DE MUJERES Y SAL de Gabriela García es un intenso historia of immigration, motherhood and heart-wrenching decisions. Five generations story, two separate families and four nations, this timely book weaves together the lives of characters with scenes from the present and past. Starting in the cigar factory of in nineteenth century Cuba and finishing off with present-day detention centres in the US and Mexico. The injury of displacement and the strength of women to survive is explored.
It associates the lives of Ana and her mom Gloria, who are living in Miami when they are unexpectedly deported, and Jeanette who is right now battling with drug use and attempting to remain sober. Jeanette’s familia is from Cuba and all through the novel details are given over how her mom came to live in Miami and what life had been in Cuba during war time. Writing over various time spans and from different points of view, the reader starts to see the weight placed on the female of these families to hold everything together for their youngsters and how certain decisions have a lasting effect.
Al abordar temas de guerra, adicción a las drogas, abuso doméstico y el último problema de deportación en los EE. UU., "De las mujeres y la sal" realmente capta las dificultades que las mujeres deben enfrentar para rastrear su propia capacidad de ser conscientes de sí mismas, pero también para protegerse. los que aman pase lo que pase. Sin duda, esta fue una lectura problemática en ciertos puntos, pero también creo que es importante para echar un vistazo a la experiencia de los inmigrantes.
I needed somewhat more backstory from the older generations. I also experienced difficulty with the switching between years at certain points, particularly when it was from Jeanette’s point of view. The switch between years and points of view might have been smoother. However, overall I actually liked the story and understood every one of the characters. I highly recommend lectura OF WOMEN AND SALT by Gabriela Garcia and trust it will be a powerful read.
Lea también Lo que es mío y tuyo: por Naima Coster
