Publishers Weekly
09/04/2023
Enrigue (Sudden Death) once again reimagines history in this dynamic and stimulating chronicle of Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés’s expedition into the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan in 1519. Despite Cortés’s blunder of trying to hug Emperor Moctezuma upon their initial greeting, Moctezuma welcomes the Spanish expedition into his palace, where the party waits for their official meeting with him. The perspective jumps between a host of characters on both sides, including Moctezuma’s sister and wife, the princess Atotoxtli, who tries to counsel the emperor despite his melancholy and reliance on hallucinogenic drugs; and Jazmín Caldera, Cortés’s third in command who gets lost in the mazelike palace on a quest to find the expedition’s horses. As everyone waits for the fateful meeting, Cortés’s translator wonders whether the Spaniards are “visitors or prisoners.” Enrigue sustains a seductive yet ominous tone that evokes a persistent threat of violence, and he caps things off with a dizzying climactic scene that offers an alternative to the historical record and dovetails with the book’s heavy dose of hallucinogens. Flexing his narrative muscle, Enrigue brings the past to vivid, brain-melting life. Agent: Ria Julien, Frances Goldin Literary Agency. (Jan.)
From the Publisher
Praise for You Dreamed of Empires
"Enrigue’s genius lies in his ability to bring readers close to its tangled knot of priests, mercenaries, warriors and princesses while adding a pinch of biting humor."
— Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Los Angeles Times
"Enrigue’s work is marked by an all-consuming attention to historical detail.... He is a preternaturally entertaining and erudite writer who builds alternate worlds from the minutiae. He also seems like he’s having a pretty good time."
— Benjamin Russell, New York Times
“Incantatory... Enrigue conjures both court intrigue and city life with grace.”
— The New Yorker
“[S]ublime absurdities... abound in this delirious historical fantasia, which can be said to be many things: funny, ghastly, eye-opening, marvelous and frequently confounding.”
— Wall Street Journal
“Riotously entertaining...Enrigue revels in the salacious and the scatological, serving up a sensory feast. All praise for the translator, who has so magnificently grappled with multiple layers of language. As in her rendition of Enrigue’s encyclopedic novel Sudden Death, Natasha Wimmer brilliantly brings the author’s playfulness and idiomatic humour to life for an English-language readership. The result is a triumph of solemnity-busting erudition and mischievous invention that will delight and titillate.”
— Financial Times
"[S]hort, strange, spiky and sublime. It’s a historical novel, a great speckled bird of a story, set in 1519 in what is now Mexico City. Empires are in collision and the vibe is hallucinatory.... Enrigue, who is clearly a major talent, has delivered a humane comedy of manners that is largely about paranoia (is today the day my head will be lopped off?) and the quotidian bummers of life, even if you are powerful beyond belief."
— Dwight Garner, New York Times
"An alternate history of Mexican conquest, with a Tarantino-ready twist.... Deliciously gonzo.... Rendered in earthy, demotic, wryly unhistorical English by translator Natasha Wimmer... Enrigue’s antic style is high-minded, richly detailed, vulgar and sophisticated all at once — reminiscent of the films of Peter Greenaway or Derek Jarman."
— Washington Post
"[A] story built on what-ifs.... In his hallucinatory prose, anything could happen."
— Los Angeles Review of Books
"Enrigue proves supremely capable of subverting in service to the story about colonization and societal power.”
— Chicago Review of Books
“Throughout the book, Enrigue (and in English his excellent translator, Natasha Wimmer) boldly uses modern language to recreate the past.... Parts of the novel play like an Aztec West Wing, taking us deep into the political manoeuvrings of the royal court but blending its particularities with 21st-century psychology. It’s a rich approach that achieves a hallucinatory vividness.”
—The Guardian (UK)
“Enrigue sustains a seductive yet ominous tone that evokes a persistent threat of violence, and he caps things off with a dizzying climactic scene that offers an alternative to the historical record and dovetails with the book’s heavy dose of hallucinogens. Flexing his narrative muscle, Enrigue brings the past to vivid, brain-melting life.” —Publishers Weekly
“The irony and wit Enrigue brings to the story is entirely his own. An offbeat, well-turned riff on anti-colonialist themes.” —Kirkus Reviews
Library Journal
★ 01/01/2024
Inspired by the work of Jorge Luis Borges, Mexican novelist Enrigue (Sudden Death) writes a fantastical spin on the history of the famous Aztec leader Moctezuma II and his fateful meeting with the Spaniard Hernán Cortés in 1519. Moctezuma is 55 years old and moody and does not like to be seen outside of the palace. He depends on the hallucinogenic properties of plants to get through the day. Once the fierce military leader who won his first war at the age of 14, Moctezuma now likens his leadership role to head priest of a cult. Cortés and his entourage are allowed into the city of Tenochtitlan and ushered past the gates into the labyrinth of the palace, where they wait—and wonder. Details of human sacrifice, the Aztec penchant for dismembering enemies, and making wind chimes of skulls and skeletal remains are well described in realistic terms. The human chimes were made to scare rivals and deter warring factions and were mostly successful, until the Aztecs encountered the invading Cortés. VERDICT In Enrigue's well-researched novel, a segment of Aztec history comes to life, with the author's own twist.—Lisa Rohrbaugh
Kirkus Reviews
2023-09-26
A vision of the Aztec empire on the verge of conquest.
In 1520, Spanish conquistadors led by Hernán Cortés began to wrest control of Tenochtitlan (in what is now Mexico City) from the Aztecs. But in November 1519, when Enrigue’s arch historical novel is set, the two cultures were play-acting at diplomacy. The Aztecs are baffled by the Spaniards’ horses, the proclamations of their King Charles I, and tales of Christianity. The conquistadores, meanwhile, find the food repulsive, the long waits frustrating, and are troubled by a citadel decorated with thousands of skulls. In the run-up to the inevitable horrors to come, Enrigue focuses on one junior representative from each side: Jazmín Caldera, an investor in Cortés’ expedition, and Atotoxtli, the sister and (figurehead) wife of Moctezuma, the Aztec emperor whose alliances are crumbling and who is prone to retreat into a druggy, sleepy haze. Moctezuma is mercurial, prone to calling for the execution of assistants at the smallest slights, but the Spaniards aren’t much better, slavers biding their time. Enrigue’s tone (nicely conveyed via Wimmer’s translation) is of ironic disbelief—the fate of two global cultures turns on the narcissistic preening of these two tribes? (“If there’s anything Spaniards and Mexicans have always agreed upon, it’s that nobody is less qualified to govern than the government itself,” Enrigue quips.) Little has changed, Enrigue means to say, at certain moments pushing the story out of strict historical fiction, at one point suggesting that a foreboding sound echoes a T. Rex song, or crafting an ahistorical dream sequence in which history turns the Aztecs’ way. In the acknowledgments, Enrigue cites Borges as a key inspiration, and the novel certainly shares an affinity for dark humor, metanarrative, and detail about history, real and imagined. But the irony and wit Enrigue brings to the story is entirely his own.
An offbeat, well-turned riff on anti-colonialist themes.
