The book unfolds in a blissfully organic, sprawling way. There's Amarante Cordova, the ageless wonder who has been dying since birth, only to outlive many of his own children there's one-armed Onofre Martinez, who claims that he lost his appendage to a butterfly pugnacious Joe Mondragon, the pint sized protagonist who starts the whole squabble Milo, his guilt ridden lawyer who has to reconcile his white American background with his Hispanic wife Horsethief Shorty, the foreman at the Dancing Trout ranch and crony to main villain Ladd Devine III and a whole assortment of special agents, water rights lawyers, body shop and plumbing shop owners, angels and car thieving senile grandmothers. But the book is so much more: the differences between the Mexican and American cultures, believing in miracles, political dissidence, and all of the ridiculously awesome characters that the author breathes life into. Ostensibly, the book is about a water-rights squabble in a small town in New Mexico. If you don't like it, I'm liable to punch you in the genitals. This is my favorite damn book of all time ever.
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