Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor

Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

A searingly vivid description of the dismal underbelly of Mexico peopled by degenerates of various kinds – pimps, druggies, thieves, rapists, transgenders, faggots, paedophiles, murderers – in sort, the kind of rascally reprobates found in similar semi-urban regions around the world.

they made their way back home in the darkness that was growing thicker by the minute, swallowing all the colours around them, transforming the crowns of the trees and the shrubs in the cane fields and the canvas of the night into one solid mass of schist, against which the bare bulbs from the houses in town shone like tiny red carbuncles in the distance … when they were drunk as skunks and high as kites on the weed that the Witch grew in her garden and those mushrooms that flourished under cow pats in the rainy season and that the freak collected and preserved in syrup to get her visitors off their tits, properly spaced out and tripping all kinds of shit, their eyes like Japanese anime characters and their mouths agape because of all the things they were hallucinating

Add corrupt cops, poverty and witchcraft to this unholy brew, and you have a humdinger of a book.

View all my reviews