Amazon.com Review
True love and international affairs make strange bedfellows indeed. Ted Mooney's novel
Singing into the Piano begins with two lovers, Edith and Andrew, engaging in some
very heavy petting under the table while attending a political banquet in New York. The speaker is Santiago Diaz, a former soccer star and candidate for president of Mexico, and since Edith and Andrew's table is located directly in front of him, he can't help but notice what is going on. Later, when he finds the purse Edith left behind and returns it to her, Diaz draws the American couple into his own world of Mexican politics, economics, and danger. Invited to visit Diaz and his wife at their home in Mexico, Andrew and Edith find themselves first seduced by the glamour of a political campaign and then increasingly endangered by a skein of conspiracy, violence, and death. Not only has Mooney come up with an intriguing and fast-moving story, he has also penned a provocative meditation on the state of an increasingly interrelated world at the end of the 20th century.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Publishers Weekly
In the brilliant opening scene of this thought-provoking novel from Art in America editor Mooney (Easy Travel to Other Planets), political attorney Andrew and his exhibitionist girlfriend Edith distract Mexican presidential candidate Santiago Diaz by their erotic play at a fund-raiser. Santiago and his wife, Mercedes, identify with the lovers, and Andrew and Edith find themselves the candidate's house guests during an explosive rift within his campaign over the plight of factory workers. Edith's exhibitionism and Andrew's amorous complicity keep them at the edge of trouble. Meanwhile, in the rain forest, one of Andrew's clients, a primatologist, is in danger from loggers with connections to Mexican political bosses?and to Andrew and Edith's friend James, an art dealer who has been laundering illicit logging money. James is in Mexico too, at the bidding of Marisa, a photographer and logging heiress who has persuaded Santiago, Mercedes, Andrew and Edith to pose together in another of the novel's many variations on the theme of our deep, animal need to expose ourselves. Mooney brings a deft, if sometimes too cerebral, touch to his task, juxtaposing human display (art-gallery patrons and power seekers) with the animal kind (a monkey run amok in the apartment of a primatologist's dead patroness, fighting cocks, yawping beasts in a public market). It adds up to an intelligent, amusing performance.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.