SOUNDTRACK: RUSH-Permanent Waves (1979).
When my friend Doug and I were hanging out back in the 80s, we both were getting into Rush at the same time. And because this album was in black and white this was the last Rush LP we bought. Imagine our surprise when it turned out to contain “The Spirit of Radio” one of the best hard rock anthems ever.
The cover art also featured a newspaper that read Dewey Defeats Truman. But the band got in trouble for it from the Chicago Tribune! I’ve never actually seen an actual cover with that headline (or the proposed fix: Dewei Defeats Truman). Huh, thanks internet, here’s a picture of it.
The disc also contains some (more) of my favorite Rush tracks. “Freewill,” a fantastic “smart” song features some insane guitar and bass work in the middle sections. And side one ends with “Jacob’s Ladder,” a 7 minute mini epic with precious few words that really evokes the simple concept of the sun’s rays bursting through clouds. It’s surprisingly moving.
Side two features two more short tracks: Entre Nous suffers from side two syndrome: it would have been a hit if it was on side one. While “Different Strings” is probably the last mellow song the band would write until the acoustic tracks on Snakes and Arrows.
For me, the best song is “Natural Science.” A three-part mini 9 minute mini epic that features very cool lyrics, acoustic and electric guitar, a mid-song (short) drum solo and an incredibly intense heavy metal section. And I have been really really psyched that they play this live again.
This disc marks an interesting transition from the prog rock heyday to the poppier commercial side that would soon arrive. It’s a great mix of truly classic classic rock, real virtuoso performances and a couple of nice pretentious epics. You’ll but it for Spirit of Radio, but you’ll get hooked by Natural Science. “A quantum leap forward, in time and space….”
[READ: Week of March 29, 2010] 2666 [pg 565-633]
Before I start with the final week of the Crimes, I wanted to acknowledge everyone else who has been doing a great job in the endurance-o-rama that is the winter/spring 2666 online readathon. I have been terribly remiss in mentioning (and even reading) as many of these posts as I would have liked (oh where does the time go). But there’s some folks who have been doing a great job bringing up issues and suffering through The Part About the Crimes with me.
Obviously our friends at Bolanobolano are hosting this event and keeping wonderful track of details that I’m too exhausted to do myself.
And of course, the cohosts in Crimes, Infinite Zombies, are keeping tabs on all manner of thoughtful aspects of this book.
Steve, who I often read on IZ, also posts at his own site: A Solipsist’s 2666.
The Daily Snowman has been offering interesting thoughts, as well as a Paragraph of the Week (often from 2666).
Naptime Writing always offers thoughtful comments as well as a quote of the week.
Bleakonomy offers brief summaries and ideas, as well as non-2666 related thoughtful ideas.
Alone with Each Other offers that rarest of birds: someone who really likes The Part About the Crimes.
I haven’t been reading these blogs as much as I would have liked (and maybe someday I’ll post a comment to one of them long after we’ve all finished reading), but what I’ve read, I’ve appreciated. So thanks for keeping me company out here.
And on to the last (and best) section of the Part About the Crimes.
I don’t know if the slow plodding death after death was like climbing a hill, but these last 68 pages were like speeding downhill with the top down. So much was packed into it. I was totally rejuvenated, thrilled to meet new (!) characters and totally unsurprised when the Part ended and absolutely nothing was resolved.
This final section focuses a lot of attention on Sergio González, the Mexico City reporter who was in direct contact with Karl Haas. And every time he thinks he’s out of Santa Teresa, they drag him back in. He decides that he wants to meet with Florita the seer (even though he doesn’t believe in seers).
He has to go through Reinaldo (since they look after Florita very carefully and won’t let just anyone see her). On the way to see him, he takes a taxi and we get a nice reprise to earlier incidents when the taxi driver asks where he’s from. Mexico City, says Sergio. I got beat up 7 times in one day driving a taxi there, says the driver. Things have changed, “now it’s the taxi drivers who attack people.” (565).
