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Our Migrant Souls
A new book by the Pulitzer Prize – winning writer about the twenty-first-century Latino experience and identity.
In Our Migrant Souls , the Pulitzer Prize–winning writer Héctor Tobar delivers a definitive and personal exploration of what it means to be Latino in the United States right now.
“Latino” is the most open-ended and loosely defined of the major race categories in the United States, and also one of the most rapidly growing. Composed as a direct address to the young people who identify or have been classified as “Latino,” Our Migrant Souls is the first account of the historical and social forces that define Latino identity.
Taking on the impacts of colonialism, public policy, immigration, media, and pop culture, Our Migrant Souls decodes the meaning of “Latino” as a racial and ethnic identity in the modern United States, and gives voice to the anger and the hopes of young Latino people who have seen Latinidad transformed into hateful tropes and who have faced insult and division―a story as old as this country itself.
Tobar translates his experience as not only a journalist and novelist but also a mentor, a leader, and an educator. He interweaves his own story, and that of his parents’ migration to the United States from Guatemala, into his account of his journey across the country to uncover something expansive, inspiring, true, and alive about the meaning of “Latino” in the twenty-first century.
In Our Migrant Souls , the Pulitzer Prize–winning writer Héctor Tobar delivers a definitive and personal exploration of what it means to be Latino in the United States right now.
“Latino” is the most open-ended and loosely defined of the major race categories in the United States, and also one of the most rapidly growing. Composed as a direct address to the young people who identify or have been classified as “Latino,” Our Migrant Souls is the first account of the historical and social forces that define Latino identity.
Taking on the impacts of colonialism, public policy, immigration, media, and pop culture, Our Migrant Souls decodes the meaning of “Latino” as a racial and ethnic identity in the modern United States, and gives voice to the anger and the hopes of young Latino people who have seen Latinidad transformed into hateful tropes and who have faced insult and division―a story as old as this country itself.
Tobar translates his experience as not only a journalist and novelist but also a mentor, a leader, and an educator. He interweaves his own story, and that of his parents’ migration to the United States from Guatemala, into his account of his journey across the country to uncover something expansive, inspiring, true, and alive about the meaning of “Latino” in the twenty-first century.
256 pages, Paperback
Published September 24, 2024
394 people are currently reading
14728 people want to read
About the author
Héctor Tobar
22 books233 followersHéctor Tobar, now a weekly columnist for the Los Angeles Times, is a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist and a novelist. He is the author of Translation Nation and The Tattooed Soldier. The son of Guatemalan immigrants, he is a native of the city of Los Angeles, where he lives with his wife and three children.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 336 reviews
September 21, 2023
One of the best nonfiction books I’ve read this year, an incisive and powerful book about the experience of diverse Latinx people within the United States. Héctor Tobar writes about so many nuances of Latinx identity and experience, ranging from the border crisis/border trauma, colorism, colonialism, racist depictions in media, immigration, and more. I like how he integrated his own life story, perspectives from students he’s taught, diverse forms of art, and more. I feel that it can be difficult to write a nonfiction book about topics like these in a way that doesn’t become a pure rant (which is also fair given how heinous racism against Latinx people is), though Tobar is able to both write with compelling, controlled flourish and convey his points with conviction and poignancy. In a way, this reminded me of Cathy Park Hong’s
Minor Feelings
, which felt similarly striking at the time of its publication.
While the ending was a bit abstract, I appreciated Tobar’s note of hope and his call to activism. Well-written and educational without sacrificing style or depth, I’d recommend this book.
While the ending was a bit abstract, I appreciated Tobar’s note of hope and his call to activism. Well-written and educational without sacrificing style or depth, I’d recommend this book.
April 29, 2023
This book feels like a call to everyone who identifies with latinidad all around the United States. Race is, indeed, a performance, every single day, and for Latinos in the US it’s all about what labels, contexts and views white people ascribe to you. This book spoke to that constant identity crisis, the identity crisis that constantly leaves you explaining your own roots, culture and experiences to white people.
