PAGES OF MOURNING

An alcoholic writer who recently returned to Mexico City grapples with despair in the wake of loss.

Skipping along on many of the same thematic touchstones as Morrison’s debut novel, Myth of Pterygium (2022), this follow-up marinates in its literary navel-gazing while simultaneously amplifying its pedestrian horrors. This weird dissonance can distract from the genuinely moving human suffering. Our narrator (mostly) is Aureliano Más, a 30-something writing student who has come back from New York City at the behest of his Aunt Rose, an influential novelist who has used her influence to secure him a writing fellowship and a mentor. When we meet him, he’s daydreaming about day drinking with his writing pal Chris at their old Brooklyn watering hole, but reality soon sinks in. There are reasons behind Aureliano’s misery, but they’re doled out in such fragments and delivered with such emotional gravitas that their actual impact on the page seems diminished. He claims a deep desire to write the novel that obliterates magical realism from the Mexican canon, but the defining fact of Aureliano’s life is his deepening alcoholism. There’s some humor here—Chris’s cleareyed dissections of his output being one, while Aureliano’s award is named the Under the Volcano Fellowship, nodding to Malcolm Lowry’s mezcal-soaked tragedy. Mostly it comes from a place of terrible pain, though, as Aureliano tries to reconcile the absence of his mother, long since disappeared, with literary balms. Between blackouts, we also get a large chunk of Rose’s failed novel about her early life with Aureliano’s mother, an unapologetic confession from his father, and the prototypical absence of resolution. One might think that sudden violence, two earthquakes, and the ravages of drink would breathe some much-needed life into the tale, but alas, no. We leave our man in much the same place we found him—searching for answers that never come.

A bleary-eyed ramble through generational grief, inherited hurt, and the collateral damage that nobody expects.