Sergio meets with Reinaldo and his (and Florita’s) lawyer, because everyone needs a lawyer these days. On the way to Florita’s house, Reinaldo reveals that he knew a famous Mexico City talks show host (whom Sergio had heard of but didn’t know). The host called him up to his hotel room despondent. Reinaldo was convinced that the host was going to kill him and then himself. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Reinaldo turned on the TV where they watched a (terrible) TV host interviewing a man who had entered and been kicked out of the United States three hundred and forty-five times within 4 years. He had become such a legend that the coyotes took him across for free. And other border-crossers thought of him as a good luck charm: as long as they avoided him once they crossed the border, they would be safe.
This tale so inspired the talk show host that he took the gun out of his pants and put it away rather than using it. Then he and Reinaldo went their separate ways.
We jump back to Sergio’s dinner with Yolanda Palacio where they talk about how things aren’t all bad in Santa Teresa. There is the lowest female unemployment in the country. 
[I was also fascinated to see the word helicoidal in this translation. I’d never heard the word before, and to see it used, in translational, was pretty amazing.]
Another woman was killed, but this time it was believed to have been by a prowler. Neighbors saw the prowler and warned each other about him, but after the initial warning, no one saw him again. Again, the samples were lost.
Sergio hadn’t thought Florita would be quite so old. After talking with her for a few minutes (she didn’t see visions, she saw things that came into her head), Sergio concludes that she is a charlatan with a heart of gold. But her overall picture was that all of the killers have big, swollen faces. And their joys and sorrows are huge, beyond the law.
The next woman to die actually made it to the hospital, but she died before she could reveal anything [I feel like these recent deaths are designed to give us hope…the killers are getting sloppy and we’ll get to the bottom of things soon.]
Then Klaus Haas called another press conference. His lawyer advised against it and very few reporters arrived even though he promised a stunning revelation. This revelation was drawn out in tiny paragraphs interspersed throughout other scenes (a standard technique by this time in the book).
And then a celebrity enters the book: Albert Kessler, FBI agent, renowned for dealing with serial killers and consultant for many Hollywood films was invited to Santa Teresa. There was as much excitement as there was outrage because of this fancy, expensive outsider coming into the city to take over the case. Who would pay for it? Why not choose a Mexican expert instead? Professor García Correa answered that being a criminologist in Mexico is like being a child in a cell block of pedophiles. And anyhow, according to the Professor’s grandson, the films that Kessler has consulted on are “plenty fun and the good guys always win” (579).
Karl Haas reveals the killer: Antonio Uribe. With this revelation, I loved the deadpan, unimpressed reaction of the reporters: Haas says, “That’s the name of the of the killer of women in Santa Teresa. After a silence he added: and the surrounding area. And the surrounding area? asked one of the reporters.” Chuy Pimentel took a photo of Haas as he revealed this and in it Haas looks like “a singing turkey or a turkey about to break into song, not just sing, but break into song, a grating song, a song of shattered glass” (579).
When another woman was found, Epifanio and Lalo arrive at the scene. Epifanio asked what Lalo thought about the crime scene. Lalo answered, “There is no crimes scene…it’s been deliberately wiped clean. Not deliberately, Epifanio said, stupidly, but it doesn’t matter. It’s been wiped clean” (580).
We learn a bit about Kessler’s background: he sleeps easily and seems to have a good family life. He and his wife would often go to the shopping center where they would see his book on display.
The next death sees Lalo asking why the killer bothered trying to dig a hole to bury her, when she clearly wasn’t going to fit in it. [Lalo is getting more and more screen time. Surely this is leading up to something?]
The night before Kessler arrived, Sergio got a call from Azucena Esquivel Plata [this was yet another case where I wondered if it was worth remembering this name…since so many people are introduced and then never heard from again I didn’t know if I should keep track of her, but she proves to play a huge part for the rest of this section]. Azucena is the PRI (Institutional Revolutionary Party, the official party of Mexico) congresswoman, the grand dame. She asks him to come down and meet her, and even though it’s the middle of the night, she’s wearing Stevie Wonder-dark sunglasses.