This book deeply spoke to me, as someone who’s mixed Latina (and yes I also hate that word, as if it describes the indigenous roots of my family) and white. I spent much of my life paying close attention to the signals white people gave me about what they thought I was and naturally, this could vary across a large continuum. It has been a long journey for me to be firm in my claim on who I am because, to me, regardless of how you perceive me, there are implications of being Latina that no one else can take from me.
The implications are discussed in this book. The rage about the border crisis, the mourning, the need to belong, those of us who watch our older Latino relatives claim white politics for survival, the mass struggle for belonging in this country, the trivialization of our work. Importantly, the history of “Latino” is discussed and the constant intertwining with our oppressors in our descriptions of our ethnic identity. Latinidad is an identity that bares many hardships, but also should be reclaimed and defined by us and for us.
This book is an inspiring, heart wrenching and raw read. It connects latinidad to many other identities and groups across the US, please read!
-------------------------
I got this as an ALC from Libro.FM for booksellers, though this did not influence my review (:
This book deeply spoke to me, as someone who’s mixed Latina (and yes I also hate that word, as if it describes the indigenous roots of my family) and white. I spent much of my life paying close attention to the signals white people gave me about what they thought I was and naturally, this could vary across a large continuum. It has been a long journey for me to be firm in my claim on who I am because, to me, regardless of how you perceive me, there are implications of being Latina that no one else can take from me.
The implications are discussed in this book. The rage about the border crisis, the mourning, the need to belong, those of us who watch our older Latino relatives claim white politics for survival, the mass struggle for belonging in this country, the trivialization of our work. Importantly, the history of “Latino” is discussed and the constant intertwining with our oppressors in our descriptions of our ethnic identity. Latinidad is an identity that bares many hardships, but also should be reclaimed and defined by us and for us.
This book is an inspiring, heart wrenching and raw read. It connects latinidad to many other identities and groups across the US, please read!
-------------------------
I got this as an ALC from Libro.FM for booksellers, though this did not influence my review (:
October 27, 2024
Excellent! rtc
4.5ish Stars
Listened to the audiobook. Andre Santana was excellent!
4.5ish Stars
Listened to the audiobook. Andre Santana was excellent!
August 5, 2023
I liked so many of the essays in this book. I liked the writing style. I liked the idea. As individual meditations I think each essay is strongly argued and very good. As a cohesive book this one left something to be desired. Overall well done, but just missing that thing that really makes a book sing.
January 17, 2024
On my daily commute, I pass enormous homes with long driveways and manicured lawns. During spring and summer, the verdant grasses and shrubs are trimmed by Latino peoples. Whenever I go to Target, or to a restaurant, Latino peoples are taking out the trash or collecting our empty plates. I can hear salsa music on the radio while the cooks prepare the next order.
A lot of my classmates were Latinos. The men that stood in the corners of our main street, waiting to be picked up by landscaping or construction trucks were Latino. The storefronts I passed on my way to school sold food from Latino countries.
I grew up in a town whose population is mostly Latinos – a mix of Puerto Rican, Colombian, Peruvian, Mexican, Guatemalan, and Honduran, just to name a few.
The United States is not a melting pot, but a smorgasbord of different peoples from different countries, with their own languages and cultures.
Hector Tabor tackles the myths that Latinos are “destroying the US” by taking jobs or “poisoning” American culture by implanting their own. He speaks on the stereotypical roles that Latinos have been subjected to in movies and tv and literature. Tabor fills the pages with anecdotes of his own family’s history and their experience with immigration. He asks why words like “Mexican” and “immigrant” became racial slurs and looks for answers.
I listened to this on Audible and it was well narrated. There are many Spanish words and phrases here, and Andre Santana has no problem with pronunciation. I enjoyed Tabor’s writing – simple yet effective. Each chapter served as an essay to a certain topic.
This served as a good reminder that I should expand my library with Latino authors. I try to be conscience of my mestizo heritage, and to teach my kids about our vibrant history.
A lot of my classmates were Latinos. The men that stood in the corners of our main street, waiting to be picked up by landscaping or construction trucks were Latino. The storefronts I passed on my way to school sold food from Latino countries.
I grew up in a town whose population is mostly Latinos – a mix of Puerto Rican, Colombian, Peruvian, Mexican, Guatemalan, and Honduran, just to name a few.
