Marvelous ... Grim prognoses aside, Flores’s novel is an absolute blast to read. Its madcap, carnivalesque backdrop is rendered in psychedelic polychromatics: onyx smokestacks, bright green warehouse walls, purple smog, yellow clouds ... Flores’s style has an exhilarating punk, D.I.Y. aplomb; it’s as if he feels he’s inventing literature for the first time here ... Like that mythical sub sandwich with literally everything on it.
Flores structures Brother Brontë like a web, its pathways sticky and stretched and gradually merging into one another. This results in a chaotic first act that is then mined for meaning in its successors ... Flores presents us with a new Wild West of the near-future, one rooted in the conditions of now.
Flores’s fiction possesses the aspect of a dream. In the imaginative geography of the novel, the border region becomes not one but many overlapping environments, in which a variety of meanings accrue ... Flores moves fluidly among narrative threads and points of view, orchestrating a chorus of characters and voices ... These shifting perspectives reinforce the notion of the border as a landscape marked by many lives and stories, rather than a monolith.
