In a career defined by an allegiance to the truth, Charles Bowden's reporting continually unearthed the gritty realities behind high-profile hype, including the doomed War on Drugs. His daring expeditions to Ciudad Ju�rez, which resulted in such books as his bestseller Murder City, left him with haunting images of ruthless drug lords and their prey. In Jericho, an unpublished work brought to light after Bowden's death in 2014, he captures the monumental corruption and addiction to power that fuel Mexico's drug cartels-and that have fueled much of humanity's suffering throughout the ages. Interspersed with scenes from the battle of the walled city of Jericho, which in Bowden's eyes is not a story of inspiring strength but of bloodthirsty plunder, the world of El Sicario (the hitman) unfolds in brutal detail. Bucolic settings such as the Falcon International Reservoir become the site of an unsolved murder as Bowden examines why the high murder rate in Ju�rez has yet to spill across the border. Yet, recalling his younger days in Louisiana and retracing the atrocities of racism in America, Bowden reveals a history where greed knows no borders, while undaunted voices (including his own) relentlessly expose its perpetrators.
Charles Bowden was an American non-fiction author, journalist and essayist based in Las Cruces, New Mexico.
His journalism appeared regularly in Harper’s GQ, and other national publications. He was the author of several books of nonfiction, including Down by the River.
In more than a dozen groundbreaking books and many articles, Charles Bowden blazed a trail of fire from the deserts of the Southwest to the centers of power where abstract ideas of human nature hold sway — and to the roiling places that give such ideas the lie. He claimed as his turf "our soul history, the germinal material, vast and brooding, that is always left out of more orthodox (all of them) books about America" (Jim Harrison, on Blood Orchid ).
I'm not sure in what order Bowden wrote these posthumously published books, but this one feels very final. There is the Bowden bitterness and beauty thing going on, but it also feels as if he's trying to make sense of the bad bad world and the course of his life and how to make sense of everything he's learned. Bowden weaves a few disparate threads together to paint his picture of the US-Mexico border and what he sees as its very bleak future: the story of a man killed on a lake straddling the border, and whether he was actually killed by Mexicans or whether his wife lied about the whole thing; moments from his experiences interviewing the sicario that became a movie; and observations and the history of the sandhill crane and the signs they give us. Bowden starts his story explaining that he's always connected things that don't seem to belong together, and that's what the book is. Seemingly unrelated fragments form the dark and violent image of a world that few people are willing to acknowledge. In Bowdens view a refusal to deal with these hard truths allow those truths to be wielded against an ignorant but vaguely terrified population in the service of awful political agendas. Does not suffer for being eight years out of date.