Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico

by Noé Álvarez

Searching, propulsive, and deeply spiritual, Accordion Eulogies is an odyssey to repair a severed family lineage, told through the surprising history of a musical instrument

Growing up in Yakima, Washington, Noe Álvarez never knew his grandfather. Stories swirled around this mythologized, larger-than-life That he had abandoned his family, and had possibly done something awful that put a curse on his descendants. About his grandfather, young Noe was sure of only one That he had played the accordion. Now an adult, reckoning with the legacy of silence surrounding his family's migration from Mexico, Álvarez resolves both to take up the instrument and to journey into Mexico to discover the grandfather he never knew.

Álvarez travels across the US with his accordion, meeting makers and players in cities that range from San Antonio to Boston. He uncovers the story of an instrument that's been central to classic American genres, but also played a critical role in indigenous Mexican history. Like the accordion itself, Álvarez feels trapped between his roots in Mexico and the US. As he tries to make sense of his place in the world-as a father, a son, a musician—he gets closer to uncovering the mystery of his origins.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Music, Biography Memoir, Audiobook, Adult, Biography

Audible Audio

Published May 28, 2024

Reviews

[Diana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful, lyrical, and incredibly emotional. As a first generation Mexican born and raised in the US, the struggles the author faces with being too much and too little of both countries is incredibly relatable and heart breaking all at once. The inter generational trauma addressed, the attempts at healing old hurts and understanding sometimes you can’t, but finding solace in music and the connections you create for yourself, really made this a spectacular read. Also loved learning about the accordion itself and famous figures who play it as well as the history of corridos.

[Julietta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have you ever read a book that was a travelogue, a history of a musical instrument, a treatise on indigeneity and migration from an insider, a terrifying near death experience, a thematic examination of fatherhood and manhood, and a playlist? By the way, I LOVE books with a playlist! Well, if you read "Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico," you will get all of the above and more! Which is why, queridos amigos, I give it cinco estrellas! (5 stars)

Noe Alvarez has a hole in his heart that goes back a couple of generations to his grandpa (abuelo). Grandpa has carved a hole in father's heart by abandoning him and now Noe is left with the same lack. Noe's father was not able to parent with love either. You can't give what you don't have. Maybe by learning all about the accordion, Grandpa's instrument, Noe can fill this heart hole and be a better father for his soon-to-be-born son, thus ending multi-generational trauma. Maybe Noe can go visit his grandpa and find out what were the underlying reasons for the cruel abandonment of his family. This is the theme in a nutshell of AE:MMM.

In the history of the accordion thread, you travel from Louisiana and the zydeco sound filled with the Black pain of slavery mixed with French influence to various parts of Texas for conjunto and norteno music with the indigenous Mexican pain of language loss and migration mixed with German, Polish and Czech influence. In short, accordion music is PAIN externalized through song.

If you'd like to experience some of this, I've chosen four songs from the book for a brief playlist: Un puno de tierra by Ramon Ayala, Los caminos de la vida by Los Diablitos, Ay te dejo en San Antonio by Flaco Jimenez, and Vaciando botellas by Los Huracanes de Norte. These will give you some flavor of what others have called "a tear in the voice" (una lagrima en la voz) along with the adornitos (decorations) that the accordionist adds to the melody.

The "corridos" music being discussed here portrays the grievances of the working classes and indigenous people going all the way back to the time of the Mexican Revolution. "Corrido" comes from the verb "correr" in Spanish which means to run. An appropriate name for music of the migrant who runs constantly from place to place escaping war, seeking work, and looking for a better life for their family.

Corridos originated during the Mexican Revolution, in which music functioned as a form of reportage. Songs recounted the brave tales of revolutionaries fighting to protect indigenous farmers, like the cavalries of Emiliano Zapata.

What exactly are the ghosts that permeate Noe's life in Yakima, Washington where his parents are farmworkers in the apple groves? As migrants pick and sweat under harsh conditions, the fields are filled with corridos playing from a radio hung from a tree.

