Honduran writer Quesada's first book to appear in English--about Guillermo, a young Honduran peasant who picks pineapples for Standard Fruit in the plantations outside the village of La CeÃoa. Across the southern border in Nicaragua, the Sandinistas are routing Somoza, but in Honduras matters are eternally unchanged: work, repression, and poverty. Guillermo fancies himself a writer, which sets him apart some; and though in perpetual teenage heat, he has also managed to fall in genuine love with the beautiful Idalia. Their relationship develops under the gun, so to speak, of the large historical forces that deny them true happiness. Standard-issue Latin American leftist fare, then--given some stylistic embellishments (interior monologues, letters) but pretty much going exactly where's it's aimed: ""What have they fed us Hondurans to make us deaf, dumb, blind, and not able to smell gunpowder or blood right in front of our faces? What will become of us? Where are we headed?"" Old hat, not even worn at an especially interesting angle.