From Publishers Weekly
A young Cuban writer faces the end of socialism in a dull reprise of that old chestnut, two men in an open boat at sea. These two are refugees not from a sinking ship but from a sinking state, from which they have purloined the raft, property of the Cuban Air Force. To drive home the allegory, the boat is called The Social Contract. Never one to paint in color when black and white will do, Hernandez Diaz pits the two men against each other as types: one intellectual, the other not; one weak, the other strong; one a thinker, the other a drinker. The artist, in whose voice the story is told, brings a bag of books with him into the life raft as his most precious possession and dreams of making it on the international art circuit. His companion, a sailor named Angel, dreams of what sailors dream of?a splurge in Miami, wads of cash, female attention. The narrative is divided into the seven days of their futile passage across the strait between Cuba and Florida. Considering the brevity of the trip, the judgmental, narcissistic, lily-livered artist proves himself to be remarkably annoying. So does the book. As an allegory, it is heavy-handed, and as a story of men at sea, it is a thrice-told tale.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
While many of us have read Cuban writers in exile, this is a rare opportunity to read the literature of young, contemporary authors living in Cuba. Cuban writer and screenwriter Hern ndez D!az debuts in English with this first novel, a psychological account of two young men attempting to flee Cuba on a stolen raft (subsequently christened The Social Contract). The two passengers could not be more differentAthe narrator, a 24-year-old well-educated, sensitive artist, and Angel, the sex-obsessed boyfriend of the narrator's sister. With the protagonists having so little in common, the journey becomes an interior one, as the narrator meditates on art, socialism, literature, and film. When conditions worsen (in error, the narrator jettisons the water supply instead of his supply of 16 favorite books), the meditations become more wild but are always infused with a strong, deprecating sense of humor. Winner of the 1996 National Young Cuban Writers Award, this literate, ironic, and poignant novel is highly recommended for public and academic collections.AMary Margaret Benson, Linfield Coll. Lib., McMinnville, OR
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.