Ever since I started writing my mystery and adventure series, the Mendoza Family Saga, I've been writing about Christopher Columbus, the Genoese who led a motley crew of Spanish and Catalan soldiers and sailors across the "Ocean Sea" in 1492 (appointed Admiral by King Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile, who united Spain by conquering Muslim Granada and expelling all the Spanish Jews in the same year); the indigenous Taino people Columbus and his forces encountered in the Caribbean; and Diego and Rachel Mendoza, my fictional Jewish brother and sister caught between them.
In the first story, "The Green Cross," published in
Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and nominated for an Agatha Award for Best Short Story, the Admiral is Diego's mentor and protector. But once he plants the Green Cross banner on the first Caribbean isle, claiming it “in the names of their most Christian Majesties and the Savior” (in the first Mendoza novel,
Voyage of Strangers), the lines are clearly drawn.
Wherever the Mendozas go, Christians are the bad guys. The good guys are Jews and indigenous peoples, Muslims in the Ottoman Empire where the family eventually settles, and others whom today we would call marginalized peoples, such as the Roma, whom Diego and Rachel encounter in their travels. In writing about the genocide of the Taino, I’ve learned that today, surviving descendants in Puerto Rico, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic who carry their DNA are reconstructing their cultural heritage and language. It's hard to wipe a people out completely. (Thanks to DNA matching services, I've learned that, in spite of the Holocaust in the 20th century, segments of Ashkenazic Jewish DNA identical to mine are walking around in relatives in forty-eight different countries.) In "A Matter of Perspective," a novelette published in
Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, I enjoyed telling the story of Suleiman the Magnificent's conquest of Rhodes in 1522 as a victory. If you google the two-year-siege, you'll find it in our Eurocentric sources as the defeat of the Knights of Rhodes, which led to their becoming the Knights of Malta. This is not to say that Suleiman the Magnificent was a pussycat or that all Christians were bad guys even in the era of the Inquisition. But as survivors, the Mendozas are adaptable. As outsiders, they have a fresh perspective. And it is not surprising that, as intelligent people, they are cultural relativists.
In a few weeks, I'll be guest speaker at a lit class at the famed 92nd Street Y in New York. The professor is a guy I've known for seventy-five years (since third grade, if you must know). This time around, he's chosen the theme of "gallows humor" in Jewish mystery short stories, using examples from the anthology
Jewish Noir II, edited by Ken Wishnia and Chantelle Aimée Osman, to which I contributed my Mendoza story, "The Cost of Something Priceless." It has a bit of a sixteenth-century frame story involving Rachel, a necklace she's bringing from the Ottoman Empress to the Queen of France, and bandits. But the heart of the story has my protagonist, one of Rachel's twentieth-century descendants, saying everything I always wanted to say about sexism and anti-Semitism in the 1950s, woven into a tale of theft, intrigue, and revenge.
All of my
Mendoza Family Saga stories can be found in
Rachel in the Harem.
Voyage of Strangers is available for Kindle.
Journey of Strangers is available in both paperback and e-book editions.
