After leaving the college she'd attended to escape her religiously conservative parents, Iliana, a first-generation Dominican-American woman, returns home to Brooklyn to find that her family is falling apart: one sister is careening toward mental collapse, another sister is living in a decrepit building with her abusive husband and three children, and a third sister has simply disappeared. In this dislocating urban environment Iliana reluctantly confronts the anger and desperation that seem to seep through every crack of her family's small house, and experiences all the contradictions, superstitions, joys, and pains that come from a life caught between two cultures. In this magnificent debut novel, filled with graceful prose and searing detail, Loida Maritza Pérez offers a penetrating portrait of the American immigrant experience as she explores the true meanings of identity, family--and home.
One of the most beautifully written books about coming of age in an immigrant family I’ve read in a while. The humanity of parents, children/ siblings are detailed. The hero/ villain dichotomy has no place. It’s a story of survival, forgiveness and boundary setting. … it took me a while to read because I felt the pain of the characters. This is definitely a novel one has to sit with/ take breaks from. Also, TW in the class chapters.
ah, finally a dominican writer who is a not a borderline Pollyannish type like Julia Perez. the hopelessness of living on a limited income in east new york brooklyn, the mental illnesses, the scary evangelical fanatisicms, had this family lived in south florida, they wouldn't have had half the problems that they did. they just weren't suited for the brutal, cold and wicked city of new york. they were a family that needed sunshine and stability, a nice backyard, and a clean ocean to swim in occasionally. i wondered why they weren't either perceptive and/or aware enough that they could abandon it for greener pastures. even the catskills, the poconos, or the Godforsaken Jersey Shore would have worked. Papi was a hard worker, an honorable, noble man nonetheless despite his 2 wayward daughters. Just keeping their heads above water was a nightmarish ordeal, but somehow, they did so, and they were exhausted. the outer borough new york city rut to the max is revealed here in crystal clear perception. Perez is a Dominican version of the WASPY novelist, John Cheever, indeed about the isolation and misery of the new york city suburbanite living in westchester county!
Geographies of Home explores home territories, and domestic terror: An abusive patriarch, rape, fire, a wife beaten and held hostage by her terrifying husband, child abuse and neglect, religion taken to an extreme, mental illness, and poverty. It hits all the lows in life without the levity of humor or happiness. I found the novel unrelenting in its darkness, a heavy-handed plot that became tedious. There is joy and humor in life. It’s not all chicken shit. This book seems to check all the pathos boxes. Its ending, a redemptive scene between Iliana and Papi, is muted. So little, so late, doesn’t bode well for Iliana’s future. I can’t believe that a single conversation with Papi and a hug before she leaves will wave a magic healing wand for Iliana and erase the pain of her past. I see echoes of other books here, but in a way that is student, not master.
Ugh. Don't waste your time. Yes, this book explores poverty and abuse as it follows a Dominican family with 14 grown children that moved to the U.S. And I liked the snippets of Spanish. But it was depressing, slow and rife with superstition. Worst case, there was a supernatural aspect to it that was totally not believable.
Geographies of Home by Loida Maritza Pérez was rhapsodically, mystical and contemporarily written. It played with framing stories that traveled in time. It was filled with rhapsodic metaphoric language and delicately infused with advanced vocabulary within prose. Loida’s ability to thread a story of about a good six protagonist is both overwhelming and fascinating. At first, I wasn’t sure if we were really talking about a ghost or if Iliana was making up stories in her head as she prepared to return home from college. However, this foreshadow prepared you for the ongoing story full of madness, grief, violence, war of perceptions and an outcry for the unconventional stories Dominicans in the United States struggle sharing. Mira, let me begin by saying, I added quite a few words to my English vocabulary after reading this story. I felt like a true scholar. Porque tu sabes. Sometimes we read stuff and be like why they use fretful instead of upset or irritated? Like do they like making me feel uncomfortable because dats not how we talk in Brooklyn, you feel me? Ha! Let me know when you get it. Carrying on…
I appreciate Loida for taking me into each characters internal dialogue and taking time in their personal thoughts, skewed perceptions and chaotic world. It was interesting to see how each of them had a different perception of each other all while being raised in the same home. Every chapter left me feeling like, que?
Enlightening to read— past scars and painful memories grappled the strict and verbally abusive ways they chose to behave and mistreat each other with. The way the traditions were both serving as protection and indignation. You can see how each child expected more from their parents and felt misunderstood. Each child wanted to feel loved, heard and most importantly appreciated. Yet, that is the complete opposite of what Aurelia and Papito embedded in their children. Unbeknownst to them, how the silence would eat away at their children and grow a hatred towards their home and personal lives.
