Book Review: Into the Beautiful North
Ariel King-Moore
Issue date: 10/22/09 Section: Arts
Into the Beautiful North, the newest novel by Luis Alberto Urrea, tells the story of 19 year-old Nayeli and her quest to repatriate and bring home seven Mexican men from the North to drive out the banditos and repopulate her town. Helping her in this legend-sized endeavor are her friends Yolo, Vampi and Tacho, along with a host of allies, the most outlandish of which is a garbage dump samurai named Atómiko who comes complete with staff and Hello Kitty backpack.
The story develops into the legend of Nayeli's generation in her small home town of Tres Camarones. Her aunt Irma was the legend of her day, achieving immortality through numerous bowling championships. Nayeli's story, its absurdities excused by a watered down sense of magical realism, is a sort of cross-cultural legend tiptoeing across borders and sensitive subjects.
The book opens with a humor-filled description of Tres Camarones, "[The citizens] deemed the mayor who brought electricity The Antichrist, but reelected him because a new mayor meant change, and change was the last thing they wanted." The townspeople greet each other with "¡Adios!" because "people in Tres Camarones didn't say hello, they said good-bye." This helps illuminate why the men went to El Norte; they went in search of opportunity and modernity.
Aunt Irma, the matriarch in town, offers colorful, yet over-simplified nuggets of Mexican ethos. This includes the tidal waves of missionaries to Mexico, "That's why mewling missionaries didn't stand a chance. Being meek wasn't macho. There was no legend there." She also gives the traveling friends what seems to American readers inverted advice, "You can't drink the water -it will give you diarrhea," as well as a caution to remember where they come from, "Your dead are buried here. You were each born here, and your umbilical cords are buried in this earth. This town has been here sine time began! God himself came from Tres Camarones, and don't you ever forget it." Those familiar with the great authors of Latin America will read influences of Gabriel García Márquez just under the surface of the story, but scrutinize too closely and it becomes a cheap imitation and ruins the novel.
In style, magical realism is present in a diluted sense. NAFTA and stereotyped border patrol are touched, but not lingered on. These subjects are usually accompanied by quick one-liners provided by the fanciful characters and only allow for a chuckle before the action moves forward. For those who can appreciate the smatterings of Spanish and cultural paradoxes the novel delivers "inside jokes" on nearly every page. For those not on the "inside," Urrea tries to provide smiles for the Americano readers as his characters cross the boarder. He uses his insight as a dual citizen to give everyone their chance to laugh at themselves and at familiar cultural misunderstandings. While the book's ending doesn't bring the desired sense of closure, the book is not a guilt-trip read pushing a political agenda. It's a "choose-your-own-sentiment" ending.
The story develops into the legend of Nayeli's generation in her small home town of Tres Camarones. Her aunt Irma was the legend of her day, achieving immortality through numerous bowling championships. Nayeli's story, its absurdities excused by a watered down sense of magical realism, is a sort of cross-cultural legend tiptoeing across borders and sensitive subjects.
The book opens with a humor-filled description of Tres Camarones, "[The citizens] deemed the mayor who brought electricity The Antichrist, but reelected him because a new mayor meant change, and change was the last thing they wanted." The townspeople greet each other with "¡Adios!" because "people in Tres Camarones didn't say hello, they said good-bye." This helps illuminate why the men went to El Norte; they went in search of opportunity and modernity.
Aunt Irma, the matriarch in town, offers colorful, yet over-simplified nuggets of Mexican ethos. This includes the tidal waves of missionaries to Mexico, "That's why mewling missionaries didn't stand a chance. Being meek wasn't macho. There was no legend there." She also gives the traveling friends what seems to American readers inverted advice, "You can't drink the water -it will give you diarrhea," as well as a caution to remember where they come from, "Your dead are buried here. You were each born here, and your umbilical cords are buried in this earth. This town has been here sine time began! God himself came from Tres Camarones, and don't you ever forget it." Those familiar with the great authors of Latin America will read influences of Gabriel García Márquez just under the surface of the story, but scrutinize too closely and it becomes a cheap imitation and ruins the novel.
In style, magical realism is present in a diluted sense. NAFTA and stereotyped border patrol are touched, but not lingered on. These subjects are usually accompanied by quick one-liners provided by the fanciful characters and only allow for a chuckle before the action moves forward. For those who can appreciate the smatterings of Spanish and cultural paradoxes the novel delivers "inside jokes" on nearly every page. For those not on the "inside," Urrea tries to provide smiles for the Americano readers as his characters cross the boarder. He uses his insight as a dual citizen to give everyone their chance to laugh at themselves and at familiar cultural misunderstandings. While the book's ending doesn't bring the desired sense of closure, the book is not a guilt-trip read pushing a political agenda. It's a "choose-your-own-sentiment" ending.
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