We find ourselves in a small, isolated village in the Ecuadorian Andes. For generations, the village has taken its power from two sources:

The story opens when beautiful Magdalena Benavides, sporting the fair skin and blonde hair characteristic of her people, rides through town on her fine chestnut horse. She is observed by the "four old Pandos," the novel's Greek chorus of dark-skinned, grizzled men who sit on the park bench each day, smoking and discussing the town's history. Magdalena's ride is also observed by the local Communist newspaperman, Manuel Pando, who secretly loves her. Alas, Magdalena is a member of the family that Manuel despises. Even worse, she is the Virgin's handmaiden, doomed to wear a chastity belt and to some day sacrifice her long, golden locks. Apparently the sacred icon occasionally requires a new blonde wig to accompany the 53 annual changes of Her bejeweled gowns. Magdalena prays for a miracle: "Let me leave this godforsaken town."

Now you might think you know how this story goes, but you would probably be wrong. It diverges from today's formulaic USA-ian novels in ways that are as delightful as they are unexpected. Among the surprises: if there is a protagonist, it is neither of the star-crossed lovers, but rather the elderly Benavides widow Doña Carmen, who serves as the President of the Sisterhood of the Bead on the Gown of the Potbellied Virgin. Her machinations keep the people in a stranglehold of tradition that supports the rich vein between rich and poor that her people have mined for centuries. The true setting is the political, social and religious history of Ecuador, yet the tale is laced with enough ironic humor to leaven its weighty themes. Magdalena and even Manuel, although he is Doña Carmen's sworn enemy, fade into the background as a bitter struggle between the abuses of the past and the promises of the future brings the town to the brink of destruction.

Less like a novel than a vine that overwhelms a building, the story is tangled, intricate and beautiful. In lyrical language that defies convention by laying out the past and the present simultaneously, Cossío reveals a tapestry of Ecuadorian life that is both moving and amusing. Best of all, her revelations about humanity read true, no matter which continent you happen to read them on.

Born in Quito in 1928, Alicia Yánez Cossío is widely acknowledged as one of Ecuador's foremost contemporary novelists. She is the author of nine novels and has also published poetry, two collections of short stories, several children's books, and a memoir. Her short stories have been widely anthologized. In addition to her first novel, several of Yánez Cossío's short stories have been published in English translation. For more information on Alicia Yánez Cossío, or to read the introduction to, or an excerpt of The Pot-Bellied Virgin visit the University of Texas Press website.