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Señales que precederán al fin del mundo
Señales que precederán al fin del mundo
Señales que precederán al fin del mundo
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Señales que precederán al fin del mundo

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Señales que precederán al fin del mundo es, sin duda, una de las novelas más singulares de entre todas las que se han escrito en español en este cambio de siglo. Y también una de las más bellas y precisas.
Como ya sucedía en su anterior novela: Trabajos del reino, Yuri Herrera no escribe "simplemente" sobre México y la frontera, sino que crea su México a través de historias y leyendas del pasado y del presente. Y traza con exactitud el mapa de un territorio que es aún más gigantesco, hecho tanto de lo que está sobre la tierra y en lo real como de lo que está bajo ella y pertenece a lo mitológico, a las culturas precolombinas. Quien recorre ese territorio a través de las nueve etapas de los mitos, es Makina, un personaje sin parangón en la literatura actual de tan real como parece, a pesar de vivir en un mundo que es quizá el inframundo. Basta leer dos páginas, una, de este libro, y no hará falta más: ya no podrá escapar ningún lector de esta historia fabulosa que narra mucho más que el viaje de Marina en busca de su hermano.
 
"La segunda novela de este narrador mexicano lo confirma como escritor que sabe urdir una trama intensa y manejar un lenguaje original, tan capaz de revelar una realidad social miserable y angustiosa como de elevar poéticamente lo humilde y cotidiano hasta alcanzar proporciones simbólicas."
Arturo García Ramos, ABC
LanguageEspañol
Release dateApr 7, 2020
ISBN9788418264412
Señales que precederán al fin del mundo

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Rating: 3.953846258461538 out of 5 stars
4/5

195 ratings16 reviews

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I liked it well enough while I was reading it (and was in for a big surprise when it ended much sooner than I anticipated...O, Kindle reading), but I really appreciated the translator's discussion of the process. Great border book!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was a beautiful translation of what I can only assume must be a beautiful novel. I enjoyed the freshness of the language, the care and love evident throughout the sentences, and the heart of the characters. I hope to read it again soon.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A brief foray.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    An excellent if challenging book that begs to be discussed in a group. Some images are clear, others are ambiguous (as are many things in life). Great book to read; likely even better to discuss
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A fabulous read. Great story, brilliantly translated.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The streetwise Makina has been asked by her mother to cross the porous Mexican border into the States, and to find and bring back her brother. He has been lured there by a long absent father and the hopes that America offers. Up until now she has been the local switchboard operator on the only local phone for mile, and speaks Amerindian, Spanish and English, the conduit between those still there and those that have left. Now she is a messenger again, carrying a plea from her mother and a suspicious package from a member of the criminal underworld.

    It is an event-laden trip, as she copes with thugs and harassment, fording rivers and border police. But it is a journey of discovery too as she sees the abundance of things in America as she seeks her brother.

