Dreams of the Centaur: A Novel

Montserrat Fontes's American Book Award-winning novel Dreams of the Centaur is a gripping saga of family and history, public tragedy and private grief. In telling the story of the Durcals, a ranching family from the Sonoran desert, Fontes also dramatizes the plight of Yaqui Indians under the brutal regime of Porfirio Diaz. Jose Durcal is obsessed with wresting a name for himself and his family from the harsh environs of the Sonoran desert--so obsessed, in fact, that he extracts a promise from his 9-year-old son, Alejo: "Swear to me that if I fall, you complete my dream.... Swear to keep the Durcal name alive." Jose's dream can't be accomplished without the help of Yaqui workers, natives increasingly threatened by outsiders who want their land. The Yaqui have a reputation as bloodthirsty savages; Mexicans divide them--like animals--into tame (pacificos) and wild (broncos). As his wealth and influence grows, Jose befriends his workers and comes to insist on Yaqui autonomy, in the process alienating neighbors and even his wife, Felipa, whose own mother was killed by marauding Yaqui.

Years later, when Jose is murdered, his son Alejo finds himself driven to take revenge, even when he knows the consequences will be severe. Charged with killing a powerful landowner, Alejo is sentenced to the hell of the bartolinas, or clay pit prisons, starting him down a path that only brings him closer to the Yaqui. Enlisting in order to escape the bartolinas, Alejo becomes a soldier guarding Yaqui along Mexico's own Trail of Tears. When he deserts, Alejo is soon caught and drafted into working on a Yucatan henequen, or hemp plantation. There, he labors under unimaginable conditions alongside the Yaqui, as well as Maya, Mayo, and anyone unfortunate enough to feel the government's wrath. Alejo emerges from these trials with one purpose: to bear witness to all that he has seen--the torture, beatings, and rape, the killing slave labor. Fontes has a similar sense of mission, but to her credit, the novel's political consciousness never feels like sermonizing. Similarly, she blends her meticulous research into the story so smoothly that it's as if she were telling a story that happened only last year. The historical tragedy she depicts might lend her tale gravitas, but it's her insightful characterization--and her compassion--that gives Dreams of the Centaur its power.