Bloomsbury
Review by Brian Tanguay
Is it inevitable that the sins of fathers be visited upon their sons? Perhaps not, but sons haunted by their fathers is one of the oldest and most durable stories, right up there with brothers locked in conflict by pride, envy or jealousy. The Oreamundo brothers, Seth and Osario, are trapped in this ancient dynamic, “fangs and claws, blood and all,” as John Manuel Arias writes in this sprawling tale of wealth, power, privilege and madness. The Oreamundo family is known in Costa Rica for their massive coffee plantation and political power; they believe it’s their destiny to rule, and this fixed idea is passed along from one generation to the next. Seth and Osario can no more avoid it than could their grandfather, Otilio. Otilio’s mother schooled him about his inescapable destiny: “Power does not come accidentally, my son.”
Seth is the apparent successor to his father, but when Osario is born the calculus immediately changes. The way his mother fawns over his new brother tells Seth that a shift has occurred and his position as heir usurped. In a rage he spits on his newborn brother, only to be struck in the face by his mother, her ring leaving a permanent physical scar and a lasting psychological resentment. Things do not improve thereafter. As the novel moves backwards and forwards in time and locale, shifting between Washington DC and Costa Rica, the rift between the brothers deepens and expands to their wives, sisters named Nieves and Isa. The Oreamundo family curse spreads like lava rolling downhill, in their father’s drunkenness and violence, his abrupt turn to God and the Old Testament, and in their mother’s hatred of Seth, her own child. Combustible domestic scenes twist love beyond recognition.
Eventually, the brothers face off professionally, Seth as the suave representative of the oil industry, and Osario as a passionate government minister charged with protecting the environment. They bring their ambitions and resentments to this head-on collision, a bareknuckle public political encounter that neither can win; there’s too much money at stake and other powerful forces in play. Betrayal. Conspiracy. Downfall. Exile. Seth will spend years plotting his brother’s death. Sins of the father, Cain and Abel, an eye for an eye, revenge measured in blood.
This impressive novel lingered in my mind for days after I finished it. It’s a large canvas, personal and political, family and nation, and superimposed over it all is the motif of the formidable American crocodile, a most unforgiving and efficient executioner. “As always,” writes Arias, “nature is the mother of cruel invention. In Costa Rica, the aggressiveness of the American crocodile eclipses that of all other nations in the Western Hemisphere.” Like those who lust after power, the crocodile is an insatiable predator that slides out of the darkness, silent and unseen until the moment it’s too late. Give the river due respect, and never swim at night.
