Santa Muerte

by Marcus Sedgwick

Un thriller potente, efficace e attualissimo su migranti, signori della droga e guerra delle bande, ambientato al confine tra Stati Uniti e Messico.

«Faustino arrotola la manica destra della camicia. Fuori al buio non si vede bene, ma ora Arturo riesce a scorgere il tatuaggio, e c'è luce sufficiente per guardare cosa è stato impresso con l'inchiostro rosso scuro. La Dama Poderosa, la Hermana Blanca. La Potente Signora, la Sorella Bianca. Uno scheletro con lo scialle che regge in mano il mondo. La Santa Muerte.»

Anapra è uno dei quartieri più poveri della città messicana di Juarez: venti metri fuori città si trova una recinzione, e al di là di essa, l'America, il pericoloso obiettivo di molti migranti. Faustino cerca di sfuggire al cartello della droga per cui ha lavorato. Il capo della banda gli ha consegnato un sacco di dollari che avrebbe dovuto nascondere, ma Faustino l'ha usato per pagare il viaggio della sua ragazza incinta oltre il confine con l'America. La libertà non è economica. Faustino ha solo trentasei ore per sostituire i soldi mancanti, e il suo amico Arturo è l'unica persona che può aiutarlo a recuperarli in una partita a carte mortale con gli spacciatori. Arturo deve giocare non solo per la libertà ma anche per la vita del suo amico, mentre la sua stessa esistenza è in pericolo. Per vincere, potrebbe dover imbrogliare la Morte stessa.

Genres: Young Adult, Contemporary, Fiction, Realistic Fiction, Mystery, Crime, Thriller

229 pages, Paperback

First published October 6, 2016

About the author

Marcus Sedgwickwas a British writer and illustrator. He authored several young adult and children's books and picture books, a work of nonfiction and several novels for adults, and illustrated a collection of myths and a book of folk tales for adults.

Reviews

[Emily May · Rating 5 out of 5]

On the top of the hill Christ himself stands with his arms outstretched, facing both Juarez, and, on the other side of the river, El Paso, in a gesture of brotherly love. It’s a misleading gesture. His arms are outstretched because he is nailed to a cross.

The first few reviews for Saint Death haven't been that great and I honestly wasn't expecting to find Marcus Sedgwick at his finest. But to say I thought this book was fantastic is an understatement - this book may be the best book I've read this year. It is, I think, one of the best YA books I've ever read. That being said, this smart, literary YA isn't for those who shrug their shoulders and say "kids these days have no interest in serious issues". I don't, I can't buy into that way of thinking - it's the kids who must have an interest, if the world is ever to change.

I don't know where to start. This book deeply affected me to the point that I actually cried. It comes at a chillingly appropriate time when issues of immigration and border controls are at the top of the list on every political agenda. Nationalism is on the rise - as it was during the 19th Century as political alignments shifted towards a set-up that would fuel two world wars - and the funny thing is so few people seem to see it.

I'm a Brit living in Los Angeles, which is an interesting view to have right now. My British family and friends are appalled that someone like Donald Trump can become a serious candidate for president, on a platform of hate and racism. "How are people voting for him?!" they say. In my other ear are my American family and friends "I can't believe your people voted for the Brexit. They must be either crazy or racist?" It really makes me worry that one day school kids will write essays on the causes of World War III and talk about how people in the early 21st Century developed an irrational fear of "The Other" - immigrants, refugees, a family crossing the border in the back of a van because they want their babies to grow up without fear.

This book is about that, as well as other things. What kind of world are we creating? What future are we moving towards? Sedgwick focuses on Juarez in Mexico and Mexican immigrants, but what he's ultimately saying is much bigger than that, the bold suggestion that there is no such thing as immigrants. Or, rather, that we are all immigrants out of Africa, and national borders are simply the way rich immigrants keep the poor immigrants confined to poorer areas; often areas that were made poor by the rich.

And they end up in the rich countries, and you know what people say... ¡Migrants! ¡illegal aliens! But everyone is a migrant, everyone, outside of the African cradle. It's just a question of how back in time you care to look...

This particular story is about the Mexican Arturo who lives in Juarez, right alongside the gang warfare and drug crime that exists on the US/Mexican border. His adoptive brother - the Guatemalan Faustino - has gotten himself into serious trouble by losing the money of a prominent gang leader. In a story spanning less than 48 hours, Arturo must try to get it back in a suspense-filled journey into the dark corners of the city. With Sedgwick's writing, Juarez comes to life in exquisite detail that equally captures its bright lights and its darkness:

“There are shadows in every alley, every doorway, and the lights of shops and bars and adverts and cars dazzle and blind and make the shadows darker still.”

Saint Death is woven with Spanish phrases and cultural elements - to me, it seems extremely well-researched. I recommend a basic knowledge of the Santa Muerte or "Saint Death" before picking this book up. It helps with understanding that element of the story, and it is also pretty fascinating. I hadn't heard of it before and I love learning something new.

“She’s wearing a white shawl over a long white gown, which reaches to the ground. From under the shawl glimpses of a black wig can be seen, grotesque against the skull face, almost ridiculous, Arturo thinks, and yet it’s more disturbing than it is funny, and in a way disconcerting because it is somehow comical too, and Do not laugh at death, he thinks, we do not laugh at death.”

