SACRIFICIO

Mestre-Reed combines elements of a spy novel and political thriller with bleak, steely-eyed realism about Cuba in the 1990s.

After the fall of the Soviet Union and the disappearance of Soviet support, Cuba entered the “special period,” which was marked by a sharp increase in poverty, a lack of basic goods and services, and deep uncertainty about the future of the country and the socialist dreams it was built on. Mestre-Reed explores this uncertain time while also telling a story about Cuba’s underground gay and HIV-positive population. Rafa, who's come to Havana from rural eastern Cuba, goes home one night with a man named Nicolás, becoming entwined with him, his brother, Renato, and their mother, Cecilia. The family runs a high-dollar but semilegal restaurant, or paladar, out of their home, catering to rich tourists who seek an “authentic” Cuban meal, and Rafa helps them wait tables. Soon, he falls into a passionate and tormented affair with Nicolás that’s intimate and yet hard to define for both parties. During the peak of the AIDS epidemic, Cuba established sidatorios, or sanitariums, which were mandatory for people who were HIV-positive. The novel opens after Nicolás has been sent to a sidatorio and died, though no one knows where his body is. Renato also tests positive for HIV and is sent to the sidatorio but is allowed to leave on the weekends. Rafa and Renato are united in their grief for Nicolás but also in their aimlessness; they spend their weekends together, wandering the city, looking for tourists to pick up, and roaming without much of a purpose. After a fateful encounter with an enigmatic German tourist, Rafa learns that Nicolás and Renato had more secrets than he realized. Nicolás was a member of “los injected ones,” people so disillusioned with their country and their future that they purposefully infected themselves with HIV in a self-destructive act of protest. Now, this group is determined to overthrow the Castro government during Pope John Paul II’s upcoming visit to Cuba. Rafa becomes a hesitant detective, more interested in learning about Nicolás, Renato, and himself than in stopping the violent uprising. In this way, the book itself reflects the slow decay of ideals Mestre-Reed is exploring in the story. The novel’s Cuba is full of dreaming, even delusional, idealists—whether it’s the bureaucrats running the state, foreign tourists determined to overlook what’s in front of them to see the picturesque Cuba of the mind, or erstwhile revolutionaries committed to any kind of change at any price.

A compelling, melancholy novel that explores the beautiful rise and often violent breakdown of dreams, ideals, and love.