During Kessler’s first press conference, mostly he was asked about the movies he’s consulted on (was Terry Fox, star of Stained, really a psychopath?)
Antonio Uribe and his cousin Daniel Uribe are from Sonora and Arizona, dual citizenship (“Is there such a thing as Mexican-U.S. joint citizenship?”) (585). And their family owns a trucking company which is constantly crossing the border.
When Sergio and Azucena finally get to talking, the big thing on her mind is to ask if Sergio had ever heard of Kelly Rivera Parker. No, he hadn’t. And the rest of their discussion, until the end of the chapter, is Azucena’s account of Kelly. Azucena and Kelly met as girls (Kelly’s real name was Luz María).
Kessler, upon his arrival, creates a secretive path as he goes to a restaurant and orders food. While the food was coming, he walked over to the phones and made a call. Then he came back and buttered some bread. Then he got up to use the bathroom, but instead, he went out a back door, through the kitchen (tipping the workers), and got in a cab and drove around to some of the worst neighborhoods. (The taxi driver tells him a gringo’s life isn’t worth much there. Upon letting Kessler out, the driver asks for his fare. “Are you planning to leave? asked Kessler. No, said the driver, I’ll wait for you but there’s no guarantee you’ll come back with money in your pocket. Kessler laughed.” (589).
How does Haas know the killer? You hear a lot in prison.
Azucena’s family did not like Kelly. They felt her family were social climbers. But Kelly liked Azucena’s house better than her own. Azucena’s house had class, but Kelly’s only had style. Kelly’s was pretty, comfortable, full of amenities and a pleasant main room. While Azucena’s house (the very house they are in now) smelled like mummies and candles.
And then Azucena offers two comments on the state of Mexico: “In this country, we’ve always confused clarity with stubbornness, don’t you think. We think we’re clear-sighted, when in fact we’re stubborn” (592). And also, ” I have just one child, a son, she said. He’s in school in the United States. Sometimes I hope he never comes back to Mexico. I think that would be best for him” (593).
Kessler offends everyone at a gala dinner by first asking an American what he thinks of the situation in Santa Teresa. And yet no one revealed his angry to Kessler. And Kessler felt that the Mexican people were kind and warm hearted.
Haas explained that Antonio Uribe killed first; Daniel assisted in the disposal. But soon, Daniel got aroused by the killings and had to take part as well.
Another woman was killed, but as to the details of the crime: “The truth is, none of it made any sense.” (595).
When Kelly’s father died, her mother moved her out of the school she attended with Azucena and into a new neighborhood altogether. Azucena and Kelly talked daily on the phone. Then they moved to New York. At 18, Azucena went to college where she studied law and then journalism. She was also treated with fondness by her professors.
Kessler is treated to a wonderful breakfast of antojitos and pineapple juice with a hint of alcohol. (“These sons of bitches eat well, he thought”) (597). He and the inspectors drive around various locations. And their entourage attracts something of a crowd. Some people think they are narcos, but others recognize him (from the TV). At lunch he drinks a bacanora (which he finds wonderful).
How can anyone verify what Haas says? Simple. Call their parents and ask where they are.
The next murder was deemed by Juan de Dios Martínez to be an escalating crime of passion. Out of jealousy, the man shot his woman in the leg. Then, upon seeing her expression, felt rage or amusement (“the darkest expression of humor”) (600) and shot her other leg. Then he lost control. The worst part was that two policemen saw the couple arguing on the street but walked away before anything escalated. They ran back to the scene when it was too late.
Azucena’s sex life is legendary throughout Mexico. At 19, she took a lover just to see what it was like. Then she took other lovers, looking for a good one. Eventually she married and had a son. She divorced two years later despite the protests of her family (she’d be the first to get divorced). She basically told them to shape up or ship out .
Kessler tours another area where the policemen never go. It’s full of drug dealers and users. Kessler says it’s hard to imagine the residents actually being able to buy drugs.
