En su libro de memorias Nieve en La Habana, el cual ganó el Premio Nacional del Libro en 2003, Carlos Eire narra su niñez en Cuba en la época del triunfo de la revolución y la llegada al poder de Fidel Castro. Esa historia termina en 1962, en el avión que lleva a Carlos y a su hermano desde La Habana a Miami para comenzar una nueva vida, como sucedió a miles de niños cubanos. Pasarían años antes de que Carlos volviera a ver a su madre. Y nunca más volvería a ver a su padre, por quien sentía una verdadera devoción.
Miami y Mis Mil Muertes sigue el cuento en el momento en que aquel avión aterriza y Carlos comienza una nueva vida impulsado por sus miedos y esperanzas. Enseguida se da cuenta de que para llegar a ser americano tendrá que “morir” el Carlos cubano que hasta ahora ha sido. Se enfrenta al eterno dilema del inmigrante que debe aprender inglés, ir a una escuela americana y descifrar un futuro está en el país de las oportunidades, pero aún no es capaz de aprovecharlas. A pesar de la dura realidad de los hogares adoptivos donde ha de vivir, el muchacho se abre paso, dejando atrás cualquier vestigio de su vida pasada hasta el punto de cambiar su nombre y convertirse en Charles. Miami y Mis Mil Muertes es un exorcismo y una oda a esa experiencia, es un homenaje a la renovación, a los momentos de la vida en que tenemos la certeza de haber muerto y, de alguna manera milagrosa, haber vuelto a nacer.
A book that brings us into the life of a child immigrant brought to America in 1961 for a better life and to await for his parents to leave Cuba. Carlos Eire the author, recounts how after Castro took over Cuba things began to change for the worse everyone. The United States brought 1400 Cuban children to US soil. The plan was to place these children in foster homes as they awaited for their parents to leave Cuba and reclaim them. However, Fidel Castro closed down all exits from Cuba. Life for Carlos and his older brother took a turn for the worse. Many years would pass before his parents would find a way out and during that time Carlos would be go through many changes as he search for his identity. Told with humor, this biography give the reader a view into the life of an immigrant child and all the horrors that he and his brother went through. They survived with many scars. A must read!
In an earlier update I promised I would review this book so here I am. I really hate this book but I will do my best to keep my review short as possible.
I'm an absolute sucker for immigrant/refugee stories. I always enjoy seeing people who've come from less than desirable situations rise to the top and pursue the American dream. As this book was also an autobiography I thought I would give it a try.
Background: Carlos Eire and his brother, Tony were airlifted out of Cuba during Operation Peter Pan in which thousands of Cuban children were relocated to the US. The book chronicles Carlos' first days in the US all the way up until he is married with children.
Writing an honest autobiography takes courage. Eire does not hold back on his feelings/actions both good and bad. For that I applaud him. However, I still think he is a jerk.
Within the first few days in the US he already exhibits very selfish behavior. Eire immediately tries to erase (in his words "kill") his Cuban identity. He changes his name to Charles and does everything he can to forget about Cuba - even refusing to write to his parents who are frantically worrying if their children are alive and well. Despite his parents worry he disregards them and even insults them (and no he was not slightly annoyed with them as we all can be with out parents, he was beyond cruel and in my opinion extremely vile to people who did nothing but love him unconditionally). He just cuts them out off his life for good with no explanation and has no guilt in doing so.
Carlos now Charles becomes increasingly materialistic. All he can think about is material objects and how much we Americans owe him for coming to the US (you're the one we took in pal, not the other way around so show some gratitude ). I was also annoyed at just how many times he was willing to throw people under the bus to get what he wanted. In several parts of the book he resorts to bullying behavior as a means to rise to the top. This showed me that he lacked any kind of moral compass.
