Month / September 2023

by booksoverlookedblog

BIDP: Butterflies in November

In 2015, I took a trip to Iceland with my sister, boyfriend (now husband), and a friend. For ten days we traveled the Ring Road that encircles the country. It was an adventure unlike any other I’d been on, not only because of the beautiful and primal landscape we explored. It was also because I spent the second night of our trip in an Icelandic hospital, and got to learn about the Scandinavian health care system first hand. But that’s another story altogether.

I bring this all up because I wanted to explain how the book Butterflies in November landed in my lap. Technically, I did pick this book, just not for myself. I bought it for my sister, who re-gifted it back to me. I got this book specifically for her because it’s about an Icelandic woman making an unexpected trip around the Ring Road, and the people she meets along the way. It had been praised in reviews, and I thought it would be fun to relive our trip through a book where the protagonist takes the same route we did. My sister said that the book was “okay” – not exactly high praise – and passed it on to me.

One unusual thing about Butterflies in November is that very few characters have names, including the main character. For this review, I’ll be referring the her as “Kvenhetja,” the Icelandic word for “heroine.” At least, I think it is. Google Translate is far from perfect.

Here’s the basic plot: Kvenhetja is a linguist and freelance editor and translator. She’s been married for almost five years, but has been having an affair with one of her clients. Shortly after being dumped by both her husband and lover, she becomes the reluctant guardian of her best friend’s child. Tumi is four years old, deaf and largely mute, and Kvenhetja doesn’t have a mothering bone in her body. After Tumi picks the winning numbers for the largest lottery jackpot in Icelandic history, he and Kvenhetja set out on a  journey on the Icelandic Ring Road that encircles the entire country.

The plot isn’t anything we haven’t seen before. Someone unlucky in love who takes in a child (bonus points if they have special needs) and goes on a journey of self-discovery. The main difference between this book and stories like No Reservations, Raising Helen, and this way-too-accurate trailer for every Academy Award-winning movie ever is that it’s set in Iceland. But what really drew me into the book was how similar I was to the protagonist. Scarily so.

‘It’s as if you just don’t want to grow up, behaving like a child, even though you’re thirty-three years old, doing your weird and careless things [. . .] You’re always forgetting things, arriving the last at everything, you don’t wear a watch. And to top it all, you always seem to choose the longest route anywhere. [. . .] Words, words, words, exactly, your entire life revolves around the definition of words. Well here you go, impulsive: abrupt, hasty, headlong and impetuous. [. . .] Having a child might have changed you, smoothed your edges a bit. But still, what kind of mother would behave the way you do?’

It was bound to reach this point, the baby issue. But I’m a realist so I agree with him, I wasn’t made to be a mother, to bring up new humans, I haven’t the faintest clue about children, nor the skills required to rear them. The sight of a small child doesn’t trigger a wave of soft maternal feelings in me.

I have never felt so called out by a book before.

But in that outlining of Kvenhetja’s traits and quirks, there is one thing I am that she’s not. Impatient. I was promised a travelogue, but it took several chapters of set-up to get her and Tumi on the road. Granted, the chapters tend to be short, but it felt like forever to get to. When Kvenhetja and Tuni finally get to their journey on the Ring Road, I kept reading and waiting for…something to happen.

I’ve read some non-fiction travelogues, and they’re often a series of anecdotes as the narrator travels form Point A to Point B. This makes sense. Our lives don’t follow the structured five stages of plot (though sometimes it feels like they do). Telling a true story about your life isn’t going to be like telling a story in a novel.

Once Kvenhetja and Tumi are on the road, the story is mostly composed of anecdotes of people she and Tumi meet along the way. There are definite characters she meets, like a falconer and an Estonian men’s choir. There is a through-line to the plot, at least:  Kvenhetja is on the road to receive a prize she won, and Tumi is along for the ride.

The road trip was the part of the book I was most interested in, because it was a way to re-visit my trip around the Ring Road. All the people on the road that Kvenhetja meets are helpful and friendly, something I probably would have scoffed at if I hadn’t seen the kindness of native Icelanders and tourists firsthand. Iceland is a rugged country, and being stranded on the Ring Road can be dangerous. I think that’s one of the reasons why it feels like everyone has each other’s back.

