Bernal Díaz del Castillo, The Conquest of New Spain (New York: Penguin Books, 1963), 416 pp., $16.00. Translated with an introduction by John M. Cohen.
Mario Vargas Llosa, Feast of the Goat: A Novel (New York: Picador USA, 2002), 416 pp., $15.00. Translated by Edith Grossman, originally published by Alfaguara under the title Fiesta del Chivo.
Michael Reid, Forgotten Continent: The Battle for Latin America's Soul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007), 400 pp., $30.00.
Jaime Suchlicki, Cuba: From Columbus to Castro and Beyond (Washington, DC: Potomac Books, 2002), 278 pp., $24.95.
Lily Tuck, The News from Paraguay: A Novel (New York: Harper Perennial, 2004), 272 pp., $13.95.
City of God, 130 min., Miramax, 2002.
IT WOULD normally be far-fetched to combine into a book essay works as different as a novel about the improbable love between an Irish woman and a future Paraguayan dictator written by a Paris-born New Yorker, a novel-written by a Peruvian who resides in Spain-about a woman who works and lives in the United States in the 1990s but visits her ailing father in the Dominican Republic and remembers the dark years of the Trujillo dictatorship, a detailed and highly analytical account of recent economic and political developments in Latin America written by the editor of the Americas section of the Economist, and an electrifying film about street children who go through a real-life "survivor" experience in Rio de Janeiro. If you throw in a classic narrative by a sixteenth-century conquistador-turned-historian and advocate of indigenous rights in the Americas, and a detailed account of the history of Cuba-from Columbus to Castro, and beyond-relating all those works should seem a formidable task. But these are the top picks of America's Southern Command, the Department of Defense's arm in the region. They tell a story of a Latin America mired in income and social inequality, facing challenges of historical proportions, dictatorial leaders and international influence. At times these themes are at the very heart of the works, at others they lurk in the background, but all provide a glimpse into a region on the brink of monumental change.
Latin America seems to be inseparable from inequality in most works of literature, art and history. Whether one reads a fascinating description of Asunción (the lame capital city of Paraguay) in the 1860s written by an American, or one is violently immersed in the crude realities of gangs and violence in the slums (favelas) of Rio de Janeiro in the late 1990s as portrayed in a powerful film by a Brazilian architect-turned-filmmaker, the stark difference in living conditions, opportunities and outlook in life that separates the "haves" from the "have-nots" is a stubborn thread. It reminds readers and film audiences that, be it in the Caribbean heat or in the Andes-mountain cold, the uniform and lasting defining characteristic of Latin America is inequality.
By world standards, Latin America is not a poor region. With a real GDP of about $5,900 ($10,000 when purchasing power is equalized), Latin America stands literally halfway between industrialized countries and the much-more-populous and emerging economies of China, India and the impoverished African continent. Yet, a more-accurate description would be to say that Latin America brings together-often within the same countries, same cities and occasionally even same neighborhoods-the wealth and prosperity of the most-industrialized nations in the world and the dispossession, despair and hopelessness of the most deprived. Latin American cities are home to some of the world's wealthiest men and women. But they are also habitats to tens of thousands of homeless children. In São Paulo, the most-prosperous city in Brazil, a visitor can easily be distracted by the sound of helicopters that bring high-paid executives to their downtown offices from the airport or their gated communities in the suburbs. But just as easily, a tourist will be interrupted by the sound of motorcycles speeding by through the crowded and impossible traffic or by the ever-present-but always heartbreaking-face of a nine-year-old girl begging for some reais to make ends meet. The high-scale commercial streets in most capital cities in Latin America will inevitably combine expensive stores with children performing circuslike acts at intersections, and adults offering to "care for" your vehicle when you park on the streets outside the most-glamorous mall.