I fear that my parents' suffering has permeated every aspect of my life. That the dark things that haunt them have passed into me by osmosis and might overtake me one day. My fear comes from the environments that persecuted us for our language, our poverty. In the past, my family would look to corridos to alleviate these dark things, to give us a framework for understanding our lives beyond language. Now, in my spare time, I write corridos to free me from these patterns of fear.

Inevitably, Noe feels the need to meet up with his grandpa whom he has met with once long ago at a beach in a dream-like scene and many more times in actual dreams. Does grandpa hold the key to changing Noe into a man who can stay put in one place and show a steady kind of love to his newborn son? Is Noe doomed to repeat the absentee father role forever? Is all of this searching in vain?

I fear I may be giving too much energy to a man who dedicated none of his to my father's life or mine.

As Noe arrives in Mexico on his quest, in the interest of preserving the flow of the book and avoiding spoilers, I will not get into some of the more dramatic and life threatening portions of the book. You will have to read it yourself to find out what happens.

I'd like to finish this review up with some of the lovely literary devices Noe Alvarez uses in AE:MMM. In particular, the metaphors and similes are breath-taking!

*The music I'm learning to play on the accordion is becoming a kind of cold compress to bring down the swelling inside me.
*From my eyes, I bring down rain on these lands.
*...this mountainous region of avocados and acabados
*I am going into battle with an accordion for a gun.
*Moving softly down the mountain slopes like rivulets of rain, we...
*I put my ear over my accordion case like a conch, as if to hear the distant echoes of all that my people dreamed.
*They corked his story into a bottle and tossed him to the torrential waters as flotsam for me to recover.
*When spirits hung low like morning fog...
*The music sutured the border cultures of the United States and Mexico.
*gush with the black blood of oil
*I squeeze the spirits from these walls like lemon juice.
*His fingers press the pearl buttons, typing patterns into his chest and tearing sounds from the reeds that slice the air like razor blades.
*His face is as wrinkled and twisted as a towel. I watch as he finally wrings understanding from it.

To sum up, this author can really write! The self-reflection is top-notch. The bravery to enter the history book of grandpa's life in dangerous present-day Michoacan, remarkable! I can't believe that this upcoming star of a writer is working in a warehouse in Washington State. Not for long, Noe, not for long...

[E Money The Cat · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did not know what to expect going into this. I don’t know accordion music very much and definitely didn’t know its connection to the US and Mexican cultures. But it came from my librarian’s recommendation and I 1) love music and 2) love expanding my horizons (especially music and history).

Well this was about that and so-much-more. This was a story of self-discovery of a young man tracking down his grandpa in Mexico after learning the instrument he played: accordion. He travels from Washington, to Boston, to Louisiana, through the American Southwest, down into Mexico and deep into indigenous lands. All the way learning life stories, music history, labor history, family history, life lessons, the mixing of different cultures from Haiti, to Italy, to Spain, to Mexico.

Also this was very well written. Beautiful words. Fine words. Better words than this cat can do.

[Jenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was beautifully written. I thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent with this memoir. I never really gave an instrument such as an accordion much of a thought, but this book has showed me another level of connection between music, human struggle and emotional expression.

[Beth · Rating 2 out of 5]

I picked this up because I had taken accordion lessons in Rutherford, NJ with Nicolas Gilio during the time when Lawrence Welk truly popularized accordion playing. Beginning on a 12 bass rental, graduating to a 48 bass and then having my parent buy me a 120 bass, this was so much more fun than the piano lessons I had started taking originally. I had one lesson per week and one of band when all of us learners would get-together an be guided to play together.

Comparing this review to another review of 2 stars, I liked the part that told of the different kinds and areas of where and how the accordion was played and prized. I realize that Noe' was making this a memoir of music, migration and Mexico but to me it felt like the story went on and on about his obsession with having been unloved as a child but hoping for communion with his father and Grandfather who were not emotionally bonded with him. And of course, he went off on this long search for positive emotional caring at a time when his wife was having a baby-so though he may think he will not be like the relatives of the past, he was already losing out on being emotional support for a wife. Hopefully he will learn to access bonding emotionality with his child.

