The narrator of Letters to My Mother is a young Afro-Cuban girl who, upon the death of her mother, must live with her aunt and cousins. Dependent on them and their good will, she finds their taunts about how dark her skin is and their attacks on her behavior, including her choice not to straighten her hair, deeply wounding. To keep her mother alive somehow, and to remember that she was once deeply loved, she writes letters telling Mamita what she is suffering and feeling.
Over the course of this powerful and moving novel, the heroine grows up. Her inner strength helps her to overcome her pain and the racism of at least some of the people around her. And her position in the family changes as she learns to accept herself and others.
Teresa Cardenas is Cuba's best-known author for young people and is a world-famous storyteller and dancer. She has won the Casa de las Americas prize for her novel Perro Viejo / Old Dog and Cuba's National Prize in Literary Criticism for Cartas al cielo (published as Letters to My Mother / Cartas a mi mama in North America). She lives in Havana with her two children.
David Unger, originally from Guatemala, is a well-known translator, poet and novelist who lives in New York City.
...a penetrating look at life in a different part of the Americas.
...a sparsely written, but powerful, book that will provide young adult readers with much to think about in terms of life and love and the power of friendship and self-respect. Highly recommended.
...short, but poignant...
Unger's simple, sometimes poetic translation of the book, which was originally published in Cuba, is always true to the child's inner voice.
This sheaf of small observations...is itself a 'broken mirror,' reflecting the toil and flashing transcendence of the human experience.
...this poignant story of racism and hope holds valuable lessons for all readers. An essential read for young and old.
...a stark portrait of the difficult life of a young African-Cuban girl. The main character's voice is authentic, and the other characters, sketched with spare lines, are believable and sympathetic.