"A slow dance, an elegy to a cleaning woman, that continues the author's celebraton of his Cuban roots. A character endowed with romantic yearnings, Lydia moves with stoic grace through the decades...Emotional fine tuning and pitch-perfect prose." -- "Time""Finely detailed, funny, sweet...a deliberately simple story graced with the power of the ordinary."-- "National Public Radio""Simply Splendid...In "Empress of the Splendid Season, " Hijuelos lovingly suggests, true beauty lies in the small moments of a 'decent, genteel, low-key'life..."-- "People""Nobody writes better about sensual life than Hijuelos, and Empress resounds with sights, tastes, humming ambience...His best novel since his Pulitzer-winning "The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love.""-- "Los Angeles Times""Exuberantly written...Hijuelos is an old-fashioned novelist...In "Empress of the Splendid Season" he has written a story with a lesson--he is telling us how to live."-- "Miami Herald""It's refreshing, in these times of great American prosperity to read a novel about people who are just plain poor. Hijuelos is telling a story about small people, but in his skillful hands, they carry big ideas."-- "USA Today""A richly narrated novel...explores with passion. . .the strange workings of life, love [and] family."-- "Elle""It is hard not to love Lydia Espana."-- "Boston Globe""Oscar Hijuelos's powerful, subtle 'Empress' probes the mysteries of the soul. Hijuelos is a story teller...Along the way he beguiles you with anecdotes, vignettes, memories, dreams, reflections and revelations, in prose that is at times lyrical, at times colloquial, and always lucid."-- "San Diego Union-Tribune""A very human, eminently readable, and very funnybook."-- "National Review""Oscar Hijuelos's fifth novel is in many ways his most personal. . . . In the same lush yet disciplined prose that characterizes his best writing, Hijuelos evokes a personal landscape that proves even moe revealing and more affecting. . . . "-- R"ichmond Times Dispatch""This novel is beautifully evocative of a splendid empress, her culture, her time and her past."-- "Cleveland Plain Dealer""Empress tells the tale of Lydia Espana through short scenes spanning several decades. What emergesis a poignant portrait of a proud woamn who maintains her dignity despite the hard hand life has dealt her. . . a love note to the 'upper class poor'. . . . "-- "San Diego Union Tribune"
The Barnes & Noble Review
The Bolero King Plays Songs of Love
"In 1957 when her beloved husband, Raul, had fallen ill, Lydia Espana went to work, cleaning the apartments of New Yorkers much better off than herself." So begins Oscar Hijuelos's splendid new novel, Empress of the Splendid Season. For the next 40 years, Hijuelos's Cuban-born heroine will continue her humble career, inadvertently discovering the secrets of a long succession of eccentric Manhattanites while mopping and dusting their apartments.
The book's title is from a poem Raul composed one night dancing with Lydia before they were married. "Ever formal and attentive to Lydia, [Raul] remained the gentleman, at first preferring the slow dances, the boleros and ballads, over the mambos and cha-cha-chas, and, though he was not a romantic sort, the right piece of music, say 'Dulce Engano' ('Sweet Deception'), could bring out the poet hiding in his soul...." (Aha Hijuelos is teaching a different style of Latin dance in this novel. Perhaps he even considered calling it The Bolero King Plays Songs of Love.) As Raul dances, reveling in the scent of Lydia's hair, he proclaims that she is the "Empress" presiding over the "splendid season" of love.
Oscar Hijuelos himself feels a little exiled from that song and season. "When you move away from the mythology of love, no matter how well you do in life, there's always a little bit of loneliness," he told me on the phone. He quoted his book's epigraph, from Milton, "Loveliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good...." Hijuelos then elaborated on his melancholy:"Imyself often feel extremely lonely. I mean, it's the nature of my work, solitude. But also I lament the passing of the idea of a community which I could easily fit in."
The community he means is a Cuban-American one. His parents left Cuba for Manhattan in the 1940s, and Hijuelos was born in Spanish Harlem in 1951. "There are strong Cuban-American communities in Miami and New Jersey," he said. "But here in New York, I live in a much more fragmented world in the sense that I belong to many communities and at the same time not solidly to any one."
I was quiet, then joked, "In other words, you're a typical New Yorker."