[Lee · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first part of this book describes various places and cultures in the United States where accordions have played a role in the community. Álvarez describes the musicians, the accordions makers and the musical variety. It was far more interesting than i expected. The second part of the book is about his journey into Mexico, the search for his grandfather (who had played the accordion) and the understanding he gained about his family and himself from the encounter with his grandfather. The trip into cartel ridden parts of Mexico and his encounter with his grandfather was grueling. These are very distinct parts of the book.

[Nishta Mehra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully captivating memoir written with a powerful sense of quest and spiritual journey. I learned so much and was entranced by the way this author makes meaning.

[Nicole · Rating 5 out of 5]

“It’s hard to be the one to ask questions about where we came from; hard to hear the answers and to hear that, sometimes, there are no answers.”

A short, deeply emotional read with the propensity to suddenly rip you open page to page, without warning. We struggle so much with what we owe to the stories of the ones who came before us. We hold them so closely, letting them shape us, using magical thinking to will our lives to break or follow patterns we think we see in the mists our parents and grandparents left us. I know how it feels to chase the tales I thought made me who I am. I am also afraid to catch them, and find them to just be glittering dust.

But the value is in the chase, the journey, the decision to ask, seek, knock. It’s what allows us to understand why our parents did what they did, why our grandparents did what they did. We may not know why we, the luckier generations wander still. But we may learn why they left.

[Laura Sullivan · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

[Alexis Hanks · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s one of those books I feel very grateful exists- migrant stories & hope & disappointment & the lives we building upon the stories of our ancestors, even if they’re not as we think they are. It felt like a really long poem. & I learned a lot about accordions!

[Christina · Rating 4 out of 5]

Inspiring in many ways.

[Nathan Hawkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hermosa

[Cheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

We will engage in the age-old ceremony of zydeco, liberating us for a night from the harms of our own thoughts and ways. The band warms up. The drummer stomps the pedal, shaking my heart as if threatening to dislodge it from my chest. While storm clouds gather closer, the amplifiers thunder with electric guitar. The volume briefly robs me of my hearing, perhaps so that I may truly begin to hear again.

The more I flow alongside other men and experience their emotions, the more I think about how maybe this journey was never really about the accordion. Instead, it was about finding a camaraderie. As men, we need a pretext for breaking the barriers of loneliness, for seeking guidance in the ways of the heart. This is what the accordion has given me: a way to find my proper place inside myself and among good men. By shadowing my cousin, I begin to learn that the way we move through this world can produce its own kind of music.

At times lyrical and musical, and other serious and thoughtful, this book was a surprise with every story, traversing an instrument, different music styles, family dysfunction, the diasporic experience, and the search for meaning in a family and abandonment. My grandfather played the accordion, in Eastern Europe and when he emigrated to the US, but died when I was 5, and his sons had zero interest in it or music at all, and I am not sure what kind of music he played, none of the styles mentioned here. I have a photo of my aunt by marriage with a microphone, singing, as he played, and I have no idea what they were playing. My dad doesn’t care or remember so those are lost to time. Maybe polka. There were 2 accordions, I believe, and they were on the floor in a room in my parent’s house for years, and I don’t know what happened to them, family dysfunction and all. I love music more than anyone in my family, so I wonder if there is a genetic link to my grandfather there. This was a great read and a great book, highly recommended.

His name is Eulogio—or eulogy—an emblem of all the things we mourn in life. I will venture into learning music that can help me understand Eulogio’s world and his decisions. I will hold an accordion between my hands and invoke its ancient gestures in order to peel back the layers of myself. Some of us grasp in our hands the things we cannot always keep hold of in our hearts. We stuff away the things we cannot yet come to terms with about ourselves: that no matter how hard we might try to escape, we are manifestations of our ancestral tragedies. I am part of a long line of men who are lost at sea inside themselves. Men who have accumulated hurt but have long used their music to learn to move more lovingly in the world. I hope to do the same.

