False War has the sort of title that suggests tension before you know anything else about it. That is usually a good sign.
Carlos Manuel Álvarez is not the kind of writer you approach expecting soft edges. Even from a distance, this looks like a book that intends to hold its ground. I tend to trust novels that project that kind of seriousness, especially when they come out of presses that are willing to publish work with a bit of nerve behind it.
There is a difference between a timely book and a durable one. The former reacts. The latter sees deeper. False War sounds like it is aiming for the second category, and that is almost always where my attention goes first.
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