Hijuelos laughed. And why not? The city is the centerpiece of this book, as Lydia becomes witness to the crazy lives of those who live here. As a cleaning woman, her first clients include a spooky guy whose bathroom wall is covered with upside-down crucifixes and a prim gentleman who one day accidentally leaves pornographic photographs scattered in his bedroom, and a classic Hijuelos touch a frightened cat under the bed. Then Lydia begins her decades-long association with the enigmatic Mr. Osprey described as a dead ringer for Eisenhower who lives in a town house that takes up an entire city block. By the end of her career, after experiencing her neighborhood upheavals during the Columbia University strikes of the '60s, Lydia ends up cleaning for a woman who keeps semi-magical greyhounds in little cages in the living room.
Hijuelos admitted that a number of these stories were based on reality. For example, he knew someone who hung rows of crucifixes upside down along a bedroom wall. Lydia has a reminiscence set in Cuba that was based on what a Cuban lady once told Hijuelos: "She was with her very virginal great aunt in Havana. They saw Errol Flynn and the virginal aunt fainted."
Another Hollywood legend, James Mason, makes an appearance as Lydia glimpses the actor in front of a Manhattan hotel. "Yes, that really happened as well," Hijuelos explained. "I saw James Mason standing in front of the Plaza Hotel eating a sandwich, waiting for a car." Then he added, "Very gingerly eating a sandwich."
I tell the author that encountering a movie star in the flesh is the closest most of us ever come to experiencing magic realism. Hijuelos agreed. "Movie stars are the closest things we have to supernatural presence. The great thing about writing about Manhattan is that it's not implausible for Lydia to see James Mason. He appears as sort of a gleaming knight. There is a little undertone in the book that it's sort of a fairy tale. That's why I introduce these larger-than-life characters to emphasize the more romantic or fairy tale aspects of the story."
This talk of James Mason made me want to know about Hijuelos's Hollywood experiences with The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love. "It's a crazy thing," he told me. "You sit around one day idly writing a scene wondering, Will anyone ever read this? And a year later see it up on a screen." Hijuelos even appeared as one of the extras. "There's a funeral scene, and I'm sort of in the crowd milling about." He laughed. "James Mason I'm not."
He then half modestly, half pleased with himself named a number of other movie stars he's met in the flesh. "But you know, the person who excited me most was García Márquez." Hijuelos met the abuelo of all magic realists at the White House during a recent reception for the Colombian president. "Márquez made my day because he told me he loved The Mambo Kings," Hijuelos said with pride, adding, "It's really a thrill to be in contact with a historical personage who is really personally meaningful as opposed to just being a movie star."
Later, while talking about writers we knew and what we were reading, Hijuelos said something that really illuminated his character for me. "I'm a real biography fan. I just finished reading Stefan Zweig's biography of Marie Antoinette (now out-of-print). I'm reading his biography of Balzac. I love reading biographies best because I love seeing the dynamics and curve of people's lives being laid out."
His words made me suddenly understand Empress of the Splendid Season better. As a novel that follows a woman's entire life, it's really a fictional biography. (Or perhaps the real biography of a woman who is only a fictional character.) Either way, this woman did not live just a single life. "Lydia is always thinking of her other past, that alternate one if she had stayed in Cuba," Hijuelos explained. "James Mason both symbolizes the husband she would have had if she'd stayed in Cuba as well as her ideal fantasy of life in America."
Hijuelos was living two lives as well: "I still dream about a boyhood trip to pre-Castro Cuba. If not for a quirk of fate, that is where I would have been born. I would have had my father's childhood experience of growing up on a Cuban farm." Hijuelos revealed that he was as obsessed with James Mason as he was with his doppelgänger's life in Cuba. "I've always kind of liked James Mason the actor," the author said. "Matter of fact, once upon a time I almost wrote a book called The Man Who Thought He was James Mason."
That said, swear to God, Hijuelos has to answer the door to let in his...cleaning lady. I don't ask her name. Lydia Espana is surely just a fictional creation. But perhaps she is also as metaphysical as James Mason. Who knows? In Manhattan, anything can happen....
David Bowman
A richly narrated novel...explores with passion...the strange workings of life, love, [and] family.
There are no boundaries to Hijuelos' writing.
True beauty, [Hijuelos] suggests,lies in the small moments of a "decent, genteel, low-key" life. People Magazine
A slow dance, an elegy to a cleaning woman,that continues the author's celebraton of his Cuban roots. A character endowed with romantic yearnings, Lydia moves with stoic grace through the decades...Emotional fine tuning and pitch-perfect prose.
Finely detailed, funny, sweet...a deliberately simple story graced with the power of the ordinary.
