home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990
/
1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
/
time
/
081489
/
08148900.067
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1990-09-17
|
2KB
|
47 lines
BOOKS, Page 68Hail Cesar
THE MAMBO KINGS PLAY SONGS OF LOVE
by Oscar Hijuelos
Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 407 pages; $18.95
Wine, women and song, not necessarily in that order, keep the
pages turning in Oscar Hijuelos' second novel. All are enjoyed by
a Cuban musician named Cesar Castillo who immigrates to New York
City after World War II and has a few good years in the 1950s as
leader of the Mambo Kings. The band's biggest hit was Beautiful
Maria of My Soul, which was first recorded in 45 r.p.m. and rose
to No. 8 on the "easy listening" charts in 1955. Close but no cigar
is the story of Castillo's career, the highlight of which occurred
when he and brother Nestor were invited to play Ricky Ricardo's
visiting Cuban cousins on an episode of I Love Lucy.
Hijuelos returns the courtesy by giving Desi Arnaz and Lucille
Ball guest spots in his novel, as celebrities who descend like
deities for a potluck supper in the modest home of ordinary
mortals. Arnaz turns out to be a sweetheart who eats second
helpings, drinks heartily and sings Babalu long into the evening.
Ball has good manners and a considerate way of peeking at her
watch.
The scene mirrors the sitcom segment that earned Castillo his
few minutes of fame, and adds poignancy to what came before and
after those golden moments on national TV. Castillo's flamboyant
plumage and mating behaviors seem dated and may not appeal to
readers who now find machismo to be a dirty word. Hijuelos deflects
this prejudice with sensitivity and a charged style that elevates
stereotype into character. His hero may have urgent appetites and
simple tastes, but he gives as much pleasure as he receives. In
addition, his story strikes resonant chords when told against the
rich cultural fusion of postwar New York.
Hijuelos, 37, author of 1985's Our House in the Last World,
catches the rhythms and flavors of the streets, nightclubs and
Latin family life. Castillo is all melody, by turns upbeat and
melancholy. By age 60, his best performances on bandstand and
bedstead behind him, he occupies a room in an East Harlem flop
mockingly called the Hotel Splendour. There, his music out of
style, his body failing, he thrives on memories of songs sung and
women loved. Yet, as Hijuelos conveys with art and sympathy, the
Mambo King is to be admired and envied as a man who squeezed the
juice out of life before life squeezed the juice out of him.