The Five Wounds

4.5****

Amadeo Padilla can never catch a break, but maybe now, finally, he’s on his way. He’s been chosen to play Jesus in the annual Good Friday procession, and he’s determined to give it his all. But on his big day, his fifteen-year-old daughter, Angel, shows up, hugely pregnant and needing shelter.

The opening chapter of this marvelous character-driven work was a short story in Quade’s collection, Night At the Fiestas. I admit that I could not imagine how she would turn that short story into a full-length novel, but she did a marvelous job of building on the idea to flesh out the characters.

What I wrote about the short-story collection holds true here as well: ”What Quade’s characters share is that desire to “be show more someone else” and/or somewhere else, but no real means of achieving that. They dream, but are somehow powerless to change their circumstances, falling back on old patterns of behavior, afraid to let go of their past to head into the future.”

Amadeo, his mother, Yolanda, and Angel all struggle with the unfairness of life. With limited education and few opportunities to succeed they stay stuck in a pattern of repeated mistakes. Yolanda has never stopped babying Amadeo, her youngest child and the prized son, whose father died too young. She has never allowed him to learn how to fail and, more importantly, how to recover from failure. He’s like a full-grown toddler in his approach to life. He’s dependent on his mother for shelter, food, gas and beer money. And he is powerless to help his own daughter, whom he’s barely seen since she was a tiny child.

Yolanda deals with her problems by denying they exist. She soldiers on, taking one exhausted (and exhausting) step after another, with no way out of her difficulties. She cannot bring herself to ask for help or to accept it if it’s offered … but who would offer since she doesn’t let anyone know there IS a problem.

And Angel, the poor kid, is genuinely trying her best to finish high school, get the right nutrition for her baby, ensure that the infant is cared for and nurtured to develop appropriately. I loved the scenes where she would talk to him to enrich him and encourage the development of language. But the reader cannot forget that she is still a child herself. And desperately seeking love wherever she can find it.

Quade gives us a marvelous cast of supporting characters as well, from Tio Tive (the family patriarch) to Brianna, who leads the program for teen mothers at Angel’s alternative school, to Angel’s mom, Marissa, all of them are fully realized and add to the dynamic of this family’s difficult relationships.

Despite how they infuriated me, and how often I wanted to just shake some sense into them, I wound up really loving these characters. Some of that was because Quade often gave the reader some hope for a change in circumstances (often short-lived hope, but hope nonetheless). One character sums it up best: Love is both a gift and a challenge. show less

This is a beautiful and painful glimpse into life within a multigenerational family in America, navigating the complexities of birth and death while struggling with the challenges of existence in between. The characters are imperfect, each with flaws and struggles, yet undeniably lovable. I was rooting for each of them, empathizing with their triumphs and tribulations. It hurt to take in the contrast between mistakes that can be overcome and those that lead to irreversible consequences, underscoring the inherent unfairness of life. The pace was nice, gradually building to a powerful climax while interjecting moments of humor that offer respite from feeling too bleak. I loved the dynamic between Angel and Amadeo as they navigate their show more roles as young parent and grandparent, undergoing personal growth and strengthening their bond. The universal desires for love, acceptance, and understanding are juxtaposed with the fear of vulnerability and pain in a relatable way. I couldn't help but recognize echoes of my relationships mirrored in some of the ones on the page. I felt both injustice and hope for a brighter future, and truly recommend this gorgeous read. show less

The Five Wounds is a reminder of why reading is such a pleasure. It’s a realistic story with messy characters trying to do the right thing and sometimes failing spectacularly, but at the heart of it all is family and love. It’s an engrossing read.

The story opens as Amadeo is preparing to play Jesus in the Good Friday procession in his small town. Amadeo isn’t really what you would call a catch – he’s unemployed, drinks too much, relies on his mum for money and rarely sees his daughter. But he’s trying to be better and trying to find something in religion. It’s a simple life until daughter Angel shows up. She’s heavily pregnant and not keen on living with her mum and her mum’s boyfriend anymore. It’s a wakeup call for show more Amadeo, but his own mother Yolanda will take care of things, as she always has done. Initially, Yolanda’s on holiday and then she’s got problems of her own. The family trundles along, making mistakes and getting into trouble. But big changes are coming, and they are going to be difficult for each of them to cope with.

The Five Wounds has a big heart and at its centre celebrates family, in all its messy glory. All of the characters do stupid things (but with a rationale, none are inexplicable) that they don’t always fully own up to. Yet they are completely likeable and memorable. It’s all so warm and so real, possibly because underlying it all is love for each family member. Even when they don’t get along, it’s not a lifelong dealbreaker between the characters. All the characters are individual with flaws, but that doesn’t make the reader like them any less. Amadeo could be someone the reader dislikes and pities, as he lacks motivation to do almost anything. But the author shows his inner thoughts and vulnerabilities, such as his fear that he can’t do anything right. Angel is almost the opposite of Amadeo, with her drive to finish school and raise her baby well. Yet she too comes adrift after the loss and betrayal of those she looks up to. Her struggles are honest and feelings laid bare before the reader. At times, the story is almost a coming of age for each of the main characters (despite their actual age) as they cope with some harsh realities. As a reader, it’s hard to let them go at the end of the book. They felt so real to me.