The United States is not a melting pot, but a smorgasbord of different peoples from different countries, with their own languages and cultures.
Hector Tabor tackles the myths that Latinos are “destroying the US” by taking jobs or “poisoning” American culture by implanting their own. He speaks on the stereotypical roles that Latinos have been subjected to in movies and tv and literature. Tabor fills the pages with anecdotes of his own family’s history and their experience with immigration. He asks why words like “Mexican” and “immigrant” became racial slurs and looks for answers.
I listened to this on Audible and it was well narrated. There are many Spanish words and phrases here, and Andre Santana has no problem with pronunciation. I enjoyed Tabor’s writing – simple yet effective. Each chapter served as an essay to a certain topic.
This served as a good reminder that I should expand my library with Latino authors. I try to be conscience of my mestizo heritage, and to teach my kids about our vibrant history.
June 23, 2023
Our Migrant Souls is a beautiful, book-length essay filled with indignation, melancholy, and, most importantly, love. Love for Latinos, love for a mixing of races and cultures, love for breaking free of outdated, restrictive stories.
Unlike his earlier Translation Nation: Defining a New American Identity in the Spanish-Speaking United States, which was essentially a compilation of mini-profiles of Latinos across the United States, this book masterfully weaves the stories of his students, the people that he meets, and his own family into a moving treatise about what connects Latinos of all sorts and about the future we can create if we fight the oppressive capitalist system that dehumanizes the poor and the brown and Black.
Read it. If, like me, you're Latino, it will fill you with pride. If you're not, it will open your eyes to the people all around you that you're failing to see.
Unlike his earlier Translation Nation: Defining a New American Identity in the Spanish-Speaking United States, which was essentially a compilation of mini-profiles of Latinos across the United States, this book masterfully weaves the stories of his students, the people that he meets, and his own family into a moving treatise about what connects Latinos of all sorts and about the future we can create if we fight the oppressive capitalist system that dehumanizes the poor and the brown and Black.
Read it. If, like me, you're Latino, it will fill you with pride. If you're not, it will open your eyes to the people all around you that you're failing to see.
November 11, 2022
I just finished proofing this book. It was brilliant. Going to be big I think.
October 1, 2023
4.5 stars. The prose just got a little bit too corny and/or predictable for me to love it as much as I've loved some nonfiction books on similar topics. Definitely a must-read for its accessibility and scope, however. Its content is beautiful and promising.
August 22, 2023
Read half of it, and ‘listened’ to half of it (audiobook). I can probably listen to Héctor Tobar talk for hours (he’s not the audiobook narrator of his book, but you get what I meant by that) and fully enjoy and/or appreciate every minute of it.
Reading this made me want to read The Holy Days of Gregorio Pasos again (which I've read not very long ago, and loved every moment of reading it). Also I don't understand why anyone would rate Tobar's book any less than 5*. The writing is brilliant, so I don't understand what one would have a problem with?
‘Writing history one ethnic or racial channel at a time was, and is, a necessary corrective to the erasures of the stories and contributions of people of colour. But when we tell the story of a community that way, we can miss all sorts of human-created complexity; it’s like listening to a symphony in which each musician enters the concert hall and plays the entirety of their contribution to the work separately and then leaves the stage for the next musician to play their part. What emerges is something less beautiful and less compelling than the act of cooperation and coordination you can hear when all the musicians perform onstage together.’
‘I visited a San Francisco art gallery that a photojournalist and artist had filled with black-and-white images of Mexicans and others being tied up and hustled away by the Border Patrol south of San Diego. This was in the mid-1980s, long before any fence or wall was built there. The detained immigrants had the startled expressions of children caught misbehaving, or confused peasants caught up in a modern legal system they couldn’t hope to understand. One handcuffed woman wore a shirt that bore the words HIGH LIFE. The photograph reveled in the irony. I told the photographer I objected to the quantity and monotony of the images, which hit the same pathetic and melodramatic note over and over. To mount them on a wall and call it art was offensive, I told him. Each of his subjects possessed a personality he had failed to capture. “Dude, this isn’t who they are,” I said. “This isn’t who we are.”
