at one man responsible for the slow and then sudden collapse of the land: Hugo Chavez.
Rory Carroll writes this book in a snappy, crisp, and eminently readable way, blending in a dry sense of humor and sardonic tone that allows for some legitimately funny moments, if only because he knows that merely recording the ridiculousness of some of Chavez's Venezuela is comedy enough.
Because Chavez, a former failed military coup plotter turned democratically elected autocrat, is a ridiculous figure. He seems pathologically incapable of avoiding the camera. He's a storyteller, constantly holding court with his gregarious personality. And he's cunning, knowing that sometimes the way to master the media is to master the art of propaganda. Reading as an American, I could not help but draw parallels between Chavez's reign and the term of former president Donald Trump: a constant desire to be the center of attention, a prickly skin thinner than paper, a need to use polarizing and aggressive language to rile up his base and galvanize the opposition, so that everyone is at each others' throats...all whilst a culture of fear and sycophancy reigned in the capital, with countless nameless (and, frankly, talentless) ministers vied and jockeyed for the ear of El Comandante. Meanwhile, institutions decayed, corruption reigned, and the people suffered.
Carroll doesn't have to work too hard to indict Hugo Chavez as an autocrat with cunning ability to stay in power and whose laser focus on winning elections left him floundering when it came to real issues in his country. Carroll saves his harshest indictment, it seems, for the countless Venezuelans who *knew* that Chavez's regime was autocratic but rather lazy about it (North Korean "disappearances" and Russian gulags, it ain't) and yet still went along with it anyway for the sake of a paycheck. "The sword was plastic, and still they bent the knee."
It's a fascinating look at not only the man who broke Venezuela, but also an interesting look at a fascinating country and a wonderful people who were and are suffering under the shadow of Hugo Chavez's legacy. I say *suffering* because reading this book in 2022 comes across as eerily prescient: the book was published in 2013, shortly before Hugo Chavez died of cancer, and it only spends two pages describing Chavez's eventual (and, frankly, even more horrific) successor: Nicolas Maduro, who currently presides over a country in collapse, with none of Chavez's charm that allowed him to get away with being the worst.
Start reading this book, and you won't be able to put it down.