I also liked to see  things on the page that had enchanted me in real life: black sand deserts, lava fields, hot springs and one-lane bridges. These are landscapes you can get lost in, perfect for resetting your life. The novel makes a lot of use of metaphors reflecting on the Icelandic landscape and travel on the Ring Road.

The reviews promised a quirky and funny story, but most of the time I read it, I was just bored. Despite the similarities between Kvenhetja and me, as the book went on, I just didn’t like her very much. She’s impulsive and makes poor decisions that are potentially dangerous for the child in her care. Granted, Iceland is generally safer than the U.S., but I don’t think that it’s a good idea to have sex with a stranger in a lava field while a four-year-old charge is sleeping in the car. Half the time Tumi may as well not even be in the story, considering how much of the prose is devoted to Kvenhetja’s introspection.

This book also hit on one of my pet peeves when it comes to writing child characters: children who don’t act like children. I don’t mind a precocious character every now and then, and Tumi is meant to be an “introspective oddball.” I liked how he has an interest in words and could read and write a little. It helped bring Kvenhetja and Tumi connect, not just for the purposes of communication. She might not have any inkling of what to do with a child, but their shared interest in words helps build their relatiomship. But for an entire trip, Kvenhetja never had to deal with Tumi wetting his pants, throwing a tantrum, or trying to eat rocks. Tumi isn’t just introspective; he’s the most un-childlike four-year-old I think I’ve seen in fiction.

Overall, I didn’t really care for Butterflies in November. I didn’t seem to get the wry humor that reviews promised. The prose is descriptive and fantastic, but it ultimately wasn’t enough to save the thin plot.

I don’t think it was a bad book. It certainly got plenty of love from critics. It just wasn’t a good book for me. If Butterflies in November sounds like something you’d enjoy, I encourage you to check it out!

by booksoverlookedblog

Sep. Book Recs: Hispanic Heritage Month

September marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month in the U.S.! Hispanic Heritage Month begins on September 15 and goes to October 15. It’s a little unusual for a monthly observation to begin in the middle of the month, but there’s a reason for it. On September 15, 1821, Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua declared independence from Spain. Mexico declared its independence on September 16, 1810, and Chile did so on September 18, 1810. Almost 200 years later, Belize would declare independence from Great Britain on September 21, 1981. 

Hispanic Heritage Month celebrates the achievement, culture, and traditions of Latinx Americans of Mexican, Central American, South American, Caribbean, and Spanish ancestry. 

As always, I can only offer a smidgen of what is out there for books by and about Latinx individuals. If you’re looking for more, Pura Belpré award winners and honorees are a great place to start! There are also many Latinx authors and illustrators doing stellar work. To name a few: Alma Flor Ada, Julia Alvarez, Jorge Argueta, Monica Brown, Isabel Campoy, Joe Cepeda, Angela Cervantes, Veronica Chambers, Sandra Cisneros, Judith Ortiz Cofer, Raul Colón, Carmen Agra Deedy, Lulu Delacre, David Díaz, Angela Dominguez, Margarita Engle, Xavier Garza, Christina Díaz González, Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, Susan Guevara, Francisco Jiménez, René Colato Laínez, Rafael López, Meg Medina, Marisa Montes, Pat Mora, Yuyi Morales, Sara Palacios, John Parra, Celia C. Pérez, Pam Muñoz Ryan, Benjamín Alire Sáenz, Garo Soto, Francisco X. Stork, Carmen Tafolla, Raúl the Third, Duncan Tonatiuh, and Erica Velazquez. 

That’s quite a list! You’ll find some of those writers on this list as well. ¡Vamos a leer!

Nonfiction

Enchanted Air: A Memoir by Margarita Engle

Margarita is a child of two countries: the United States, and Cuba. Her mother’s country, Cuba, is a place of dancing trees, singing vendors, and beautiful forests and farms. Cuba is a place where Margarita can be brave – as brave as a boy. But most of the year she lives in Los Angeles, timid and lonely. Growing up in the 1950s and 60s, she doesn’t understand how two countries she loves so much can hate each other. As relations between Cuba and the United States worsen, Margarita wonders: will her relatives in Cuba hate her? Why is her mother choosing to be “stateless”? When will she visit her beloved Cuba again? In evocative verse, Engle shares her experiences growing up Cuban-American during the Bay of Pigs invasion and Cuban Missile Crisis, her summers in Cuba before the United States embargo against the country, and her deep and abiding love for words and poetry. 

