Havoc by Deborah J. Ledford, Thomas & Mercer, 344 pages
Fresh off the publication of Redemption (Thomas & Mercer) last year, Phoenix-based crime writer Deborah J. Ledford is back with the second book in her Eva “Lightning Dance” Duran series. Set on the Taos Pueblo, the series follows Duran in her efforts to fight crime and navigate her family’s personal challenges. [See “Authenticity tempered with humor drives new Pueblo-set thriller,” January 12.]
Redemption ended with Eva being sworn in as an officer with the Taos Pueblo police force after hunting both on and off the clock for her missing friend, Paloma “White Dove” Arrio, as a member of the Taos County Sheriff’s Office. She’s joined by Paloma’s teenage son Kai, her friend Cruz “Wolf Song” Romero on the Tribal police force, and Paloma’s brother Santiago, a powerful figure on the Taos Pueblo.
When Havoc opens, Eva and Cruz have a budding romantic relationship, and Kai, Paloma, and Santiago are mending their family ties as the teenager pursues his love for the natural world in college. But disaster strikes when a bank robbery in Taos by a masked assailant leaves a police officer shot and a young Native woman traumatized. Another tragedy strikes Taos Pueblo soon after, adding more chaos into the mix when it becomes clear both incidents have one thing in common: they were committed with untraceable, 3-D printed guns.
The issue of 3-D printed guns being manufactured and illegally sold somewhere on the reservation was brought up in Redemption without ever being resolved, so it’s no surprise it becomes one of the main conceits of the second book. The story takes place over a frenzied couple of days as Eva and her compatriots grapple with how to find both the weapons manufacturer and the bank robber, and the addition of several new POV characters rapidly swings the action back and forth. At a certain point it’s easy to wonder if Ledford will be able to wrap everything up by the end of the book, but a dramatic finale brings things to a satisfying conclusion.
Deborah Ledford
photo Lisa Christianson
Although not from the Taos Pueblo herself — Ledford is part Eastern Band Cherokee — the book is by all accounts carefully researched and respectful of the Pueblo’s culture. One of the main through lines of both books in the series has been the danger the Puebloans face both from outsiders who prey on Indigenous communities and those who are motivated to help the community without truly understanding what they want or need — something that’s relevant to more than just fiction.
While none of the main antagonists are from Taos Pueblo, the book also highlights the complicated politics of small communities. Eva is at times pulled between her boss at the PD and Santiago, who the book hints may have some secrets from the past he is not eager to have revealed. With any luck, a third book will give readers the opportunity to return to Ledford’s world and learn more about what’s hiding in the shadows.
NOT EVEN THE DEAD by Juan Gómez Bárcena, Open Letter Books, 420 pages
Spanish author Juan Gómez Bárcena’s Not Even the Dead — released last year in a translation from Katie Whittemore — begins in Colonial era Mexico and ends in present day New Mexico. In between is a stunning epic in the vein of some of the best chroniclers of border life.
The story begins in a remote Mexican village where Juan de Toñanes is living in obscurity after fighting in Spain’s brutal wars of conquest. He’s yanked out of his self-imposed exile when he’s summoned to lead a quest to find the messianic figure the Padre, an Indian who has been fomenting revolt against the crown.
Juan sets out on his journey, which dissolves space and time as he travels both inexorably north and into the future, carrying him through centuries-worth of Mexican history as he chases the Padre’s footsteps. Their paths always happen to miss, however, and the people Juan encounters along the road start confusing the Padre with a tyrant and Juan with the Padre.
After Juan finally crosses the border into the U.S., he finds himself in a desolate restaurant listening to a demagogic political figure preach to an adoring crowd about violence at the southern border before ultimately being driven through the Jornada del Muerto by a benevolent stranger.
“All roads lead to the desert,” his new companion tells him. And then the car stops.
Described in press material as reminiscent of Joseph Conrad, Not Even the Dead is comparable both to Antonio di Benedetto’s hallucinatory 1956 novel Zama as well as the work of Cormac McCarthy and Roberto Bolaño. It has the potential to become a classic of border literature, joining other contemporary authors including Fernanda Melchor and Álvaro Enrigue in paving new ground on a well-trodden topic.
While the allusions to Trump are probably the least subtle in the book (which also includes epigraphs from both the former president and philosopher Walter Benjamin in arresting juxtaposition), it’s probably more relevant to American readers now than it was a year ago as immigration once again becomes a lightning rod in a political fight.
“Haven’t I seen this before?” Juan wonders throughout his increasingly destinationless journey. Maybe a better question: Haven’t we all?
