Reviews and Comments

The premise of the book is fascinating: what would a Spanish expedition in the 'new world' look like, through the eyes of a Moroccan slave? I went into the book fearing it would be a hard read, but I should not have worried: the story will carry you through. Some interesting themes run through the book. First, the power of story-telling, and of putting things into writing (be it a map, a chronicle, or a notary act). Second, the way in which power and powerlessness interplay with human nature. Third, the relation between identity, 'race' and belonging. On the other hand, I wished the protagonist, Esteban, wasn't that perfect a man. True, he traded slave in the past, but this is put down to a moment of greediness, in an otherwise gentle, wise, and 'enlightened' character. He restrains from the violence and plundering in which the Spanish explorer engage, powerless to stop it. These traits put him in the position of the innocent witness, simply recounting what he sees, and judging it from the vantage point of an outsider (or, perhaps, of a XXI century author. Perhaps irrelevant, I couldn't help noticing that the book fails the Bechdel text. While Esteban is respectful of the women in his life, they are always 'alive' only as Esteban's mother, Esteban's lost love, Esteban's wife, etc. Though I understand the book is narrated from his perspective, and it is set in a 'men's world'...I couldn't quite get over it. Admittedly, it is also entirely possible that I missed the points the author was trying to make about these relations.

The premise of the book: the life of a white middle-class, childless, borderline depressed lady becomes entangled with the ones of a disadvantaged inner-city kid, and her abusive Domenican mother. Also, horses, and the kid's love for them, features heavily. If your mind works like mine, this screams "boring", and "problematic". Somehow it wasn't. I couldn't put down the book. I even enjoyed the horse-related description and metaphors - who would have said? Also from the 'problematic' front, the book is more complex than it could at first seem. I would not as far as to say that the book is not problematic at all - being partially written from the perspective of a kid of colour and illiterate mother. Yet, in my view, it has good reasons for being problematic, putting the white reader in discomfort. It delves into white guilt, and the self-censured racism that comes out when we are hurt, frustrated, angry, helpless, etc. It seems a useful thing for white people interested in overcoming white supremacy to talk honestly to each other about these feelings.

Santa Evita is a remarkable book, no doubt about it: beautifully written, original, with a captivating premise, complex characters, and multiple layers of meaning. It narrates the story of Evita's body after her death, of the men who lost their mind and peace after crossing its path, including the authors. It plays with the boundaries between history, fiction and myth, drawing a portrait of Evita, but, more to the point, of Argentina, over the course of five decades. Finishing took me ages, and a certain commitment. From browsing other goodreads users' reviews, I am not alone there. That's not necessarily an indictment of the book, but by the end I found myself growing tired of Evita and her myth, which - fundamentally - is just another version of the woman as madonna / whore, and her devastating effects on men. For a while I was hoping Eloy Martinez was going to snap his author's fingers and wake his readers up, pointing out that the trope is shallow, trite, and sexist too. In vain: he is in it up to his ears. (Read in the English translation Helen R. Lane)