The story is set over a year and multiple issues, big and small are dealt with. Some small things feel huge to certain characters and literal life or death decisions appear minor to others. I think that’s where another of the joys of The Five Wounds is – the response of each character to events. It felt very realistic (even if I didn’t agree with them as a reader). The emotions run high, but never overtake the narrative or characters. This is just a superb book of family and life that deserves a lot more attention.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com show less

Kirstin Valdez Quade's The Five Wounds is both deeply engaging and deeply unsettling. Its characters comprise an extended family—dysfunctional, only not dysfunctional in that they they stand by and count on one another. There's Angel, fifteen years old and pregnant, attending a GED program for teen mothers. There's her father Amadeo who has failed at almost everything he has ever tried, yet keeps trying, and keeps failing. Yolanda, mother to Amadeo and grandmother to Angel, has spent her life caring for others, smoothing things out each time Amadeo fails—and has just discovered she has brain cancer. Brianna, the teacher at Angel's teen mothers program. And this is just a small segment of the community that populates The Five show more Wounds.

The Five Wounds isn't an easy read. Valdez Quade is able to seduce us into caring deeply about her characters, so we feel each of their disappointments, their confusions around their own worth and purpose. At moments, one can lean back and feel a distance that allows for laughter as well as pain in response to the narrative, but for the most part these characters are much to real to be easy to laugh at.

This isn't a take-it-to-the-beach read, but it is most definitely a get-caught-up-in-it-and-view-a-single-series-of-events-from-multiple-quirky-and-complex-perspectives book.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title via EdelweissPlus; the opinions are my own. show less

I love Kirstin Valdez Quade's writing. Love it. I had read [b:Night at the Fiestas|25622829|Night at the Fiestas|Kirstin Valdez Quade|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1453021037l/25622829._SX50_.jpg|41629766] several years ago, and the short story that became the novel was one that I recall as distinctly striking. So it was no surprise to me that I loved [b:The Five Wounds|53597769|The Five Wounds|Kirstin Valdez Quade|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1612030905l/53597769._SY75_.jpg|83925120], but what was surprising was my response.

So uually when I love a book, that feeling presents itself as a flood of affection, admiration, and enthusiasm for the words crafted show more together.

In this case, upon finishing the closing paragraph, I cried.

Cried because the story was beautiful with exquisite descriptions of northern New Mexico and detailed, complicated characters dealing with that thing called life. Cried because I needed the catharsis after reading a heart-wrenching story. Cried because there was still hope for Amadeo, Angel, and Connor, despite flaws, life circumstances, and questionable choices. Cried because the crucifixion of Jesus Christ was the perfect metaphor for the pain and sacrifice that comes with loving someone.

And that, dear Goodreads users, is why I rated this book five stars. show less

Oh, what a wonderful book. It started off a little slowly, but I loved her use of place, of pov, of characterization. I loved watching these characters try to connect, watching them fail and try again. Watching how they formed and reformed family. How they could forgive. The only true weakness for me was the pov of Brinna. I see why it was there in terms of plot, but she added so little, and she faded away at the end. Angel's perspective of LIzette is brilliant.

I happened upon this novel when my local Overdrive site offered it up as a group read. I'm glad I picked up on what turned out to be a wonderful read. The narration centers around three generations of a poor Hispanic family, living in New Mexico. Yolanda goes to work every day, supporting her deadbeat son who drinks too much and blames others for his life. But when his uncle suggests that he play the role of Jesus in the Easter processional, he buys in completely , even having them nail his hands to the cross. This turns out to be a bad idea more than a noble gesture. His daughter, Angel, has just shown up at his door, eights months pregnant and will need him to step up to a father role he has never previously assumed. This is a sad, show more realistic story of hard times, addiction, teen pregnancy, generational poverty-- a Grapes of Wrath for modern times. But like that classic there is still a chance to find some grace among these characters. Valdez evidently turned this New Yorker story into a fully developed novel and we are fortunate to experience a year in the life of this family. Highly recommend.
Lines
The buttons of her jeans are unsnapped to make way for its fullness, and also to indicate how this happened in the first place.

Most of the families out here have been on the same land for hundreds of years. Trailers and newer cinderblock structures are wedged into yards alongside crumbling adobe ruins. Some families, like the Romeros, continue to farm small plots of corn and squash and chile, irrigated by acequias, the straight green rows defiant in the face of discount Walmart food. The same few surnames: Padilla, Martinez, Trujillo, Garcia. Marriage and intermarriage like shuffling the same deck of cards.

All this beauty. Also underfunded public schools, dry winters, a falling water table, shitty job prospects. Mostly what people have now is cheap heroin.

Anything that needs doing can be done better elsewhere.

She felt powerful, getting these guys—who’d once been so swaggering—naked, with their zitty backs and needy, nosing penises. They were pathetic in their grunting urgency and in those slack, defenseless minutes after.

These cells were the American Dream. They were the Sam Waltons of cells, the Starbucks, starting small and taking over vast swaths of territory, leaving destruction and foreclosures and empty storefronts in their wake.

For instance, wasn’t it amazing that during ovulation, women’s voices increased in pitch? And wasn’t it more amazing that when played audio recordings of women’s voices and asked to rank them by attractiveness, heterosexual men picked the ovulating woman?

Angel watches Lizette, who gazes out the window, conveying with her posture, her expression, her every cell, that nothing will make her ever care about anything, ever. show less