Of course, as a retired English teacher, I could go on for pages about what characteristics make a piece of writing good: nuanced and realistic characters, a believable and suspenseful plot, imagery, natural-sounding dialogue, and on and on. However, two elements that I’m a particular sucker for are a non-linear plot and lyrical descriptions. Both are present in “The Boundaries of their Dwelling,” by Blake Sanz, the winner of this year’s Iowa Short Fiction Award.
In Sanz’s book, which was released Oct. 15, characters
cross boundaries of culture, language, nationality, society, and morality. The
stories are set in Texas, Louisiana, Miami, and Mexico, so they especially
resonate with natives to this region.
The first story in “Part I – Lives of the Saints” is “¡Hablamos!”
about two 17-year-old girls from Mexico City who travel to Miami to appear on a
Spanish-language talk show similar to “The Jerry Springer Show.” They are given
aliases and asked to “play” two sisters who will first argue heatedly and then
shock and outrage the audience, who want to be shocked and outraged. The girls
see it as a lark, but the show doesn’t go as planned.
In “After the Incident, Mary Vasquez Teaches Burlesque,” the
title character delivers a monologue to her students, revealing her
transformation from ballet to burlesque, from Maria to Marina Valentina, and
suggesting it was prompted by the crossing of a moral boundary. The monologue
is filled with delightful alliterative phrases and epithets, like “titillating
traitor and translator” (61) and “Magdalenean Madams of the Metroplex” (54) and
“fellow floozies” (59). Despite the clever and amusing language, the story is
no comedy, but rather a loud triumph over trauma.
The last story in Part I, “Godfather,” introduces us to
Manuel and Tommy and prepares the reader for “Part II – Manuel and Tommy.” Each
of the stories in this part is about one or both characters and their failures
at their father/son relationship. The stories are out of chronological order,
but work together to produce a coherent narrative, which make this part more
novella than a collection of short fiction.
In fact, there is an additional story in Part I that
includes a character that we see later in Part II. After I finished the book, I
found myself returning to the early stories to find more connections. I also
find this book still in my head long after finishing it.
“Hurricane Gothic,” from Part I, is another non-linear story
about a Louisiana man who repeatedly rebuilds his house after a succession of
hurricanes. He also has to deal with his drug-addicted son, whom he tries to
reform after his release from prison, and his own depression.
The stories in Sanz’s collection are so moving and evocative that I would like to describe each one. However, it would be better for you to read the entire collection. In fact, I suggested this title to my book club, hoping to discuss it with them later. Although this is Sanz’s first collection of stories to be published, I hope to see much more work by him, in both short and long form.
