[In the following positive review of So Far from God, Carr argues that although Castillo's writing sounds forced at times, the novel itself is thoroughly enjoyable.]

In this amusing and often farcical tragicomedy, the central characters, Sofia and her four daughters, Esperanza (Hope), Fe (Faith), Caridad (Charity), and la Loca (the crazy one) suffer many “misfortunes” during their lives in the small town of Tome, New Mexico. The opening lines of the book are appropriately melodramatic:

La Loca was only three years old when she died. Her mother Sofi woke at twelve midnight to the howling and neighing of five dogs, six cats, and four horses, whose custom it was to go freely in and out of the house. Sofi got up and tiptoed out of her room. The animals were kicking and crying and running back and forth with their ears back and fur standing on end, but Sofi couldn't make out what their agitation was about.

The little girl was having convulsions and appears to die. However, at her funeral she comes to life; that is, she resurrects and mystically rises to the roof of the church, where she speaks to a crowd who drop to their knees. The unbeliever, of course, might prefer the author's additional explanation: When the anxious mother subsequently takes the child to an Albuquerque hospital, la Loca is diagnosed as a probable epileptic. One of her older sisters “highly suspected that such a thing as her little sister flying up to the church rooftop had never happened.” The miraculous resurrection, nonetheless, is a more appealing version to those who “came from all over the state in hopes of receiving her blessing or of her performing of [sic] some miracle for them.”

For the rest of her life, la Loca behaves in a peculiar fashion, repelled by human smell, averse to the physical closeness of anyone except her mother, possessed of a special affinity to animals, a child who becomes a woman without ever leaving the area surrounding her house. In a different milieu, she might have been called autistic—a psychological word devoid of the mythical connotations and extraordinary powers attributed to la Loca.

The lives and destinies of the other three daughters are as strange as that of their youngest sister. Nevertheless, Sofia faces her many tribulations with strength, patience, humor, ingenuity, and the wisdom her name implies. The story of this woman, her daughters, her “wayward husband,” and a large cast of peripheral characters catches the reader in a net of surprises as the narrator carefully details folklore, New Mexican recipes, home remedies, and more.

In this novel, Castillo changes her narrative voice, replacing the lyrical prose of her first work of fiction, The Mixquiahuala Letters, with the colloquial style of the oral tradition. Castillo brings to life the memories of a people whose history was controlled by the Spaniards in the colonial period and the United States in the postcolonial years. “So far from God—so near the United States,” observed Porfirio Diaz, Mexico's president and dictator from 1877 to 1911. It was the United States that swallowed in one gulp more than a million square miles of Mexican territory, its people, and its culture—the price exacted by the United States after its military victory in the Mexican-American War in 1848. For centuries, the Mexican territory that became New Mexico had had a land system of large holdings and extensive communal estates where sheep were raised. The Hispanos/as (a self-designated term for many years) have remained noticeably proud of their heritage and their land.

So Far from God is written in the regional speech of the Hispano/a of New Mexico: English interspersed with Spanish words and phrases and assorted Spanish anglicisms. Without a doubt, much of the storytelling fun is related to the meaning of Spanish words interjected by the narrator as she smoothly moves from one language to the other (code switching). On the other hand, the attempt to imitate the oral discourse of a plain-speaking storyteller does not always make smooth reading: “Even if Loca was not someone she would for any reason go to for instruction about nothing, it was Loca whom she had gone to see that afternoon specifically, to ask her for cooking classes.” At other times, the storyteller's style implicitly adds to the comedy. Making fun of Hispanos' desire to appear Spanish, the narrator describes Caridad:

Unlike the rest of the women in her family who, despite her grandmother's insistence that they were Spanish, descendants of pure Spanish blood, all shared the flat butt of the Pueblo blood undeniably circulating through their veins, Caridad had a somewhat pronounced ass that men were inclined to show their unappreciated appreciation for everywhere she went.

Nevertheless, the author's tendency to try to include everything in this book seems forced, and at times becomes intrusive—if this is possible in a story that swerves in two dozen different directions. For instance, when Castillo wants to address her political concerns, she allows the narrator to become didactic and cleverly announces it in the chapter heading: “La Loca Santa Returns to the World via Albuquerque Before Her Transcendental Departure; and a Few Random Political Remarks from the Highly Opinionated Narrator.” It should be added that the lengthy chapter headings imitate the particular custom of Cervantes in Don Quixote and add another amusing aspect to the novel.

Castillo immerses the reader in el ambiente of New Mexico as she races through cuentos y leyendas and the lives of las mujeres. So Far from God makes entertaining reading. Enjoy the book, and if you cannot understand what is so funny, ask a Mexican-American friend to explain it. Talvez te dice.