Of course, enjoying this book depends on your interest in the subject matter, but it was absolutely enthralling to me. Arturo is such a sympathetic character who dares to long for something more than what he has, and parts of the book are filled with such nail-biting tension, hope, and horror because of the reader's desire that he will be different; that he will succeed. His story is peppered with extracts from social media pages, facts about NAFTA, and backstory on him and Faustino - the latter came to Mexico on a gruelling journey from Guatemala, in which he lost both his parents in their desperate search for a better life.

It's really hard to review books like this. I can't fully explain how important it is, how horrifically hopeful and sad it is. Just writing this review and remembering the book has me on the verge of tears. I can only hope you read it.

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[Alienor ✘ French Frowner ✘ · Rating 5 out of 5]

► I can't escape it. I woke up this morning and it was the first thing in my mind. I do realize that I'm probably going to bore/offend/annoy some of you, but as much as I'm sorry about that, I can't stay silent.



At first, I found that I didn't have much to say. Or perhaps I had so much to say and so little looking appropriate for this review at first glance - but maybe this is the mark of great books. Maybe there's something magical about a book that makes your thoughts whirl endlessly. With Saint Death, Marcus Sedgwick manages to immerse the reader into the harsh life of Arturo, a young Mexican living near the border of the United States, between narco gangs and maquiladoras. We meet him just before the reappearance of Faustino, his best friend, is about to change his life.




And I hear you - I hear you telling me that this is not a subject you want to deal with in your books. That you get enough of that in the news, thank you very much. However, as much as I get it, I genuinely think that we can't afford to be blind anymore. We can't. Not when so many people die every day to sustain our way of life. Not when we're surrounded by biased reports and white privileges - call it as you want : western privileges, if you prefer, I don't care, it's living and brewing even when we don't want to see it.

And I'm going to add something about France, again, and I'm sorry if you think that it's not the point but I'm not really sorry because it shows, yes, it shows how fucking blind we became. Lately there are so many complains about the way foreigners and refugees are treated, as if they were stealing the bread out of Real French mouths' and I want to vomit. We're talking about a country where nobody knows how many a cancer treatment costs because it is free. We're talking about a country where school is free from 3 to 16, where free medical care is offered to any unemployed person.

Let this sink in.

We're talking about a country whose whole system is built upon solidarity - 9% of my salary pays for retirement pensions. Not for mine, but for the current retired people who paid for their fathers and grandmothers before me. For this system to work we need to trust others to do the same for us when time comes. I love this system. I don't want to change it. I don't want to pay for my pension and see less lucky people, who don't have a stable job, slowly crumble when 65 comes. But one thing is sure : we won't be able to sustain it if we're too busy fighting over our little euros. If we're too busy losing ourselves, our identity, over some selfish way of thinking. Because meanwhile, people are dying every day of awful living conditions, of poverty and of war and we let them and for what? FOR WHAT? Because it's easier to stay blind and believe simplistic speeches than stop for one second and ask ourselves how can we look in the mirror every day and let people die? Because we don't want to hear about it and start wondering what is so fucking special about us apart from our birth place?

I hate that nowadays, people who show basic human decency are called dumb, brainwashed liberals. Showing some kind of basic EMPATHY shouldn't be political.

I hate that nowadays, you can't express your fury and despair about the way the refugee crisis is handled without getting the sadly famous answer, "you can take them to your home if you're so sad".

THIS IS HARDLY THE POINT. I'm merely asking for my government to use the taxes I pay wisely, and by wisely I mean : yes, taking care of the refugees is an emergency.

I hate that people are feeling more offended over the 25€ per day that taking care of one refugee in an official center (in France) costs than the billions our politicians make every day while spreading cynical and hateful speeches.

I hate that I don't recognize myself in my country anymore.

I hate that papers have to actually WRITE an article to remind people that no, it's not okay to let insufferable comments under their news posts on Facebook.

I hate that so, so much.

I hate that we're so fucking blind and selfish that thousands of deaths in the Mediterranean sea do not even create an electroshock effect on the European inhabitants.

I hate, hate, hate to read stupid comments comparing nowadays refugees to French people in 1940 and stating that "we stayed to fight".

People. Please. It's common knowledge that most French either collaborated or LET IT HAPPEN. The resistance fighters were amazing and deserve our recognition, but they weren't that many before 1944/45.

I hate the ignorance that makes people say, "they're not even from Syria! They're from Soudan and Eritrea!" as if they were making some kind of point. HAVE YOU LOOKED AT WHAT IT MEANS TO LIVE IN ERITREA AND SOUDAN TODAY? HAVE YOU?

I hate that 4,500 refugees out of a population of 65,000,000 is called an invasion.

I hate that reading Saint Death made me think, oh my god, there too, oh my god.

Yes, I've been drawing similarities from the first page of Saint Death. Admittedly, I know nothing of the way the general market works in America, but let me infer from what I read and notice how similar our situations are. Whether in the US or in Europe, we let big societies tell us that it's okay to exploit people if it's for our own benefice, that it's okay if they earn billions because really, they must have deserved it, right? They took their fate into their hands, right? Who cares if their rules are so unfair it makes me want to throw up, right? I mean, poor people wouldn't have any job without these big societies, right?

Right.

Well, I guess that the difference between France and the US is the general distrust we feel for big societies in general - but it changes nothing in the end.

