Costa Rican tales

In Short

This collection presents short stories set in the lush, rugged landscape of Costa Rica. Through the lens of provincial life, it explores how political fervor and religious devotion shape—and often dismantle—the lives of ordinary citizens. Whether depicting the chaotic search for a miraculous saint or the tragic fallout of a failed revolutionary coup, the book remains a poignant study of human fallibility. It has endured as a vivid, unvarnished window into a society navigating the tension between ancient tradition and the shifting tides of modernity.

The Story

The collection opens with the curious case of a traveling statue, San Jerónimo, whose presence in various villages inevitably triggers disorder, drunkenness, and violence. Local authorities are confounded until an experienced corporal, Pedro Villalta, cunningly apprehends the "saint" and secures him in the police barracks, winning a wager against skeptical officials. This atmosphere of superstition and local intrigue gives way to a broader examination of political life in "Politics," which follows 'Nor Juan Alvarez, the gamonal (leading citizen) of the village of San Miguel.

Juan is a man of his word, but he finds his loyalties fractured during a heated election. Caught between the local jefe político and the manipulative promises of the Nationalist party—who vow to abolish taxes on tobacco and brandy—Juan is further pressured by his family, who fear that opposing the Nationalist candidate is a heresy. When a charismatic, saintly-looking campaigner named Don Simeón arrives, the village is swept up in a tide of clerical fervor. Juan, despite his misgivings and financial strain, eventually throws his support behind the Nationalist cause. The victory, however, brings only ruin. The promised reforms never materialize, the village’s leadership remains corrupt, and Juan loses his beloved coffee plantation, La Lima, to an opportunistic neighbor. He leaves his home a broken man, clinging to a fragile hope that he still counts as one of the "good souls" of the world.

The final narrative, "Chivalry," shifts to the aftermath of a failed revolutionary uprising in the capital. Salvador Moreno, a refined man of conscience, flees into the mountains after participating in a bloody and abortive attempt to overthrow a dictator. His journey is marked by haunting memories of a young lieutenant he killed in the heat of combat. Seeking refuge in a remote house, Salvador is forced to act as a doctor for a woman in labor. Fate turns cruel when he learns that the house belongs to a man whose son was the very lieutenant he killed. The jefe político of the town—the woman’s husband—is tasked with handling the situation, leaving the reader to contemplate the collision of private duty and public tragedy. The narrative closes on the grim reality of the fugitive’s position, trapped by the consequences of his own revolutionary violence.

How It Unfolds

The hunt for the saint A series of bloody brawls follows the movement of a religious icon, prompting the governor to command its arrest. An old, sagacious corporal takes up the challenge, successfully capturing the saint and resolving a skeptical dispute among the town’s elite.

The village under tension In San Miguel, the gamonal Juan Alvarez is pressured by political agents to switch his support to the Nationalist party. His family and neighbors, stirred by rumors of religious persecution, fall under the spell of a demagogue, pushing the village toward political upheaval.

The price of victory The election results in a Nationalist win, but the expected prosperity never arrives. Juan suffers severe financial ruin, losing his farm to a neighbor who remained neutral, and is forced into exile with his family.

The revolutionary’s flight Following a failed coup, the intellectual Salvador Moreno hides in the countryside, haunted by the memory of a soldier he killed. His quest for anonymity fails when he is recognized by his host’s son-in-law, a local official linked to the man he slew.

The People

'Nor Juan Alvarez is the quintessential gamonal, a man of traditional values whose reputation and land are tied to his integrity. He represents the older generation, vulnerable to the manipulation of younger, more cynical political actors. Evaristo, his son, serves as a bridge to the new order, seduced by promises of change, while the "rustic philosopher" Toribio Cascante stands apart from the chaos, successfully navigating political shifts through cold pragmatism rather than ideology.

Salvador Moreno is a man of high-strung, refined sensibilities, whose idealistic desire to break a dictatorship leads him into a moral quagmire. He is the antithesis of the local officials who populate the stories—men like the jefe político who balances his duties with personal convenience. These characters are not heroes or villains in the traditional sense; they are individuals caught in a web of shifting power, often ending up disillusioned or destroyed by their attempts to act within a system that rewards the shrewd and punishes the earnest.

In Its Own Voice

"Any festival where he was present was sure to have a bad ending; with machete strokes and dagger thrusts almost always."

The narrator describes the recurring and violent unrest caused by the traveling image of San Jerónimo.

"The gamonal belonged to the old race of honest country people, who never were false to what they had once promised by tracing a cross and pulling out a hair from the beard."

This observation highlights the deep-seated, ritualistic honor system that guides Juan Alvarez’s life before he is caught in political crossfire.

"He tried to make himself believe that it was a legitimate act of warfare, but an internal voice cried out in the tribunal of his conscience against the blood that had been shed."

Salvador Moreno struggles with the psychological toll of his actions during the failed coup.

What It's Really About

The central concern of these stories is the fragility of communal stability in the face of political and religious agitation. The author examines how abstract, high-minded slogans—whether about "progress," "sovereignty," or "religion"—are weaponized to exploit the anxieties of rural people. The book questions whether a society can truly modernize when its political structures remain dominated by the same cycles of patronage and corruption. Ultimately, it asks if individual integrity can survive in a landscape where the "gentes del centro" (city people) continually manipulate the lives of the rural population to serve their own ephemeral ends.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a subtle, unromanticized depiction of Latin American history will find much to admire here. There is no sentimentality in these pages; the prose is direct and observant, capturing a specific period where the machete and the telegraph exist side by side. You will feel the heat of the sun in the coffee fields and the weight of the silence after a failed insurrection.

The book does not shy away from the harsh realities of the era—the casual brutality of local politics, the deep-seated superstitions of the peon class, and the grim, often arbitrary nature of authority. Modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes toward social hierarchy, which the author presents with a stark, journalistic detachment. Because the stories are rooted in a specific cultural moment, the dialect and local customs might feel unfamiliar at first, but the translator provides enough context to keep the narrative grounded. It is a slim, haunting work that lingers, not because of its scale, but because of its quiet, devastating honesty about how the grand ambitions of history can so easily shatter the lives of those living on the margins.