Sammy Santos lives in the poor Mexican neighborhood of Hollywood in Las Cruces, New Mexico circa late 1960s. Here he tells the story of his friends, his family, his community in a coming of age story about a boy who learns about loss and hypocrisy much too soon.
The long version:
This book was a gift in the way some reads are. Knowing that if you'd read it earlier in life, you probably wouldn't have felt that same way.
I already knew Saenz had a gift for writing engrossing Young Adult after reading Dante and Aristotle Discover the Secrets of the Universe. This book was written seven years prior and has more of the feel of fictional autobiography, or rather fiction steeped in personal experience. Even though I know that's entirely presumptuous, or sounds as if I'm not giving the author credit for having an imagination.
But I think the opposite is actually true. His sense of place and people and time is so keen and evocative, you can't but help but think it's coming from real experience.
Sammy reads very much like stream of consciousness, with internal repetition and him talking to himself. Which gives the narrative a sense of both immediacy and intimacy. Your heart aches for him throughout the book. It aches for him, it aches for his friends and family and Mrs. Apodaca, the crusty, opinionated neighbor.
It's also a beautiful window to a working class Las Cruces circa 1968, where the battle for civil rights and the war in Vietnam and the Summer of Love are all distilled through this small corner of the county as seen through the eyes of a smart, sensitive, heartbroken Mexican-American kid.
Good stuff.
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