The cruel killing of a former curandera (healer) instigates a potent and intriguing exchange between the curandera's protégé and a journalist who seeks understanding in Witches, the second of Mexican author Brenda Lozano's novels (after Loop) translated from the Spanish. Feliciana, grieving her murdered cousin, Paloma, details how both of them came to understand their gift for "the Language," the spiritual backbone of their healing ceremonies guided by psychedelic mushrooms. Paloma, whose queer identity is written with tenderness, was no longer practicing this craft when she died, because she chose men over mushrooms, but her light shines throughout the novel: "the sugar I carry in my blood to sweeten this sour world, I made that from my own cane, darling."
Meanwhile, Feliciana's narrative prompts Zoe, in alternating first-person chapters, to expound on her path toward journalism. The women's stories dovetail, with echoing experiences of sisterhood, motherhood, purpose and gendered violence. These elegant streams of consciousness ripple with tantalizing figurative language, eddying together as they flow into one refreshing river of a novel.
Translator Heather Cleary begins the book with a compelling note on terms she chose to keep in their original language, highlighting distinct ways that curandera and bruja and witch don't easily overlap. "I am not a witch..." Feliciana goes on to explain, "the herbs and the mushrooms give me great powers for reflection... reflection is how we heal ourselves and how we can fix any problem or heartbreak." And it is heartbreak that this novel seeks to guide readers beyond, becoming itself a healing, meditative space to confront the cruelties of the world. --Dave Wheeler, associate editor, Shelf Awareness