In addition to Charles' bullying behavior his use of foul language in both English and Spanish becomes increasingly common. While I can put up with foul language if it is essential to the character or story (you'd be surprised at just how a swear word here and there really makes a difference to a character's identity), I'd prefer that the author only do it when necessary. Eire just says the words for the sake of shock value. While many of the curse words are in Spanish (a language I am proficient in) they are still just as bad, if not worse than the English words (this would be somewhat hard to explain since many of the words used do not have a direct English equivalent). This in no way advanced the plot and furthered my dislike of Charles.
This next part might not bother everyone but it did bother me: Eire's disparaging remarks toward religion. As a Catholic I recognize that not everyone has the same beliefs as me and I respect that. However, I believe that whatever beliefs a person has (or in some cases doesn't have) need to be respected. The way Eire just disrespected religion time and time again really added nothing to the story and probably offended some readers such as myself (ironically I discovered that he is a well respected professor of religion at several universities).
Eire like many immigrants does encounter several headships such as living in less than ideal foster homes and struggling to make ends meet (if I remember correctly he may have even qualified for welfare benefits). And for those reasons my heart goes out to him. But I do not think that his hardships justify his immoral behavior.
So if you want to read this book then be my guest but just know that the author is an unsympathetic jerk with no sense of right and wrong.
I honestly feel like I could have Carlos Eire sit in a McDonalds for a few hours, write an essay about his experience, and I would end up with a piece of writing that I would find totally beautiful and engrossing and profound. I love his style and prose that much.
Learning to Die in Miami picks roughly where Waiting for Snow in Havana leaves off: Carlos and his brother Tony's arrival in Florida after the Pedro Pan airlifts. The style is almost identical to the one Eire used in his first book, which means basically that I savored each and every page.
Though I gave the first book a 5-star rating, this one gets a 4-star, only due to the fact that it didn't have the advantage of being a wonderful unexpected surprise as I read; this time I knew what I was getting. Don't get me wrong - this is in no way a bad thing. Rather, I appreciate the consistency, but it did mean that it didn't have the same twinkly newness and awesomeness that the first book did.
An additional difference between the two is simply the subject matter. I felt that in some ways, Waiting for Snow was a love letter to his wonderful childhood in Cuba. While It contained some dark and difficult memories, it also was full of laughter and sun and family. In general, there was a lot less of all of those things in Learning to Die. And, though I did miss the occasional moments of levity in this book, I get why they weren't there. Learning to die and be reborn in a new country, trying to make a new life and home for yourself - it's not really a lighthearted process.
One thing I did very much enjoy about this book was learning more about Eire's relationship with his religion. It was something I wondered about often as I was reading Waiting for Snow and I felt like many of my questions were answered. Eire's religion in an integral part of his story, and it weaves its way into most of the book.
I will end on kind of a personal side note, but one that definitely added to my enjoyment of the book. I was fortunate enough to get to hear Eire speak about this book when it came out. He told us that he was inspired to write the book while in Prague, where he had seen advertisements for the Museum of Communism. Well, I happened to read Waiting for Snow while in Prague, and while I was there, I went to the Museum of Communism. Kind of random and of no real consequence, but I got a kick out of it.
A continuation of Carlos Wire's story started in "Waiting for Snow in Havana" about his leaving Cuba as one of the 14,000 Pedro Pan children airlifted to the USA.
Although this was fairly engaging and I do feel great sympathy/empathy for what he endured as a child separated from his parents, in a land where everythinbg was different and he must transform himself,from "Carlos" into "Chuck", I still had a lot of frustration with the book. First of all, I felt that he was capitalizing on the success of the "Snow" book. I suspect his agent probably encouraged him to write more on the subject.
Second, he constantly jumped around with thoughts, time frames, incidents and his interest in religion. It made me dizzy at times, trying to keep up with the whats, whens, wheres and whos!!
Third, he refers back to the first book without much explanation -- so if you nhave not read "Snow", you are in trouble. (For example he immediately begins to talk about Louis XV1 and Marie Antoinette. If you have not read "Snow", you don't realize that he is talking about his parents.)
