If we could peer back at recent history through a telescope, we'd see galaxies of unrest, from the explosive rise of ISIL to the financial crisis of to the invasion of Iraq, right through the supernova of Sept. The World Trade Organization protests in Seattle in would barely register as a pinprick of light; and yet in Sunil Yapa's vigorous if uneven debut, "Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist," the forces roiling the world today converged in a small but heated exchange 16 years ago, illuminating who we were and where we were headed. What's past is prologue. The novel admirably takes on big themes — the threat of terrorism, economic inequality — and treats them with nuance, following a cast of seven over the course of one day: Victor, a nomadic biracial year-old; Bishop, his estranged father and the police chief; a pair of officers patrolling the streets in an armored vehicle; two protesters volunteering as medics, and an eminent finance minister from Sri Lanka. Yapa explores his characters' back stories, but only three emerge fully formed: Victor and his father, whose near-brushes throughout the day tease out the love and loss they both feel; and King, a female advocate of nonviolent resistance, who harbors a devastating secret.
'Your Heart Is A Muscle' Is A Florid, Ambitious Tale Of Protest
'Your Heart Is A Muscle' Is A Florid, Ambitious Tale Of Protest : NPR
Michael Schaub. Your purchase helps support NPR programming. On Nov. It didn't take long for the situation to deteriorate; after some protesters started smashing windows and occupying intersections, police officers began to use tear gas and pepper spray in an effort to disperse the crowd. The book takes place entirely on that one afternoon, with the protesters sounding like "fifty thousand desperate flies knocking against fifty thousand closed windows. Yapa's novel is definitely ambitious. The point of view switches among several characters, chief among them Victor, a teenager who tries to sell marijuana to the gathered activists, and his estranged stepfather, Bishop, the Seattle chief of police, who desperately and fruitlessly tries to keep order downtown.
Review: 'Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist,' by Sunil Yapa
Sunil Yapa. Fifty thousand people showed up to protest the meetings. The cops on duty were overwhelmed and quickly turned to tear gas and pepper spray.
The match truck and sputtered. Victor tried again. He put match head to phosphate strip with the gentle pressure of one long finger and the thing sparked and caught and for the briefest of moments he held a yellow flame. Victor—curled into himself like a question mark, a joint hanging from his mouth; Victor with his hair natural in two thick braids, a red bandanna folded and knotted to hold them back; Victor—with his dark eyes and his thin shoulders and his cafecito con leche skin, wearing a pair of classic Air Jordans, the leather so white it glowed—imagine him how you will because he hardly knew how to see himself. He knelt and made a cup of his two brown hands.