We're still letting people die at our doors and we're washing our hands on it. More than the sole story of Arturo, as captivating and moving this story is, this is what Saint Death is about. This is also a really well-written and well-researched novel that draws you in and never lets you go. Please read it.



PS. Please refrain from posting xenophobic comments under my review, because I will flag them. You've been warned.

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[Lucy Banks · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received a copy of this book from Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

A gritty, brutal examination of gang culture in Mexico.

This is a fast-paced tsunami of a novel, which washes through at an almost astonishing rate. Hence I managed to finish it in record time... it really became a compulsion to read!

The story follows Arturo, a poverty-stricken young man living in Anapra, a rough, crime-riddled town in Mexico. One day, his old friend Faustino turns up out of nowhere. It turns out, Faustino is now part of a gang, and is in serious trouble - owing the gang leader $1,000, which he stole to get his girlfriend and baby out to safety.

Arturo is dragged into a dangerous card game to win the money back for his old friend, with disastrous consequences. Throughout, I was unable to predict where the book was going, which was definitely one of its strongest points - Sedgwick keeps readers guessing right until the end. However, don't expect a cheery ending. As is so often the case with real life, the outcome is bleak, and the overall message is one of hopelessness.

Overall, I think this was an extremely well-written book. The depictions of Mexico were very evocative, and the characters felt authentic. One thing that niggled me though - Arturo winning the money, only to lose it all, plus even more. It just didn't seem to sit with his character at all, and this section of the book really jarred with me. There were a few other little bits that weren't quite convincing either - for example, including Arturo's father at a late point in the book - I would have liked to have seen this seeded in a little earlier, to make it more high-impact.

But these are only small niggles. It's a powerful book, one which exposes the unfairness of capitalism very well - and the horrible exploitation of Mexican workers. It also captures the enduring power of friendship in the face of adversity, and the desperate desire to survive, in spite of the odds.

[Helen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nowadays it can sometimes seem as if most YA novels are forced to rely on eye-roll-inducing tropes or unrealistic insta-love stories to get people's attention, but whenever I find a gem like this I'm reminded of all the reasons I keep coming back to this genre. This book is technically aimed at teenagers but it never shies away from challenging topics or attempts to sugar-coat the brutal reality to make a more teen friendly story. It gives teens more credit than that. The reason I’m giving Saint Death five stars is because it really challenged the way I see certain issues and it stayed on my mind long after I’d finished. It really reminded me of how lucky I am and of how much I take for granted every day. Unlike many other books which sought to promote this message in a much more heavy-handed manner, this book’s preoccupation with the patron saint of death really drove home for me the importance of not wasting a day, and it was all the more effective for its subtlety.

Saint Death follows the trials of Arturo, a teenager managing to survive in the rough neighbourhood of Juarez on the US-Mexico border. He’s spent his whole life keeping his head down and avoiding trouble, a policy that’s worked pretty well for him so far, but abruptly ends when his childhood friend turns up on his doorstep and asks him for help. After finding out that his friend stole a thousand dollars from the drug cartel he works for, Arturo agrees to use his proficiency in cards to enter a high stakes game in order to win it back. The plots centres around Arturo’s subsequent immersion into Mexico’s gang culture, but more than anything the story is defined by his relationship with Santa Muerte (Saint Death), a local saint that Arturo has previously scorned as superstition. The plot was also intercepted with the odd italicised passage on the Mexican traditions surrounding this ‘saint’, and how she relates to the deeper fears and desires within us all.

The entire timeline takes place across two days and the heavy subject matter does nothing to diminish its fast pace. I flew through this book, as it moved from one suspenseful scene immediately onto another, barely pausing to take in the scenery. I felt unexpectedly attached to Arturo, a hero I’d spent only around 200 pages getting to know, and the main reason I finished this book so quickly was because I was so desperate to find out how in the hell Arthuro was going to get out of this shitstorm he’d landed himself in. Whatever I was expecting from the ending, it wasn’t that. The ending wasn’t necessarily ‘happy’, but it was oddly fitting and suited the tone of the book and the message it was trying to send.

This book has never been more relevant – or more needed. People who espouse anti-immigrant propaganda really need to let books like this enlighten them and demonstrate that immigrants do not bring crime, they don’t steal jobs (indeed they help the economy grow) and above all show that they are people . They are no different and no less deserving of a decent life than anyone born in a wealthy country. Sedgwick also points out the irony of Americans in particular being anti-immigrant when the vast majority of them are descended from comparatively recent immigrants themselves.

This is a book that seeks not only to entertain but to ask questions of its reader. Aren’t we all technically immigrants? Is it better to abandon your morals or to die holding on to them? And what sort of legacy do we want to leave behind?

This book should be mandatory reading. We’d all be better off for it.

[Elle (ellexamines on TT & Substack) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Actual Rating: 3.5 Stars. Many books have a message at their core. Some of them execute this message well, keeping it subtle but intriguing. Sometimes, books such as this throw everything that makes a book good away in favor of symbolism.

(Wow, I am really enjoying these cheesy openers nowadays. Great.)

Yes, I'm on a tangent right now. Bear with me. What I'm getting at is that there's a wide spectrum being meaning and being generally interesting. And I think at places, this book just wanted to get a message across.

Don't get me wrong - it's a great message. Immigration rights are important and the amount of xenophobia around our world right now is fucking horrifying. But if you're writing a book about immigration rights, you need to make me feel for the characters. Because at its core, immigration is a human issue, an issue not of statistics on a page but of individuals going through a terrible situation.

