The Saint of Santa Fe: Two Reviews Revisited

I have a confession to make. Because I was so engrossed in finishing The Season of Stories, I couldn’t give the release of The Saint of Santa Fe the sendoff it deserved. Regardless, I'm proud of this novel about the life and death of Father Héctor Gallego and I invite readers who’ve enjoyed my other novels to explore this story, as it is close to my heart.

Moreover, to those who’ve already read The Saint of Santa Fe, I beg a favor: please write a review on Amazon. In spite of whatever our feelings are about this massive retailer, the written opinions of readers carry a lot of weight with potential purchasers. Writers depend on your voices too.

Just a few words will suffice. Those of you who respond to this call will have my eternal gratitude.

Also, if you live in Nicaragua, don’t forget that I will be there starting this Saturday. You’ll be able to purchase a copy that I will be thrilled to autograph.

See my blogpost Another Nicaraguan Book Tour for details about my personal appearances.

Now, as an appetizer for you to invest in The Saint of Santa Fe, I will share excerpts from two online reviews.

In January, Eric Jackson of The Panama News expressed these thoughts about The Saint of Santa Fe:

.... Sirias’s portrayal of General Omar Torrijos, however, is bound to raise more hackles. It’s well documented that Torrijos was an alcoholic, but in many circles it’s not considered polite to mention it as this book does (without actually naming the disease). There are plenty of Panamanians who view the dictatorship as the worst thing that ever happened to Panama and Torrijos as something approaching the devil incarnate, but Sirias portrays him as someone more subtle and complex than that. The conflict that plays out in the novel is between a military commander and a priest who both in their own ways would be the liberators of the rural poor, the general in his top-down paternalistic way, the cleric by way of a participatory grass roots democracy.

So, does Silvio Sirias “solve the crime?” Not long after the US invasion that toppled the dictatorship, four men were accused and three convicted in connection with the disappearance of Héctor Gallego. All have maintained silence about what happened to the man, and who gave the order to make that happen. In the public record, those questions remain unanswered. The Saint of Santa Fe, however, is far more assertive about the nature of the man, the situation in which he labored and the passions that he aroused. Yes, it’s a book about this diminutive but extraordinary young priest. But it’s probably more important as a book about who Panamanians are and what we can be.

You can read the entire review in The Panama News.

LatinoStories.com
The Credible Source 
For Latino Literature, Latino Film, & Latino Studies

More recently, Jose B. Gonzalez of LatinoStories.com wrote the following review:

The Saint of Santa Fe by Silvio Sirias is the compelling story of a young priest who has faith in humanity in the early 1970s—at a time when not all of humanity believes in equality and justice.  Readers of this novel might be reminded of Archbishop Romero, whose life was captured in the classic film, Romero, featuring the talented actor, Raul Julia.  However, this novel’s portrayal of Father Hector Gallego is just as much about a priest serving his parish against insurmountable odds in Panama, as it is about the lethal and institutional power of political figures and the dangerous interest groups.

The portrayal of Father Gallego is inspiring without being overly sentimentalized.  And that is in part because as one reads this work, one can’t help but feel that the author has done extensive research.  That is the mark of a powerful novel that is inspired by true events. Not surprisingly, as Sirias explains in his postscript, he conducted extensive interviews and read several publications to compose this emotionally affective work.

As we learn in The Saint of Santa Fe, Father Gallego was responsible for empowering the disenfranchised to the point where they were perceived as threats to those in power. Those who are looking for a Hollywood plot will not find it here. Instead they will be left with what the real-life disappearance provided—an urging for more questions. That honest approach to this novel is another reason why Sirias is able to convincingly capture our imagination.  Sometimes chapters in Latin American history are rife with mysteries, and the author’s tone and style provide a captivating look at one of the darkest and tragic mysteries in Panama’s history.

You can read Jose B. Gonzalez’s at Latino Stories.

And, please remember, your contribution of a review of The Saint of Santa Fe—or any other of my books, for that matter—will be appreciated.