Erased Faces: A Novel

Erased Faces: A Novel

Erased Faces: A Novel

Erased Faces: A Novel


Fiction. Latino/a Studies. Weaving the threads of Lacandon myth and history with the events culminating in the guerilla uprising, Graciela Limon in ERASED FACES creates a rich fabric that restores an identity to those rendered invisible, or whose faces were erased by years of oppression. ERASED FACES is a story about forbidden love set against the backdrop of a complicated war. "What courage to take on the Chiapas rebellion, to tell that story from the point of view of women and their own double and triple struggles for liberation from not only a racial and economic war, but a sexual one..."-Alicia Gaspar de Alba, author of Sor Juana's Second Dream.


The Lacandona Jungle, Chiapas, Mexico, 1993.

Her ankle-length dress caught in the thick undergrowth. Her legs and bare feet were bleeding from cuts inflicted by roots and branches matting the muddy ground. She ran, plunging headlong into a snare of decaying plants, oblivious to the pain that shot up her ankles, through the calves of her legs, lodging deep in her thighs. She ran because she knew the dogs were gaining on her; she could hear their baying, and in seconds she began to sense their clumsy paws pounding the darkened jungle floor. Terrified, she ran, lunging forward, panting, her body covered with sweat and her face smeared with tears of dread.

She could not be sure, but she thought that there were others running alongside her. in the thick gloom of the forest, she caught sight of women running, desperately clinging to babies, tugging at children trying not to lose their way in the darkness. Long cotton dresses pulled at them as they plunged through the growth; straight, tangled hair stuck to their shoulders. She saw that those women were also afraid that the snarling dogs would catch them and tear them to pieces. Men were running, and they, too, were terrified—their brown, sinewy bodies pressed through the dense foliage, their loincloths snagged and ripped by gigantic ferns that reached out with deadly tentacles.

The Lacandón women and men ran because they understood that soon they would be overcome and devoured by the ravenous pursuers. She ran with them, but suddenly she stopped; her feet dug deep into the jungle slime as she halted abruptly. She began to turn in circles, arms rigidly outstretched, but she could see nothing; she was blinded . . .

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