    It is a short book, espresso like in its intensity. Dramatic too, as Makina crosses the border illegally moving from place to place one step ahead of the law, and is disorientated by the changes. Good translation as well, as they have picked up the quality and brevity of the prose in the original text.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I enjoyed this book, and will probably read it again. It is deeper than its short length would suggest. I'll probably increase my rating when I have read it again and really thought about it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was a fascinating book, made up of 9 short chapters describing an illegal crossing of the Mexico-US border and a search for a relative already living in the US, but really much more than that.I read it directly after Juan Rulfo’s Pedro Paramo, the great Mexican ur-Novel, and it bears the comparison well.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A short but powerful and poetic novella. The story tells of a young Mexican woman Makina, who travels across the border illegally in search of her brother. In order to do this she has to deal with various criminal gangs. This is just the start, and she meets a number of challenges, and remains a feisty but sympathetic heroine. As such she represents various universal truths of the migrant experience and exposes the hypocrisy of the hosts who denigrate and harass them while benefiting from their labour.The book must have been a difficult challenge for the translator, so much so that she felt she had to explain some of her decisions in an afterword. In particular Herrera uses a mixture of slang and allusive poetic descriptions, and uses certain words in strange ways. In order to replicate this, the words used in the translation often seem very strange, particularly to a non-American ear, but the overall effect is powerful and the ending is moving.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A very short novel -- possibly actually a novella -- from Mexico, about a young woman who illegally crosses the border into the United States to search for her brother.It's an odd, odd book, and I doubt I understood it entirely or remotely got everything out of it that might have been there to get. But it's weirdly compelling, dark and dreamlike with strange poetic writing that really pulls you along (even if there are one or two particular linguistic quirks that I think probably didn't translate all that well from the Spanish). It's the sort of writing that I suspect would, for all its skill, have gotten tiring if it had gone on much longer, but for something this short, it worked extremely well.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Dreamy and hallucinatory, small and perfectly formed. In 106 pages, and 9 chapters Makina descends into either hell or at least some sort of alien underworld. Ostensibly leaving her village to cross the border to search for her lost brother, her journey becomes wider and more revelatory as each chapter milestone is crossed and as each new guide appears, to take her on the next phase of her journey. In some ways reminiscent of Ishiguro's The Unconsoled (but thankfully a lot easier to read) there is some very profound and beautiful writing (even in translation). I liked this passage in particular (Makina observes some same sex weddings) "Makina had admired the nerve of her friends who were that way inclined, compared to the tedious smugness of so-called normal marriages; she'd conveyed secret messages, lent her home for the loving that could not speak its name, lent her clothing for liberation parades. She'd witnessed other ways to love.....and now they were acting just the same. She felt slightly let down, but then said to herself what did she know? It must be, she thought, that they know other marriages, good ones, where people don't split up, where fathers don't leave, and they keep speaking to the other. That must be why they are so happy, and don't mind imitating people who've always despised them. Or maybe they just want the papers, and kind of papers, she said to herself, even if its only to fit in, maybe being different gets old after a while".Just so. A wonderful book that will stay with you for a while
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is a rather short novel about a Mexican girl crossing the Mexico/US border illegally to find her brother and bring him back home. However, this summary doesn't do justice to the novel. There is a lot more to it, on deeper levels. To me, the story read like a poem. It was very much about atmosphere and imagination, as in a dream. Very beautiful.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was remarkable.It’s a story of a young woman crossing from Mexico to find her brother. That’s all you need to or should know about the plot. Beyond that I struggle to figure out what to say because it seemed more like feeling the book than reading it. Some words that I can’t quite form into linear thoughts/sentences: borders both literal and metaphoric; vernacular yet neologism; Dantean/Orphean myth; outside-looking-into-U.S.; nativism; magical realism but really???; feminist; imagery; the person who starts a journey isn’t the one who finishes it; enigmatic; two sentences and you know who that person is; mocking; fecund…That’s a lot for one hundred and twenty-something pages.If this isn’t one of my best reads of the year then, well, it’s going to be a very good year of reading!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This a book that is half poetry, half myth, and half prose - we have a girl, Makina, who sets out from her small Mexican village in search of her brother, who has been missing in America. This isn't a straight forward story - its told in terms of mythology and action happens in leaps and jumps. Its up to the reader to figure out what the metaphor is, what is happening.This is a story about illegal immigration - but its a story told from the point of view of the emigree. It doesn't follow the traditional narrative of those who illegally cross borders. Its not a book that is easy to read. It is short, but full of metaphors. I suspect it falls into that category of those who love and those who hate it. But give it a chance, and you will learn something new.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A modern re-telling of Orpheus where The US is Hades and the Rio Grande is the River Styx, separating the worlds of life and death. Beautiful and brutal.

    1 person found this helpful

  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Yuri Herrera wrote a novella. Lisa Dillman translated it. It's mystical. I'm not really into mystical prose, but this had a rhythm to it that was engaging. It's about a young woman who is sent by her mother from a Pueblo in the south of Mexico to look for her brother in El Norte. Friends of her mother have people ready to help her on the way, and across the border; nevertheless it's dangerous, cold and a journey that leaves her with bullet marks. Struggling to find the trail her brother has left behind, she uses her wits to evade the bigots and cops who lay in wait.

    The translator did a job that few could have done. Because of the way it's written, lyrically, mystically, the translator had to try to get those idea across in a language that is anything but mystical and Lyrical.

    P.92
    Last night I will go to the bar they will tell us about, he said in Anglo.
    Oh, yeah? How was it, angloed her brother in return.
    there will be many women, they will be so pretty, and they will all like the uniform.
    Is that so? You speak to any?
    Yes, I will speak, I will speak all night, she will give me her number, I will kiss her a little.
    First base, huh? Good for you!
    I will get very drunk after that. She will go but she will promise that we will see each other again.
    Makina's brother laughed and slapped the guy's back, and he carried on his way to the barracks gate.
    What was that about? Asked makina.
    He's home grown, he said. Joined up just like me, but still doesn't speak the lingo. Whereas me, I learned it, so every time we see each other he wants to practice. He speaks on one day in past tense, all one day in present, all one day in future, so he can learn his verbs. Today was the future.

    Makina writes words that so bewilder and mystify a cop, that he lets her and the group of "homegrowns" that he has lined up on their knees, hands behind their heads, go:
    P.99
    "we are to blame for this destruction, we who don't speak your tongue and don't know how to keep quiet either. We who didn't come by boat, who dirty up your doorsteps with our dust, who break your barbed wire. We who came to take your jobs, who dream of wiping your s***, who long to work all hours. We who fill your shiny clean streets with the smell of food, who brought you violence you'd never known, who deliver your dope, who deserve to be chained by neck and feet. We who are happy to die for you, what else could we do? We, the ones who are waiting for who knows what. We, the dark, the short, the greasy, the shifty, the fat, the anemic. We The barbarians."

