At first glance, Cristina Henríquez's The Great Divide (March 5) is the story of the construction of the Panama Canal at the turn of the 20th century. But from the beautifully written narrative emerges a sweeping epic about empire and humanity, told through the perspective of the often-overlooked laborers, fishermen, doctors, and others who contributed to one of the world's most impressive feats of engineering. A starred review in Publishers Weekly called The Great Divide "enthralling...with the feel of a classic."

The Great Divide, along with a few other notable forthcoming books, is featured in the latest edition of Tertulia's First Dibs Editors Salon on February 13. Learn more about how to attend and get an advance preview of the book.

The book's acquiring editor at Ecco, Sara Birmingham, selected this book for the salon and shared this personal note with Tertulia readers.

The Great Divide by Cristina Henríquez (March 5)

A note from Sara Birmingham (Senior Editor at Ecco)

As a book editor, I spend much of my time chasing a particular sensation: the deep and strange feeling of loving a novel. For me, every cell in my body seems to be held in rapt attention, delighting in the newness of each sentence. But the feeling is a fickle one. There can be painful stretches when many accomplished manuscripts pass over my desk but somehow don’t generate that spark.

When I received Cristina Henríquez’s The Great Divide, I was in a long and disheartening slump. It was late on a weekday evening when I opened it up, and I was just trying to read enough to give my boss some quick preliminary thoughts the next morning.

On page 1, I met a Panamanian widow named Francisco, out fishing alone on the boat he’d carved himself. I could picture him in my mind’s eye as he skillfully cast his nets and looked back at his homeland. Foreign men were planning to slice this land in two and connect ocean to ocean with a mighty Canal—pure delusion, in Francisco’s mind. It was page 2 now, and I was having the feeling.

I stayed up late reading this sweeping epic, crying as I reached the ending we all learned in school: a boat did indeed sail through the Canal. Everything in the pages between was a revelation to me. Here I saw the lives of Panamanians who were sidelined in their own country, of laborers from the West Indies who risked life and limb digging the waterway, of scientists and activists and stowaways, of whole communities formed and changed by the tides of history.

Two years later, those characters still feel like beloved friends to me. And when I pick up the book, I still get the feeling all over again.

— Sara Birmingham is Senior Editor at Ecco.