I believe that focusing on a few specific characters was Sedgewick's intention, but honestly, I found myself pretty underwhelmed by his execution. While I didn't hate either main character, I find myself hard-pressed to name any of their personality traits. The thing about Sedgewick is that he's fantastic at fast-paced, tension-driven, and occasionally emotional books. His books are strongest when taking quick journeys with many twists, such as in Ghosts of Heaven and Midwinterblood. However, he is not so fantastic at characters. That hasn't been a huge detriment to either of his other books, but I don't think this is a story he was willing to take on.

So why is this still getting a four? My manic desperation to finish. I don't know what it is about Sedgewick's writing that makes me so engrossed, but man, I want what he's having. I couldn't fucking breathe while I was reading this book. I had to put it down at one point because I was breathing so fast. And despite some of what I said earlier, I do think this book was powerful. It definitely made me feel, even though I don't love the characters that much. Sedgewick is just so, so fucking engaging. It actually angers me how effortlessly good he is.

So I think I would recommend this, though not to quite the same degree as some of Marcus Sedgewick's books.

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[Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Remember this: every man has to find out for himself in what particular fashion he can be saved. I believe that. You just have to find out what it is you're looking for.”

...

Saint Death is a book that is...really hard for me to review.

Marcus Sedgewick is an author that I love. There's something about his books, something about his writing that's otherworldly. His stories aren't just compelling; they're imaginative and full of depth and importance.

This book is no exception.

Saint Death follows a young man named Arturo, who gets by working odd jobs in the city of Juarez. One day, his life takes a turn when his old friend Faustino approaches him with a problem: Faustino has stolen $1000 dollars from the Narcos to smuggle his girlfriend and their baby across the Mexico-United states border. If he doesn't get the money back in 24 hours, Faustino will die.

So, Artruro and Faustino spend the next 24 hours on the hunt for the money, and all the while, Sante Muerte watches over them.

Trust me, this book is so much more than that.

Saint Death is a profound, timely story that is incredibly important. I was pulled into Artruro and Faustino's lives, into the city of Juarez, Mexico. I was exposed to a world that I've never been a part of. I'm so thankful for this book. Sedgewick speaks of poverty, immigration, borders, and the fear of the "Other" in this book, and I was appalled and angered and in awe of Sedgewick's ability with the written word.

I said this was a timely book, right? Because it is. Our current political climate in the United States is full of hateful rhetoric and irrational fear of immigrants. Sedgewick centers around Juarez and Mexican immigrants coming into the United States, but even bigger questions are raised throughout this book. What kind of world are we moving toward? Aren't we all immigrants, from a common place of origin?

This story highlights the injustices faced by millions of immigrants every day. Young people, children, and families wish to make a better life for themselves; is it so bad that they want to leave inequality, corruption, and poverty behind? Immigrants aren't dangerous, or lazy, or criminal. I'm continuously appalled by America's growing sense of isolationism. And the US isn't just on this path; so many countries around the world are moving toward a future of alienation that's alarming.

Artruro's story is one of loss and misfortune. His life is beautifully encapsulated by Sedgewick's gorgeous writing, and I've come to realize that his books are full of otherworldly imagery that evoke wonder and emotion. It's weird and oh so brilliant. I was continuously enthralled by Santa Muerte, her reach towards the characters, and the personal conflicts Arturo faced.

I was nervous for our characters' fates. I was appalled and saddened by the daily truths of their lives. I wanted them to be happy, and find safety and opportunity for themselves.

I must say: I wanted to be more invested in our characters. I wished that the book was longer. Even though this story is an incredibly important one with so much to say, I felt that Sedgewick gave us the bare bones of the story. I appreciated Sedgewick's ability to say so much in such little page time, but I couldn't help but feel like I wanted more.

I was enthralled by this book from page 1. Sedgewick is a go-to author for me now, and I love his storytelling. If you're looking for an important read that'll keep you on the edge of your seat, read Saint Death.

Sedgwick is underrated as hell and his talent needs to be appreciated. I can't wait to read more from him!

[Melissa Stacy · Rating 1 out of 5]

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.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

A lot of people die in Marcus Sedgwick books.

They might be murdered by loved ones gone mad, or killed by ancient Norse vampires. And so it is no surprise when people die in his latest book, Saint Death.

However, there are no mystical spirals of madness or viking vampires here. Instead you have the cold reality of life and death just south of the border, a culture that is fueled by poverty, greed, desperation, and founded on America's need for cheap goods and drugs.

This slim little book takes place over the course of twenty-four hours, during which lives are changed, and lost, over a matter of money, of friendship, over a turn of the cards. It's bleak, and heartbreaking, and a very important book for our time.

[Justine · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Remember this: every man has to find out for himself in what particular fashion he can be saved. I believe that. You just have to find out what it is you're looking for."