Book preview

Señales que precederán al fin del mundo - Yuri Herrera

1

LA TIERRA

Estoy muerta, se dijo Makina cuando todas las cosas respingaron: un hombre cruzaba la calle a bastón, de súbito un quejido seco atravesó el asfalto, el hombre se quedó como a la espera de que le repitieran la pregunta y el suelo se abrió bajo sus pies: se tragó al hombre, y con él un auto y un perro, todo el oxígeno a su alrededor y hasta los gritos de los transeúntes. Estoy muerta, se dijo Makina, y apenas lo había dicho su cuerpo entero comenzó a resistir la sentencia y batió los pies desesperadamente hacia atrás, cada paso a un pie del deslave, hasta que el precipicio se definió en un círculo de perfección y Makina quedó a salvo.

Pinche ciudad ladina, se dijo, Siempre a punto de reinstalarse en el sótano.

Era la primera vez que le tocaba locura telúrica. La Ciudadcita estaba cosida a tiros y túneles horadados por cinco siglos de voracidad platera y a veces algún infeliz descubría por las malas lo a lo pendejo que habían sido cubiertos. Algunas casas ya se habían mandado a mudar al inframundo, y una cancha de fut, y media escuela vacía. Esas cosas siempre les suceden a los demás, hasta que le suceden a uno, se dijo. Echó una ojeada al precipicio, empatizó con el infeliz camino de la chingada, Buen camino, dijo sin ironía, y luego musitó: Mejor me apuro a cumplir este encargo.


Su madre la Cora la había llamado y le había dicho Vaya, lleve este papel a su hermano, no me gusta mandarla, muchacha, pero a quién se lo voy a confiar ¿a un hombre? Luego la abrazó y la tuvo ahí, en su regazo, sin dramatismo ni lágrimas, nomás porque eso es lo que hacía la Cora: aunque uno estuviera a dos pasos de ella era siempre como estar en su regazo, entre sus tetas morenas, a la sombra de su cuello ancho y gordo, bastaba que a uno le dirigiera la palabra para sentirse guarecido. Y le había dicho Vaya a la Ciudadcita, acérquese a los duros, ofrézcales servirles, yái que le echen la mano con el viaje.


No tenía ninguna razón para ir primero donde el señor Dobleú, pero un apuro de agua la condujo al vapor donde aquél se mantenía. Sentía la tierra hasta debajo de las uñas como si ella se hubiera ido por el hoyo.

El cobrador era un muchacho sanguíneo y orgulloso con quien Makina la había desgranado en una ocasión. Había sucedido de la manera torpe en que esas cosas suelen suceder; pero como los hombres, todos, están convencidos de que son buenísimos para ese brincoteo, y como había sido claro que con ella había brincado chueco, desde entonces el muchacho le bajaba los ojos cada que se la encontraba. Makina caminó despacito frente a él y él asomó de su caseta de cobranza como para decirle No, no se puede, o más bien Usté no, usté no puede: con un ímpetu que le duró tres segundos porque ella no se detuvo y él no atinó a decirle ninguna de esas cosas y sólo pudo levantar los ojos con autoridad cuando ella ya lo había pasado y se dirigía al turco.

El señor Dobleú era un espectáculo feliz de redondeces pálidas surcadas por venitas azules; el señor Dobleú se mantenía en la sala de calor húmedo. Las páginas del diario de la mañana estaban pegadas al azulejo y el señor Dobleú las iba pelando una a una conforme avanzaba en la lectura. Reparó en Makina sin sorpresa. Qué le hubo, dijo, ¿Una chelita? Juega, dijo Makina. El señor Dobleú sacó una cerveza de una cubeta con yelos a sus pies, la destapó con la mano y se la pasó. Se empinaron la botella, ambos, hasta el fondo como si fuera un concurso. Luego disfrutaron en silencio la escaramuza entre el agua de fuera y la de adentro.

Y cómo está la señora, preguntó el señor Dobleú.

Hacía mucho tiempo la Cora había auxiliado al señor Dobleú, Makina no sabía exactamente qué había sucedido, nomás que el señor Dobleú andaba huyendo en ese entonces y la Cora lo escondió mientras pasaba la tormenta. Desde aquello para él

lo que dijera la Cora iba a misa.

Está, nomás, ya sabe cómo dice ella.

El señor Dobleú asintió y luego añadió Makina: Me manda a hacerle un mandado, y señaló un punto cardinal.

¿Vas a cruzar?, preguntó el señor Dobleú. Makina hizo sí con la cabeza.

Está bueno, vete y yo mando un mensaje, ya que estés allá mi gente se encarga de pasarte.

¿Quién?

Él te reconoce.

Se quedaron en silencio otra vez. A Makina le pareció que podía escuchar toda el agua del cuerpo trepándole la piel de adentro hacia la superficie. Era agradable, y siempre disfrutaba los silencios con el señor Dobleú, desde que lo había conocido como un animal reseco y asustado al que le llevaba pulque y cecina en sus épocas de fuga. Pero tenía que irse, no sólo para ir a hacer lo que debía hacer, sino porque por más conchabados que estuvieran ella sabía que no podía meterse ahí; una cosa eran las excepciones

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