The Perfect Mexican Daughter

The novel I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika L. Sánchez was recommended a few months ago on a list of books by Mexican-Americans and other Latina women. These books bear witness to experiences by their authors, who did not receive enormous amounts of money and publicity for their work. In contrast, at that time, an unfortunate -- probably bad -- book by a non-Latina author became notorious for the outsized money and acclaim it accumulated.

This seemingly racist reaction on the part of publishers and reviewers made me sad, and I decided to read some fiction by women who really belonged to the Latinx communities they wrote about. Additionally, I decided that I would never read the book that was the target of the critique: a sensational novel that is still making huge amounts of money for its unworthy author and getting disproportionate attention. My earlier blog post on this topic is "Vulnerable and Sympathetic Characters," posted January 30.

But let me talk about the book I read: Sánchez has written a very nice coming of age story of a teenager named Julia who lives in a Mexican neighborhood in Chicago. Julia, the imperfect Mexican daughter of the title, narrates the novel. She suffers from many typical American teen problems, all made worse by her family situation. Her parents are undocumented residents, victimized in several ways, poor, over-protective, suspicious of relationships with anyone outside the family, unable to understand her love of studying or her aspiration to go away to college, and culturally different from their successfully assimilated daughter. While she can travel to her parents' village in Mexico and see her grandparents, her parents don't dare leave the US for fear of repeating their earlier horrendous trip across the desert to enter the country illegally.

The book begins with the death of the narrator's sister, who is run over by a semi-truck. Julia's parents, whom she calls Amá and Apá, are naturally devastated. As they talk about the perfect daughter they lost, she's sure they've always felt her sister was superior to her and that she was flawed. Although the novel is classified as "Young Adult" -- a category that most emphatically doesn't include me -- from the starting point where she describes her sister's death I found it perfectly readable. The accounts of the urban environment, the rural setting in Mexico where she visits her extended family, and the details of American high school life were very enjoyable.

Here's an example of the way the author tells the story. It appears early in the book when her grieving mother is not cooking any meals. Julia is always hungry, though she fears being fat and is criticized for her body type, except in Mexico where her grandmother and aunts see her as too thin! She wants independence -- and wants to eat out though her parents never take her out. She wants a lot of things:

"I want Amá to tell me that she loves me and that we’ll get through this together, but she doesn’t. I stand there like a dope, waiting and waiting for her to say something that will make me feel better. When I realize she’s not going to, I dig through her wallet on the dresser, take out a five-dollar bill, and slam the door.  

"After searching every crevice of my room, I manage to find $ 4.75 in change. I’ll be able to buy three tacos and a large horchata, which isn’t much, but it will do. If I have to eat one more plain tortilla or boiled potato, I swear I’ll cry. I slip out the back door to avoid Apá in the living room, not that he’d even ask or notice. Now I have a ghost father and ghost sister. 

"The taco place is bright with fluorescent lighting, and smells like grease and Pine-Sol. I’ve never eaten alone at a restaurant, and it makes me nervous. I can feel everyone watching me. They probably think I’m a loser for eating alone. The waitress gives me a funny look, too. I bet she thinks I’m not going to tip her, but I’ll prove her wrong. I may be young, but I’m not dumb. 

"I order two tacos de asada and one al pastor with extra limes. The smell of fried meat and grilled onion makes my mouth water. When the tacos arrive, I try to eat them slowly, but end up inhaling them with desperation. Not only am I bad at cooking, I’m bad at being hungry. I’m always convinced I’m going to faint when my stomach starts to grumble. Each bite of the taco shoots a rush of pleasure through my body. I guzzle the bucket-sized horchata until I feel sick."(p. 23).

Julia's curiosity about food mirrors her curiosity about books, culture, and other people. For example, later in the book she tries Indian food and loves the spices -- "it tastes like a foreign paradise." When visiting relatives in Mexico, she participates in a communal cooking event making menudo: tripe stew, and eating it: "The texture of the meat can be shocking to the average American tongue, but I like it."

The sequence of events in the book involves Julia's progress through high school and her effort to learn more about her sister's life, which involves a lot of surprises. She describes her experience with a teacher who says she's his best-ever student and helps her with the college application process. She talks about her friendship with a school friend, a girl from the same background, but not a relative, so not ok with her mother. In secret from her parents, she has a relationship with a boy from Evanston (read: rich and white) who calls himself "a typical American mutt— German, Irish, Italian.” (p 235).

There are some stereotyped and seemingly obligatory elements in this coming-of-age story, but they are balanced by the well-portrayed and individualized characters. Julia struggles in the same way as many characters in similar books, but the differences caused by her ethnic identity and her love of literature are critical to the novel's success. For example, when she first meets Connor, the boy from Evanston, he asks what's her favorite book and her answer is a combination of predictable and unpredictable reactions:

"I love so many…. The Awakening? One Hundred Years of Solitude? The Great Gatsby? Catcher in the Rye? The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter? The Bluest Eye? Poetry or prose? If poetry, then maybe Emily Dickinson… or wait, maybe… Fuck, I don’t know.” I’m not sure why the question fills me with panic." (p. 229). 

But also, Connor's reaction to her differences is interesting, especially when he asks her the question that mainstream Americans ask of so many ethnically different people they meet:

“But where are you from from?”
“I’m from from Chicago. I just told you.”
“No, what I mean is… Forget it.” Connor looks embarrassed.
“You mean you want to know my ethnicity. What kind of brown I am. ... I’m Mexican. You could’ve just asked, you know?”  (p. 234). 

As the novel progresses Julia learns much more about her sister, but also a great deal about her parents, for whom she develops more understanding. Details about this would be a spoiler so I won't discuss it more. The novel was published in 2017 and takes place in 2013-2015, so it doesn't reflect the recent official persecution of people like her friends and family. However, our government's ongoing policy of cruelty and abuse toward aspiring immigrants and undocumented residents makes reading parts of this book even more painful.

All in all I was pleased that I did read I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter.

This review © 2020 mae sander for mae food dot blog spot dot com.