One morning in 1519, conquistador Hernán Cortés entered the city of Tenochtitlan - today's Mexico City. Later that day, he would meet the emperor Moctezuma in a collision of two worlds, two empires, two languages, two possible futures. Cortés was accompanied by his nine captains, his troops, and his two translators: Friar Aguilar, a taciturn, former slave, and Malinalli, a strategic, former princess. Greeted at a ceremonial welcome meal by the steely princess Atotoxli, sister and wife of Moctezuma, the Spanish nearly bungle their entrance to the city. As they await their meeting with Moctezuma - who is at a political, spiritual, and physical crossroads, and relies on hallucinogens to get himself through the day and in quest for any kind of answer from the gods - the Spanish are ensconced in the labyrinthine palace. Soon, one of Cortés's captains, Jazmín Caldera, overwhelmed by the grandeur of the city, begins to question the ease with which they were welcomed into the city, and wonders at the risks of getting out alive, much less conquering the empire.
Not wet but dry. It is also short, 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 wears his influences on his sleeve.
In Enrigue's skillful hands, the culmination of political maneuvering almost too intricate to follow ... Full of pettiness and intrigue, its characters scrambling for power on all levels. It's got glorious, but never self-serious ... A colossal achievement.
Sublime absurdities that abound in this delirious historical fantasia, which can be said to be many things: funny, ghastly, eye-opening, marvelous and frequently confounding. Mr. Enrigue’s novel—steeped in research but wildly fictionalized—encompasses roughly a single day in this clash of civilizations, beginning after Cortés and his men have been installed in the royal palace and, oddly, left alone to explore the premises ... Hallucinatory.
