#but realistically oscar isaac bc they love killing him off

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i’m angery

i know i’m mostly a star wars killjoy on tumblr dot com lately but allow me to SCREAM about my latest nemesis, a book called “American Dirt”:

Lydia Quixano Pérez lives in the Mexican city of Acapulco. She runs a bookstore. She has a son, Luca, the love of her life, and a wonderful husband who is a journalist. And while there are cracks beginning to show in Acapulco because of the drug cartels, her life is, by and large, fairly comfortable.

Even though she knows they’ll never sell, Lydia stocks some of her all-time favorite books in her store. And then one day a man enters the shop to browse and comes up to the register with a few books he would like to buy―two of them her favorites. Javier is erudite. He is charming. And, unbeknownst to Lydia, he is the jefe of the newest drug cartel that has gruesomely taken over the city. When Lydia’s husband’s tell-all profile of Javier is published, none of their lives will ever be the same.

Forced to flee, Lydia and eight-year-old Luca soon find themselves miles and worlds away from their comfortable middle-class existence. Instantly transformed into migrants, Lydia and Luca ride la bestia―trains that make their way north toward the United States, which is the only place Javier’s reach doesn’t extend. As they join the countless people trying to reach el norte, Lydia soon sees that everyone is running from something. But what exactly are they running to?

Written by one Jeanine Cummins, who has Puerto Rican ancestry but grew up in the MD suburbs (as I did, tbf) and in 2015 considered herself white (”I am white...in every practical way, my family is mostly white.”  [cw for sexual assault and murder at the link]), everything I read about this book has begun to drive me to madness.

Recommended by the Mary Sue book club (the source of the above summary), it has since been retracted bc a) its sucks and b) THEY DIDN’T READ IT BEFORE PUTTING IT ON THE BOOK CLUB LIST (”I try to read most, if not all, of the books I recommend for the Book Club because I truly do love reading, and I want to make sure that if I suggest someone grab something, it’s something I can say I liked. When I was looking up two books to fill out the list, one of them was American Dirt. I saw that it had received a lot of positive press from Stephen King, Rumaan Alam, Don Winslow, Sandra Cisneros, and other literary news outlets including Oprah’s Book Club. It seemed like the type of literary fiction that’s always good for a book club read. I was mistaken.“)

Myriam Gurba, at Tropics of Meta, describes being asked to review it for a feminist magazine, and then being told her review was too negative to publish. It included gems such as:

Cummins bombards with clichés from the get-go. Chapter One starts with assassins opening fire on a quinceañera, a fifteenth birthday party, a scene one can easily imagine President Donald Trump breathlessly conjuring at a Midwestern rally, and while Cummins’ executioners are certainly animated, their humanity remains shallow. By categorizing these characters as “the modern bogeymen of urban Mexico,” she flattens them. By invoking monsters with English names and European lineages, Cummins reveals the color of her intended audience: white. Mexicans don’t fear the bogeyman. We fear his very distant cousin, el cucuy.

[...]

With their family annihilated by narcotraffickers, mother and son embark on a refugees’ journey. They head north, or, as Cummins’ often writes, to “el norte,” and italicized Spanish words like carajo, mijo, and amigo litter the prose, yielding the same effect as store-bought taco seasoning.

[...] Lydia’s husband, a journalist, describes her as one of the “smartest” women he’s ever known. Nonetheless, she behaves in gallingly naïve and stupid ways. Despite being an intellectually engaged woman, and the wife of a reporter whose beat is narcotrafficking, Lydia experiences shock after shock when confronted with the realities of México, realities that would not shock a Mexican.

It shocks Lydia to learn that the mysterious and wealthy patron who frequents her bookstore flanked by “[thuggish]” bodyguards is the capo of the local drug cartel! It shocks Lydia to learn that some central Americans migrate to the United States by foot! It shocks Lydia to learn that men rape female migrants en route to the United States! It shocks Lydia to learn that Mexico City has an ice-skating rink! (This “surprise” gave me a good chuckle: I learned to ice skate in México.) That Lydia is so shocked by her own country’s day-to-day realities, realities that I’m intimate with as a Chicana living en el norte, gives the impression that Lydia might not be…a credible Mexican. In fact, she perceives her own country through the eyes of a pearl-clutching American tourist.

Parul Sehgal, at the NYT, digs into the fact that while the motives of this book may be unimpeachable (tho: are they??), the writing itself is...perhaps less so:

I found myself flinching as I read, not from the perils the characters face, but from the mauling the English language receives. Lydia’s expression “is one Luca has never seen before, and he fears it might be permanent. It’s as if seven fishermen have cast their hooks into her from different directions and they’re all pulling at once. One from the eyebrow, one from the lip, another at the nose, one from the cheek.” Yes, of course. That expression.

