blood offering to alleviate her people's anguish. Immersed in a death cult's rituals, she speaks serenely of her own mortality, embracing it as a natural passage.

Ixca's soliloquies bookend the novel, invoking ancestral spirits as the sole, unwavering custodians of his land. His enigmatic persona eludes definition throughout the tale; whispers circulate about his origins and status, yet his true essence remains concealed. Symbolic of an ancient god of war, Ixca seeks to fulfill his destined role through various endeavors: he urges Rodrigo towards self-destruction and propels Norma into the tumultuous sea. In the aftermath of Norma's demise, consumed by flames in Teodula's presence, the crone proclaims the sacrifice complete, prompting Ixca's retreat from societal interactions.

Hints of Ixca's lethal nature thread through the narrative like shadows. Rosa's son, wary of Ixca's offer of food, bites his hand, unleashing a trail of blood. Later, the boy is mentioned only in death, as Rosa prepares for his burial. Ixca's taste of his own "acrid [and] metallic" blood sends his mind swirling, a dizzying cacophony of terror echoing in his ears. The boy's demise, potentially linked to the mysterious potency of Ixca's blood, remains an unspoken chord within the story.

Hortensia, the blind mistress of Indian descent tethered to Federico Robles, emerges as another potential mythic figure. Her ties to the world and her lover resonate with supernatural undertones. Unlike the enigmatic forces embodied by Ixca and Teodula, Hortensia symbolizes the nurturing, restorative spirit of ancient Mexico. Federico finds solace in her embrace, escaping the turmoil of his high societal life, and returns to her after losing all, seeking a redemptive existence on a farm. A subtle kinship with Ixca suggests Hortensia's own mythical identity; she perceives that they both "come from far away," are able to "understand without words," and possess "faces that frighten us and carry us to the limits of passions, good and evil," faces that would instill fear in others, "who would destroy us if we would show our true faces." Her connection with Federico transcends the superficial bounds of his social existence, a reality beyond "what life has made him." She declares that "the world which at last will be Federico's and [hers] is right here," waiting to reveal itself once Federico uncovers his "true face." Like Ixca, Hortensia holds a vision of an authentic Mexico lying beneath the veneer of the present, poised to arise following the collapse of cultural façades. When this transformation occurs in her lover's world, Hortensia enfolds him in her arms, offering a fresh, untainted beginning.

Fuentes and the Mexican Revolution

The tapestry of modern Mexico's history, especially woven with the threads of the Revolution and the tumultuous years that followed, is a recurring motif in the novels of Fuentes. Despite the fiery promise of transformation, the Revolution did little to alter the day-to-day realities of most Mexicans. This disheartening truth fuels Fuentes's Marxist perspective on history. His profound indignation compels him to embrace and steadfastly adhere to ideas that, for a period, the rest of the globe seemed eager to abandon.

While he shunned the rigid confines of Moscow-style Communism, Fuentes's version of individualistic Marxism lacks a precise definition. It appears more as a visceral reaction to the seemingly insurmountable social issues than as a methodical plan for societal rejuvenation. Suspicious of both capitalist and authoritarian Marxist ideologies, Fuentes treads his own path, searching for answers in the shadows of disillusionment.

Fuentes paints a vivid portrait of Mexico City's inhabitants, suggesting their lives are marked by a profound emptiness and a pervasive lack of fulfillment. Many drift unaware through this void, while others feel its haunting presence only in fleeting moments. Interwoven with this theme of emptiness is the sense of betrayal, notably illustrated by the Cain motif that critic Gyurko discusses (referenced in Fuentes's biographical section).

Federico Robles, Fuentes's emblematic figure of the nouveau riche, epitomizes this betrayal. He turns his back on revolutionary ideals and distances himself from the Indigenous roots that form the core of his ancestry.

The novel is a tapestry woven with threads of violence and mortality, its pages frequently stained by bloodshed. Fuentes paints a vivid picture of Mexico City, where danger lurks just beneath the surface, suggesting it is a reflection of the broader Mexican landscape. Ixca Cienfuegos, an omnipresent voice of Fuentes, cynically notes the futility of suicide in Mexico, quipping that there's "a very good chance that at any moment you may be killed by someone else." This dark humor echoes through the narrative.

Tragedy marks the novel's opening as Juan Morales, a taxi driver, meets a sudden end. Later, Manuel Zamacona, in a grim twist of fate, falls victim to senseless murder. A stranger takes his life simply due to a disliking of the poet's gaze. Zamacona, who strives to capture and define the essence of Mexican identity, ultimately succumbs to the very violence he perceives as a pervasive element of the nation's soul.