Fury
In a desert dotted with war-torn towns, Lázaro and Juan are two soldiers from opposing camps who abandon the war and, while fleeing, become lovers and discover a dark truth. Vicente Barrera, a salesman who swept into the lives of women who both hated and revered him, spends his last days tied up like a mad dog. A morgue worker, Salvador, gets lost in the desert and mistakes the cactus for the person he loves. Over the echoes of the stories of these broken men—and of their mothers, lovers and companions—Mendoza explores her characters’ passions in a way that simmers on the page, and then explodes with pain, fear and desire in a landscape that imprisons them.
“Fury has the poetic and wild force of the desert. In its pages there is tenderness, fear and forceful, rhythmic writing with images that are difficult to forget. It is about the violence of desire that turns us into dogs that drool, howl and bite, but also about love in the midst of hostility and helplessness. This is why it is a disturbing and, at the same time, deeply moving novel.”
—Mónica Ojeda
“I loved the churning gyre of Fury, an enigmatic and audacious novel that proves the truest stories aren't told, they're repeated.”
—Catherine Lacey, author of Biography of X
"An amazing, hypnotic and beautiful novel, like contemplating the desert."
—Juan Pablo Villalobos
"Leavened by a wonderful imagistic sensibility . . . impressive.”
—Pablo Scheffer, Telegraph
“There is something timeless about Clyo Mendoza’s Fury. It has the music of Scheherazade’s stories, and it tells of an ageless desert and an ageless violence that gives birth to itself with every new generation. It touched upon an open wound in Mexico, and I’m sure that readers everywhere will be enthralled by its power.”
—Jazmina Barrera, author of Linea Nigra and On Lighthouses
“By tracing the genealogical tree that intertwines the fates of Juan and Lázaro, eternal soldiers in a phantasmagoric limbo of the Mexican Revolution, and a handful of women, whose bodies and loves mutate though they remain as powerful as vengeance, Clyo Mendoza introduces us to dozens of stories of sex, hatred, abandonment, and magic, narrated and deformed by the potent oral traditions that influence the language she conjures to render the ghosts real; it is the hallucinatory and brutal language of the desert.”
—Dolores Reyes, author of Eartheater
“A whirlwind of a novel that sucks the reader in from the opening lines”
—Latin American Literature Today
“I kept thinking of Kathy Acker as I read Clyo Mendoza's brilliant fever dream of a novel, Fury, but also of Juan Rulfo and Alejandro Jodorowsky. It's weird, gorgeous, shocking and gentle, more or less all at once, and Christina MacSweeney's translation brings it burning across into English with tremendous aplomb.”
—Laird Hunt, author of Zorrie