This is my fourth Sedgwick book, and he has yet to fail me so far. Like with his other renowned literary YA works (The Revolver, Ghosts of Heaven, Midwinterblood), Saint Death is the kind of novel that screams "Notice me!" to academic critics who dismiss YA as a genre incapable of being conceptual and complex. Saint Death is equally philosophical and thought-provoking when compared to his previous works, and like with Sedgwick's Ghosts of Heaven, he uses the Jungian concept of the collective unconscious to emphasize how all of us are inherently connected, dating back from the pre-historic period till now. For me, this is Sedgwick's real strength as a writer: the way he weaves philosophical themes into his works. The beautiful imagery and riveting plot are just complementary, really. Here in Saint Death, Sedgwick tackles absurdity head-on, while still highlighting the indomitable human spirit. He raises the question of why do we keep living on when death comes for everyone and all our efforts will eventually be laid to the ground? There is no clear answer to this, highlighted even further by the bleak ending, and I guess, this type of raw, honest depiction of humanity stays true to the kind of writer that Sedgwick has always been. Yet again, he leaves a big question mark and refuses clear-cut answers instead of just sticking with a tragic ending.

There are some reasons though why I'm docking a star. I have mixed feelings about the political commentaries he added through newspaper snippets and editorial articles. Some of them worked, and some didn't. Unfortunately, some parts felt like the author was preaching to the choir instead of simply highlighting the plight of people near the borders. It felt like Sedgwick was personally lecturing conservatives to be more accepting of undocumented migrants, and it bled occasionally even in character conversations. It needed to be more subtle than this. Readers are supposed to come to this conclusion on their own through the sheer pull of the narrative, without being told to believe so. I wanted Sedgwick to nuance and make more subtle his political commentaries, and embrace the philosophical further. Thankfully, he went for the latter nearing the end.

But other than that, this book is a pretty solid read. Not only is Saint Death conceptual, complex and philosophical, but it is also woven with interesting cultural elements (particularly Santa Muerte) that will make you want to know more about Latin America. Whether you end up liking this or not, there's a lot of material to unpack in this book - that's for sure.

[Rashika (is tired) · Rating 4 out of 5]

***This review has also been posted on Xpresso Reads

Saint Death is one of those books you are going to want to hurl across the room, not because you hate it but because its too painful. Or you could do what Joey does and put scary books in the freezer for another day. The release of the book is so timely and I hope that it will reach the hands of many because it is such an important book. Right now, the conversation surrounding immigration is one of the most politically charged ones. People feel like immigrants are ruining their lives and that the answer is to throw up metaphorical and literal walls between countries. To this I respond with: "If You Don't Want Refugees, Stop Creating Them."

I am going slightly off topic and that's fine because Saint Death is a book that is going to start conversations (and it actually does go into the idea of first world countries creating immigrants.) In fact, it's probably going to win some awards and that's cool because teens need to be having these conversations just as much as any other demographic. They themselves or people they know are going to be impacted by the changes happening in the world right now.

Anyway, Saint Death is a book about immigration. It is set in Mexico and tells the story of Arturo, who has agreed to help his friend earn money he stole to pay for someone to help his family cross the border back (I AM SORRY ABOUT THAT LONG SENTENCE.) What follows is a complicated journey into human minds and egos but also the world. The world, as we know (or if you don't know, SPOILER ALERT), is a terrible place and the book explores that to a large extent. It explores the complicated relationships between Mexico and its much richer, northern neighbor. We get to see how the American capitalism dream has ruined lives in Mexico and we get to see how the American government has had a hand in ruining lives as well. Sedgwick has clearly put a lot of research into this novel which I am glad for because this is a story that needs to be told and while its unfortunate we cannot have more #ownvoices stories doing it, I am glad that Sedgwick treats the subject with respect.

I also love that he incorporated how he incorporated Spanish into the book. Its done so seamlessly and beautifully. There are no italicized bits that make the Spanish stand apart from the English. The two languages in the novel blend together to create something beautiful and magical.

Sedgwick's incorporation of religion within the novel is important but also done really well. I never felt like I was being preached at and I loved that he simultaneously respected these religious beliefs while also keeping in mind the parts of his audience who might not share those same beliefs.

Sedgwick is a master of this craft and his words bounce off the pages of this book. Saint Death is a thought-provoking book and one I hope everyone will take the time to read. If you also want to read an #ownvoices immigration story,  The Secret Side of Empty by Maria E. Andreu would be a good place to start.

Note that I received an advanced copy of this book for review.

[Mandy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This review first appeared on Addicted to Media.

Located on the border of Mexico and America is Juárez, a town built on greed, corruption and death where corporations bleed people dry before the gangs sink their teeth into them. It is a town born of climate change and pollution, destruction and the pursuit of riches, where thousands of people live in shacks and water is a precious commodity.

What if this is the logical conclusion to the world we are creating?

This is the question Marcus Sedgwick asks in the final pages of his epic novel Saint Death. I say 'epic' but really, the entire novel takes place over 36 hours and takes about that long to read. What makes it so is the entire range of emotions the reader experiences while reading it and the fact that Sedgwick tackles every major issue impacting Mexico today.

And it's not just Mexico. Sedgwick has a message and it is a message he is delivering into the hands of the young adult market. These are the people who can change the world but they can only do it through wisdom, knowledge and understanding of where the world is headed.

I think this is probably the most important book to be released this decade. In the hands of millennials, already questioning how their elders destroyed the world, this book is pivotal.

The story in Saint Death is deceptively simple. Two brothers Arturo and Faustino have grown up in absolute poverty. One day, Faustino comes to Arturo with a problem, he owes a very bad man one thousand dollars. Knowing that Arturo is a master cards player, Faustino begs his friend to help him out.

What do they have to lose, after all?