What did Haas’ lawyer think of this? It’s all his idea, she said. Are you sleeping with him? they asked. It has no bearing, she said.
Then Kelly came back into Azucena’s life. Kelly had tried various ill-advised careers (actress, model) and decided to move back to Mexico where she knew people and to change her name from Luz Maria to Kelly. Meanwhile, Azucena began writing. Her ex-husband said she would be ostracized by what she was writing, but in fact it just garnered her attention from all sides.
Kessler was less impressed by the city dump than they thought he would be. Kessler says that the problem with the city is the city police (since they ignore the worst areas). The force is headed by Don Pedro Negrete. And then we learn something I hadn’t put together, that the University rector, Don Pablo Negrete is his twin brother. And although Kessler had met Pablo, he had not yet met Pedro. The chief of police.
While Kessler was enjoying his next glass of bacanora (Christ, it was good) another unmarked police car followed him (unbeknownst to him).
When the reporters left, Haas’ lawyer began sobbing.
On November 23, a march organized by WSDP had 5,000 marchers (according to the authorities) or 60,000 (according to the organizers). [Is this the march that Rosa Amalfitano was at?]
When another woman, María Elena Torres is killed, the inspector who investigated her lover found him and the people he lived with to be the worst smelling individuals he’d ever met. They had no toilet and no running water. How did he become anyone’s lover? he then proceeded to wash them and beat them with a garden hose.
Then Kelly became an art dealer or gallery middleman. But then her work dried up. So she tried to get into clothing. Not haute couture, just regular clothes. However, she couldn’t manage her affairs. She also refused to get married. But she was in no way afraid to suck what she could out of men.
When Kessler gave his first lecture at the University of Santa Teresa, it turned out to be the most popular lecture ever and the social event of the season.
Only one reporter from Haas’ press conference reported about the Uribes. The rest had called the police for comment and were told in no uncertain terms that it was all false.
Mary-Sue Bravo, one of the reporters, even tried to interview Daniel’s’ father, but her attempts were in vain. She ran into the reporter (from La Raza) who had published the story without confirmation from the police (thus risking a lawsuit from the family). They spoke briefly and then she went on her way.
Azucena’s star kept rising and she was constantly busy: dinners, trips, meetings, interviews, denials, lovers, men she fucked to keep her reputation alive. Her money was in the hands of her lawyers, her son was at school and she was busy busy busy. During this time Kelly was the only friend she saw. Kelly’s clothing empire had faded, the models had left for America and Kelly’s prospects were fading into darkness.
Azucena would write checks for her, but Kelly explained that she was starting a new business, organizing parties in provincial capitals. Azucena asked what that meant and Kelly explained that she made sure the guest list was full of VIPs. Then one night, Kelly called to say she was in trouble. When Azucena asked what it was, she said never mind. She was now a party planner, and everything was fine.
Mary Sue Bravo was reading La Raza and learned that the reporter who covered the Uribe accusation had disappeared. José Hernández Mercado had been missing for nearly a week. He had written several books of poetry and drama.
Three months later, Kelly disappeared. Kelly’s partner called Azucena and was very worried. The last people she had arranged a party for were the Salazar Crespo family. Salazar Crespo turned out to be a banker who laundered money for the Santa Teresa cartel. Armed with this information, Azucena flew to Santa Teresa to meet with the mayor, who kissed her ass, but couldn’t promise anything.
Mary-Sue Bravo asked her editor is she could investigate the disappearance of Mercado. She contacted the boy who wrote of Mercado’s disappearance and together they went to Mercado’s house. It was a cute house that was in pristine shape. It looked like it hadn’t seen any violence or burglary. She didn’t find anything interesting, just the beginning of a novel.
Azucena felt that all the men in Santa Teresa politics were fudge packers. No one talked about the killing of women (which was by then common knowledge) no one talked about Salazar Crespo and no one had heard of Kelly Parker. Azucena called a press conference to tell Kelly’s story and to say that she would be unfailing in her determination to get to the bottom of this.
