and the shadows took him: A Novel

I really enjoyed reading Daniel Chacon's "and the shadows took him." What struck me most about the novel was how well Chacon weaves in the humanity of his characters (their pains, hungers, wants) within the narrative. The family in the novel feels so real to me-- and there's a kind of aching to the Molina family that makes me attach to them, that makes me want things for them as I would want for myself. And so much in this novel is funny: the horseradished dinner scene, the acting cows, etc. But what really strikes me is that behind even the funniest ones (the method actor going "Moo. Moo. Moo.",),behind the carefully woven wit, there's still always a seriousness, even in subtlety. In that seriousness, we see Joey Molina as well... a real boy... not just as a symbol for a culture or for a kind of person, but a real person fraught with both immense flaws and immense possibilities-- his desires are real, and so is he. When I read a book, I have to admit, one of the things I want is for the writing to allow me to be completely immersed in that "little world made cunningly," as John Donne would say. And "and the shadows took him" is not only crafted cunningly, but with love. I say this because despite the violences, despite the ability of the characters to fall upon their own flaws so great that as we read it our knuckles whiten, gripping the book and turning it page after page, and on the edge of our seats, still, it's always evident that Chacon lets his characters be who they really are. And not what he as an author wants them to be, or a more directive reader wants, or what the genre wants. I like that. I like it a lot, because the Molinas in this novel are not simply characters to me, but human beings, with real human flaws. Because I've read this book, they're like friends now, or family-- their lives so well told that they've unfolded, breathless in the landscape. Chacon allows this through a lot of craft, where the interplay between humor and... danger, the threatening aspects of culture, of growing up, of subculture... make the novel's little world, its landscape, whole. I really really recommend this book. It's light and funny if you're looking for entertainment, but it's also got that necessary truth to it that I know I look for in everything I'm reading. It's the kind of book that I will read again, and again, and again, because I know that every time I choose to enter that landscape, it will be real, whole, and have something important to say-- each time. I plan on ordering his other book, Chicano Chicanery today. I can't wait to read it.

I read a lot of novels. Many are good reads. Some, of course, are really bad, even horrible. I'm sure you readers know this, too. Then there are truly fulfilling novels like "and the shadows took him," by Daniel Chacon. This novel is not only a great story, but written extremely well. Chacon is a master at his craft. You, readers, will not be disappointed. If you are like me, the title, "shadows," will be the first thing that will capture your attention before you open the novel. Chacon's use of shadow and light in his descriptions, how it works and plays with mood and tension within the novel, will assure you that the author has complete control. I would love to ruin the end of this novel, to give you the most powerful example of this control over image, the author's use of shadows, but I will be fair and only tell you that the novel leads to an amazing ending--a final image that I promise will stay with you well after you set the book down. The story follows the Molinas, a family that finds itself, suddenly, as middle class, moving to the predominately white town of Medford, Oregon, away from their lower income neighborhood in Fresno. Here we meet William, the father and subject of most of the tension in the novel; Joey, the youngest son and main character; Rachel, the beautiful mother; Veronica, the daughter and oldest child; and Billy, the oldest son. I love the way these characters are completely distinct from each other. Well after you read this novel, even if you forget the characters names, you will certainly remember the image of each of these characters. I can't say enough good things about "and the shadows took him." Read it.

"and the shadows took him" by Daniel Chacon is a wonderful novel. A bit of J.D. Salinger, a touch of Saroyan, a taste of Gary Soto, but all Chacon. His characters are true. His prose is clean and sure. A novel that can be enjoyed by all cultures. Highly recommended.

Wow! A creative blend of reality, tragedy, and comedy generated from changes in one's physical, cultural, and social location. Chacon shows how Chicanos change from minor personalities in a Chicano-rich location to mini-celebrities in a Chicano-poor location based on concocted and unconfronted information from all members of society. What we are culturally can be greatly influenced by our immediate society. A Chicano in Fresno, California may become "more" Chicano or "less" Chicano in Medford, Oregon depending on others' perceptions or one's reinvented personhood. Chacon is particularly brilliant in showing how "success" in the individual and the family creates paths and desires that benefit, harm, or significantly restructure the individual and family. A small but significant aspect of "success" centers on having a command of language for the group one desires or needs to fit into-this combined with a general wit for language makes one powerful. Like the characters in "And the Shadows Took Him," I grew up in Fresno when it was the murder capital for years. Coming from Fresno and being a person of color was a two-edged sword, ascribing me with either favorable or unfavorable value based on whom I was interacting with and my location. Fresno was so violent for a period of time that a friend I was visiting gave me a tour of Oakland late into the night, assuring me that it was OK because "This isn't Fresno." Chacon deftly incorporates such experiences into his Chicano characters but with the added twist of a lengthy stay, a stay in which the characters not only gain unfamiliar power but also lose familiar power when inserted into a predominantly white community. Chacon also bravely confronts how such changes both amplify and reveal problems within a Chicano family. Previously "acceptable" violence in the family, set within new social constraints and freedoms, are transformed into unacceptable forms or more revealing forms. A move to a new domain changes one into something else that one may or may not like. A prominent feature of "And the Shadows Took Him" is Chacon's ambushing witticisms that draw craftily from the narrative. The witticisms were signposts reminding me that I had remembered and organized much more of the novel than I realized. I found myself either commenting or laughing aloud at the coffee shop and bookstore despite my efforts to read silently. This subtle feature reveals Chacon's mastery and forethought. I was left with a pleasant experience of generating additional pages in my mind beyond the final word of the final chapter, like being satiated from dinner but with room to ponder possible desserts.

William Molina feels good that he is the first Hispanic-American to be promoted to management as a dispatcher in Fresno and shocks his wife Rachel, his teenage daughter Vero , and his two sons teen Billy and preadolescent Joey by taking them to dinner. The family has never been to a waitress based restaurant where a person serves the meal. Not long after that William knows he has obtained the American dream as he relocates to Oregon as a middle class worker.However, Joey also realizes that leaving impoverished Fresno did not remove the stereotype label of Latino gang member. While Joey performs at his new school in the role of punk hood, William struggles with the darker side of the American dream that he finds lacks substance. Already known for his temper though he always controlled his fists, his anger may break his family apart if he does not learn to control his growing wrath.This is an intriguing character study that takes an extremely dark look at the impact of the American dream on one?s roots. The story line is driven by the five Molinas as readers get a close look at each of them and through them aspects of the Mexican-American culture. Daniel Chacon paints a deep tale that makes the case that assimilation is not all that it seems.Harriet Klausner