Predictably, things go very wrong but underneath the surface of what happens in just one day is a story that reaches back to the ancient gods of Mexico and stretches forward to the cults and gangs of the present.

"He is playing calavera with the man who will kill Faustino unless he can take a thousand dollars off him by the end of the night. Standing right behind him is the narco who abducted Gabriel from Anapra that morning".

Every character in Saint Death has a story of loss, persecution and tragedy and Sedgwick weaves these stories together in a plot that is as complex as it is compelling. This is not a book about everyone in Mexico but it is a book about the disappearances, desperation and industrial wastelands of a strip of land on the border with the United States.

I give Saint Death by Marcus Sedgwick a superb five out of five stars and would highly recommend it to readers of quality literary fiction and those eager to learn more about this part of the world.

[Megan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy shit.

[J. Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

Always on his own terms, Arturo Silva, for those he loves.

[Hazel · Rating 1 out of 5]

This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review

What must life be like living in a poor neighbourhood? Every night your sleep is disturbed by gunshots, the people you know slowly disappear each time a gang raids the town, you live in fear for your own life. This is the concept international award-winning author Marcus Sedgwick explores in his latest Young Adult novel. Set in Anapra, one of the poorest communities in Mexico, Sedgwick delivers a story of poverty, gang crime and greed.

A young man – presumably still in his teens – named Arturo is living in a falling down shack, surviving on the small amount he earns at the local garage. Having kept to himself for the past year in order to remain safe, he experiences mixed emotions when his long lost friend turns up on his door stop – if you can call it that – and asks him to win $1000 by gambling at cards to appease a brutal gang leader.

What follows is an intense game against dangerous criminals with only prayers to Santa Muerte – Saint Death – to help Arturo get by. However, in the same way that the gang leaders are obsessed with wealth, Arturo begins to be overcome with greed, putting both himself and his friend in mortal danger.

Saint Death is not a book to be liked, after all, who would be fond of death, pain and violence? Instead it is a story that introduces an alternative culture to the readers – presuming that most will be from the more typical western world. Sedgwick throws us right into the slums of Mexico where religion, superstition, law and safety have an entirely different meaning. We learn that life in these areas is mostly a war between power and poverty, with the wealthy naturally championing over the rest.

Unfortunately Saint Death is a difficult book to read. For a start, it is a little bit boring. Whilst the events may be realistic there is no thrill or enjoyment garnered from reading about them. Understandably, Sedgwick is trying to bring a sense of culture into his work, however there is barely anything that a Young Adult reader can relate to. We are never told Arturo’s age and only assume he his in his teens, however he acts like a much older adult. It is difficult to imagine and comprehend the poverty, gangs and violence when we have not been witness to it ourselves. Whilst attempting to shock, Sedgwick lacks on description making it a challenge to picture the scene in our heads.

Prior to this book, I had only read Sedgwick’s My Sword Hand is Singing (2006), therefore I was unsure what to expect with his latest novel. It was my understanding that he tends to write horror or paranormal novels, whereas Saint Death was a complete change of genre. Of course authors experiment with their writing style all the time; some are successful, others less so. In this instance I personally think Sedgwick fell short of his goal, trying too hard to copy other writers that had influenced him to make this conversion. Whether Sedgwick decides to continue along this theme or revert back to what he has already been successful with remains to be seen, but I am hoping for the latter.

[Cheryl M-M · Rating 5 out of 5]

Somehow I missed the fact this is classed as Young Adult, and to be perfectly frank it doesn’t really belong in that sub-genre.

It is gritty, hardcore and it forces reality right down the readers throat. It was one of those books you finish and think ‘wow.’ At the same time you can’t really identify why. It is just a whirlwind of brash hard-hitting realism.

Faustino is looking for a way out of his slum existence. He is tired of being surrounded by uncertainty, violence and death. Each day is a struggle and the only opportunities for any kind of advancement in life are being part of a gang or a possible escape across the border. However the Coyotaje isn’t always the solution desperate people think they will be. They are ruthless groups/gangs with only one concern, to make money. They feed on the desperation of the innocent.

The descriptive scenes of the gambling are right on the button. People with the itch always think they can find the gold at the end of the rainbow. Just one more hand of cards, just one more attempt to outwit lady luck. Ultimately Faustino holds the weapon of his own self-destruction.

Sedgwick doesn’t pull any punches, he just whacks the reader right around the head with a literary crowbar. It’s hard to pinpoint why it is such an unusual read, perhaps it’s the gritty realism and the lack of compromise. Sedgwick is relentless in the portrayal of his authentic characters and the setting. Kudos to him for the merciless ending.
*I received an ARC of this book courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley.*

[Madeleine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is haunting, stayed with me for so long!

[Grace · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/5 Stars

Arturo was an honest yet frustratingly flawed character. No matter what he does, the odds seem to be stacked against him. I really appreciated his loyalty and commitment to get from one day to the next. Faustino was in an even more risky situation, but he, too, had been through a tumultuous childhood like Arturo. Both of them are just trying to survive, even if they choose different avenues to do so. Their friendship was complicated yet ran deep, prevailing through all that they went through. Other characters, like Siggy, Carlos, and Margarita, were only briefly in the story, but they left a considerable impact on Arturo.