A house where they raised fourteen children and all of them carried the pathological damages of deep rooted pain. It was heart breaking to read— Marina who was borderline schizophrenic and suffering a mid life crisis, was kept in that house without any mental health intervention. All because her parents had ignorant strong views on what they considered helpful for their daughter. Medical intervention was viewed as unholy and damaging when it was clear they couldn’t keep her or anyone around her safe. Apathy began to develop as I read— she was to be excused for all the pain and harm she caused her family due to her mental illness. Marina was brutally raped but it was hard to tell if the family ever knew or sought help to help her overcome what happened to her.
Then to read the way Tico was locked in the basement like a guard dog; the keeper of all the family secrets and the accused of Marina’s rape. Interestingly... visit https://www.astridferguson.com/blog/2... to read the whole review.
Wasn't crazy about the ending. If I had liked the ending a little more, the book would have been a 5. I liked her style of writing, I liked how she constantly switched between the different family members so that we learned about all of them, I liked that the book had magical realism in it, and I liked what the end of the book signified (I just wish I had some more answers regarding the fate of the other characters).
I give this an overall 7/10. Some chapters are written, very beautifully and perfectly detailed while others were extremely repetitive and even annoying. This was definitely the most raw and depressingly real book I’ve ever read. So much so to the point where it was hard for me to understand most of the characters and the way they acted. I appreciate the different perspective it gave me and I appreciated the closure that the last chapter gave without creating a falsely happy ending.
This book about an immigrant family from the Dominican Republic is incredibly depressing, but also enlightening. It shows the endurance of the human spirit and the tenuous relationships that bind families, for better, but mostly for worse.
If you'd like to read about how the American Dream does not happen for an immigrant family from the Dominican Republic, this is your book. It's rough, really rough; it's dark, really dark. The urban setting is stark and at times terrifying. Just about every horrible act from rape to murder, from poverty to racist hate, from sexist domination to child abuse wrecks havoc on this family. About three quarters through the reading, I almost threw the book across the room, saying "That's enough. I cannot stand any more." Some family members are despicable; others have some redeeming qualities and only a few are willing to get their lives together. I clung to my hopes for those few so I could finish the novel.
I completed reading this novel because the writing itself is well crafted and I'd once met the author, a lovely person, even if her subject matter is depressive. Here's one nicely crafted passage bringing together a feminist self-realization and the immigrant experience: "In the presence of strangers like those she had sheltered herself from since her arrival in the United States and in a hospital worlds removed from the New York depicted on postcards her eldest daughter had mailed to the Dominican Republic, Aurelia for the first time granted herself permission to sprout roots past concrete into soil. Throughout more than fifteen years of moving from apartment to apartment, she had dreamed, not of returning, but of going home. Of going home to a place not located on any map but nonetheless preventing her from settling in any other. Only now did she understand that her soul had yearned not for a geographical site but for a frame of mind able to accommodate any place as home (p137)."
I cannot advise "enjoy," because it won't happen; yet seeing brutal America through the eyes of the immigrant poor may prove revealing. I do advise, however, making a list of the numerous characters as you begin to read as it helped me keep them separate in my mind until I read a few chapters further into the book. Lastly, if you like dark books, this is a good one for you.
I didn't trust the other reviews that warned against the mysticism. I should have. I was fine with it right up until actual voodoo killing. I think there must have been a way to have let the character die in a way that left it ambiguous if it was murder or not. Making it so certain was a big detractor. The character could have been just as confident, but the narrator didn't have to be.
For the most part, the imagery is beautiful, the story is compelling and as long as you are okay with a relentlessly depressing narrative, it is a worthwhile read. It's really close to being a great book, but the writing does leave something to be desired. She uses "her youngest daughter" instead of "iliana" and things like that so much that it is genuinely distracting. There are some other weirdnesses with disjointed tone and story telling. And overall, the weight of the book was greatly lessened by one issue that wasn't addressed and probably should have been : HAVE LESS KIDS. Many of the problems that plagued the family just didn't feel like they had to do with the injustices and difficulties of immigration, but were self inflicted by having too many damn kids. The problems that iliana faced at college were definitely the former. I feel like her ending up feeling so uncomfortable at home, even before marina attacked her, were the latter. It seemed like the product of a family dynamic that could have worked with five or six children, but was bound to buckle under the constant financial pressure of that many mouths to feed and that many peoples worth of problems. Almost all family dynamics would crack. That's just way way too many damn kids.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
It took time for me to make my way through Perez's novel because I was overwhelmed by her direct gaze and unflinching examination of life for a Dominican immigrant family in America. Powerful work about culture, poverty, and the darkness of families doing their best in the worst circumstances instead of the promised American Dream that brought them to New York City. Ostensibly built around the experience of one daughter, Iliana, and her attempt to return home after facing prejudices while attending college in whitebread New England, GEOGRAPHIES OF HOME is a haunting examination of violence, silence, religious promise and hypocrisy, and mental illness while trying to maintain and raise a family despite impossible odds. Ultimately a story of love and redemption; a tale that gave me great pause. I had to face circumstances boldly rather than ignore, them and open my mind to a different but sadly objective perspective -- plus the characters and writing captured me. I feel I am better for having read this amazing work.
