I don't know what the title means, but it doesn't matter. The book itself is full of mystery, a slow and quiet suspense that draws the reader in. There's the mystery of the elusive Archimboldi, the obvious mystery of the murders in Mexico, the mystery of each life that passes through the pages, the mystery of life itself. Characters, even minor ones, begin talking and go off on a monologue or tale that seems to have nothing to do with the main story, but advances our understanding of the world in the way that both fables and reportage do, in their different ways.
Part Four, "The Part About the Crimes", differs from the other parts of the book in that it matter-of-factly describes murder after murder. Yes, mingled with these descriptions are investigations involving reporters and police, and other characters enter and occasionally deliver short monologues, but reading the factual descriptions of victim after victim becomes numbing. I kept on, not skipping over any, realizing this was done to convey the horror of these still-unsolved crimes, and to force us to remember these women - they each had a name, they each had individual characteristics, they're each gone.
Jonathan Lethem's
Bolan͂o's earlier novel The Savage Detectives
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