Jeanine Cummins' 'American Dirt' grew to some notoriety when Oprah selected it for her book club — a measure of success for any author. As Cummins is white, with no experience of the migrant nor Mexican diaspora, she was criticized for writing from the perspective of Mexicans and other Latin Americans. Critics argued that it was problematic to write outside these communities, potentially perpetuating stereotypes or inaccuracies. Part of me finds this a flawed argument. The very nature of fiction is to imagine the world through another's lens - the only question should be whether it's done well or not.
After all, Tolkien was never an elf or a hobbit.
That said, there's a broader context to these criticisms which are justified, which we'll explore later.
Some praised 'American Dirt' for illuminating the harrowing journey faced by migrants seeking sanctuary in America, a narrative that gives humanity and depth to often faceless individuals enduring immense suffering and danger. It is easy, after all, to judge others when we don't understand their stories. On this level, the book has value - having landed in Oprah's Book Club, it's bound to be widely read and challenges stereotypes about 'these' people.
Cummins’ storytelling certainly is compelling — it's the only novel I've devoured in a single day in a really long time. Each chapter ends on a cliffhanger, driving the reader onward just as Lydia, the protagonist, and her son Luca race across Mexico toward the safety of American 'dirt' after sixteen members of her family is massacred by a drug cartel. Luca, mature beyond his years, faces the ordeal with a resilience that is both heartbreaking and inspiring.
Lydia is not a victim (as white America might paint migrants) but a fierce survivor, making harrowing decisions to protect her child, including leaping onto moving trains from bridges and risking encounters with thieves, rapists, and worse - the cartel. The irony of her relationship - nearly an affair - with the cartel leader adds a layer of complexity. No one is who they seem, this seems to say. We cannot trust our judgement.
The writing captures the frantic energy of their journey with long, rolling sentences that mirror the dangerous, unstoppable momentum of the train that thunders northward.
Consider this passage:
"Ricardín knows he's going to drown, and he has the thought that it would be almost funny to drown in a flash flood in the desert, and then he realizes that he doesn't want his death to be funny, or even almost funny, so he focuses all his energy on his abdominal muscles, on bending himself in half, so the top part of his body comes up out of the water and once, twice, he reaches for his father's hands and misses..."
However, not everyone was enamored with Cummin's story or writing, or the princely advance she was given for writing it. Schmidt of HuffPost pointed out that 'American Dirt' borrows heavily from the works of Latino authors like Luis Alberto Urrea. How authentic and original is the book, he argues, if she almost steals the scenes that have been written before?
It is also criticized for factual inaccuracies and cultural misrepresentations, such as describing non-existent locations or making errors in language use that would be obvious to those familiar with Mexican culture. Critics argue that these mistakes make the book feel inauthentic, especially to readers who know Mexico well. It does make me wonder how accurate other books I've reaad are about different cultures - but if these books are saying important things, does it entirely matter? How truthful does fiction need to be to get a message across? Isn't it also up to the reader to go a little further, like I did, to find out about the subject matter? It's a little hard for me to swallow, as admittedly, I loved the story and feel a little chastised for not understanding that not everything in the novel was accurate.
But the controversy surrounding 'American Dirt' goes deeper than just literary criticism. As Schmidt and others note, Latino voices are underrepresented in the U.S. - they make up 20 percent of writers, so why weren't they given such an advance to write thier story? This disparity is industry-wide issue that exists not only in America, but in other nations where the stories of the marginalised are told by outsiders when they are not as qualified to tell the story. Now that's something I can get behind.
While I initially read the book without awareness of these broader issues, it's clear the controversy highlights the need for more diverse voices in publishing. It's not just about who tells the story, but ensuring that those with direct experience and understanding have the opportunity to do so, and are recognized for it.
With Love,
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The identity politics surrounding media is exhausting. For an even more extreme example, Jean Auel was neither Cro-Magnon nor Neanderthal, yet she wrote a popular and compelling story of prehistoric peoples. Sure, there are many issues with corporate publishing as an industry, but it is also easier than ever before for independent authors to self-publish via Amazon or crowdfunding. If this book is a success, it should serve as a signal to Hispanic authors to tell their stories. But is someone Hispanic automatically more authoritative, even if they have never been a migrant or encountered anyone from drug cartels? That kind of implicit assumption seems "problematic," too.
I agree with you entirely, whilst still supporting the need to support less privileged writers to give them the opportunity to tell their story.
I loved the Clan of The Cave Bear series!!
To say that fiction is inaccurate is kind of nonsensical. I mean I get it, there is representation of a real culture. But at the same time, any fiction book is an alternate reality anyway. I haven't read this book but I suspect any inaccuracies have minimal (if any) impact on the story being told.
As far as advances and who gets them, I think that's a matter of what the publisher thinks will sell. Publishing is a business after all. These days it is almost trivial to self publish so everybody absolutely has the opportunity to tell their story. Getting someone to buy your story is another matter entirely. I'm not really sure how under-representation is being measured. Under represented in terms of advances from publishers?
Also, Wikipedia states that the author is of Puerto Rican and Irish descent. Doesn't that maker her Hispanic? I mean it would if she were running for president...
I just loved the book, so I'm biased, but I guess the major bugbear is she got opportunities others who were more qualified to write didn't.
There are some of us that just like to enjoy fiction just for the joy it brings us. My problem about the author stealing ideas might come after or I might not even mind at all. it might sound offensive but I prioritize loving books over author controversies.
I think your reflection on Cummins' narrative and style is valid; his ability to tell the story is undeniable and many readers may be attracted to the way he presents the migrants' struggle. However, it is also critical to consider the broader context and the lack of representation of Latino authors, who have lived experiences that could enrich these stories. At the end of the day, it's about finding a balance between literary creativity and social responsibility. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!
What a great review and great pick as well. We definitely appreciate you posting in our community! and we'd love to see you more frequently as well 😊