Title: The Book of Unknown Americans Author: Cristina Henríquez
Published: June 3, 2014
Genre(s): Realistic/Contemporary
Page Count: 286
Rating:
Summary from Goodreads:A dazzling, heartbreaking page-turner destined for breakout status: a novel that gives voice to millions of Americans as it tells the story of the love between a Panamanian boy and a Mexican girl: teenagers living in an apartment block of immigrant families like their own.
After their daughter Maribel suffers a near-fatal accident, the Riveras leave México and come to America. But upon settling at Redwood Apartments, a two-story cinderblock complex just off a highway in Delaware, they discover that Maribel's recovery--the piece of the American Dream on which they've pinned all their hopes--will not be easy. Every task seems to confront them with language, racial, and cultural obstacles.
At Redwood also lives Mayor Toro, a high school sophomore whose family arrived from Panamá fifteen years ago. Mayor sees in Maribel something others do not: that beyond her lovely face, and beneath the damage she's sustained, is a gentle, funny, and wise spirit. But as the two grow closer, violence casts a shadow over all their futures in America.
Peopled with deeply sympathetic characters, this poignant yet unsentimental tale of young love tells a riveting story of unflinching honesty and humanity that offers a resonant new definition of what it means to be an American.
The Book of Unknown Americans is a tragedy from the mouths of immigrants. It’s a book about the American Dream and the various ways that dream can fall apart and die. At the center of the novel are two teenagers from Latin American families, but Cristina Henríquez includes other voices as well, and while there are absolutely high points and moments of happiness, the pervading tone I felt while reading was of disappointment and “making do” with poor situations.
I’ve just made this novel sound pretty grim, and while it is, there’s a lot of truth to this story. As a society, we tend to build up and mythologize the American Dream and how you can “be whatever you want” in the U.S.—but that’s really only true up to a point. The Book of Unknown Americans sheds light on the less glamorous side of immigrant life, and it does so through the voices of the residents of the Delaware apartment complex the Riveras move to.
The Riveras, who come from Mexico to get specialized education for their mentally disabled daughter, Maribel, are at the center of the story. Alma Rivera is one of the book’s two primary narrators, trading off with Mayor, the teen boy who eventually befriends Maribel. Interspersed with Alma and Mayor’s perspectives are brief interludes when residents of the apartment complex, all immigrants from Spanish-speaking countries, tell their own stories.
On one hand, I really like that Henríquez took the opportunity to build a layered community and not focus only on the Riveras and their struggles. On other other hand, those interludes felt really…awkward. They were all formatted the same, basically: “My name is Felix and I was born in 1960 in El Salvador before I came to the US in 1983 and this and that”. Not a direct quote, but not an exaggeration, either. Still, those sections did help balance out the central conflict, which tended toward the theatrical.
Speaking of that main story—of Mayor and Maribel and forbidden love—I liked it, but it seemed overfamiliar and too easy. It wasn’t difficult for me to see Henríqez shuffling the characters into position for the final tragedy. Much of the plot felt far too unsubtly telegraphed in advance, and though it’s all well written, The Book of Unknown Americans wasn’t as impacting as it could have been, if only the plot had felt fresher and less overly tragic.
Not to sound too critical—there is a lot of good stuff happening in this book, and I really appreciate what Henríquez was doing with her subject matter. The Book of Unknown Americans has a great concept, and I loved that it gave a voice to the marginalized and also highlighted the diversity of their stories. However, it all felt like too much, since I wasn’t as emotionally invested as I would have liked to be.
