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This novel started slowly for me, but as I read further, I became totally captivated by the remote Mexican town and the diverse people who live in it. On the eve of the 1910 Mexican revolution, the town is a "village of black-robed women," as the first line of the book describes it, totally dominated by the most rigorous and harsh possible interpretation of Catholicism and the parish priest, Don Dionisio Martinez. Sex is frowned upon, with one of the leading organizations in town called the Daughters of Mary, a group of young women who are committed to remaining virgins, and retreats that focus on death and the world to come, with self-flagellation included, are a regular feature of the town's Retreat House. (Father Martinez flagellates himself every day, as part of his routine.)

But, as could be expected, below the surface much more is going on. Yáñez introduces a variety of characters early in the book, all of whom play an important role as the novel develops: the priest's nieces, Maria and Marta; another relative, Gabriel, who rings the parish's bells so compellingly they move people to tears, and who can barely communicate any other way; Don Timoteo and his troubled son Damian; young Pedrito, whose mother dies early; very unhappy and flirtatious Micaela; Mercedes, the head of the Daughters of Mary; a visiting woman, Victoria, who doesn't always wear black; other priests in the parish; and my personal favorite, the aging Lucas Macías, a tale teller whose stories of the past resonate in the present.

The calendar of the Catholic church informs this novel, as various saint's days roll around with their rituals, and there is a lot of liturgy (in Latin) included in the text. The description of the bells and how they ring is astonishing. The villagers have a fear of outsiders, especially northerners (they are in the Guadalajara region), including those who have been to the United States. The political deputy from the governing party is barely tolerated.

The book is dense and complex, and it jumps back and forth in time over the first year, with major events alluded to but not described until later chapters, creating a sense of foreboding. Often, also, Yáñez uses a chorus of villagers to comment on an event that is happening. As the first year ends, the pace picks up, and there are more references to politics and revolution, "the storm" that is coming, even to this remote town. (The Spanish title of this novel is "Al Filo del Agua," which an author's note says "is a farmer's phrase for the beginning of the rainy season and is often used figuratively to mean the imminence or beginning of an event"; however, the phrase "the edge of the storm" is explicitly used towards the end of the novel to refer to the coming revolution.)

As the novel nears it's end, even the Parish Priest, who has almost single-handedly tried to hold back the future, realizes that he is powerless to do so:

"The old Parish Priest had gradually become convinced by evidence that things were changing and his flock could not escape the changes; it was a feeling in the air, like the warm wind that announces nearby land, like the smell of smoke at harvest time, like the cold air that, one morning or afternoon, is a harbinger of winter. Whereas, before, he had been indefatigable, now Don Dionisio began to feel weary and to look forward to death. He was dissatisfied with himself, and was amazed to notice regrettable changes -- for instance, this repugnant curiosity which made him listen to worldly tales and be disturbed by them, the confusions in his reactions as a priest and an uncle, the depression when faced by worldly troubles, and, maybe, a lack of faith, of that serene blind faith which he had had in Providence." pp. 289-290

One of the beauties of this book is that, despite the apparent oppressive, unchanging order of the town as it is initially described, people do change, struggle with their changes, and even, sometimes, grow.

My edition (and it is sadly out of print) is enhanced by dramatic illustrations by Julio Prieto.

In the months preceding the Mexican revolution in 1910, not everyone is preoccupied with the political tensions they wrought. In a remote Mexican village in the Archdiocese of Guadalajara, one's whole existence is a never-ending Lent. In this monastic village, daily life revolves around the church and its rituals, every villager's thought, action, and motive engaged in through the prism of Catholicism's rigid teachings, the threat of eternal damnation the silent censor. In this village of black-robed women, to exercise one's own will is sinful, contemptuous, and heretical, and to feel a sense of happiness is to feel a sense of guilt. Here, there are no fiestas, dancing is held in horror. The only music is the sound of the bells tolling the passing of the dead, and the reminder for prayers, marking the faithful's penitential existence from one oppressive hour to the next... eternity cannot come soon enough! A central figure in this village is Father Martinez, an elderly priest whose devotion to his flock is equalled only by his understanding of human nature. His faith is sublime and forgiving. He is assisted by several priests, who supervise the pious societies -- heart of the village life. Most important of these societies are the Association of Good Death and the Daughters of Mary, whose rigid discipline govern dress, movements, speech, thought, and feeling of the young women.

But the silence, required by the inhabitants' unceasing contemplation of reward and punishment in the afterlife, is, here and there, starting to break and ripples are appearing on the surface of what had seemed to be a pool of sacred placidity. Not even the close and stern guardianship of Father Martinez and his priests, and neither communal nor individual acts of remorse for past or future sins, could hold back the auguries of change that they fear will destroy the security of their medieval-like existence and everything they believed in.

Agustin Yañez portrays the life of this village in a vivid and very compelling way, allowing us access into the minds of the characters who would play a role in the drama that would soon unfold. We feel the guilt-ridden thoughts and feelings of young Mercedes who believes she is in love; the rebellious anger of Micaela who has been to the city, seen a different world, and loathed her return to this prison-like place; the tortured soul of Gabriel who could only speak through the bells and whose life was upended with the arrival of a city woman; the conflicted feelings of Damian who has been to America but has returned for his inheritance; the unspoken dreams and secret hopes of Marta and the restless spirit of Maria who read forbidden books that spoke of the bigger world. Over all this, we feel the anguish of Father Martinez as he witnesses the struggle in the souls of his flock as they are confronted with seemingly small, innocuous changes brought into their lives by outside influences but whose impacts on their small, sheltered, innocent world would be tremendous. We feel his helplessness to prevent the tragedy that occurs, that he understands is even then, just the "edge of the storm." ( )