Three decades later, visuals of immigrant suffering have become the dominant representation of Latino people in United States journalism. We see Latino men and women detained at street corners, locked inside pens, weeping as they say farewell to their children before surrendering to the authorities who will deport them. The relationship between those stark images and the reality of Latino life is analogous to the relationship between pornography and literature. Like pornography, these images are meant to give the viewer dominance over their subjects; they portray brown people who are docile and submissive, aliens to the orderly and affluent rule of white America.’
‘An interviewer once asked me when I was happiest: “When I see my children reading” was my answer. I feel deep emotion when I hear my sons and daughter engage in witty wordplay, or when I hear them discuss matters of history and art, because I can remember the Latin American poverty and illiteracy in my family’s near past, and because I have seen my own family members humbled and humiliated by the micro- and macro-aggressions of racism in the present.’
Reading this made me want to read The Holy Days of Gregorio Pasos again (which I've read not very long ago, and loved every moment of reading it). Also I don't understand why anyone would rate Tobar's book any less than 5*. The writing is brilliant, so I don't understand what one would have a problem with?
June 19, 2023
This book was certainly interesting and definitely worth the read if for no other reason than there are few books like it that are readily available (at least in my area). In this book, Tobar (the author) explores and explains what it means to be Latino in America, both pre- and post-Trump.
Black voices have been rising in books and media over the last several years, but in my opinion, there's still a serious lack of Latinx/Hispanic voices out there. I've read fiction books by Hispanic and Latinx writers, but this is the first book of this kind that I've come across.
So, if you want to expand your boundaries and venture into literature by authors outside your race, I highly recommend this book for that reason alone.
As for the content, I was torn. Tobar shares many personal experiences and illustrates what life was like growing up in LA as the son of Guatemalan-born parents, He reaches out to his students and people in his community, as well, so it isn't strictly his voice we're reading.
He highlights some really important points, such as showcasing how American society constantly overlooks, ignores, and denigrates new immigrants and migrants and discounts their experiences and the sadness and turmoil they sometimes suffer. How no one really pays attention to the fact that they "don't fit in" anywhere -- especially those of mixed-race heritage.
He also does a great job of pointing out the strength of those immigrants who make it to America and built successful new lives. He illustrates the importance of programs like DACA and touches briefly on American politics concerning migrants and immigrants.
However, the book fell a little flat in some places. It was slow and didn't always keep my interest in certain spots. I'd find myself zoning out and having to go back and re-listen (I read the audiobook) to portions I'd already heard because I wasn't REALLY listening.
I also felt he didn't do enough to shine a light on the many positive contributions Latino and Hispanic people have made in, for, and to the United States. I suppose that wasn't really the goal of his book - he was taking a more person approach - but it still would have been nice.
I think the book was good; I think the book is important. And I hope it opens a doorway for many other Latinx/Hispanic writers, but I do think the pacing could have been a little better. And I think there were places where the book was a little too dry. Overall, though, still a good read.
Black voices have been rising in books and media over the last several years, but in my opinion, there's still a serious lack of Latinx/Hispanic voices out there. I've read fiction books by Hispanic and Latinx writers, but this is the first book of this kind that I've come across.
So, if you want to expand your boundaries and venture into literature by authors outside your race, I highly recommend this book for that reason alone.
As for the content, I was torn. Tobar shares many personal experiences and illustrates what life was like growing up in LA as the son of Guatemalan-born parents, He reaches out to his students and people in his community, as well, so it isn't strictly his voice we're reading.
He highlights some really important points, such as showcasing how American society constantly overlooks, ignores, and denigrates new immigrants and migrants and discounts their experiences and the sadness and turmoil they sometimes suffer. How no one really pays attention to the fact that they "don't fit in" anywhere -- especially those of mixed-race heritage.
He also does a great job of pointing out the strength of those immigrants who make it to America and built successful new lives. He illustrates the importance of programs like DACA and touches briefly on American politics concerning migrants and immigrants.
However, the book fell a little flat in some places. It was slow and didn't always keep my interest in certain spots. I'd find myself zoning out and having to go back and re-listen (I read the audiobook) to portions I'd already heard because I wasn't REALLY listening.
