Wow. Wow wow wow. This is an incredible and important book.
Ander & Santi Were Here follows Ander, a nonbinary gay Latine 19-year-old, through several seasons of self-discovery and love. Ander is an artist who mainly paints murals, and is on a gap year after deferring from a prestigious art school. Their family runs a taquería in San Antonio, and hires Santi. Ander and Santi are immediately attracted to one another. And here we begin a really sweet love story.
But it's not the love story that makes the book stand out. Yes, it's a lovely romance. Yes, the characters have fun banter and great chemistry. Yes, I believed in and rooted for Ander and Santi's love for each other. But really, the love story is not why I loved this book or why I found it so remarkable. (My one teeny tiny complaint, however, does relate to the love story -- it does The Thing that romances sometimes do, where romantic love is placed above all other forms of love and relationships. And also has a bit of the "we're meant to be" thing that I think is quite problematic for reasons I'm not going to go into right now. But I was more than willing to set aside these minor me-issues in favor of the magnificence of the rest of the book.)
Ander & Santi Were Here is remarkable because it centers queer joy so well. And it treats Ander's nonbinary gender identity and gayness as so normal and good and unremarkable. Queerness is never a source of conflict in the story. Ever. Ander's family is loud and loving and kind, and loves and accepts Ander as they are. There's no coming out, no forced outing, no deadnaming, no misgendering. There's not even internalized homophobia. And I'm not saying that stories about queer conflict or tragedy aren't worth telling or important. They are. But unadulterated queer joy is just as, if not more, important. And it's refreshing to read a queer love story that isn't at all about the challenges of being queer.
Similarly, it's remarkable because of how it normalizes nonbinary language. Jonny Garza Villa weaves Spanish throughout the book, and they do such a beautiful job of de-gendering Spanish. English-speakers have a hard enough time correctly gendering nonbinary people in English, and English doesn't have gender built into language like Spanish does. But the author makes de-gendering Spanish seem so dang easy, and hopefully helps readers unaccustomed to nonbinary-ness think, "Oh, this isn't so hard! We can do it!"
And it's remarkable because it examines the cruelty and racism of the US's immigration policies. You see, shortly after Ander and Santi begin dating, we find out that Santi is undocumented. And herein lies the source of conflict in this story. Ander and Santi navigate anxiety, fear, pain, and anger. They confront devastating unfairness. And as the reader, we are forced to ask: Who gets to have the right to experience joy, love, and safety?
Ander & Santi Were Here is exceptional. It's rich and raw and beautiful and textured. And I think it has the potential to help readers see the beauty of queerness, the ease of gender fluidity, and the horrors of USian immigration policy.
Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC!