Signal to Noise

You probably won't get this novel if you don't remember those times, those situations, where music can be magic. Not just nice to listen to, or even the pure emotional rush of it, but actual honest-to-goodness world-changing magic. And "remember" is indeed a key word here; just like music accesses some part of our brain beyond language, so do memories. Signal To Noise, therefore, takes place in two timelines: in 1989, when three outcasts at a Mexico City high school discover that they can use music to cast actual spells, and twenty years later, when Meche Vega returns home for the first time in 20 years to bury her estranged father and has to start sorting through her memories of what happened.

It's a novel about relationship and show more memories that doubles as playlist, or rather as mix tape; listening to the playlist (Spotify), a mix of old rock and jazz classics and somewhat cheesy, overproduced 80s Mexican pop, is almost necessary. It's not that I hear the magic in all those songs, or even that Moreno-García can always capture it in writing - but it still triggers something in me, a memory that doesn't have to go with that particular song. Our mixtapes are memories of untold histories, to quote a poet.

You might argue that the misunderstood-loner-in-high-school-discovers-magic-powers (though the magic bit is nicely understated, neither solving or spoiling anything by itself) plot is trite. Trite like an 80s pop song, that at one point meant everything and now gathers dust. Sure. You might even argue that it's hard to like (who decided we have to like fictional characters anyway) Meche, I still call her a bizarrely produced but brilliant single, all elbows, too loud drums and sharp notes. And while most of the action takes place in 1989, it's the distance - and the closing of that distance - 20 years later that makes the novel more than just a novelty. Sure it's been done before, sure all those drum machines and DX7s and teenage drama sound a bit silly today, but we lived through them, they changed our world, and it would be a lie to forget it. show less

My experience as a reader far exceeded my expectations--not that I had low expectations! I just don't usually go into a book with my hopes up, that way they don't get dashed, and that way I can provide something closer to an "honest" review that isn't tainted by those expectations (the way people ruin movies for themselves by expecting those movies to be their vision of what the book ought to have been on the big screen).

I went in with an open mind, unsure what to expect. Wait, that's a lie. I expected ONE thing: good, solid prose. I've read Moreno-Garcia's short story collection Love & Other Poisons and that's what persuaded me to seek out getting my hands on a copy of Signal to Noise. She delivered.

Meche is a protagonist you might show more love or you might hate, but it seems more reasonable to feel a little bit of both for her. She's a complex girl/woman and that is handled masterfully as the story navigates between the late 1980s flashbacks and the 2009 "current" narrative in the text. As is every other character. The only 'flat' figures are background characters who are more part of the scenery than real characters, and even those are often given a touch of color to make them real and present. The back and forth in time works so well to build up the story that's being told; far better than if it had been told in sequential order.

The book walks a very interesting line between young adult and teen fiction (I make a distinction because "adult" has implications, even accompanied by young, that I wouldn't include in fiction I might be showing to a 13 year old) without dumbing anything down or amping up the 'adult' part. It's a great balance.

I look forward to reading more work by Silvia, that's for sure.

Plus, this book made me feel a little less weird about how I feel compelled to touch things in thrift stores and other secondhand shops, looking for those sparks from the items' pasts.

As a note, for transparency, and to comply with FTC guidelines: I received a copy of Signal to Noise through NetGalley in exchange for a review. show less

Hold on a moment while I slip into some stirrup pants, a knit sweater from The Limited, and my pink leather flats because we are going back to the 80s. This book takes place in 1989 and 2009, the former when Meche was a teenager and the latter when she returned home to Mexico City for a family event.

The 80s stuff was so great. I was a teenager in the 80s, though I'm a few years older than Meche, and everything was on point. The clothes, the hair, and most especially the music anchor you in place. (I have so many notes about songs I want to listen to.) And it was so very teenager, if you remember how it was back then, so full of the feeling that you were on the brink of something magical. And in Meche's case, she truly was.

The Oughts show more stuff of this novel somehow felt less locked into place than the 80s stuff, and to great effect because even though the Oughts were the "present" of this novel, it's the 80s that were the center of the story.

Meche is so great. When she's a teenager she's... well, she's a teenager. She lets the power she's always been denied go to her head and she is impetuous and sometimes cruel. And she's stubborn and almost humorously cannot share her emotions with anyone. She retains some of that emotional immaturity as an adult, but she's trying to deal with it, and her doing so results in one of the best scenes in the novel.

This is a book of flawed people doing the best they can, about magic and music, and about love.