I also felt he didn't do enough to shine a light on the many positive contributions Latino and Hispanic people have made in, for, and to the United States. I suppose that wasn't really the goal of his book - he was taking a more person approach - but it still would have been nice.
I think the book was good; I think the book is important. And I hope it opens a doorway for many other Latinx/Hispanic writers, but I do think the pacing could have been a little better. And I think there were places where the book was a little too dry. Overall, though, still a good read.
July 5, 2023
Héctor Tobar’s new book, Our Migrant Souls, should be required reading for everyone living in the US. A son of Guatemalan immigrants who grew up in Los Angeles and is now a professor at the University of California, Irvine, Tobar infuses his book about the multitudinous facets of latinidad identity in the US today with personal narratives from his students and the stories of their families.
Throughout these chapters, Tobar tackles a lot of issues. I loved reading his dissection of the racist narratives about “Latinos” in popular media, from cartel dramas, which are essentially the 21st century incarnation of the trope of dark natives circling the wagons of white families, to well-meaning portrayals of helpless refugees that nevertheless strip people of their agency and humanity and center the narrative on white saviors. There are a lot of profound meditations on the constructs of race that have been used throughout history to justify colonialism, empire building, and genocide, and now to justify the unconscionable treatment of refugees at the US-Mexico border. But this book is also a deeply personal, deeply empathetic tribute to his and all the other families whose experiences interweave a vast tapestry of Latino identity.
I was often reminded of James Baldwin’s powerful and impassioned eloquence in these essays, so it was moving to see Tobar mention towards the end of the book how influential Baldwin’s works have been to him as a writer. I already know this is going to be one of my favorites of 2023, and you should look for it if you haven’t read it yet.
Throughout these chapters, Tobar tackles a lot of issues. I loved reading his dissection of the racist narratives about “Latinos” in popular media, from cartel dramas, which are essentially the 21st century incarnation of the trope of dark natives circling the wagons of white families, to well-meaning portrayals of helpless refugees that nevertheless strip people of their agency and humanity and center the narrative on white saviors. There are a lot of profound meditations on the constructs of race that have been used throughout history to justify colonialism, empire building, and genocide, and now to justify the unconscionable treatment of refugees at the US-Mexico border. But this book is also a deeply personal, deeply empathetic tribute to his and all the other families whose experiences interweave a vast tapestry of Latino identity.
I was often reminded of James Baldwin’s powerful and impassioned eloquence in these essays, so it was moving to see Tobar mention towards the end of the book how influential Baldwin’s works have been to him as a writer. I already know this is going to be one of my favorites of 2023, and you should look for it if you haven’t read it yet.
April 3, 2024
I thought this was a beautifully written and engaging book — I especially loved the intersectionalism highlighted throughout
December 6, 2024
A touching and tender rendition of the variety of Latino experience.
July 3, 2025
So incredibly powerful, insightful, and engaging
July 21, 2023
I'll probably be sitting with this one for a while. Our Migrant Souls: A Meditation on Race and the Meanings and Myths of “Latino” is a beautifully written book, and it had me tearing up from its early pages. It's filled with the dignity of Latinos—my people!—in the face of a society that so often sees us as less-than or lower class or even forgettable.
Overall, I felt most moved by the reflections on the inhumanity at the border, how we treat immigrants, and how white upper-class life boasts its "self-sufficiency" when its entire order is built on Latino labor. I loved the emphasis on the solidarity between Latinos and Asian-Americans and African-Americans (both of which I have experienced personally!).
One of the best chapters is toward the end, "Home," and it is just a series of vignettes about Latinos across the country—first, second, third generation; Cuban, Mexican, Chicano, Guatemalan; Republican, Democrat—and how they experience their own sense of place and their struggle. It's a profound reminder that Latinos are not a monolith, and that no singular narrative can encapsulate what we all have experienced.
On another note, I feel a strange sense of loss when I read books like Our Migrant Souls”. Although a certain version of Christianity has played a role in creating racial logics, it also has such powerful resources to blow them up altogether. Toward the end of the book, Tobar writes that "community is born from our shared and intersecting experiences of empire and displacement." But I think that's untrue and gives empire more credit than it deserves.