Once I was You: A Memoir / Una vez fui tuí: Memorias by Maria Hinojosa

When Mexican-born Maria Hinojosa came to the United States as a one-year-old in 1962, she was nearly separated from her family. Only her mother refusing to leave her child allowed Maria to move to the U.S. with her family. In this memoir, Hinojosa chronicles her life and they many identities she has: an immigrant, a woman, a survivor of sexual assault, a wife, mother, and award-winning journalist. She started as an intern at NPR, pitching stories by day and waiting tables by night. Throughout her career, she sought to highlight human stories that are often overlooked, and give a voice to the voiceless. Yet this book is about more than one woman’s life. Opening on an encounter with children who were separated from their families while crossing the U.S.-Mexico border, Hinojosa gives a history of changing immigration policies from the 1960s to 2020, when the book was published. She explains the politics behind the end of Immigration Naturalization Services (INS) and the formation of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), and the societal and political changes that brought us to where we are now. Most sobering, Hinojosa describes the horrifying conditions of immigrant detention centers, and the ICE raids that help fill those centers. A powerful memoir of resilience, alongside painful reminders of the U.S.’s broken immigration system today. Published subsequently in Spanish. A young reader’s edition which focuses on Hinojosa’s childhood and adolescence is also available. 

Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed: 15 Voices from the Latinx Diaspora, edited by Saraciea J. Fennell

There are as many ways to be Latinx as there are Latinx people in the world. This essay collection gives voice to Latinx and Afro-Latinx writers’ experiences. Each essay has its own style and theme: “Eres Un Pocho” by Mark Oshira, written as second-person letters to a younger self, and “#JulianforSpiderman” by Julian Randall is a reflection of Afro-Latinx identity told alongside the story of Miles Morales. “More than Nervios” by Lilliam Riviera describes challenges Latinx individuals face in receiving treatment for mental health issues, and Jasminne Mendez recounts coming face to face with racism in theatre. Frequently underrepresented Latinx ethnicities are represented as well, like Honduran and Panamania writers. These beautiful, sometimes heartbreaking essays each tell a unique and personal story, often of seeking and discovering identity. Colorism is another prominent theme. Each essay is deeply human, and the struggle to understand yourself and your place in the world is something everyone can relate to, no matter their background. 

Inventing Latinos: A New Story of American Racism by Laura E. Gómez

“Race isn’t real, but racism is.” This is the thesis statement of Inventing Latinos. Published just before the United States’s controversial 2020 Census, Gómez presents a macro-level overview “the how and why of Latinx identity becoming a distinctive racial identity.” She starts with the legacies of Spanish colonization and American imperialism, the effects of which still echo today. She explores the complexity of racial identity with the mestizaje population, racially mixed people with Indigenous, Spanish, and African ancestry. She also discusses discrimination faced by Latinx Americans, particularly in schools, and that Latinx populations are often treated as a “buffer” group between White and Black populations in the United States. Gómez ends an overview of Trump-era policies steeped in anti-Latinx racism, and argues to list Latino/a/x as a race rather than an ethnicity on future censuses. While not everyone agrees with Gómez on this matter, this academic overview of Latinx identity contains important (if dry at times) information. 

A Land of Books: Dreams of Young Mexihcah Word Painters by Duncan Tonatiuh

Before the arrival of Europeans, Mesoamerica was an amoxtlalpan – a “land of books.” A young Mexihcah (Aztec) girl tells her little brother about the process of making books (amoxtin) to her younger brother, starting with their tlahcuilohqueh parents – painters of words. She describes the process, from creating paper pulp from tree bark and dyes from plants and insects to paint the books. The book informs readers about Mexihcah culture, including education, literacy, and religion. Nahuatl words are used throughout the text, with a glossary and pronunciation guide in the back. This picture book has beautiful illustrations, done in the Pre-Columbian style inspired by Indigenous Mesoamerican art. A detailed author’s note talks about the history of Mexihcah codices (of which only 15 remain) and the importance of preserving Indigenous art. 