[I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.] show less

Much as Jonathan Lethem accomplished with his Fortress of Solitude, the fantasy elements of Signal to Noise, while important, do not drive the narrative; rather, it’s the sensitive and lovely portrayal of childhood ideals mashing up against adult reality that forms the book’s heart. Meche and her friends are realistically flawed beings driven by a combination of childish wishes and adolescent hormones, finding themselves with an avenue into the fantastic and yet unable to reconcile this newfound power with any emotional maturity. Signal to Noise is about magic, but more importantly, it’s concerned with what lies beyond magic, when the fantasy has collapsed and all we can do is pick up the pieces and go on. In other words, magic show more itself isn’t important; it’s how we deal with its absence that proves who we are, or what we may be.

Read more at the Redeblog. show less

'Why can't music be magic? Aren't spells just words you repeat? And what are songs? Lyrics that play over and over again. The words are like a formula.'

I took so long to download this that the cover image changed in my wishlist, but Silvia Moreno-Garcia's novel was well worth the wait. A YA story set in Mexico, switching between 1984 and 2009, Signal to Noise is a wonderful blend of music and magic. Best friends and fellow misfits Meche (Mercedes) and Sebastian are struggling through school, family life and first love, but will the power of music draw them together or break them apart?

Even though the twin themes of nostalgia and mysticism are far from original in coming of age novels like this, the characters are both believable and show more sympathetic, even prickly Meche, who casually inherits her grandmother's powers but quickly begins to abuse her talents. I identified with her, and Sebastian, and Daniela, the third 'witch' in Meche's coven - anybody who grew up on the fringes of school life, preferring to retreat into the sanctuary of books or headphones couldn't help but like them, and feel for them. Meche and Sebastian's relationship also reminded me of Austen's Emma and Mr Knightley, friends too close to realise how strongly they feel about each other. Oh, and bonus points for mentioning Queen and Freddie Mercury! A fast and youthful read, very enjoyable. show less

I received an ebook through NetGalley.

This highly enjoyable novel reminded me of a cross between Charles de Lint's Newford and Rainbow Rowell's Eleanor and Park. Moreno-Garcia evokes magical realism via music in late 1980s Mexico City. Meche is an angry girl--a bitch, quite frankly--who is often the cruelest to her friends Sebastian and Daniela. Meche's life is music and mix tapes. When she realizes she can cast spells via song and pulls her friends into her plot, things escalate in dangerous ways.

The plot thread set in 2009 is just as intriguing. Meche is forced to confront her past when she reluctantly returns home for her father's funeral. Moreno-Garcia does a fabulous job of showing how Meche has changed yet stayed true to herself, show more in both good and bad ways. The back and forth flow is paced just right; it looks effortless, and as a writer awes me a bit because of the work that must have been involved.

It's a deep book. It can be marketed as YA but I really don't think the younger set would "get it" as much as an older reader. (And man, I hated being told that when I was younger, but...) I was able to personally connect withe Meche even though she's unlikeable at times. The period details were spot-on. I knew most of the music--loved it when Steve Perry was mentioned--and at one point, the friends even play the original Castlevania together. Plus, I enjoyed the fresh setting of Mexico City. It's really a great mix of elements, and the more I think on the novel, the more I like it. show less

"I hate this city," she told the pillow, because she wouldn't tell him.

Music as magic. 1988 and 2009. A story split between two fixed points, a friendship then and what it might be now.

Set in Mexico City, this novel follows a young teen named Meche, a loner who adores music and is friends with two other loners, Sebastian and Daniela. When Meche discovers she can cast spells using records, her life is changed.

Initially, it seems this magical skill can only improve Meche's life, even though Sebastian and Daniela are less convinced. Angry teenagers wielding magic leads right where you can imagine, and I loved every minute of it. Moreno-Garcia beautifully articulates that awful, oppressive, unshakeable frustration one suffers as a teen, and show more the ugly wishes Meche manifests resonated with me so strongly. At times, Meche is so unlikable, but realistically so: you want to shake her as much as hug her.

Interwoven in Meche's story is that of her father, a music lover searching for a magical fix of his own, so to speak. His own happy ending. The journey to find it has costs, like Meche's journey for happiness. The bittersweet realism in this book is what keeps it from being flimsy, soft, or too fantastical.

I could have taken another two hundred pages of this book; I wasn't ready to leave Meche as a teen or adult. Like a great mix that leaves you laying on bed in the dark, not asleep, not awake, Signal to Noise left me satisfied and wanting more. show less