The origin of the word corrido means “to run.” To run with your story and carry it over vast landscapes. This act of preservation is a way of life. For many people, it is the only way to document the harsh circumstances they endure—as Mexican campesinos (farm workers), soldiers, or smugglers, for example. Corridos are what villagers use to build a record, often in the face of violent and inevitable displacements that force the life of migrants upon us.

The origin of the word zydeco is said to stem from the French Creole colloquial expression for “poverty” or “times are tough” (les haricots sont pas salés, or “the snap beans are not salty”). Jeffery tells me that zydeco is a “snappy beat,” like the snap beans.

I find hope in the spiritual experience of zydeco as he describes it. Zydeco narrates the hard times, yes, but also strives to liberate its listeners through song, dance, and forging connection with one’s community. It encourages the listener to partake in the sacred ritual of shaking off one’s trauma on the dance floor. An alternative translation of zydeco is “to dance,” which evokes the social rituals of Black Creole communities. Zydeco dancing was a social event that affirmed community ties, rejecting white colonialism and helping the dancers escape their harsh circumstances, if only for a night. These dance halls helped revive the Black Creole movement when it was under threat from the pressure to assimilate. They also honored Creole contributions to the accordion.

From this crosshatch of mountain valleys and rancho regions surrounding Coalcomán, galleros come down from hidden places, usually around fiestas patronales, carrying stacks of money—the fruits of their harvests. They lay down bets on roosters and risk their fortunes in cockfights. The fighting rings are shaped by local politics and the place where men’s fates are determined. They throw down money, deeds to their lands, and their lives. Roosters decide it all. In “las oscuritas” of clandestine cockfights, lives are forfeited, disputes are resolved, and families are abandoned. Some people, like my grandfather, are left destitute. These are las jugadas that men feel they must play.

Everywhere I turn is filled with tragedy. So much life is violently interrupted, my grandfather’s included. Suddenly, I feel incredibly thankful for all that my parents did to save me from this place. It is clear that escaping was what worked for my family, displacing themselves so they could find something new. This realization offers me a different way to think about my own restless movement—to travel so that our old stories don’t reach me. Now that I’m here, I see that I was never meant to return to this country, at least not to these harmful parts. There’s a reason it was so difficult to get to this place. But I made it my mission to pry. I wanted to see these stories for myself before I decided whether I should abandon them.

Witnessing the extreme suffering in Mexico is a lot to bear alone. The truths that I’m privy to are still unavailable to my extended family. It’s hard to be the one to ask questions about where we came from; hard to hear the answers and to hear that, sometimes, there are no answers. It is tough to inhabit this twisted family legacy, the legacy of a region that was kept from me throughout my childhood. I worry that I have violated some sacred order by digging up a part of my father’s story I was never meant to see, despite his blessing.

Still, he finds his chords and sings about “bailando bonito.” About dancing freely over this earth again. It’s a beautiful thing to see a man reacquainted with an old emotion, with the spirit of a thousand songs. As he plays, I see more clearly the tragic beauty of his adventures, his courage to stay curious and explore. I take from him what I imagine he can provide, even though he cannot offer me the answers in reality, and commit it to the instrument.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

We need Noe's voice. More please.

[Mark Magee · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved Noe Alvarez's reflective writing, throughout his book. His search for family meaning, and his struggle to understand and come to terms with his father and grandfather's major effect on his own life are a universal coming of age theme for us all. He highlights the art of the accordion culturally, yet it becomes a symbol and almost a ritual for him as he exorcises family demons and comes to grips with his ancestral roots. I deeply respect the path he took to find his grandfather and seek the truth of his life. Then also he charges himself the task if seeing the truth and paving the way for his son to become the person he is meant to become. Such depth and grace and insight he seems to have. I am thrilled to say that this book is the perfect ANTIDOTE to the JD Vance memoir about growing up in Appalachia. (Vance wants us to follow the tired old Horatio Alger script of pulling oneself up by the bootstraps). Alvarez's account is truthful, searing, and thought provoking, and REAL. He presents the struggles of immigrants, and their terrific and massive contributions to our society. Alvarez's book should be a part of every high school and college English curriculum.

[Michelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautifully written book about the author’s journey into making amends with where he comes from and where he is headed as a soon to be father. Each chapter reads like an essay on that particular stage of his journey and you can feel his sense of determination and disappointment along the way. Highly recommend for its insights into the world of “pochos” (US born children of Mexican parents) and the lack of belonging that can come with that identity.

As a pocha myself, I could deeply relate to his experiences and as someone doing family genealogical research I could also relate to the idea that some family ghosts don’t wish to be found.

I hope to see more work from the author in the coming years!

[Donovan Mattole · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico on pre-order well before it was published and when I picked it up from my bookstore last year I immediately started reading it. I must have been a couple chapters in when it somehow got covered with other books arriving (ok, confession...shhh...my book purchasing eyes are bigger than my ability to read them all) and buried under whatever else I was reading at the time. This is kind of a common occurrence for me and books that sit too long get transferred to the library...unless they are like Alvarez...these special authors never leave the table until read...and they do get read, eventually. Well, this past week it finally the time for Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico I DEVOURED it! Wow! It was so good! While I regret it wasn't read a year ago, what I love is that now was the right time for me to read it and the impact with everything going on in our world right now amplified how deeply it was felt.

Alvarez is a poet with words and his descriptions of feelings and moments and scenes are authentic and original and they capture time and place in a way that makes you truly feel and see through his eyes. I love how he takes us into his world and helps us see ours at the same time.

William Nicholson in his play, Shadowlands, gives CS Lewis the quote, "We read to know we are not alone". When I read Noé Álvarez I feel like he draws us into his world in a way that brings his experiences so we can truly see him. I know that is how I felt reading his latest offering.

While my story is quite different from his, I also am shaped by the choices my grandfathers and father made...some good and some like curses I run from. I try to understand these generational forces that come down to me...to learn from them and also to somehow avoid and escape them. In Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico Alvarez is attempting to find the true essence of his grandfather and understand his story and in seeking the truth of his story he found truth along the way in places he didn't expect. His sharing made me think deeply about my own story and history and how I have been shaped by it. It reminded me that the knowledge I have gained and the things I have learned about my father and grandfathers have guided me...some of the things I have tried to run from or ignore...but they need to be seen and acknowledged to avoid passing them on to my sons. Knowledge is power, but taking the time to learn from this power and being deliberate to not pass these to our children takes effort...and even then we are still going to carry and pass some of these things. We need to own this and acknowledge it and be ready when our sons come seeking knowledge and when they do we need to be more ears then mouths.

Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico is a memoir, but much more. It captures beautiful glimpses of cultures and provides us glimpses into the souls that Alvarez met along the way in his search. It is also a beautiful portrait of the accordion...an instrument that has been reviled and loved, embraced across widely diverse cultures...one that has had its times in high society, but lives among those who struggle for a voice and work by the sweat of their brow.

I loved Spirit Run: A 6,000-Mile Marathon Through North America's Stolen Land and I loved Accordion Eulogies: A Memoir of Music, Migration, and Mexico and I will anxiously look forward to whatever Alvarez has swirling around in his mind or that he might be working on at the moment - I know that whatever it is he will be again pouring his spirit into it and that the impact will be felt by all of us who read it and it will change us for the better.

Noe, please keep exploring, learning, growing and writing. We need you more these days than ever before!!

[Alyssa · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75- beautifully written.

[Brent · Rating 4 out of 5]

This memoir explores a 2nd generation immigrant's epic search for meaning in family and music. I enjoyed the gravity of the story and a dive into accordion lore.

[Dishing On Books · Rating 4 out of 5]

To start, if you haven't read Alverez's first book Spirit Run, I highly recommend you travel along with him on his 6,000 mile journey across North America stolen land. I read it. I loved it and I believe at this point I will pick up anything he pens.

