ELECTRIC SHAMANS AT THE FESTIVAL OF THE SUN

Seekers of all stripes congregate in the Andean páramo for a mystical music festival.

Noa and Nicole, 18, best friends, make the pilgrimage from their hometown of Guayaquil, Ecuador, a place rocked by the violence of men and mountains alike. Noa is on the hunt for her father, who left her as a child, and Nicole is focused on Noa, tied to her in the intensely intimate friendship of young women. Once at the festival, Solar Noise, they connect with others: Pamela and her partner, Fabio; Pedro and his partner, Carla; Mario and his friends Adriana and Julián. They mosh, do shrooms, have sex, dance with Diablumas, listen to songstresses, and congregate around a mysterious figure known as the Poet. Over the days of the festival, Noa seems to transform, unlocking an inner voice as powerful as the volcanic landscape. Interspersed with the events of the festival are selections from Noa’s father’s notebook, reporting on a long-ago visit from Noa and Nicole. Chapter headings tell us 10 years have passed on the Andean calendar; narrative cues tell us the passage of time here does not align with our usual linear conception. Outside of the journal, the novel’s narrative voice is a rotating first-person that visits the minds of Nicole, Mario, Pamela, and Pedro in turn, with diffusely mythological interludes by the festival songstresses themselves. Each voice feels less like a singular character and more like a member of the chorus, just another thread in the novel’s tangled web of words and ideas. Tonally, too, the prose—resonant, brusquely declarative—is often reminiscent of classical theater. It’s an approach that reflects its subject matter, leaving the impression of a symphony underpinning the world. At the same time, polyphonic narrative satisfies best when each character brings a truly unique perspective, and, in reaching for cohesion, Ojeda’s characters flounder for distinction. Pamela is the standout, the one character instantly discernible from the novel’s morass, regardless of context.

There’s plenty here for Ojeda’s fans, but the glass needs a lot of cleaning before one can see through the window.