Simply Splendid...In Empress of the Splendid Season, Hijuelos lovingly suggests, true beauty lies in the small moments of a 'decent, genteel, low-key'life...
Nobody writes better about sensual life than Hijuelos, and Empress resounds with sights, tastes, humming ambience...His best novel since his Pulitzer-winning The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love.
Exuberantly written...Hijuelos is an old-fashioned novelist...In Empress of the Splendid Season he has written a story with a lessonhe is telling us how to live.
It's refreshing, in these times of great American prosperity to read a novel about people who are just plain poor. Hijuelos is telling a story about small people, but in his skillful hands, they carry big ideas.
A richly narrated novel...explores with passion. . .the strange workings of life, love [and] family.
It is hard not to love Lydia Espana.
Oscar Hijuelos's powerful, subtle 'Empress' probes the mysteries of the soul. Hijuelos is a story teller...Along the way he beguiles you with anecdotes, vignettes, memories, dreams, reflections and revelations, in prose that is at times lyrical, at times colloquial, and always lucid.
A very human, eminently readable, and very funny book.
Oscar Hijuelos's fifth novel is in many ways his most personal. . . . In the same lush yet disciplined prose that characterizes his best writing, Hijuelos evokes a personal landscape that proves even moe revealing and more affecting. . . .
This novel is beautifully evocative of a splendid empress, her culture, her time and her past.
Empress tells the tale of Lydia Espana through short scenes spanning several decades. What emergesis a poignant portrait of a proud woamn who maintains her dignity despite the hard hand life has dealt her. . . a love note to the 'upper class poor'. . . .
Rita Moreno is a delight, bringing [Empress of the Splendid Season] to life with joy and strength.
The dialogue in Empress is clever and the portraits charming...Hijuelos is at his best depicting everyday folks treading water between the old world and the new.
Time Out New York
This is a novel about frustrated hope: the hope of an immigrant who never manages to assimilate, and the hope of a young woman for whom life didn't turn out as planned. Hijuelos is telling a small story about small people, but in his skillful hands, they carry big ideas.
USA Today
Hijuelos' episodic format doesn't quite gel. But that is more than offset by his emotional fine tuning and pitch-perfect prose.
Time Magazine
It is hard not to love Lydia Espana.
...[A] chronicle of familial love that unfurls in New York over the last five decades...an altogether smaller, more modest book [that his previous novels] less fecund in its peopling of a fictional world....the novel is not without its rewards...
The New York Times
...[T]he splendid season is, of course, a time of love....the pivotal crises of Lydia's life...comes from the struggle between her instinct for self-invention and her inability to invent a suitable self....The New York that emerges...is as layered as Lydia's innter life....The city both echoes and shapes her moods.
The New York Times Book Review
...[A] very human, eminently readable, and very funny book.
National Review
Exuberantly written...Hijuelos is an old-fashioned novelist...In Empress of the Splendid Season he has written a story with a lesson he is telling us how to live.
Pulitzer-winner Hijuelos (Mr. Ives' Christmas) offers up a slow-moving but sometimes poignant slice-of-lifer about a Cuban-American family from the 1940s onward.
The beautiful Lydia Espana was born in pre-Castro Cuba, a privileged child with a businessman father who was a model of small-town elegance; and also of a fierce rectitude that made him turn violently against his daughter when she came into her own sexuality and slept one night with a musician. Off she's sent, alone, to New York City, where at first she supports herself as a seamstress; until one night at a party in 1949 she meets her future husband, the stylish Raul, who's working there as a waiter. Though he's ten years her senior, the love is real, marriage follows, and so do two children, Alicia and Rico. Happiness enough blesses the family; until Raul collapses one day on a restaurant floor amid a clatter of dishes and trays, never again to be free of a debilitatingly weak heart that will keep him from returning to his job; with the result that Lydia must be the breadwinner, doing so as that lowliest of workers, the cleaning lady. Years and then decades pass, a touch of Horatio Alger visits the book as an East Side advertising man Lydia cleans for proves wildly benevolent, and there are touches, too, of authorial tendentiousness when Hijuelos lets his theme of poverty versus wealth break through his novel's real tone ("earning in a week what a chichi Soho artist will piss away on a lunch with friends at the Four Seasons").
Most of the time, though, as usual, the author shows himself one of our most affectionate chroniclers of the city's less favored neighborhoods as the '60s come and go, then the '70s, and as theEspana family passes; with dignity intact; through time, life, work, sorrow, and love. Sturdy truths and honest humanity in another look at life, ala Hijuelos.