Happy Cinco de Mayo! Since this first lines post falls on May 5th, it’s only fitting that the first lines highlighted today be those from science fiction stories written by Mexican-American authors.
What Is Cinco de Mayo?
In 1861, Mexico put a moratorium on its repayment of foreign debts. So English, Spanish, and French troops invaded the country. By 1862, the English and Spanish had left. But the French remained, hoping to establish a monarchy under Maximilian of Austria
A force made up of mestizo (people of mixed indigenous and European bloodlines) and Zapotec (indigenous people from Oaxaca, Mexico) fought the French. On May 5, 1862, they fought at the Battle of Puebla, a town southeast of Mexico City. Commanded by General Ignacio Zaragoza, this poorly equipped force defeated the French troops. They killed about 1000 French troops. That battle became a symbol of Mexican resistance to foreign domination, even though the French were not driven out for another five years.
Cinco de Mayo Today
In Puebla, now named Puebla de Zaragoza, they remember the battle with a museum and they made the former battlefield a park. The city celebrates this historic event with parades, speeches, and reenactments. The rest of Mexico doesn’t take much notice. But in the United States, immigrants and people of Mexican descent mark the day with celebrations to honor their heritage.
With apologies to readers who would prefer the fine books by authors in their native language, here are this month’s first lines from Mexican-American authors.
The parties at the Tuñóns’ house always ended unquestionably late, and since the hosts enjoyed costume parties in particular, it was not unusual to see Chinas Poblanas with their folkloric skirts and ribbons in their hair arrive in the company of a harlequin or a cowboy. Their chauffeurs, rather than waiting outside the Tuñóns’ house in vain, had systemized the nights. They would head off to eat tacos at a street stand or even visit a maid who worked in one of the nearby homes, a courtship as delicate as a Victoria
Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia
“Sierra? What are you staring at?”
“Nothing, Manny.”
Blatant lie. Sierra glance down from the scaffolding to where Manny The dumb. The domino. King stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “You sure?” He said.
“Yeah.” Sierra looked back at the mural. She hadn’t been making it up: a single tear glistened at the corner of papa Acevedo’s painted eyes. The tear wasn’t moving—of course it wasn’t moving: It was paint! But still: it hadn’t been there yesterday or the day before.
Shadowshaper (The Shadowshaper Cypher, Book 1) Daniel José Older
For many mornings, there had been nothing but barren land. Then one day, there was a house, a woman, her husband, and a rooster. The Montoyas arrived in the town of Four Rivers in the middle of the night without fanfare or welcome wagons, or cheesy, limp, green bean dishes, or flaky apple pies offered in an attempt to get to know the new neighbors. Though in truth, before their arrival, the townspeople had stopped paying much attention to who came and went anymore.
The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina Zoraida Córdova
Robado was a night place, and tonight Lucha Moya was glad of it. In night places, no one looked twice at a girl like her. Even one with a long knife strapped to her belt.
In the south ward, at the very tip of the city, the streets were already filling with workers ready to celebrate the end of a grueling day.
Revelry wasn’t Lucas’s purpose tonight, but the crowd served her needs nonetheless. She slipped in among the bodies, moving north, trusting that her expression would deter conversation if her knife didn’t. She had no friends to worry about offending. None in the south ward, and none in this entire cursed city.
Lucha of the Night Forest, Tehlor Kay Mejia
There was so much light that morning and the sky was so clear, its warm blue marked by a single white smirch, more like a plume of smoke than a cloud. It was already late and he needed to go and that hot day was just going to be just like the next: if it rained and he was hit with the river’s humidity and the stifling Buenos Aires heat, he would never be able to leave the city.
Juan swallowed a pill dry to stay off the headache he wasn’t feeling yet and went into the house to wake up his son, who was sleeping under a sheet. We are leaving, he said as he shook him gently.
Our Share of Night, Mariana Enriquez
Clarification
There are no affiliate links in this post. I don’t make a cent off of the books listed on this page. Usually I pull these titles at random. They are from Amazon, my personal library, my area public library, or other online book lovers and booksellers.
Do You Want to Read More?
Do these first lines hook you? Do you want to read more? They are here for your enjoyment. And to entice you to buy more books.
Check out previous First Lines posts.