Many years ago I listened to this song. While it’s about fishermen reading T. C Boyle’s The Tortilla Curtain reminded me of it. Poverty and hardship.

I also reflected this morning as I drove to work about residents associations, one of which I belong to. And how I was told that I cared only for trees and not people.

I fervently hoped that we were not like the residents in Boyle’s book but that we had a little more compassion. But this might not be so.

Like many of his books there are parallel stories: Delaney and Candido. The liberal but easily persuaded resident and Candido the good-hearted but ill-fated Mexican non-resident. There is the harshness of the Los Angeles countryside (some memories like the trip to Pasadena for me). The difficulty of living in your own world.

This blog helpfully illustrates the area: And this is helpful :

Irony: the place names are Mexican/Spanish. Arroya Blanco is true irony. Delaney can only essay French. A wall to keep them out. A wall to imprison them. Hard luck. And the end. Ah the ending.

The book also reminded what a harsh and violent place America seemed to be.


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