The Jaguar's Children

The Jaguar's Children

Book - 2015
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The water truck, sealed to hide its human cargo, has broken down. The coyotes have taken all the passengers' money for a mechanic and have not returned. Those left behind have no choice but to wait. Héctor finds a name in his friend César's phone. AnniMac. A name with an American number. He must reach her, both for rescue and to pass along the message César has come so far to deliver. But are his messages going through?
"Hector is trapped. The water truck, sealed to hide its human cargo, has broken down. The coyotes have taken all the passengers' money for a mechanic and have not returned ..."--Inside front cover.
Publisher: Boston : Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2015
ISBN: 9780544315495
Branch Call Number: FICTION VAILLANT 2015
Characteristics: 280 pages ; 24 cm


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Jul 30, 2015

A compelling, riveting read packed with social commentary. Like the narrator himself, readers won't know how (or if) Hector's plight is resolved until the very end.

Jul 20, 2015

Easy to read popular fiction. The author spent one year living in Oaxaca. The story is contrived, melodramatic, and dominated by male characters. (I have been visiting Oaxaca for 30 years and enjoyed reading about some of the place names, but repeat visitors will gain little or no insight from this novel.)

patcumming Jun 19, 2015

A suspenseful and harrowing story that highlights the plight of Mexican migrants. Well told but the political statements overshadow the story at times.

Feb 02, 2015

A riveting read. As Hector waits for a rescue he reflects on his life in Mexico, what brought him to this point and shares all the wisdom and history his beloved grandfather imparted to him. Will he be saved or not - we don't know until the story's end. A more fictionalized style than his last book. Enjoyed this book.


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Jun 25, 2015

All my life it was my abuelo who danced the jaguar to the music of the flute and drum through the smoke of copal burning, but when I was young I didn't know it was him, only that you never found the two of them together. No one saw him put it on - not the mask he carved himself or the suit of spots Abuela made. Some said he got the paint from the men who made the highway - black and yellow for the skin, red and white for the tongue and teeth, his own hair for the whiskers. I still don't know where he found the eyes and he could never tell. When I was older I understood that they were made of mirror glass and when he came close - close enough to bite - it wasn't only his eyes staring at you but your eyes also. For a moment you were the jaguar too.


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