Each chapter was separated by either immigration statistics, definitions, explanations of laws, or diary-type entries, and they add to the reader's overall understanding of the story and the terminology and reasoning behind these characters’ situations. I especially found Santa Muerte and her followers to be a really interesting and enlightening part of SAINT DEATH. Even through all of their hardships, these characters were able to hold onto their belief in her and her gifts. Overall, I learned a lot about Mexico that I didn’t know before, and I feel like I have a greater understanding of just how unequal things truly are.

Arturo’s story was by no means an easy read. It is a short yet extensive novel that touches on aspects of life, death, and fear. It may not be a feel-good type of read, but it is a necessary one. Arturo may be a character in a book, but his life is all too real for many. Sedgwick opens up the reader to a world they have never experienced, and, as a result, they can have more empathy and be more knowledgeable. In the political climate of today, reading is a way that we can connect with and understand each other, and SAINT DEATH is a prime example of that.

I highly recommend this novel to mature readers who are interested in issues surrounding immigration as well as those who are willing to learn about any topic. SAINT DEATH is for those who are not afraid to read something honest and heartbreaking. It is perfect for those who are looking to widen their worldview and perspective.

[Georgia · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to enjoy Saint Death since it’s about something very important. However, I felt like I had to drag myself through it (despite the events happening over a VERY short time period), and it was causing a book slump. It took me a handful of attempts just to get through the first few pages.
If you want a book that’s written in a very matter-of-fact way, you may like this book. But even when I was supposed to feel emotion, and KNEW I was supposed to be feeling emotion, it was just too factual.
Not saying that facts are a bad thing - there was a lot of very good information in Saint Death, which I do appreciate as it’s helped my knowledge of the topic.
Some parts seemed a bit too young for me and then other parts were brutal and not very YA-esque. This book did a good job at displaying harsh realities, however I couldn’t connect with it more than maybe a teeny tiny amount. I didn’t really like the characters, though their desperation was made clear.
I guess with Saint Death being such a short book there’s only so much you can squeeze in, and unfortunately I didn’t get along with it.

[elissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

His books are, in general, too dark for me. I didn't really enjoy reading this, although it was actually a pretty quick read, and I definitely sympathized with the main character. Maybe because it was so hard for me to read (subject-wise), it came across as slightly didactic? I don't know. I do think that there are teens who will definitely like this one, and I don't have any problem voting yes for it on the first Cap Choices ballot, although it's hard to imagine that it'll be one of my top 20 in January. It's at #10 at the moment. I guess we'll see by the end of the year.

[Dharma · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book had me at the edge of my seat. I absolutely loved the writing and the end just had me longing for more. The topics in this book were dark and the fact that things like this are actually happening is scary, but we need to face it, not shy away. This book didn't sugarcoat, and for that I am grateful.

[chloe · Rating 4 out of 5]

recommendation from dennis!

hmm this is not a book i would normally read but it was quite good.

i did not like his friend very much and all the god stuff was interesting but by halfway through the book i sort of knew what was going to happen

[Gavin Abdollahi · Rating 4 out of 5]

“It is a wall that is being built. And these are the bricks in the wall: the drug gangs, the police of Mexico and of America, MIGRA, the DEA, the governments and politicians of these two countries. Then there are the biggest bricks of all. Companies; these giant corporations that are more powerful than anything, more powerful even than the countries where they operate. The maquiladoras here; they pay no taxes. None. They pay wages so low that even a job still means living on the poverty line. ¿And why does this happen? Our leaders; they tell us that this capitalism of theirs will save the world; that it will create jobs so that everyone will get richer. ¡It’s a lie! ¿How can there be a consumer society when its workers do not earn enough to consume anything?”

This is my third Marcus Sedgwick book, the first two being The Ghosts of Heaven and She Is Not Invisible, which I didn't really care for. After those two, I decided that Mr. Sedgwick's books required an acquired taste.
This, though...
I will admit, it was at first, and it was never really exciting or anything, but... It was a good book.
Especially at the end.

OWRs:
Beautiful

Story: 8/10
It's nothing wow. More like one of those stories that follows one person's life and doesn't really have any fantastical events or stunning reveals. I'm beginning to see that I actually like these sorts of stories.
Saint Death's about Arturo, a man who lives in a broken down shack in a town with dissappearing women, constant gunfire, ruthless gangs, and also the deity who welcomes all into her arms: Saint Death.
Arturo barely gets by, but he does anyway, lugging car parts for a mean boss and earning pocket money by playing cards, which he is surprisingly good at.
One day, a stone is thrown into the still pond which is Arturo's life: his best friend Faustino, who dissappeared a year before, knocks on his door. He has gotten in trouble, and he needs Arturo to help him make some cash by playing cards.
Arturo then embarks on a journey... That you will have to read the book to find out.

Writing: 8.5/10

It felt like Marcus Sedgwick, alright. And when I say Marcus Sedgwick, I mean an emotionless, male robotic voice. Though, that may not be his fault... I did make Siri read parts of The Ghosts of Heaven and She Is Not Invisible for me.
Nevertheless, it felt like his writing in his previous book, which I think is great.
Unfortunately, though, his writing is nothing wow.
His descriptions aren't bad, but they aren't great either.
His story telling, though, is what makes him a great writer. He knows how to pace it, how to blow your mind with a stunning conclusion... Which is what makes this book so great.

Characters: 8/10
Arturo is... Very human. Mr. Sedgwick is able to pretty much flawlessly transfer the human aspect into him.
Though, the side characters aren't anything wow...