The thing that I probably liked most about this book was Pérez’s writing style. Anyone who grew up in a Dominican household knows that family must always come first. Even being in my mid-30s, I tend to put my family’s needs before my own. I completed related to Iliana’s (the main character) need and mindset that she needed to be there for her family. However, that’s where the similarities end, which also made this an interesting read for me personally. The father was super strict and super religious - though he felt that this would help his children, it actually damaged them. The mother thought that letting her husband lead was also best. Meanwhile, we learn through the thoughts of their children that everything the parents had a heavy hand in the troubles of the three daughters that are the focal point of this book. By the end of the book, I was going for a sequel so I could see how the awakening each character experiences changes their lives.
I was immediately drawn to the main character, Iliana, and the questions she seemed to be exploring. Why is my family broken when others are normal? What long past incident can I pin current failings to? Is there some supernatural force that drives the evil I can’t escape?
There are whispers of magical realism - or perhaps magical thinking - that lift the narrative and seem to offer hope of redemption. The story is carried fluidly through the darkest month of a year, while slipping through different points of view and occasional memories.
I found the struggle of hope and redemption through mental illness, violence, poverty, domestic abuse, and self-doubt to be at once chilling and captivating. The writing is exquisite as it is heartbreaking.
I haven't been heartbroken and familiarized with the book in a long time. This book is great, but I found myself hating characters like never in my life, because they were me. somehow, Iliana is me. Marina is me. I see my parents in Aurelia and Papito and I don't like what I see. this book is great to show the immigration story of a Dominican family and what a religious family does para aparentar. this book is not happy, but it's needed.
This was a difficult novel to process. I hear a colleague rave about it, so I picked it up. It deals with so much abuse, neglect, domestic violence, mental illness, it was overwhelming. My colleague is a social worker, so I can imagine how this book may be part of "narrative therapy" -- but be prepared for how incredibly sad this book is a times.
I had great expectations about this novel from having read about Pérez's works before. I have to say I was disappointed. Although the prose is addicting and quite hard to drop, the ending was somewhat cliché. Also, I'm unsure as to the ethics of the novel's attempts at depicting violence.
When I began this book it felt like an echo or another version of Angie Cruz's Soledad which I read right before this, as it begins as the story of a Dominican girl coming home from college to deal with illness and dysfunction in her family, but Geographies of Home is much more stark and raw, and spends more time with other members of the huge family (14 brothers and sisters), and the elements of so-called "magical realism" are more scattered and left to exist in the realm of doubt and uncertainty. The book's ending as well does not seek some kind of resolution in a return to the homeland (the DR), but leaves itself open and unresolved, sad and unsure.
Unfortunately, some of the prose is a little too clunky and unartful for me, and some of the aspects and relationships are left a little too open-ended and seem almost irrelevant (like Iliana's friendship with gay Ed, or the allusions to her former friends in the Seventh Day Adventist Church her family is a part of).
Pérez presents difficult situations that are real and raw, which made this book emotionally challenging to read. Some I could relate to and required stepping back to look at objectively while others I could not. She does not present a solution or a happy ending to the realities one could face within the Dominican diaspora but instead invites reflection and a glance at what some face. This novel allows us to open up discussions on subject matters we keep silent but is ever present. The situations of racism, rape, abuse, identity crisis, self-hate are not unique to the Dominican culture but it is there and possibly how the culture responds to it is different from another.
For me, this book has provided further affirmation that my experience is real and that there are other experiences I have been blind to or unaware of. My hope is to continue to find more pieces and find space to discuss, support and grow.
dude. this is an intense book. i'm not sure i would have read it if i knew how often domestic and sexual violence would be described in graphic detail. it is violence in a real context, a well-woven story. though the ending wasn't that great. a bit of the magical realism i like in many latin american authors. i don't know how strongly i'd recommend it unless you can stomach the violent aspects.
Heart-wrenching story of a Dominican family, each member struggling to mend their broken spirits. Very sad but so true of many people's experiences. The oldest sister's story was particularly painful to read--suffering abuse at the hands of the man that "saved" her from her family. Allowing her kids to suffer just to spite her mother. Sigh so sad
Well written novel about a family from the Dominican Republic living in New York. The trials and horrible things they face are a bit over the top (if fiction, and completely horrible if based on reality), but such exaggeration lends to the message of surviving and staying with family.
I can't tell if this was a depressing waste of time, or art.
Language isn't thick, but the subject matter is intense and Perez defies the constraining mainstream concept of "hope" or "progress" or "slightly less depressing regions of the text."