Dominicana

Shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2020, this phenomenal book had me hooked from the first page. A coming-of-age story written from the perspective of 15 year old Ana, as she is married off to a man twice her age to pursue the American dream in New York City. Set in the sixties as the Dominican Republic slides into political turmoil and the Vietnam war rages on, this story is fast-paced, grappling with heavy topics by way of personal depth and graceful humour. It’s easy to read, and author Angie Cruz really reveals her talent for painting a moving, female-centric immigration story without pulling any punches. Despite it’s historical positioning, this book is a timeless commentary on migration, borders and belonging; as well as the power of a woman discovering herself.

I know then that one day the earth will rip open underneath my feet and Juan will take me away. Tears rise. I don’t know how or when, but a ravenous world waits outside for me.

Based loosely on her mothers experience, Cruz uses rich, detailed descriptions of food, dancing and music to anchor the narrative in tangible ways. The mother/daughter relationship which is both the backdrop and the compass upon which Ana’s life is balanced reflects traditional values, cultural expectations and feminine perspectives of self in a fast changing world. Generational trauma weaves in and out of the context and storyline, appearing as emotional manipulation, guilt and unyielding hope for future generations. My favourite parts of the story are the subtle reminders of Ana’s age, despite her role as wife, mother-to-be, housekeeper, provider of visas. She’ll be scrubbing floors and preparing meals, and then suddenly give in to teenage rebellion by dancing to the radio in Juan’s suits, or feeding him a pigeon. She’s resilient and mature beyond her years, but she carefully tends a steadfast piece of her own mischievous soul close to the surface that can’t be bullied out or abandoned.

I’ve read reviews that pitch the book as unrealistic, and adhering to character stereotypes / cliches. I agree to some extent that there are strong character ‘types’ - abusive husband, overbearing mother, carefree rebellious brother; but I think this is skilfully balanced with multi-dimensional development, and the reflection that generational trauma is cyclical and therefore predictable to some degree. However, as a British white woman I don’t have first hand experience of immigration - and can see how this story may fall flat against personal experiences by those who can relate directly to the plot line.

Content Warning: Domestic violence, Rape, Violence & Death, Pregnancy, Forced Marriage, Racism, Ethnocentrism