All in all:
I enjoyed this. I liked it. And I recommend you read it.

4.5/5 Stars.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fucking motherfucker. Read this one for our mid-year mock discussion (Printzmas) and now I have a lot of feelings and I hate feelings. Full review to come.

[Sid Nuncius · Rating 3 out of 5]

I struggled with Saint Death. I have enjoyed some of Marcus Sedgwick's books very much, but I didn't think this one worked very well.

This is a story of 24 hours or so in the life of Arturo, a poor man who lives, as so many others do, in a makeshift shack near Juarez on the Mexican side of the border with the USA. Life is wholly dominated by two factors: drug cartels whose power means that there is effectively no law, so they murder, rob, rape and intimidate as they please, and the factories which produce goods for US corporations, based in Mexico because of low wages and non-existent employment rights. The corrupting effect on everything is strongly portrayed; Arturo tries to remain honest, but becomes drawn into a darker world through loyalty to a friend in need of help.

It's a tough, bleak read, interspersed with quotations from people like Barack Obama, Noam Chomsky and others about the attitudes and economic forces which produce such places. There is a story with characters whose fate is charted, but in many ways this is a political polemic as much as a novel, with Sedgwick's stance being largely summed up in this sentence: "Juarez is what happens when greed makes money by passing things across the border dividing poverty and wealth." He excoriates the cartels, but also the rich people in the USA who keep them powerful by buying the drugs, and the US laws and corporations who exploit the poverty to increase their own wealth.

Even though I think Sedgwick makes very valid and timely points, as a novel I didn't think this really worked. It's more of a political cry of rage, really, and I found it pretty hard work to read. Only a lukewarm recommendation, I'm afraid.

(I received an ARC via Netgalley.)

[Reuben Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a while to get into this book. I have problems with concentration and with some books, reading is just more challenging than others. I think possibly what made it pretty slow going at the start, for me, was the dark, serious tone, the choppy nature of the chapters/articles/blog posts and such, and the fluid mix of Spanish and English writing. None of this is a negative, it just meant that I couldn't easily read it non-stop the way I could, say, a simple, fluffy, chick lit book.
My mum saw me reading it, pretty early on, and asked me "what's it about?". I have the proof of this book, without a blurb, and being so close to the beginning of the story at the time, I told her I didn't know. In a sense, that stayed true to the end. Obviously, I followed the plot, I came to know the characters and I really was invested in what happened, but it really felt like that was secondary. Like none of that mattered, as the book was more of a vehicle for Sedgwick's social commentary than a story in its own right. That sounds like I'm putting it down - I'm really not. It really interested me, and gripped me in a way that pure fiction wouldn't have done. It set the cogs in my brain turning and left me taking far more away from it after I put it down than any enjoyment I experienced in escaping into the story.
For most of the time I spent reading it, I was thinking "meh... this'll probably be a 3 ish..?" but right up to the last sentence my opinion of it was still forming and the fact that I'm still pondering the questions and issues it raised a few days after finishing, kind of confirms its quiet brilliance for me.

[Ambreen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book that will stick with me for awhile.

It follows the story of a boy named Arturo who is from a neighborhood in Mexico called Anapra, a poor neighborhood near the bigger city of Juarez. Arturo tries to help his friend Faustino who is in trouble from the drug gang in the city. It follows what Arturo goes through the next two days in order to help his friend. The reader does not only witness the fear and danger that folks live in due to the drug gang but also the realities of industrialization by foreign companies (mainly American companies because of NAFTA), and the barely livable wages that factory workers (women mostly) make, climate change because of those companies, and these very institutions that are built so that the poor remain poor, and the rich remain rich through money, drugs, American government given guns, violence, and power.

Meanwhile, the current administration is adamant in creating stricter immigration laws against the very lives that they are destroying themselves.

I had so many feelings while reading this book, but also afterwards for a really long time. It made me angry, frustrated, at times hopeful. You went through a roller coaster of emotions, the same way Arturo goes through them as well. By the end, I was nearly to tears because you know stories like these just don't have happy endings.

[Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a very interesting book. It was very serious and not really a book to read for fun, if that makes sense. The tone of this book very intense and I feel like it's more a of an educational read than something to read to relax. This book almost felt like the author's commentary on current events than a fictional story. And I really didn't mind that. It was very thought provoking.
I really loved the writing style and I'm definitely interested in the author's other books because of the writing style. I really appreciated the diversity of the characters and how much Mexican culture it brought to the table. The entire book is very relevant and I really liked seeing a perspective that I haven't seen before. I was very emotionally invested in the characters and even though I had a hard time relating to them, I still really liked them.
Overall, this was a really interesting, thought provoking read and I'd definitely recommend it if you're looking for a book outside of the norm.

[Cathy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A hard book, but so worth it. Plus I love the cover. :)

[Kate Mester · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've liked Sedgwick before, and the writing, at least in the first half, is well done, but the allegory/didacticism is so heavy handed and overblown and as a white Englishman, it's absolutely not his story to tell. The torture porn of brown bodies in service to a cautionary tale for what could happen to white society if we don't change is a seriously problematic mess. Wish I had read this before the BOB committee chose it so that I could have suggested an alternate title

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

disturbing but necessary read if you want a glimpse of how lucky you are and how unbalanced and corruot the world is