Sehgal also highlights my favorite line I’ve heard about in this book: “when Lydia finds she is unable to pray, ‘she believes it’s a divine kindness. Like a government furlough, God has deferred her nonessential agencies.’” The Raised in the DMV Suburbs just JUMPED OUT, didn’t it, Jeanine? But like legit, why on earth would a Mexican bookstore lady’s frame of reference ever be A GOVERNMENT FURLOUGH and NONESSENTIAL AGENCIES. followers, i just about died. 

David J. Schmidt, at The Blue Nib, calls out other inaccuracies and stereotypes:

It is worth dwelling on the character of Javier for a moment. A “drinking game” could be created based on all the Latin American stereotypes he personifies. Javier is dapper, yet dangerous. He is charming, yet mysterious. He wears a white guayabera, a shirt the author describes as “more suitable for Sunday Mass than a regular workday.” (Untrue—this is a casual garment, more suitable for a love affair in a Fabio-bedecked romance novel.)

This quintessential “Latin lover” shows up at Lydia’s bookstore and speaks to her in a tone significantly different from the other characters of American Dirt. I  must emphasise, Javier’s dialogue does not reflect the normal speech patterns of Mexico, but perfectly reflects U.S. stereotypes. The only way to properly read Javier’s lines is through the most gross of caricatures.

One should imagine the husky voice of Antonio Banderas, speaking at his most sensual and Spanishy. Any character he has played in English will do, although it is clear that Javier was ideally written for the voice of Puss in Boots. When Lydia asks if Javier reads English, the dapper narco responds:

“I try, yes […] My English isn’t fluent, but it’s close. And this story is so delicate.”

[...]

The cultural inaccuracies of American Dirt run deep, right down to the language. Throughout her book, Cummins shows confusion regarding the grammatical genders in Spanish. Most notably, she baptises the drug kingpin Javier with the nickname La Lechuza. It is difficult to imagine a macho, womanizing capo using a feminine-gendered noun as his moniker. Would a hardened mafia boss call himself “The Princess of Compton” or “The Belle of Belfast”?

Cummins got a seven figure advance for this. A SEVEN FIGURE ADVANCE. She “wished someone slightly browner than me would write it,” but she did it,  and her team is throwing around the fact that her husband’s previously undocumented status as some sort of justification without mentioning that he’s white & Irish. 

Also, there’s this news:

Imperative Entertainment, the production banner behind the Clint Eastwood hit The Mule, has acquired the rights to American Dirt, the Mexican migrant drama novel by Jeanine Cummins.

Charles Leavitt, the scribe who penned the Leonardo DiCaprio drama Blood Diamond, has been tapped to write the adaptation, which will be produced by Imperative’s Dan Friedkin and Bradley Thomas.

Charles Leavitt is a white guy who, most recently, wrote the Warcraft movie. So, that’s going to end well. 

I’ll leave you with this other gem from Gurba (from her essay about it, “Pendeja, You Ain’t Steinbeck “):

Susan Sontag wrote that “[a] sensibility (as distinct from an idea) is one of the hardest things to talk about” and with this challenge in mind, I assert that American Dirt fails to convey any Mexican sensibility. It aspires to be Día de los Muertos but it, instead, embodies Halloween. The proof rests in the novel’s painful humorlessness. Mexicans have over a hundred nicknames for death, most of them are playful because death is our favorite playmate, and Octavio Paz explained our unique relationship with la muerte when he wrote, “The Mexican…is familiar with death. [He] jokes about it, caresses it, sleeps with it, celebrates it. It is one of his favorite toys and his most steadfast love.” Cummins’ failure to approach death with appropriate curiosity, and humility, is what makes American Dirt a perfect read for your local self-righteous gringa book club.

so idk, The Mary Sue, maybe it should stay on your Book Club list after all. (Oh wait: as of this writing, it still is.) 

#american dirt #sorry for the long post but as i said #i'm angery #long post #(also TBF: i think Schmidt dings the book for having a character named luca) #(my cousin named her son that) #(and it's not like mexicans can NEVER have foreign names [i mean -- SCHMIDT -- etc] #but it's a thing that maybe requires some explanation even if it is 'well she liked the italian version better' #(oh also you can be white and latinx) #(i think more accurately jeanine is white passing but) #(that's her deal to id with) #anyway this will be made into a movie staring whatshername from Knives Out and MAYBE diego luna as the dead hubby #but realistically oscar isaac bc they love killing him off