Community is built on the basis of our common dignity, of being made in the image of God, crowned with glory and honor and creativity and joy. Racial logics are fundamentally untrue, yes, but they are untrue because we bear the same image. And it is a positive, generative, creative power that gives community meaning, not a negative, destroying, dehumanizing power.
Overall, I felt most moved by the reflections on the inhumanity at the border, how we treat immigrants, and how white upper-class life boasts its "self-sufficiency" when its entire order is built on Latino labor. I loved the emphasis on the solidarity between Latinos and Asian-Americans and African-Americans (both of which I have experienced personally!).
One of the best chapters is toward the end, "Home," and it is just a series of vignettes about Latinos across the country—first, second, third generation; Cuban, Mexican, Chicano, Guatemalan; Republican, Democrat—and how they experience their own sense of place and their struggle. It's a profound reminder that Latinos are not a monolith, and that no singular narrative can encapsulate what we all have experienced.
On another note, I feel a strange sense of loss when I read books like Our Migrant Souls”. Although a certain version of Christianity has played a role in creating racial logics, it also has such powerful resources to blow them up altogether. Toward the end of the book, Tobar writes that "community is born from our shared and intersecting experiences of empire and displacement." But I think that's untrue and gives empire more credit than it deserves.
Community is built on the basis of our common dignity, of being made in the image of God, crowned with glory and honor and creativity and joy. Racial logics are fundamentally untrue, yes, but they are untrue because we bear the same image. And it is a positive, generative, creative power that gives community meaning, not a negative, destroying, dehumanizing power.
June 17, 2025
I have been feeling a lot of anger because of the government’s asymmetric warfare on Latino immigrants; a lot of this happening while my parents, the kingpins of my heritage and community, were with me really just refined the depth of this anger. My life is so comparatively, stupidly, ridiculously easy to my dad’s and my grandpa’s when they were my age, crossing the border to do the work that scaffolds America with no recognition of their labor besides ignorance, exploitation, and violence. I remember when I was 9 and quizzing my grandpa in prep for his American citizenship exam, and thinking that it was crazy that he had to know all this to become a citizen when I was a citizen and knew nothing at all.
I appreciated this book immensely. It’s leaving me with a stronger understanding, as well as a feeling of being understood. There were many accounts of Latinos talking about their relationship to words and literacy (or illiteracy), and it contextualized my mom’s emphasis on my reading when I was very small - neither of my parents are readers, but my mom got me a library card at age three and filled our living room with posters of the alphabet when I was just 7 months old. I’ve only ever reflected upon this in the context of me as an individual, as if it was coincidence and fate; but Tobar made a point about how our lives as Latinos can seem like a matter of fate or coincidence, but only if we ignore history, context, and family. I am going to think about this book for a long time! Thank you to my best friend for the gift!
I appreciated this book immensely. It’s leaving me with a stronger understanding, as well as a feeling of being understood. There were many accounts of Latinos talking about their relationship to words and literacy (or illiteracy), and it contextualized my mom’s emphasis on my reading when I was very small - neither of my parents are readers, but my mom got me a library card at age three and filled our living room with posters of the alphabet when I was just 7 months old. I’ve only ever reflected upon this in the context of me as an individual, as if it was coincidence and fate; but Tobar made a point about how our lives as Latinos can seem like a matter of fate or coincidence, but only if we ignore history, context, and family. I am going to think about this book for a long time! Thank you to my best friend for the gift!
July 3, 2024
Part memoir, part travelogue to his family home in Guatemala and homes of other Latinos around the US, part character study of Frida Kahlo and James Earl Ray and students and acquaintances and historical figures linked only by their ethnicity. This book has interesting sections but devolves into stream of consciousness rants on racism and the plight of immigrants, their portrayal in media and movies, governmental policies. Tobar is angry. Takeaways are the Latinos are an amalgamation of races and cultures and Tobar believes that an open border is the only humane solution.
