“Mother rescued the three zebras that escaped from the London zoo”--so begins the first story in this whirlwind collection by C. M. Mayo. Though Mayo’s characters ricochet around the globe in search of diversion, money, enlightenment, cachet, and escape, she sets many of the stories in Sky Over El Nido in Mexico. This is not the gringo’s Mexico of margaritas, mariachis, and inscrutable house servants, but a fin-de-siècle world where a Mexican boy who guards tourists’ cars for small change wears a T-shirt that says “Six Flags Over Georgia.” Mayo’s strangely beautiful yet disturbing stories reveal characters who envision the solutions to their lives in a world where nothing is stable, nothing can be nailed down, and we are all suddenly, dizzyingly faced with sharing the same pitiless sky.
These short stories weren't easy to read. Thought processes seemed to leap erratically, though in some stories were somehow pulled together when the story stopped. I don't say ended because some of them definitely did not, and into the story line were juxtaposed collections of haphazard involuntary images. A few of the pieces are memorable, but most, if not all included both dark and light perspectives, which combined to produce middle-of-the road impressions.
The last story in this collection, "Rainbow's End," really ties everything together nicely and has, in my opinion, the strongest narrative voice. I liked the mix of people and places in this book, which examines Mexico City through varying socioeconomic backgrounds and geographical locations. The result is like directing Mexican life through a prism of different experiences. Some stories shine more brightly than others, but I took something away from all of them. Mayo's measured prose isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I enjoyed her style in small doses. The one aspect of this collection that I found tiresome was repetition in descriptive writing--it seemed like everyone had a "wishbone back" under some type of "gunmetal sky." At times I found myself getting bored with all of these slouching people hunched under the weight of rain clouds and would have liked some more descriptive variation. This is a short story collection about Mexico, after all, and I would have enjoyed seeing some of the more vibrant aspects of the culture interspersed with the gray.
C. M. Mayo produce una ficción muy particular: casi la totalidad de sus personajes pertenecen, en esta antología, a la clase alta mexicana (entendiendo que se trata de personajes que no han tenido que trabajar una sola hora en su vida y que van y vienen en avión a donde les plazca) y todos se encuentran jodidos: ni tristes ni mal, sino simplemente jodidos. Por fortuna, el lenguaje de la autora es en absoluto mucho más rico en referencias y efectos para describir el curso de esas jodidez: en el fondo, el argumento parece perseguir un objetivo final que se columpia entre el drama y la comedia y en muchas de las ocasiones, será difícil como lector decidir en qupe dirección está jalando. Creo que el mejor cuento de la antología es La Boda, seguida de Davy Whitlespoon Rex, en donde esta técnica de contar las cosas sin de verdad contarlas, pero contarlas bien, está plenamente conseguido.
I found Mayo's prose too measured and stiff, so unlike the beautiful, bold, lively colors of the culture she writes about -- and so unlike the sky. While I usually like offbeat characters and disturbing, strange stories, I didn't find any magic in these. It's a world with no community, no justice and no hope for stability. I was left with a sense of so much of life being a lost cause. That's not what I see when I look at the sky over me and my community.