Candi's Reviews > American Dirt

I doubt there is a single person here on Goodreads that has not heard at least a hint of the controversy surrounding this book. I’m also confident that nearly every reader has at least a basic idea of the synopsis of American Dirt. So, I’m not really touching either of those elements in my review. I am a white woman, living in upstate New York, thousands of miles from Mexico. I have no real personal experience regarding the Mexican migrant issue, and therefore cannot speak to whether or not author Jeanine Cummins writes a genuine representation of the crisis or not. I don’t even dare to attempt to do so. What I can write about, however, is my own reading experience of this novel.

First of all, I was super excited to pick up this book. I lovingly cataloged it at my library when it first arrived. I put my name first on the list to get it on publication day. After all, it was hailed as “a new American classic” and was compared to the masterpiece The Grapes of Wrath. Naturally, this did give me pause, because both are tall orders to fill. Could this proclamation be true?! And it’s such a relevant topic! I need to read this book.

I like to learn something when I read. Even if a book is labeled as fiction, I hope to garner some useful information regarding the topic surrounding a group of fictional characters. I want to feel as if I am in the shoes of a character or two, understanding what they are enduring for this short period of time we are together. To my disappointment, I was completely underwhelmed by American Dirt. It was far too melodramatic for my taste.

It starts with a big bang right from page one. But for me it was too much. It seemed to be forced in order to provide the catalyst for the rest of the novel, an extravagant attempt to try to gain my sympathy. I felt an instant disconnection from the characters. I tried to remain hopeful about accompanying Lydia and Luca on their harrowing journey through Mexico towards their one glimmer of hope, the United States. And there were scenes that were charged with danger. Naturally, I hoped this pair and their fellow migrants would survive the risks. One additional thing that bothered me throughout – some characters were just not believable. I couldn’t help but think repeatedly “would so-and-so really act or speak this way in this situation?” One example would be too-wise beyond his years, eight-year-old Luca. I was further bothered by what seemed like an abundance of clichés. For example, the beautiful teenaged girl from Honduras – the threat of rape menaced her at every turn. Why not the arguably less stunning but perhaps still attractive mother of a little boy? Would not any migrant woman be at risk from such danger? I guess what I’m trying to say is that the characters were more like cut-outs, in my opinion. I missed the depth of characterization that I find so appealing in my favorite kind of novel. It doesn’t help that while reading this one, I also had the pure pleasure of another book that really did tick off all the boxes – including nuanced characters, equally relevant social and political issues, and perilous situations.

I wouldn’t tell anyone they should not read this book. If it at all interests you, by all means, pick it up and make your own judgments. For me, the writing was mediocre and I was disappointed to remain a far-removed observer. None of the thousands of miles separating my home from the Mexican border were diminished after finishing the last page. But I truly hope it does get people talking about an extremely important issue. The best way to read this would be with a buddy, so you can bounce ideas off one another. I may not have made it to the end otherwise - muito obrigada, Pedro! I will continue my quest to become more educated on the topic.

For an engaging write-up of this book, please visit my buddy's review here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...