While she’s in her hotel room, there’s a scene with two mirrors that reminded me an awful lot of the scene with Norton from Part One.
Eventually she decides to hire a detective. She is recommended to check out Luis Miguel Loya who used to work for the attorney general but found he could make more money privately. She gave Loya all of the details (which he didn’t write down). He said he’d have news in three days. Loya’s report was ten pages long and showed all of Kelly’s dealings. She had worked for Salazar Crespo several times doing “party planning” which essentially meant high-class prostitution: bringing models to parties so that men could have sex with them.
But the real question is, Is Kelly dead? More or less, he said.
Mary Sue Bravo has a spooky dream and then called Haas’ lawyer. She was told that Haas was exactly the same. When Mary Sue asked how she, the lawyer, was she said “My life isn’t important” (625).
The next murder was fascinating. It basically involved a man showing off with his gun. He seems to have been infatuated with the woman that he accidentally killed when his gun went off. He then ran off and killed himself with the same gun. Lalo and Epifanio arrive on the scene. The man was a car thief. Lalo wonders Why would a car thief kill himself? And how come the gun involved was lost? “All very strange, said Epifanio” (626).
Loya was on the case for Azucena for two years. During that time, Azucena cared less and less for her constituents. Every three months Loya would update her: the parties were, in fact, orgies. They took place in McMansions (which they called narcoranchos). They are giant hous
es which go unused for most of the year. There’s usually one guard left there so the wild dogs don’t get in. But even the guards don’t have keys, and eventually they either wander away or go crazy. Then one day, one person and then more show up and the parties begin. Parties last all night, the men get high watch porn, target shoot, talk business. But they never made porn films there. And the people there were bankers, millionaires, other people from society, crime and politics. And Kelly just vanished there.
May-Sue Bravo heard again from the boy she went to Mercado’s house with. She told him she wasn’t going to write anything about the incident. When he asked why, she said because there was no story. He probably just left on his own accord for California or somewhere. The boy said, but he wouldn’t have left his books. Mary-Sue argued that there were book stores everywhere. But he replied, not the books he was writing.
Loya died of natural causes. Azucena had as much information as he could uncover. Azucena’s final message to Sergio: write about this. She won’t go to the gringos because she is a Mexican, and Mexicans should fight their own battles. She’d read his articles but thinks he pulls punches. Hit them hard and give them the truth. And of course, she will be with him every step of the way.
As the Part and the year 1997 comes to a close, two women are found, both of whom are nothing but remains. And that sums up the book pretty well: build up hope for a resolution, think things are leading somewhere and then you just get bags of unidentifiable body parts. And yet, despite all of that people can still celebrate the new year.
COMMENTS
Since most of us in the online readalong also read IJ, we have a tendency to use it as a point of comparison (even though it really isn’t comparable at all). But I will get in the comparison game as well, just to say that like IJ, each Part of this book ends with something way up floating in the air. And while the IJ ending was initially discomfiting, upon later reflection, it works quite well. I only hope that 2666 offers the same satisfaction.
For some reason I felt that this week’s read was full of read great quotes, typically one liners that summed up things in the book very well. It certainly made trudging through the blood much easier.
While I fully anticipated that there would be no resolution to this section, I am rather bummed that so many things were left unaddressed. Most egregious for me was the The Penitent. Man, I was intrigued by that. And there was a geometry book mentioned in this section, although I don’t think it was the same one (i mean to write down the info, but I forgot). Of course, the list of unanswered questions would be as long as the total number of deaths in the book. But I think if you anticipate getting no answers, why, that’s okay.
I am very curious if any of these things will be addressed in Part 5. I’m told that Part 5 is where the whole book comes together. From the other Bolaño books I’ve read, he doesn’t usually leave this much unanswered, so we’ll see.
There is some weird synchronicity that we are finishing the Part about the Crimes just before Easter. Let’s see if Part 5 can hold true with that metaphor.
For ease of searching I include: Bolano
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