The Book of Unknown Americans

by Cristina Henríquez

4/5 stars

People do what they have to in this life. We try to get from one end of it to the other with dignity and with honor. We do the best we can.

Alma and Arturo Rivera leave Mexico after an accident leaves their daughter, Maribel, a shell of her former self. Her parents hope that a special school to help children with brain injuries will help bring their Maribel back to them, and they are willing to put their entire future, and a comfortable life in Mexico, on the line for this hope. Soon, they find themselves alone in Delaware, unfamiliar, and unable to speak English. Gradually, they get to know the area, and their neighbors. Maribel makes friends with a neighbor boy, Mayor, and they both open up to each other in ways they are unable to with their family. The Book of Unknown Americans follows the Rivera family, and members of their new community, as they try to make day to day. The novel is told in alternating points-of-view.

I was drawn into this novel from the first. These characters compelled me. I could feel Alma’s fear and anxiety throughout most of the novel. At first, I had trouble with her innate fear of a boy she first sees hanging out outside a gas station. Then I realized that I can be made to feel uncomfortable by the same occurance. How much worse would it be if I felt myself utterly vulnerable without the comfort of language? One of the scenes in the novel that sticks with me most follows Alma getting on the wrong bus in the rain, even as she knows she should be meeting her daughter for the end of school school. The communication barrier makes this all the more terrifying and frantic as she tries to deliberately problem-solve the situation.

The relationships in this novel were beautiful. I mourned for the distance I saw growing between Alma and Arturo, even as they put everything they could into bringing their daughter back for them. I rooted for the emotional intimacy Maribel and Mayor found together that they couldn’t seem to find with their families, even as I was constantly questioning where the borders of this intimacy lay. Mayor’s relationship with his father, left me longing for more for him. These were well-drawn characters capable of interesting and complex relationships that felt real and honest.

I think longing is a good word for this novel. All of these characters are longing, and many of them are actively going after their desires. And when characters come up short of these hopes and wishes, that do not feel like they should be out of reach, it is heartbreaking. And Henríquez displays all of this as the characters simply living their lives, their truth. With the exception of maybe a moment at the end it does not feel like pathos. I do not feel like I am being manipulated as a reader, even as it would be so easy to do this.

I initially wasn’t sure what I thought of the interludes containing the migration stories of other people in the community. I was worried it would break me from the narrative. But they grew on me, even if I wished these characters had an even larger presence in the story to justify their voices interspersed throughout. There were hints at community. At the same time, the feeling of isolation and being away from the familiar is a huge part of the narrative, so the limited community is a very deliberate choice. The last interlude makes them all worth it. Do not peek ahead.

The end of this novel came at me a little fast. But, at the same time Henríquez had been building up to it. I just wasn’t ready. There were times I wanted more from the story.

This story has a strong, beating heart guided by interesting, flawed characters doing the best they can. I loved the story, and I loved the message. I will definitely be on the lookout for further work from Henríquez, and may have to get my hands on her backlist, a short story collection entitled Come Together, Fall Apart and a novel entitled The World in Half.