December 26, 2025
It is easy to want to put my head in the sand from the sheer amount of crazy coming from the political hemisphere and the insane amount of horror as seen with immigration, various wars and genocides, famous celebrities being unveiled for heinous crimes against others... the list goes on and on. And, to be fair, sometimes it is important for mental health to turn it off for a moment. It's also important to turn the news back on once burnout is avoided, so that we can raise our voices and march and petition legislators, and be vocal about the changes that need to be made to protect those who don't have the luxury of turning it off.
January 28, 2025
really well written and engaging
February 27, 2025
Race is a construct! White is a construct! Latinidad is synonymous with mixed!
April 2, 2025
Beautifully written - lyrical prose that strikes notes of melancholy, rage, and hope.
Read
July 11, 2023i am in a bit of an audiobook slump and i think if i wasn't i would've enjoyed this more, but i really have nothing bad to say about it. the parts i remember are very smart and thoughtful
December 30, 2023
small but mighty and so so important
devoured this
devoured this
October 1, 2025
like 3.5-4! it didn’t say much that was new but the author has some great prose in here. some chapters were stronger than others. glad i read!
October 6, 2023
This book is a beautiful testimony from Tobar that ties together academic research, life experience, and interviews in a stunning meditation on race. As creative nonfiction, it packs a punch while being easy to read with a good flow.
Tobar discusses immigration, borders, and history in a unique way that captures what it is like to be Latinx in America. This novel functions as a foundational text for understanding race, along with greater like Angela Davis and James Baldwin (whom Tobar is especially fond of).
Anyone wishing to look deeper into the construction of Latinx as a racial identity should read this first. Having the framework gives other texts more complexity and adds to the experience of them in an amazing way. Few books can be both great on their own, but also serve to boost the readers understanding and connection with other texts the way Migrant Souls does. A must read.
Tobar discusses immigration, borders, and history in a unique way that captures what it is like to be Latinx in America. This novel functions as a foundational text for understanding race, along with greater like Angela Davis and James Baldwin (whom Tobar is especially fond of).
Anyone wishing to look deeper into the construction of Latinx as a racial identity should read this first. Having the framework gives other texts more complexity and adds to the experience of them in an amazing way. Few books can be both great on their own, but also serve to boost the readers understanding and connection with other texts the way Migrant Souls does. A must read.
November 26, 2025
Wonderful story, the interwoven relations of races across generations and locations was interesting to learn about. I am interested in picking up other books by this author.
February 28, 2025
I’m embracing the world wide socio-governmental collapse and just trying to make it through and help others make it through as best as we can. Godspeed all 🥳
November 2, 2023
4 stars for the book as a cohesive unit but 5 stars for the essays "Ashes" and "Lies" which include a blistering rebuke of how, by pushing people into the desert, the United States has created a machinary of mass death that allows us to avoid looking that death in the face.
May 31, 2023
Hector Tobar is a very good storyteller and immensely talented writer. Having said that, outside of enjoying his wordsmithing, this was a mediocre read. Tobar really showed his age and perhaps his academic isolation. People in 2023 America aren't surprised to see Latinos anywhere from the boardwalk to boardrooms and you have to be a Midwestern senoir citizen to think the only people speaking Spanish you'll encounter will be landscapers and domestic helpers. Although I will absolutely agree, representation in film and TV is definitely lacking. Tobar also failed to talk much about the unique and sometimes rocky relationship between the Latino and African-American communities in Southern California. Overall, the ideas presented are fairly boiler-plate for what you'll hear from academics in the field.
Another note. Tobar mentioned he visited a church in LA that was once an Ashkenazi synagogue founded by immigrants from Rhodes. It was actually a Sephardic congregation.
Another note. Tobar mentioned he visited a church in LA that was once an Ashkenazi synagogue founded by immigrants from Rhodes. It was actually a Sephardic congregation.
July 10, 2023
As a queer Puerto Rican, I found this read to be very informative and close to home. Tobar explores a range of topics and conversations within the Latinx community. While I found the pacing in the middle to be a bit slow, I’m glad I finished this read. My favorite component of this was actually towards the end, when Tobar spoke to a variety of Latine people. The Latin American diaspora was captured— from young DREAMERS to conservative Latinos. I can definitely see myself picking up this book again.
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