Wow ... completely stream of consciousness ... it was very difficult to figure out who was talking ... or just thinking Had to give it up ... Skipped to the last few pages and still couldn't figure out what was going on ... It won a prestigious Mexican award for fiction, the 'Tusquets Prize. ' Not for the faint of heart. ( )

Two mysteries lurk in the book. One has to do with dead people. The other with the dialog: "who said what" is the question. All conversation is knotted into long, quote-free paragraph with no he-said/ she-said guidance. Some third person comments are thrown in the mix to keep you on your toes. The hundred characters require a Russian-novel-style list of players. But you get good at this puzzle after fifty pages.
Then the murders, more like stage set-pieces: silver bullets, no-gore scenes, love-revenge-bullet pops, and the narco-wraps dumped everywhere just for atmosphere. But the book has most to do with the wanderings of Edgar the detective from his therapist dealing with boyhood memories of onenasty priest, to a macho narco-boss fortress, to transie/bi hangouts, to breakfast joints, to bars, to an old flame's beds, to old friends turned killers, to a new age meditation center. You get a full plate of stereotyped Mexico. Along with a plot that has twenty possible turns.
I low-fived it, starwise. ( )

Elmer Mendoza

Mendoza (1949-) is a Mexican novelist and short story writer. He is a professor of literature at the Autonomous University of Sinaloa. He is a key figure in, some even consider him the originator of, the genre known as 'narcoliterature' that explores the effects of drug trafficking and corruption in society. Silver Bullets is the first of Mendoza's novels to be translated into English.

Silver Bullets

In the Mexican town of Culiacan, Detective Edgar "Lefty" Mendieta investigates the murder of a high-powered lawyer named Bruno Canizales. A singular feature of the murder is that Canizales was shot with a silver bullet; a former girlfriend who wants to kill Canizales (with an ordinary bullet), arrives too late to do so, so she goes home and shoots herself. The plot thickens as Canizales, a bi-sexual, cross-dresser is the son of a former government minister bent on re-establishing a political career, and another, erstwhile girlfriend is the daughter of a drug-lord who does not approve of his daughter's connection.

So we have the makings of a tortuous murder-mystery with a number of suspects and currents. There is, however, another, major structural element in the story: the lawless, corrupt way-of-life engrained in all aspects of society in Culiacan based on, and supported by, the ludicrously lucrative drug trade. It is a fairy tale of immense and flaunted wealth, above a world of sordid, blasted, wasted, short, violent lives.

[Culiacan is a real place, on the Pacific coast, about 1,450kms south of the US border. The population is about 600,00 people. The photographs of old churches and buildings on the tourism webpages are attractive, but the tourism touts neglect to mention that it is a war zone fought over by the drug cartels on one side, and the national police and army on the other. It is an area known not just for its death toll, but also for the violence of murders and dismemberments. Mendoza describes this a number of times with reference to the "gangsta-wraps": bodies, often mutilated, wrapped in ordinary blankets and left on roadsides, in abandoned lots, in ditches.]

The key to life in Mendieta's world is that no one is immune to the forces and pressures of corruption and violence; these are endemic; they are woven into the fabric of society at all levels. The guardians of order in society such as the police and the courts, are every bit as corrupt as the politicians and the businesspeople, all of them driven by conviction, fear, greed and ambition. At the same time, ironically, it is the drug cartels are often provide what we would consider government services: water, lighting, electricity, protection, even roads.

Mendieta and his partner, Zelda, are ordered to cease their investigation because people with influence do not wish to see it pursued. Mendieta summarizes the situation: "It's an impossible case, which soon no one will remember, in our report which no one will read, we'll say that once again the powers that be weighed in." A suspect who escaped by running when first confronted by Mendieta and Zelda, says that he did so, "because I was afraid, in this country falling into the hands of the police is the worst that could happen to anyone." Mendieta cannot give up the case, although continuing to probe and ask awkward questions runs him afoul of some unpleasant people.

Mendieta reads and thinks about books. He knows there is a better world out there somewhere, but he is trapped in his own. He drinks too much, he is an occasional user of drugs, he was sexually abused as a child, his personal life is a mess, he bends the rules of arrest and custody out of shape, he is not above accepting a bribe, and yet he strives to a higher commitment to justice. This is not the justice of the courts; it is personal, the justice of the frontier, because Mendieta lives on a frontier. He survives within its rules while at least trying to avoid or mitigate its worst aspects, or he perishes. And he might perish anyway because it is not difficult to offend someone somehow, and assassins with AK47s and armoured Hummers are a dime-a-dozen on the street.

Mendoza's writing style is dense. There are no quotation marks nor even paragraphs to mark a change of person in conversations; sometimes there is even a change from first to third person, all in a string in one paragraph. This can be a confusing at first, but it works if you go with it and catch the rhythm. The style feels like the natural flow of conversation punctuated by internal thoughts and extraneous interruptions by phones and other people.

The plot is well-constructed and moves at a good pace. The story ends with Mendieta taking a few days in Mazatlan, "where he met a brown-skinned woman who had one green eye and the other the color of honey; she was also a lefty; but that is another tale." This hints at further novels from Mendoza featuring Detective Mendieta, to add those already available. Those of us who do not read Spanish must hope that these are translated soon, because Mendieta is a personality worth spending time with.

Hundido por el abandono de la mujer a la que ha amado, y necesitado de psicoanalista, al agente Edgar «el Zurdo» Mendieta se le acumula el trabajo en cuanto se hace cargo del asesinato de Bruno Canizales, un prestigioso abogado con doble vida, hijo del ex ministro de Agricultura, al que encuentran con la cabeza perforada por una bala de plata. El teléfono del Zurdo no deja de sonar con las llamadas de su superior, que va anunciándole la aparición de nuevos cadáveres en tan sólo un par de días. ¿Quién hay detrás de todo ello? ¿Los narcos?, ¿los políticos alborotados ante las elecciones que se acercan?, ¿los miembros de la dudosa Pequeña Fraternidad Universal a la que pertenecía Canizales? La investigación, que no sin humor y adrenalina recorre antros y mansiones, y mezcla reporteros y bellísimas lesbianas, destapa un intrincado ovillo de perversos intereses, en el que el único realmente empeñado en ir hasta el fondo y, para variar, hacer justicia, es «el Zurdo» Mendieta. Tal vez porque ya no le queda nada que perder. ( )