Accordion Eulogies is a masterfully crafted dish that blends the diverse elements Noe Alverez's journey, heritage, and personal discovery in a harmonious and musical, culinary experience.

The main component of this is a large poblano pepper, charred to perfection, stuffed with a savory blend of ingredients that reflect Alvarez's multicultural influences: tender, braised beef (inspired by his grandfathers mythological past and the corridos), black beans and rice (representing his Mexican roots), and a tangy apple salsa (a nod to his upbringing in Yakima Valley's apple orchards). The pepper is topped with a rich, spicy zydeco sauce with influences from German, French, and creole cuisines, embodying the accordions journey and transformation across cultures.

The Accordion Eulogies is a poignant memoir that interweaves personal and cultural history, music, and the search for identity. It's a rich tapestry of stories as Alverez travels across the US and into Mexico meeting musicians and learning about the accordions diverse history. The prose is lyrical and evocative, capturing the emotional depth of Alverez's experience and the renaissance of the accordions music.

Overall, Accordion Eulogies is a compelling read that offers a unique perspective on the ways in which personal and cultural histories are intertwined. Alverez's narrative is both deeply personal and universally relatable, making it (imo) a valuable addition to the genre of memoir and cultural history.

[Lianne]

I once thought I would write a book about the place of the accordion in human culture because I was forced to take accordion lessons as a child. I was drawn to this memoir by its title. The author teaches himself to play the accordion as part of a need to connect with his grandfather. Growing up in Yakima Washington he embarks on a pilgrimage to connect with his legendary grandfather who played the accordion and was absent in the lives of his family. On this trip to the highlands in Mexico, he must traverse violent areas where the narco traffickers, militias and government forces struggle for territorial control. He also learns to understand the indigenous part of is family history. On the way he seeks out makers of accordions and virtuoso performers and finds family members who can be his guides into dangerous worlds left behind by his parents who built lives in the United States. Accordion music is his way of expressing deep emotions he is denied and also evokes the loneliness of migration. It is the soundtrack of his life. He learns that he must find his own meaning and identity and that while he can acknowledge the legacy of trauma from previous generations, he must create his own path, not only for himself but for his son. It is his desire to be available to his son in an honest way. The machismo of the men in his family has displaced deep emotional connection with the neccessity of being strong.. He wants to provide his son a more hopeful beautiful way of living. He finds the most satisfaction about putting his family experience in perspective from a meeting with an aunt who has succeeded in living her life joyfully and creatively. This unique approach to memoir was relevant to me personally.

[Rachel Ladd]

Thanks so much to Catapult and Vintage for the free copy of "Accordion Eulogies"!

(I do not give ratings to memoirs due to personal experiences).

Wow, what a beautifully heartbreaking and poetic book. "Accordion Eulogies" is the journey that Alvarez takes to find himself through music and his estranged grandfather. Spanning from Washington state to Mexico and Texas, Alvarez's journey, focusing on the accordion and the music that comes with it, the journey is fraught with violence, family heartbreak, and mishaps that shape Alvarez in ways that he never anticipated.

I loved this book because never once have I ever wanted to learn more about accordions, but after reading this, I'm so glad I did. The history and the culture that comes with it is so intense and beautiful, in ways that I never thought. Alvarez's family history is so rich, and deep, and complicated, that the reader can't help but connect with Alvarez.

The book is under 200 pages, but holy moly does it pack a punch - "Accordion Eulogies" is emotional and lyrical in its writing, and a book that makes the reader grateful that they are able to read it. Thank you to Noe Alvarez for opening his heart and mind to create this beautifully haunting memoir.

[Leigh · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars

I liked the idea of this book far more than its execution.

