American Dirt, by Jeanine Cummins

Review by Dave Gamrath

 

One-liner:  In her novel American Dirt, author Jeanine Cummins tells the story of a mother’s desperate and tragic journey to escape Mexican cartel violence.

 

Book Review: 

I first heard about Jeanine Cummins’ novel American Dirt from the uproar it generated amongst authors of color.  Although Cummins’ grandmother was born and raised in Puerto Rico, Cummins’ identifies as white.  Her antagonists accused Cummins’, with American Dirt, of misrepresenting Mexico and exploiting migrants, and were exceptionally upset that Cummins’ received a seven-figure advance for the book.  Authors of color often face financial handicaps vs white authors, and rarely receive equal financial rewards.  To be blunt, they are pissed that white authors continue to write about minority cultures, and are often paid handsomely to do so.  Cummins, and American Dirt, became the focus of this frustration, and resulted in a major backlash against Cummins, to the point where Cummins cancelled her book tour out of fear for her safety. 

 

So why did I go ahead and read American Dirt?  Because I heard it was a good read.  Also, I’ve read multiple books about Mexican drug cartels, and all included extreme violence, poverty and injustice.  I was curious if Cummins story would be similar.  Spoiler alert:  American Dirt also includes extreme violence, poverty and injustice.  But American Dirt seems far more real, and more personal, then the other cartel novels I’ve read.  The characters grab you, and you very much feel their fear, desperation and pain.  Cummins succeeds in embedding the reader into the emotional turmoil and fear her characters are struggling to overcome.  At times I didn’t want to continue reading, so vivid were the injustices.  Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t stop reading, and hoping, that the characters would finally find freedom and safety on American dirt.

 

Beyond Mexican drug cartel violence, American Dirt also describes the general impact of poverty and lack of opportunity throughout Central America.  Poverty and lack of opportunity, as well as fear for one’s life, drive people to leave their homes to face the overwhelming dangers of migrating to “el Norte”, to the United States, in search of a better life.  In search of hope.  And against the odds.

 

On the first page of her book, Cummins makes the storyline of American Dirt crystal clear:  the heroine, Lydia, a bookshop owner in Acapulco, and her eight year old son Luca, hide as they watch their extended family brutally murdered by a drug cartel.  Lydia, in deep shock and overwhelming pain, needs to act fast to save her own life as well as her sons’.  Over the course of the books’ first chapters, Lydia forms their escape plan, and they soon join other desperate migrants working their way to the US.  Throughout the book, Cummins rarely pulls her punches; things don’t get easy, and very bad things happen.  Yet, kindness is also found by the immigrants, and they keep pressing onwards.  Cummins has crafted a very credible attempt to provide the reader a realistic understanding of the feelings of terror that such migrants experience. 

 

In truth, for me anyway, American Dirt was more than a good read.  It’s an inspiring read, and has inspired me to personally work harder for the disadvantaged, the homeless, and for immigrants and refugees.  I get that the book was written by a “mostly” white woman, and that Cummins was paid handsomely for her efforts.  I get that there is injustice in literature in the US, as there is with most everything else.  And I get that American Dirt makes a good target for getting this injustice recognized, and will hopefully be a springboard towards positive change.  But I don’t feel Cummins exploits migrants in writing her book.  Rather, as with me, I hope that American Dirt will move readers towards positive action.  In a time where America’s President uses immigrants as a political prop, and works to increase their suffering for his own political gain, we need the voices, and writings, of our full community to come to their defense.  Hopefully Cummins has helped with this cause, as well as with, unintentionally, exposing injustice against writers of color in America.

 

In the Author’s Note at the book’s end, Cummins writes of seeing a piece of graffiti on the border wall in Tijuana, which reads “También de este lado hay sueños”.  Translation:  “On this side, too, there are dreams.”  Words to remember, and reflect upon, even if our President and his Base never will. 

 

Reviewer Opinion: 

A very good, if at times difficult book.

 

Reviewer Rating of Book: 

Big thumb up.