Novel Description In 1932 El Salvador, Elena de Contreras and her husband Ernesto live the luxurious life of the very wealthy: regular trips to Europe and the United States, vast amounts of property, several gorgeous homes. In sharp contrast to their privileged existence, however, are the lives of the coffee workers they employ, who know only the hardships of back-breaking labor and low wages. Mercedes Prieto, a Pipil Indian, comes from such a background. After losing her son and husband in the aftermath of a violent uprising against rich plantation owners, she flees with her daughter Jacinta to work in the household of Elena de Contreras.

Their arrival sets in motion a spellbinding story that takes three generations to unfold, as the two families become inexorably intertwined and their private turmoil mirrors the upheaval of the world around them. Rich in history, tradition, color, and drama, Bitter Grounds is at once poetic and unsentimental, a page-turning book.

An Excerpt

"For days after arriving at Chenta Gomez’s place, Mercedes Prieto’s mind refused to settle itself into the cramped, windowless room that was all of Chenta’s house. At times, she felt the presence of Jacinta fussing over her. At others, it was Chenta spooning soup into her mouth. Frequently, Mercedes’s vision was blurred. Colors were indistinct. Occasionally, when Jacinta or Chenta spoke, their voices changed into those of Ignacio or Pru. Of one thing Mercedes was certain. Basilio Fermin, curled up and silent, lying in the thumbnail of space twetween the wall and her petate.

"The boy seemed never to move, though Mercedes knew this was impossible. Now and then, she would pat the slender curve of his back, and when she did, he twitched a little and moaned as if he were a dog sleeping through a nightmare.

"While Mercedes lay on her petate and convalesced, stories drifted in. Stories about la matanza, the massacre. Almost thirty thousand has been killed, it was said. Indian men, women and children. So many dead that corpses had been dumped into massive, common graves. So many dead in the south and in the west that the air reeked with the stench of them. So many dead, so hastily buried, that rooting pigs or marauding dogs would sometimes carry home a piece of human flesh, a length of bone. And it was said that those not killed during the revolt had been hunted down and shot when found.

"For days after hearing this, Mercedes took to talking to herself. She spokes low, under her breath, mouthing sentences such as, If he was alive when we left, he’s surely dead now. Or – it was very dark in the room when this happened, so it must have been night – Ignacio’s face appeared to her and she asked him about Tino. Have you see him, husband? Is our boy alive or dead? But Ignacio had not spoken. It was Jacinta, lying beside her, who responded. 'Sush, sush, Mamá. Dormite ya. Go to sleep now.'

"The news, too, spread quickly through town: Additional squads of guardias were now in El Congo. The men watched with sharp eyes for Indians here who might duplicate the actions of their brothers in the south. Fearing reprisals, Indians ceased to speak Nahuatl and to wear their native dress. Gone were the long skirts in lavender and sky-blue and soft persimmon. The contrasting sashes that set off the waist. In their place came plain, short dresses of somber colors. Silenced were the lilting sounds of the Pipil."

Reviews

"A story of passion, politics, death, and love....This is the kind of book that fills your dreams for weeks."
Isabel Allende

"Packs an emotional punch.....A compelling read."
Boston Globe

"Explores passion, politics, love, death, and betrayal in an intricately plotted mystery....Moving and lyrical."
Minneapolis Star Tribune

"Engaging and involving....Packed with exquisite detail...entirely captivating."
Austin American-Statesman

"It's hard not to get hooked."
St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Reader's Guide

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