Fiction

Cuba in my Pocket by Adrianna Cuevas

After the failure of the Bay of Pigs invasion solidifies Fidel Castro’s power in Cuba, twelve-year-old Cumba lives in fear. Fear of executions, fear of whispering neighbors, and fear of the soldier who seems to track his every footstep. In danger of being recruited into Young Rebels, and eventually military service, Cumba’s family decides to send him to the United States. After reaching Miami, Cumba must contend with not knowing English, strange food, and most of all, missing his family. He gradually adjusts to life in the United States, sharing Prima Benita’s house with two other teenage refugees. He deeply misses home, and struggles to hold out hope that his family will join him in the U.S. in the future. 

Woven in Moonlight by Isabel Ibañez

In this Bolivian-inspired fantasy, Ximena was left orphaned after the Llascan revolt leveled her home and forced Illustrians like herself out of La Ciudad. After the revolt, Ximena was plucked out of the rubble due to her resemblance to the last surviving Illustrian royal, the condesa Catalina. For ten years Ximena has acted as Catalina’s decoy, and only Catalina’s inner circle knows the truth. When the Llascan king Atoc demands the condesa’s hand in marriage, it is Ximena’s duty to go to the capital in her place. Yet she has no plans to see herself or Catalina married. Thirsty for revenge, she will spy and search for the Estrella, a mysterious artifact that Atoc used to summon an army of ghosts during the revolt. Using her gift to spin thread from moonlight, Ximena sends messages hidden in tapestries back to Catalina. Yet as she comes to know the Llascans around her – and the mysterious vigilante, El Lobo – she begins to question her mission. Atoc is too dangerous to remain on the throne, but is Catalina really the queen that they need?

Our Shadows Have Claws: 15 Latin American Monster Stories, edited by Yamile Saied Méndez and Amparo Ortiz

A black wolf with red eyes stalks a high school bully. Death welcomes a girl into her home. A girl raised as a vampire hunter prepares for the fight of her life. Our Shadows Have Claws is an anthology of fifteen different monster stories set across Latin America and the Latinx Diaspora. Despite what the title suggests, these are not all horror stories. Some are romance, some are heartwarming, and some will make you shiver when you hear something go “bump” in the night. Themes of racism and colorism are woven throughout; environmentalism, heritage, and finding home are other important themes. All but one of the stories star girls, but each lead character must face their fears to protect their loved ones, themselves, or just to discover who they are. “Beware the Empty Subway Car” by Maika and Maritza Moulite was my favorite, the story of a hidden lougarou who suddenly wants to be seen. If you like supernatural stories, there’s something for everyone in this collection. 

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

The Jazz Age is in full swing, and Casiopea Tun has dreams – dreams of driving an automobile, swimming in the Pacific, and dancing fast in nightclubs. She has no way of chasing those dreams, living as her grandfather’s servant following the death of her Mayan father. She thinks she must simply wait for the old man to die before she can leave her small town on the Yucatán Peninsula…until she opens a mysterious box and accidentally frees a Mayan god of death from imprisonment. Hun-Kamé once reigned over the underworld Xibalba, until his treacherous brother beheaded him and scattered his eye, ear, finger, and jade necklace across Mexico. Hun-Kamé’s and Casiopea’s fates are now tied together, and she must help him retrieve what has been stolen from him. Their time is short – the bond between them drains Casiopea’s life and threatens Hun-Kamé’s godhood. Together, they travel across Mexico and face challenges Casiopea has only read about in books. A gorgeous fairytale, rich with Mayan mythology. 

My Papi Has a Motorcycle / Mi papi tiene una moto by Isabel Quintero. Illustrated by Zeke Peña. 

Daisy loves riding around town with her Papi on his motorcycle. Like a streaking comet, they fly through the neighborhood. Daisy can see how her city is changing: Don Rudy’s Raspados has shut down; new homes are being built where citrus groves once stood. Yet Daisy knows that, no matter how much her city changes, it will always be a part of her, just like her father’s love. With a beautiful palette of sunset colors, this picture book tells the story of a neighborhood gentrifying, but the strong sense of community binding it together. Published concurrently in Spanish and English, Spanish words are sprinkled throughout the English version. 

And for girls with dads with motorcycles, this hits straight home.