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Alex Kurtagic's Mister
Review by Edmund Connelly

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Mister’s growing thirst amidst the heat of the airline cabin foreshadows the heat and dryness of Spain. On the plane, “He pressed the cabin call button once more. It had no effect. His throat itched with desiccated asperity.” And this is even before take-off (and a long delay in which passengers must deplane). Once in the air, he is prevented from buying two small cans of juice (at €20 a pop) because airline rules limit passengers to one can only. Musing about the past, Mister recalls, “The ordinary cup of yesteryear had fallen victim to the rising cost of potable water. With Southern England’s reservoirs now in permanent crisis, and water consumption subject to a battery of climate levies, any beverage containing water had become an Oriental luxury.”

Having finally arrived at the airport in Madrid, Mister encounters the use of Spanish — as does the reader. Here Kurtagic begins his gambit of scripting conversations in Spanish: “‘Pare. ¿No lleva equipaje?’ said the first número. ‘No. No llevo,’ he replied.”

These conversations continue sometimes for half a page, with translations in 7-point font at the bottom. While this is a burden for the reader, it does add to the sense of being in a foreign country, as well as in a world that doesn’t quite make sense. In addition, it is a harsh reminder that our own English-speaking world is shrinking (”Press one for English, two for Spanish.”) Further, this first encounter with Spanish is with two brutal members of the Guardia Civil, who constantly scream at Mister because he has brought no luggage with him. Can such a situation be far off for LAX?

Kurtagic spent some of his youth growing up in Latin America, so his command of Spanish is convincing. Further, he claims that many of the Madrid scenes he scripted were based on street life he observed in South America. If so, the rising tide of color bodes ill for those of us in the North.

Once out of the airport, the sense of claustrophobia and chaos only increases. Jammed into a cab, Mister is accosted by Europe’s Blade-Runner future. “A cacophony of horns suddenly erupted around them. The cabbie had decided to abandon the lane, but a driver on the target lane, a Mestizo in his thirties wearing a cowboy hat, had been determined not to allow him access.” A fight ensues:

“¡Te voy a matar, negro maricón!” screamed the Mestizo, with an Ecuadorian accent.

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