The Dance and the Fire

In the evocative latest from Saldaña París (Planes Flying over a Monster), a choreographer’s visionary project shakes a Mexican city out of its collective slumber. The chapters alternate between the perspectives of Natalia, the choreographer, and two of her longtime friends, gradually revealing the history of their love triangle and their current circumstances as wildfires spread “throughout the state like an insidious rumor.” Natalia lives with a much older artist in his villa, tending to her beloved bromeliad garden while devising a dance piece inspired by the “collective hysteria” of 17th-century witch hunts. Erre, Natalia’s high school boyfriend, has returned from Mexico City following his divorce and struggles with a mysterious and painful condition. Conejo, who was once in love with Erre, lives with his blind father and dabbles in conspiracy theories. Natalia’s performance, along with the encroaching fires, unleashes a Dionysian frenzy in the city, causing people to dance wildly in the street. The prose occasionally feels strained (“Coincidences are like oysters opening simultaneously, a choir of bivalves intoning the song of meaning,” Natalia reflects). Nevertheless, Saldaña París executes some spellbinding moves, particularly as Natalia’s work fuels a collective psychosis. This smoldering tale is worth a look. (July)