SACRAMENT

A Covid-19 novel but also so much more.

Opening during the spring of 2020, this book refracts the early days of the pandemic with the acuity of a laser, not unlike Straight’s previous novel, Mecca (2022). But if this is the situation of the narrative, its story is the complexity of love and longing, the edgy insistence of the human heart. Straight begins by focusing on three Covid nurses—Cherrise, Larette, and Marisol—who for the safety of their families have been moved to a small trailer park erected near the hospital where they work in the ICU. “They say we’re gonna get it under control. I’ll be back to get you in August,” Cherrise tells her 15-year-old daughter, Raquel, after leaving her with relatives. And yet, it is impossible to read this exchange without recalling the fear and trembling of that moment, in which time felt as if it had lost its shape. Straight makes this idea explicit by reintroducing Highway Patrol officer Johnny Frias, a major character in Mecca, who comes to play a significant role in this new work after Raquel disappears. Don’t be misled, though: This is no mere sequel, but what we might imagine as a parallel text, an adjacent set of stories taking place in a world where linearity, chronology, have become words from a different lexicon. This simultaneity makes the relationship between the novels nuanced and compelling, a broadening rather than a lengthening. It’s an astonishing move, one that feels true both to the moment of the action and the moment in which we are reading, the aftermath of a crisis, or a series of crises, that has not fully gone away.

Straight reminds us of where we have been and where we are going without once looking away.