The Queen of the South (Perez-Reverte, Arturo) (Hardcover)

However, unlike most gutter to penthouse tales, Theresa is not a character who always had large dreams and wanted to be "king of the world". Rather, her story shows her to be an emotionally dead soul who does whatever it takes to survive in the harsh environment she inhabits. While this is a nice change of pace from the usual Scarface hysterics, her cool reserve also means that there's no way for the reader to connect with her (unless you, too, have been on the run from hitmen). Which is not to say that she isn't believable, it's just that she's a character with a single motivation, survival, and this one track detachment gets kind of lame as she grows more and more powerful. While one can sympathize with her plight, she's not particularly sympathetic or unsympathetic--she's simply...present. Not that Perez-Reverte doesn't gamely try to make her sympathetic by showing her grant mercy more than once, and exhibit rather foolish loyalty, as well as refusing to transport heroin (since it's socially destructive, as opposed to hash and cocaine!), but this is all rather disingenuous. And contrary to what some reviewers have written, he definitely does play up her past: her dirt-poor childhood and alcoholic mother are alluded to more than once, as is her sexual abuse as a small girl. But none of this is really enough to make the reader care about a character who spends the entire story not understanding her own choices.

The book is at its best when it wallows in the details of the international drug trade, all the intricacies and logistics of getting drug A to point B--small planes, speedboats, customs helicopters, dummy ships--it all reeks of heavy research. And at the heart of it all is epic corruption on all sides. The various locales are also well rendered, from the Mexican state capital of Culiacan to the sleazy ports of Spain and Morocco, and finally the gleaming high life of Marbella. The supporting cast of characters is quite good, from Theresa's various boyfriends, to her stoic bodyguard, and the amiable Russian gangster who acts as mentor. But as in the movies, it's never a good thing when the bit players have more personality than the lead. Stylistically, Perez-Reverte does try a few tricks, such as weaving "The Count of Monte Cristo" into the plot, and making Mexican narcocorridos a recurring (and tiresome) element. (Those interested in narcocorridos should check out Elijah Wald's aptly titled book Narcocorridos.) So, there's a lot to like in the book, however the central character and storyline are flat and lifeless.

The story begins in Mexico when Teresa is twenty-three. Uneducated but attractive, she is in love with Guero Davila, a Chicano pilot involved in shipping coca. When she suddenly receives a phone call telling her to run for her life, she does so, escaping through Mexico City into Spain, and then Morocco. Putting her knowledge of drug transportation to work by involving herself in hash-running between Morocco and Spain, she ends up with a short jail sentence but an important friendship with another inmate, Patty O'Farrell, the rebellious daughter of a wealthy Spanish family. When they are released, they set up a big-time drug trafficking business, with Teresa running the show and becoming, eventually, the person with whom everyone in the business must deal.

Teresa's story is not told in linear fashion. An unnamed speaker/narrator, presumably Perez-Reverte himself, has come to Sinaloa to investigate and describe Teresa Mendoza's life and business. Interviewing everyone with any information, he inserts himself and his interviews into the narrative. Soon the line begins to blur between fiction and fact, since some of the people he interviews, such as the three people to whom he dedicates the novel, are, in fact, real people who are included as characters in the novel. These add depth and a fine sense of realism to the novel.

Although Teresa Mendoza is not a character with whom the reader will identify, the author develops a certain amount of sympathy for her. Teresa is an entrepreneur of great intelligence, and this, combined with her ability to avoid creating any sort of trail that will implicate her legally, keeps her going in her dog-eat-dog world. The novel is episodic but fast paced, despite the sometimes unwelcome intrusions of the narrator/speaker, and Perez-Reverte succeeds in presenting a broad, intriguing picture of the business of drug smuggling and those who make it their careers. Mary Whipple