Santa Olivia

Santa Olivia by Jaqueline Carey defies description. It’s best categorized as a hybrid YA-romance-urban fantasy-thriller. I have heard excellent things about Ms. Carey’s writing and so decided to up this book on my reading list. While it is enjoyable, I didn’t find it completely believable.

Santa Olivia is located in a “no man’s land” between Mexico and the US, when it was cordoned off during a pandemic. Santa Olivia is a military outpost and the locals have no hope of ever leaving this highly secured area–in fact, the rest of the world doesn’t even know they exist. Computers, television, and other luxuries are practically mythical.

The story begins with Carmen Garron, a waitress who falls in love twice. The first time she bears her son Tommy, and the second time her daughter Loup. However, her daughter is very different–she is stronger, faster, and feels no fear–traits she inherited from her father Martin. Martin is a legendary “Lost Boy”, the victim of genetic experimentation in Haiti. He is clearly different from the other villagers and when suspicions arise, Martin is forced to leave town, though not before he explains to Carmen and Tommy what Loup will become and how to best protect her. As she grows, Tommy does his best to tell her to be careful. This involves not telling anyone about her father, and watching her actions. Loup moves preternaturally fast and must slow down in order to look like a regular person. She also has to think about consequences, since she lacks fear.

Eventually, Carmen dies, and Loup must live in the local orphanage.  She creates a sort of vigilante team, with herself doing the most dangerous feats while taking up the mantle of “Santa Olivia”, the city’s patron child-saint.

Santa Olivia is also centered on boxing, which is the only way to get a ticket out. There are regular boxing matches held by the general, and the winner is given two tickets out of Santa Olivia. Many locals try for this prize, but the story really turns when Lou begins training for it herself. There are some excellent scenes, like when Loup is finally unveiled as the “mystery contestant”:

The crowd quieted, uncertain, seeing only a smaller-than-expected figure in a vivid blue robe. She pushed back her hood. It could have been a loose white kerchief slipping from her hair.

The soldiers in the bleachers erupted in howls of laughter, hoots of derision, and catcalls of disappointment. But among the Outposters in the square, there was a hush as her name went around, its meaning dawning on them…

And on the heels of that revelation, a second significance dawned. A girl in a blue dress; a girl in a blue robe.

“Santa Olivia!” someone shouted.

Others took up the cry. “Santa Olivia! Santa Olivia!”

I thoroughly enjoyed Ms. Carey’s twist on the whole werewolf theme. Tommy affectionately refers to Loup as lou garou (french for werewolf), and she is stronger, faster, etc., but from genetic mutation rather than any sort of supernatural means.  Loup’s attraction and eventual relationship with Pilar is absolutely beautiful because it is so different from the standard, and Ms. Carey simply treats it as it should be–absolutely normal.

The downside was that I felt the characters were cliched. Tommy plays the concerned and good-natured “big brother”, becoming embarrassed when Loup unabashedly tells him she learned about sex. Loup’s coach is a gruff, taciturn man whose only love is boxing. Miguel Garza is a street-thug-turned-friend, who slowly warms up to Loup as they becoming sparring partners. Further, it was repeated over and over how Loup had to be “careful” and keep her identity secret–only to have her blab to the first kid that’s nice to her at the orphanage, who of course turns around and tells the rest of the orphans. Later, as she begins training, she nonchalantly tells both her coach and and another boxer about her big secret: “I dunno exactly..It’s some kind of genetic engineering thing. My dad was an experiment who ran away…”

Finally, Loup’s first act as Santa Olivia is vengeance for fellow orphan Katya, who is raped by a solider. I understand it would have to be something huge in order to push her (and the other orphans) towards their first vigilante act, but I thought it was a cheap way of achieving those means.

This is especially true as another act of “Santa Olivia” is to punish a dog killer. Yup, a soldier who maliciously killed a dog. An evil dog killer. If the vigilante acts continued to punish rapists, murderers, etc., that would be one thing, but the sudden downgrade from humiliating a rapist to punishing a dog killer leaves quite a bit in between.

Overall, an average read but extra points for simply being so different (werewolf-esque, boxing, etc.). I wonder if the author’s clout alone makes this a popular book–fans will definitely be flocking to pick this up, though I wonder if it will be as acclaimed as the Kushiel series.