A Beauty that Hurts: Life and Death in Guatemala (review)

Over the last year I helped the director of the Masters in Development Practice (MDP) program at the University of Denver create a field class in Guatemala. That field class, or a practice class that puts the "p" in the MDP, puts students in the field in Guatemala for almost three months. As we wrestled our pickup truck on the back roads of the department of Quiché, Dan, the director of the MDP, asked for a reading list to prepare students for their time in Guatemala. Like all of us who have worked in a country for several decades, I could have provided Dan with an annotated bibliography that would guarantee glazed eyes on even the most animated graduate student. However, when pushed to suggest one readable work that accurately and emotionally depicts Guatemala's past and present, I immediately turned to George's masterpiece, now in its third edition. Indeed, when anyone asks me to recommend a book to bring them up to date on Guatemala, the only book I can recommend is A Beauty That Hurts. Non-academic friends, university colleagues, students, and family all receive the same advice from me – "get a copy and read it before you go, take it with you, and read it again while in Guatemala." Also, I tell folks, all royalties from the sale of this book help support educational opportunities in Guatemala though the Maya Educational Foundation.

Why do I recommend this book to so many people? And, why have I required this book in my Geography of Latin America, Revolution in Latin America, and Guatemala Field classes? Simply, it is the only book that provides readers with an understanding of Guatemala's complex colonial history and the continued struggle for survival in twenty-first century Guatemala. Yes, traditional books with titles like "A Short History of Guatemala" exist and provide us with a dry compendium of facts. But they fall short on readability because they cater to a very small academic audience. In contrast, W. George Lovell wrote (and continues to write and update) a book that eloquently captures Guatemala's past and present for many different audiences. In the preface George describes this outcome as part of his philosophical outlook:

"The flip side of privilege [the life of a university professor] is responsibility: responsibility to oneself, to one's family and friends, to the people and places we cherish and love, to the ideals we hope to live by … I have never felt comfortable with certain academic conventions. Among those that trouble me the most is the bent that views scholarly work as a kind of cabal, as the ability to engage with a select group of fellow intellectuals in conversation or print … the academy revels in exclusion…so it was that, early in my career as a professor, I began to lead a double life, publishing research findings that cater to more erudite tastes while at the same time producing the odd essay, review, or opinion piece for media with more public terms of reference…this book is an attempt to link and integrate the two" (p. x).

W. George Lovell's attempt is successful. A Beauty that Hurts is a serious academic book that is written in such an engaging style that it appeals to all readers. The section at the end of the book entitled "Sources and Commentary," provides a comprehensive annotated bibliography to provide interested readers with all the relevant information when it comes to Guatemala. Even this "more academic" section of the book is an illustration of George's ability to convey a complex and large subject area in a succinct and simple fashion. Yet, at the same time, it is comprehensive. George does not miss a published piece in his review of the literature. Moreover, with every new edition Lovell uses the epilogue wisely to...