What do you think?
Rate this book


280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
That very night the young lady from the capital and the provincial, the goddaughter and the son, could go out dancing on the other side of the border, in the United States, half an hour away from here, dance, get to know each other, learn about each other. Of course. What could be more logical?
He spent weeks sitting outside the places that most tested his patience and good taste – McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizza Hut, and, abomination of abominations, Taco Bell – so he could count the fat people who came to and left from those cathedrals of bad eating.
I’ll see the void. Now I realize I can’t fall into the abyss. I’m already there. That’s a relief. Also a horror.
On Saturday morning at six, it was most certainly possible to feel, smell, touch, but not yet see the city. The fog, laden with ice, made it invisible, but the smell of Manhattan entered Lisandro Chávez through his nose and mouth like a steel dagger: it was smoke, acrid, acid smoke from sewers and subways, from enormous twelve-wheel trailers with exhaust pipes and grills at the level of the hard, shiny streets, like patent-leather floors.
They all raise their arms, spread them in a cross, clench their fists, silently offer their labor on the Mexican side of the river, hoping someone takes note of them, saves them, pays them heed. They prefer to risk being caught than not to advertise themselves, declare their presence: Here we are. We want work.

Forty million persons in the United States were obese, more than in any other country in gthe world. Fat -- seriously fat -- people: pink masses, souls lost under rolls and rolls of flesh, to the point of rendering characteristics like eys, noses, mouths, even their sexes ephemeral. Dionisio watched a 350-pound woman pass by and wondered where her vein of pleasure might be. How, among the multiple slabs along her thighs and buttocks, would you get to the sanctum sanctorum of her libido? Would her male counterpart dare ask, Honey, could you just fart so I can get my bearings here?And then the food:
In each potbelly that went by Dionisio suspected the presence of millions of paper and cellophane bags zealously safeguarding, in the void the precedes the flood, hundreds of millions of french fries, tons of popcorn, sugar cakes frosted with nuts and chocolate, audible cereals, mountains of tricolored ice cream crowned with peanuts and hot caramel sauce, hamburgers of toughened dog meat, thin as shoe soles, served between tombstones of greasy, insipid, inflated bread, the national American host, smeared with ketchup (This is my blood) and loaded with calories (This is my body).Some of the stories are better than others. Perhaps he is least successful with his occasional poetic monologues, but even these have some interest. There are a few characters that appear in multiple stories, especially the rich cabrón Don Leonardo Barroso and his much younger daughter-in-law (and mistress) Michelina Laborde. In these stories, he runs the gamut from captains of industry like Barroso to single mothers who work for the maquiladores along the border to racist U.S. Border Patrol officers. At his best, as in "Spoils" or "Les Amigas," he is very good indeed.
The Crystal Frontier is about things that both unite and separate these two countries ideologically, gastronomically, behaviorally, historically and so on. Under the hat name of a novel, Fuentes actually talks in short stories about different people from Mexico who are one way or another connected to a very rich oligarch from Mexico (Leonardo Baroso). All the characters have this in common and the fact that in order to survive they have to cross the border to the States and cope with all the cultural differences this crossing entails.![]()
Since the gringos had screwed Mexico in 1848 with their manifest destiny so now Mexico would give them a dose of their own medicine, reconquering them with the most Mexican of weapons, linguistic, racial, and culinary.However, they also have to cope with exploitation from their very much richer neighbors, with prejudices and these two nations' coexistence in a common space is sometimes a clash not only between individuals, but rather between past and present, different beliefs and cultural values.