Traducción al inglés de la novela Treinta años.
This is an edgy, funny and sometimes frightening book about an exhilarating and awful Mexican childhood. It is also an ode to the now-vanished secret heart of southern Mexico: its vast mahogany jungles and the constricted, tradition-bound, violent and yet enchanting smalltown life that until recently thrived along the jungle’s edges. Carmen Boullosa writes with a heart-stopping command of language. Her recollection of a child’s emotions is implacable and unerring, her sense of history precise. A beautiful work.
Carmen Boullosa... immerses us once again in her wickedly funny and imaginative world.
Delmira Ulloa watches all these proceedings with a placid disposition and a wry sense of humor... Putting into question the very dependability of our realities, this playful novel aims to muddle in order to help us better see.
San Francisco Chronicle Book Review
Erica Da Costa:
A lovely, aromatic mix of small-town portraiture and coming-of-age story, heavily seasoned with magical realism... So rich that we happily share with her the myriad components of her life, including the infinitely charming town she inhabits; her grandmother’s fantastic imagination; and the mysteriously absent father ‘who had been eliminated by the women in [her] home.
Washington Post Book World
Raucously imagined... a meditation on family, community and storytelling... In her hardwon wisdom and courage, Delmira is... fascinating.
Time Out New York
Sandra Tsing Loh:
To flee Agustini is to leave not just a town but the visceraly primal dreamscape it represents... to leave behind its villagers’ peculiar brand of storytelling and mass hallucination and fabulist thinking... And finally, and here comes the twist, to leave fabulist thinking... is to embrace (in a suddent torrent of violence in the last third of the book) the light of Communism... Lush... the exotic glossolalia of Mexico is a sheer sensual pleasure.
The New York Times Book Review
Monica L. Williams:
A vibrant coming-of-age tale that proves that magical realism has not lost its powers... Boullosa [is] a master of the genre... Each chapter is an adventure.
A luminous writer... a delightful coming-of-age tale filled with the kind of exulting magical realism that seemed to have run its course in Latin American literature... Boullosa is a masterful spinner of the fantastic... and this story of a girl growing up in a rural Mexican town is anything but ordinary in her hands... As she weaves her tall tales, Boullosa unearths, layer by layer, the wonderfully crafted character of Delmira.
The Herald (Miami)
Carmen Boullosa’s novel approaches its ultimate subject via a surprising plot device late in the book that changes the way the reader interprets everything that came before… Leaving Tabasco is actually a multi-layered narrative, challenging the reader to navigate a series of fantastic stories — the day no bird could fly, the day the coffee beans and cocoa pods fell off the plants, the day a woman bearing the stigmata of Christ dissolved in her own urine — and seek the truth, not just of the stories themselves (which may or may not be the workings of an overactive and fever-inspired imagination) but of the themes of the stories. Most of Delmira’s tales take place on 10 successive Sundays, lending them a religious tone, which adds to their mystery. The book is also punctuated by the stories of Delmira’s grandmother, a stern, unyielding woman, who recounts much of the history of Agustini as nightly bedtime stories. … shocking the reader into recognizing that real threats to society are far more horrifying than the most shocking imaginings of a young girl.
Sandra Tsing Loh, "It´s raining Toads".
Carlene Bauer, "Revieiw Leaving Tabasco", Time out New York.