American way.

North of midtown Manhattan, in the shadow of the Empire State Building and other majestic skyscrapers in the self-named capital of the world, beyond the flash and glass of Wall Street and Broadway and a thousand romantic movies, it's hot as hell on the streets of the hardscrabble Hispanic neighborhood known as el barrio--Spanish Harlem.

Literally hot, as in on fire. In Ernesto Quinonez's fascinating new novel, riders on the New York Subway leave the city's dark underbelly and climb elevated rails to 125th Street, only to see rows of buildings charred black by flames. There's nothing left but shells where an entire neighborhood once sat.

At first, it's not hard to believe that such a cataclysm could befall this part of the city. Then, as the story progresses, the truth creeps up from the ashes: The tires were set decades ago by white-collar criminals to collect insurance policies on the buildings. Much like what happened to New York on Sept. 11, these acts were quite intentional.

Quinonez, author of the acclaimed Bodega Dreams, tells the tale of a young resident of el barrio who tries to get ahead amid the dizzying changes in this Latino corner of New York. Julio Santana is a laborer on a demolition crew by day, university student by night, and pyromaniac in the wee hours of the morning. To escape from poverty and to help buy his parents an apartment, Julio works clandestinely as an arsonist-for-hire, under the orders of Eddie Naglioni, a guy with no scruples who has, in turn, been hired by real-estate investors intent on gentrifying the neighborhood. Although Santana is benefiting from the transformation of the neighborhood, his own doubts--raised by ethical concerns and by uncertainty about the future of the neighborhood where he and many other humble workers grew up and now fight to survive--begin to get in the way of his get-rich-quick scheme.

The first-person narrative is one of the book's best attributes. Through Santana, one sees the picturesque, feverish and often tragic world of Hispanic New York, illustrated deftly by quick, slang-filled voices right off the streets. Quinonez demonstrates the dynamic relationship his characters have with the city itself. Although fictional, and possibly stereotypes, the characters often are valid depictions of Spanish Harlem archetypes.

Santana does everything he can to help his devoted mother and his father, a retired salsa musician, who have lost the will to keep fighting the many trials life deals them. He also has a chaotic relationship with Maritza, a childhood friend, a rebel and a socialist. Maritza leads a neighborhood church, which actually functions as a kind of front for undocumented migrants in need of papers.

Life force. Santana's life becomes more complicated when a non-Hispanic woman, Helen, arrives in el barrio, replete with artistic leanings and liberal ideas, and he falls in love with her. To solve his problems, Santana seeks out Papelito, a Santaria spiritual leader who talks of the life force of the Africa-rooted religion: Chango's fire.

As he meets the various characters that inhabit the streets of his neighborhood, Santana begins to face his own deep suspicions about the radical change the neighborhood is undergoing. Despite being one of the agents of this change by burning buildings condemned by speculators, Santana wants the area to stay as it always has been, with its charming inhabitants and out-of-the way stores. The dilemma becomes even more urgent as Eddie blackmails him to perform one last destructive act.

With its sharp and distinctive prose, Chango's Fire goes beyond one New York neighborhood to become a reflection of a trend that repeats across the United States as the abandoned hearts of its cities are renovated to accommodate a new, well-to-do class of people, and the longtime inhabitants must pack their bags and leave.