Distant Palaces: a Novel

November 24, 2003
Less ambitious than his well-received Thine Is the Kingdom
, this new novel by leading Cuban prose stylist Estevez features glorious description but little story. Victorio is a middle-aged gay man living in a tiny apartment in one of Havana's many crumbling mansions. When the mansion is scheduled for demolition, Victorio is homeless, cast adrift. Broke, heartbroken, he wanders through Havana's streets, living on handouts and encountering other odd, penniless characters. He's looking for something, but what? At best, this can be defined as companionship, or even the memory of Cuba's former glory, which haunts Victorio as he encounters each destroyed facade and empty building. Estevez writes with the soul of a set designer, placing Victorio in a series of decayed "palaces"—a mental asylum, a prostitute's apartment, even a theater—that serve as both backdrop and metaphor for Havana's ruined beauty. Despite Victorio's presence, Havana is the book's real subject, giving Estevez the opportunity to annotate the city's likes, dislikes, desires, fears, and real and perceived role in history. In his hands, Havana takes on a looming, forceful, erotic personality ("There is no other city where you can see so many bodies through the windows. Men and women loll about naked, voluptuous, in front of windows thrown wide open"). Victorio is mostly a man to be pitied, and those looking for a compelling plot will be disappointed, but Havana's rage at its own neglect gives the book a unique energy. Frye ably renders the rich, ornate phrasings ("The soup tastes good indeed, like something cooked in an old convent") found throughout.

February 15, 2004
Estevez's second novel (after Thine Is the Kingdom) is a consummate affirmation of life amidst the squalor of Havana, with prose as lush as the Caribbean setting it describes. On the eve of the 21st century, a middle-aged gay man named Victorio becomes homeless when the manor in which he rents an apartment is demolished. Wandering the streets, he encounters Salma, a young female prostitute, and Don Fuco, an older man trained as an acrobatic clown. The three move into a rundown theater and find solace with one another, especially while entertaining Havana's downtrodden with their clown act. Even when they must return to the harsh streets, Victorio and Salma find the strength and courage to endure. Estevez's experience as a playwright (Night) is keenly evident in this novel's theatrical spirit. He enriches his novel further by drawing allusions, metaphors, and images from the literature and history of Cuba. Highly recommended for all fiction collections.-Faye A. Chadwell, Univ. of Oregon Libs., Eugene

Copyright 2004 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

November 15, 2003
In Havana in 2000, 46-year-old Victorio has yet to find his "palace," the place he is meant to be. Even worse, the building he lives in is set to be demolished. Alone and unloved, he takes to the streets and discovers that although Havana is not kind to the needy, some of its citizens are. Among them are Salma, a young prostitute who gives him soup, and Don Fuco, an aged clown, who takes Victorio to his dilapidated theater, full of costumes, marionettes, and the memory of applause. Victorio and Salma (on the run from her pimp and lover) become Don Fuco's pupils, seeking to alleviate unhappiness with street performances. Havana is as much a presence as any character here, with its enervating heat, black nights, collapsing buildings, and history that "has eliminated pleasures of every sort." In lyrical language and with vivid imagery, Estevez makes a case for art as a means to help not only its citizens but Havana itself.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2003, American Library Association.)