While I enjoyed Urrea's soaring prose, humour, and characters, I found the story wanting in direction. I found myself wanting him to abandon the historical altogether. ( )

Urrea picks up where he left off in The Hummingbird’s Daughter and continues the story of his great aunt, Teresita Urrea, “The Saint of Cabora” or “Mexican Joan of Arc,” who fled the 1892 uprising in Mexico with her father, Tomas, to the relative safety of Arizona. But the Mexican government, fearing that she was still fomenting revolutions sent a series of assassins to kill her. And yet pilgrims continued to flock to her, for the tales of her healing powers would not abate.

Trying to find her way she travels across America, from Arizona to Texas, California, St Louis, and New York. She encounters physicians, journalists, famous politicians and tycoons, even European royalty. She also finds love … of a sort … sometimes with decidedly unworthy men. She begins as a naïve, sheltered young woman who wants nothing but to gather herbs and help the women of her area as a midwife / healer. Teresita is in turns sheltered and looked after, abused, taken advantage of, earning and taking charge of her celebrity, and finding peace. She is best served when she listens to the women around her.

As always, Urrea’s writing is full of the mystical and includes many references to indigenous culture (here the Yaqui). Set against the backdrop of historical events in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he gives us a woman who has earned a place in history and legend. ( )

Real talk: it's been long enough since last reading The Hummingbird's Daughter, so I've lost a little of the plot. I also listened to this over the course of a cross-country move and packing/unpacking, so I've been a little distracted to say the least. But I did enjoy it and it kept me company during many ordeals, and for that it will hold a special place. The descriptions of Teresita's travels are what grounded me every time, and that ending is gorgeous. ( )

I don't understand why more LTers haven’t read and loved this book. It's the sequel to the equally well-written story of one of the author's ancestors in The Hummingbird's Daughter. Teresita, aka The Saint of Cabora because of her healing skills, has to flee Mexico with her father Tomas because of the dictator's fear of her power. They are hounded by assassins and the ubiquitous pilgrims who want to touch her or just gaze upon her to get her blessing. Teresita did not consider herself a saint but believed that God used her as a medium for His healing. She was also a blossoming young woman who was swept away by the first love of her life with disastrous results. This led to a falling-out with her eccentric father and her journey across America starting in San Francisco and ending up in New York City. What a great way to see the country at the turn-of-the-century.

I listened to the book narrated by the author which led an air of authenticity and also helped me with the Spanish words. Urrea brings the past to life in a way that balances the tragedy, humor, and the different cultures of Mexico and the United States. He is a fine author who transported me to a different time and several different locales. He can write the gritty stuff well but also has a tenderness that eases his readers into the metaphysical and, yes, even a few love scenes. I wish I had his wonderful way with words to do justice to this intriguing tale of exile, courage, and faith. ( )

Like sweet nothings whispered by my lover to leave my marriage bed, to dalliance with her, I listened, spending the day enamored with Teresita, ‘Saint of Cabora’, until my wife accused me of an affair with the book and then I could not leave it alone until it was done and dusted.
Intended as a sequel to his other work, The Hummingbird’s Daughter, this novel stands alone in its own glory. Here, Urrea takes us on a journey with young Teresita, accompanied by her willful father, Tomas, as they leave their family ranch in Mexico where she is adored by many as a saint and pursued by others who saw her as the leader of rebellion, of change. Her father’s politics and her laying on of hands to heal caused mixed reactions in all they touched.
Along with their entourage, publishing mogul and rebel-rouser Don Lauro Aguirre and Segundo the trusted friend, the family moves to protect the Saint and to allow her to find the weary pilgrims, the sick and dying and instill hope whether it be in Yaquis, native to the area, or the son of rich businessmen travelling from afar, Teresita uses her powers, embodied in her after a near death experience as a child, as well as her healer’s knowledge of plants and roots, to heal all and sundry.
In an historical journey through Tucson, El Paso, San Francisco and back East to New York City we learn with great detail how this great land was tethered by rail and how commerce and religion where joined through newspapers to spread the word. We learn how a revered healer can be seen as a witch under other religious customs and we follow their plight through all its trials and tribulations. Not since John Galworthy wrote about the Forsyths has a saga of a family been so documented.
From his humble beginnings to now revered storyteller, this masterpiece elevates Urrea to a class above his peers, a first class, nay master class writer, who lays the narrative with poetic license at our feet, painting postcards with paragraphs. If Teresita is the Queen then surely, today, Urrea is King.
( )