Fuentes's epic novel uses one woman's life and loves to sweep through 100 years of Mexican history. Laura Díaz – daughter, sister, wife, mother, lover – comes of age during the long, bloody Mexican revolution (1910-20). The execution of her half-brother Santiago (from one of four generations of Santiagos in the novel) by firing squad at the start of the revolution launches her political journey.

Laura has hardly a dull moment as Mexico heads towards becoming a modern nation. She witnesses, chronicles, discusses or participates in all the country's seminal political and cultural events of the 20th century, through to the early 1970s. Real-life luminaries such as artists Diego Rivera and his wife Frida Kahlo are also woven into the rich tapestry of Laura's life.

Fuentes's grand project encompasses Mexico's political upheavals, its union movement, the Spanish civil war, the Holocaust, McCarthyism and the massacre of students in Mexico City on the eve of the 1968 Olympics (Laura's grandson, Santiago, is one of the victims).

Its intelligence, emotional power and bold ambition make this a memorable book.

Diplomat, Harvard professor and one of Mexico's most famous writers and polemicists, Fuentes was often mentioned as a Nobel contender, but never won. He died in 2012.

In Villalobos's small but perfectly formed 2011 debut novel, reality and surreality overlap in a darkly comic tale that offers a fresh take on Mexico's nasty narco-wars.

Tochtli ("rabbit" in Nahuatl, an indigenous language), the precocious, seven-year-old narrator, tells us about his life as the son of a drug kingpin called Yolcaut ("rattlesnake" in Nahuatl). They live in an isolated and well-guarded palace ("the thing is we have a lot of money. A huge amount"), where the boy's every whim is indulged but he is lonely. He knows only "13 or 14 people … [But] if I counted dead people, I'd know more".

He has a passion for hats, samurai, guillotines – and Liberian pygmy hippopotamuses. Tochtli reads the dictionary every night, and among the words he likes to use are "pathetic", "devastating", "disastrous" and "sordid".

His father sees him as part of the gang and doesn't shield him from violence. As a result, the child is chillingly knowledgeable about bullets, knives and the disposal of corpses. "I think at the moment my life is a little bit sordid. Or pathetic," says Tochtli.

Although easily devoured in one sitting, this clever little book is to be contemplated at length afterwards.

A well-informed overview of Mexico today, in which Tuckman argues that the country missed a chance to fully embrace democracy after the oxymoronic Institutional Revolutionary party (PRI) was voted out in 2000 after 70 years in power (it has since returned).

The rightwing National Action party (PAN), in its 12 years of rule, failed to deliver on the hopes it had raised for more transparent and participatory governance, beyond political plurality and generally free and fair elections.

Tuckman investigates the key dimensions of Mexican life and the challenges the country faces: a violent drugs war (and the US role in it); a flawed judicial system and much-abused laws; rampant corruption; poverty and extreme inequality; racism; and environmental concerns. She also examines the infighting that has stymied the ambitions of the left, and the role played by the Catholic church and religion.

History, personal stories and political analysis are interwoven to reveal what makes this fascinating and diverse country tick.

Despite some seemingly intractable problems, she sees reasons to be optimistic, with brave and energetic citizens, along with sections of the media, stepping up to fight for a better future.

Tuckman, the Guardian's Mexico correspondent, has been living in, and reporting on, the country for more than 10 years.