This
novel has too many narrators, all Latino, who originated in a variety of
countries. Some are U.S. citizens, some
have work visas, and some are undocumented.
Their heritage is as diverse as are their reasons for coming to the
U.S., specifically Delaware. The main
families are the Toros (from Panama) and the Riveras (from Mexico). The Toros have two sons—Enrique, who is away
at college on a soccer scholarship, and Mayor, who cannot possibly live up to
his brother’s standard. The Riveras are
new to the neighborhood, having left behind a comfortable life in order to
pursue educational opportunities for their beautiful, brain-damaged daughter
Maribel. She and Mayor become close
friends, but Maribel is naïve and therefore at risk of being exploited. All of the characters struggle in one way or
another—with their jobs, with their families, with the language, with the
bigotry they endure constantly. They
make some serious mistakes, particularly the young people, but Alma, Maribel’s
mother, withholds information from her husband, and then wonders if things
might have turned out differently if she had been more forthcoming. I really don’t like this type of
foreshadowing. Why does the author feel
the need to warn us that this secret will lead to serious trouble? For one thing, we know that secrets in novels
rarely remain secret, and when the secret is exposed, all hell is going to
break loose. Also, there are some kind
and helpful non-Latinos in the novel, especially the people at Maribel’s
school, but none of the bad guys are Latinos.
Don’t get me wrong. Certainly the
Latino population in this country needs to have a voice that touts their
immense contribution—economically, culturally, intellectually. However, I agree with some other reviewers
that this book’s perspective is a little skewed, and that detracts from its
valuable message and its impact.
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