Gringolandia

26 May 2009 reviews 0 Comments

cover.w/flapBear in mind–this is a report, not a review, and there are spoilers…

Do you find that the last book you read impacts the way you judge the book you’re reading now?  I wasn’t thrilled with The Door of No Return, and so was that much more impressed with Lyn Miller-Lachmann’s Gringolandia; her writing is wonderful, and this story is sophisticated, nuanced, and compelling.  At times, I even forgot that I was reading a young adult novel, which might be the ultimate compliment (in my opinion, at least, because that means the writing doesn’t pander to a teen audience and so has wider, universal appeal).  My research focuses on racial violence and representations of trauma, so I was particularly interested in the ways Miller-Lachmann presented Nino’s torture at the hands of Chile’s military dictatorship; she doesn’t shy away from the violence, yet still manages not to turn the reader into a voyeur; the torture isn’t titillating in any way, yet doesn’t repulse the reader to the point where you feel you need to put the book down.  The family’s response to Nino’s torture is interesting and varied, though a large portion of the novel is devoted to Courtney, Daniel’s “gringa” girlfriend who’s determined to expose human rights violations in Chile.  I actually found Daniel to be a more compelling character, and would like to have seen more of his evolution from a refugee seeking US citizenship into a more radical Chilean activist like his father.  Daniel’s friends are “gringos” and so we rarely see him talking politics; he seems to resent his father’s devotion to their inhospitable homeland, yet immediately climbs on board when he learns his father is planning to smuggle himself back into Chile.  I would like to have seen Daniel interacting with other Chilean teens, debating the viability of a future back in Chile and the merits (or hypocrisy) of US democracy.  Miller-Lachmann avoids the typical happy ending by having Daniel’s parents’ marriage disintegrate after the torture; Nino has been changed, and only Daniel seems able to tolerate his father’s alcoholism, PTSD, and devotion to “the cause.”  Courtney, who is almost obsessed with the Chilean freedom fight, is nonetheless unable to shed her own white privilege; as Daniel pointedly remarks after being injured on her behalf at a violent rally, Chile isn’t “Radical Disneyland.”  The novel is set primarily in the 1980s, and at times I found myself doubting the protagonists’ age; Daniel and Courtney are so mature, they reminded me of college seniors rather than high school students.  But I appreciated that Miller-Lachmann treated them as sensible, rational beings–a treatment I expected to find in The Door of No Return, but was sorely disappointed.  Make sure you pick up Gringolandia–it’s a great read, and an important glimpse into the not-so-distant past.