Eleven year old Juana lives with her Amá and Apá in their little shack at the outskirts of their village in Mexico. On the night of a flood which enters their shack, her mother leaves Juana on top of the table holding the baby, Anita, to go look for her husband. Juana falls asleep and loses hold of the baby, which drowns. Now in debt again to the wealthiest man in the village, Don Elías, who paid for the funeral, Apá decides to risk everything and go to America to earn the money to pay off Don Elías.
When no word comes from Apá - Miguel Garcia - the other villagers taunt Juana and her mother, Lupe, with the hideous word: abandoned. But there's still Don Elías to pay off, and there's only one thing he's asking for and one thing Lupe can give: her body.
As her mother declines further into guilt, depression, craziness and alcohol, Juana never gives up hope that her father is just across the mountains, that he hasn't forgotten or abandoned them. Her determination to find him sees her travel to Mexico City, where she meets Adelina, who helps her find the coyote who helped her father cross the border.
Simply told, Across a Hundred Mountains is a deceptively light, quick read. At its heart, it's beautiful. It has an interesting structure: instead of chapters, the story is told in short scenes from Juana and Adelina's two stories - Juana moving forward from the night of the flood, always in the right order, and Adelina moving back and forth in time, but mostly forward also, yet told from a dozen years in the future. Their stories don't converge until near the end, by which time you've figured out the twist already. I wish I could just spell it out so I could speak more freely about this novel, but I always try to avoid spoilers where I can. (The last thing I'd want to do is spoil the reading magic for anyone else!)
Juana is such a wonderful protagonist, kind and compassionate, determined, vulnerable, strong, resilient. She's a real hero. I loved her to bits. Grande writes sparingly, with minimal adjectives and fairly sparse descriptions, but still the story, the setting, and the characters become vivid in your mind. Juana's voice grows and matures from a little girl trying to be strong to an adult woman trying to make up for the past. I tend to like more description, plumping out the setting and the characters, but interestingly enough the lack of denser prose worked very well here. Stripped down to the bare story, told with compassion and sympathy and yet also respectful distance, it becomes an unsentimental story, one stark and honest that lets you think for yourself and come closer to understanding the human side of the story of illegal immigrants.
In this way, though it's clearly sympathetic to them, it manages to avoid a political agenda. Telling instead the story of these people, what they endure, what they live every day, and their motivations for going to a country that doesn't want them and treats them like cattle - it's sad and fascinating at the same time. (I couldn't help but think that if the Mexicans weren't exploited with poor wages at home, they wouldn't need to cross the border to earn money - of course, it's not that simple, and yet it is.)
This is a delightful story, woven like a tapestry with a deft hand, wonderfully human and not at all self-indulgent.