On the 13th day, a miracle occurred. One of the miners trapped after a gold mine in Sinaloa collapsed emerged from the darkness alive. Located wth the help of a team of divers, the rescue of Francisco Zapata Nájera gave hope to those waiting outside. He was still conscious when a head poked out from under the water and asked him if he was okay.

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I don’t know if this is sufficiently clear: Eduardo Ruiz Sosa, born in 1983 in the Mexican town of Culiacán, is one of the best Spanish-language novelists of his generation. El paisaje es un grito (The Landscape Is a Scream) is the third time he has demonstrated this, after his 2014 Anatomía de la memoria (Anatomy of Memory) and the 2022 El libro de nuestras ausencias (The Book of Our Absences), all constructed with an obsessive slowness and communicating with each other in complex ways, sometimes obvious (a certain arrangement of the text which puts it on the verge of becoming poetic verse; its torrential nature; or, of course, its “Mexicanness”) and other times subtle. We are talking about important, enormous, dense works. Unmissable ones.

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