Our author is on a journey to better understand his family history, particularly regarding his estranged grandfather who was an accordion player and a bit of a vagabond, abandoning the family and living a "free" untethered life. To come to terms with this part of his history, our author decides to learn the accordion and then journey to Mexico to try to find and learn about his grandfather. The first part of the book explores the accordion as an instrument of immigrants and poor people throughout America's history. The second part takes us to Mexico.

The two parts don't feel like they go together to me. The first part of the book would've made a fascinating music history book; the second needed a better editor to get to the emotional depth that the author was going for. The accordion was not the bridge between the two that the author intended. And what he finds in Mexico is a land of narcotraffickers and family dynamics that were exactly as broken as he'd been told they were. There was not much of an epiphany here.

Meh.

[Lupe Dominguez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Accordion Eulogies...what can I say about this novel? Not much, tbh. For as short as it was, for me, this took FOREVER for me to read. I put it down about halfway through because I grew bored and extremely disinterested. Alvarez has a way with words but sometimes they were just too much. Too many euphemisms, too many allegories, too many too many. He is trying to relate his trauma (? I guess?) of not having his grandfather around and thus not knowing his family history, to the not very well known history of the accordion in the Latino/Hispanic (whichever of those words you like) community. But he only does so at the very first half of the book. The rest of it is his perilous journey into Mexico to see his grandfather one more time. Honestly, this book just made me depressed the entire time I read it. And annoyed with him? I can't really put my finger on it. I should have just stopped reading it, but I really don't like to DNF books, especially by those in my own community, but maybe that's not a reason to finish it either. IDK. I wanted to love this but I just didn't.

[Thurston Hunger · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think (??) my brother recommended this to me. Our grandfather too played the accordion, iirc in establishments where he was too young to be in as a guest. He ultimately went a different route with his career, and was a pretty steady Dad and a fine grandfather - but could still play a lively rendition "If you knew Susie..." in his latter years.

The title of this book, and much of it involves Noe going on a quest to find his grandfather. Or really chase the myth more than the man. We do witness Noe meeting him briefly when Noe is in his 20's and that sort of foreshadows a possible fruitless quest.

But then again, we all know the journey is the thing. And some of the other accordion masters Noe tracks down and befriends are full of the meaning one hopes for. Need to go back and reread the Ed Poullard section again. He gives off an aura of coming home to even a stranger or remote reader.

A family can be built a million ways, and that might be the message here.

[Dorinda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I only enjoy accordion music in corridos, conjunto, or tango music. This book reminded me of artists I knew about and added new names to explore. I read with access to internet at hand to learn more about artists and music pieces both described. The description of the artists who create the intricate works of art that are accordions was fascinating. Alvarez reflections about what he learned in his work to recover links with his grandfather and father provide insight into the unique experiences he had in his culture and his life in Yakima orchards and a way to consider the place of others with similar experiences in music history and political history. I have urged everyone I talk books with to read this one.

[Nicko H · Rating 2 out of 5]

I heard every part of the audiobook, and, well, the audiobook narrator must have really ruined for this for me. I heard and processed every word, but I rarely knew what was going on. The story wasn't super straight forward, so it was just...maybe it was poetry is what I was listening to. By the end, I got a little bit of a narrative. A little bit. But by then, it didn't even matter that much.

[Heather Banfield · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had a hard time getting in to this one and overall the first 2/3 of the book is not all that great, but the last 1/3 of the author’s reflections on his journey to discover his family’s history and the lessons he gleaned at the end were meaningful and helped give credence to his need to learn, which was something I had a hard time understanding and buying into in the beginning.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

I did really love the content and idea of the book but it felt disjointed in the telling. Touching at the end and I loved the ending that showcased the raw reality of life and our ancestors being ordinary humans. I like this display of humanity and maybe one day I will be able to forgive my mother for her future transgressions.

[Toddy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn’t like the presentation of the topic, my personal preference. Other people could love it. The accordion history and culture was really interesting. Suffusing the book with the first person sorrow and pain and imagining of musicians and atmosphere - that’s what I didn’t like. Simply not my kind of book. I skimmed the last third, still didn’t find an attraction to the saturated emotion.