Fourth, he omits so many issues which were at the neart of his experience. What was it like being reunited with his mother after all those years and all that wishing and hoping?
Finally -- so much of the book, Like "Snow" is stream of consciousness pain. I hope he is working on this in therapy -- or will consider getting therapy if he is not yet doing so.
In his first memoir, Waiting for Snow in Havana, Carlos Eire introduced me to Operation Peter Pan. It takes the breath out of you. Parents in Cuba in 1960-1962, concerned about Fidel Castro and the loss of parental rights, sent their unaccompanied minors to Florida. To freedom. FOURTEEN THOUSAND children air lifted!
Some went to extended family, but many, many minors were placed in foster homes. This is Carlos Eire's refugee story, a story of overcoming. Very well written.
Intrigued, I looked up Eire on YouTube; here is a book reading. If you have an hour, it is a compelling talk.
I laughed when he said that AARP showed great interest in his book because they took literally the metaphor he used in the title for the immigration process. But it truly is a story of death and resurrection.
I have read Waiting for Snow in Havana,so was familiar with Eire's work. This memoir is incredible. I had no idea that over 14,000 children were airlifted out of Cuba in the early 1960's, some as young as 3. Parents were desperate to get their children to a safe haven, hoping to be able to follow them. Many were never reunited, such as Carlos' father, who died in Cuba before being able to secure passage to leave. After 3 years, his mother was finally able to escape Fidel's Rule. He refers to post-Castro Cuba as Castrolandia.
Many were farmed out to orphanages, foster homes and far-flung relatives. It is a riveting tale and as familiar as I thought I was with the history of Cuba, this was a real eye opener.
The narrative is compelling, but Eire's use of language is lyrical. I highly recommend this read!
What a beautiful — and strange at times — memoir. It ended up being so much more tender and meaningful than I expected it to be in the first few chapters. Eire has an interesting style, a certain staccato to his sentences.
His story is …. A lot. His grief and his ability to find joy in life is also a lot
***** Note when I started the book
When my mother was 16, she ran away with a classmate. They took a train the Miami because he had family there. They were found out and she was returned home.
I don't know why she ran away. I don't know why it was with this particular boy. I eventually figured out that he was Cuban. I don't know how he got to suburban Indianapolis in the early 1970s. I also learned he died in 1993, so I don't think I will ever get any answers to the 1000s of questions I have about this episode in my mother's life, so I will just read this book and imagine.
Well written memoir about being a Cuban exile. The title refers to the author needing his Cuban self to die in order to become American. It is both sad and inspiring. America is seen as the land of opportunity and while that works for some it is rough road with little opportunity for others. Thoughful and real, Eire experiences many deaths of himself as he is shuffled through foster care homes, different schools, and different cities.
DisappointIng after Waiting ... Havana. The marvelous descriptions of his almost magical childhood give way to the pathos & self-pity of Miami. perhaps this book should be viewed more as political comment on the airlift - a sad situation,but less compelling or engaging reading than the first memoir.
Me gustó el libro, la historia e hizo que entienda más al migrante cubano. Sobre todo a aquel que fue despojado de lo que tenía y tuvo que salir pensando que la situación seria temporal. Verlo a través de las vivencias de un niño fue una vivencia increíble. Con mellizos de la misma edad de Carlos migrando no puedo ni imaginar que mis hijos tengan o resistan una experiencia de estas. Pero los niños siempre nos sorprenden! También hubo un momento en la lectura que se me hizo pesado, como que no avanzaba pero luego vino lo mejor! Me quedé con ganas de leer el primer libro Nieve en La Habana 👍🏼
The flash backs, forward, sideways, ups and downs drive me a little nuts toward the end. For someone who gave us so much detail of his 9 months living with Ricky and Lucy in Miami he sure omitted a lot toward the end of the book. Because there are no 4.5 stars I'll give him 5. His first one is his masterpiece and even though this one fell short half a star I still loved it. Swoosh!!
Fantastic memoir. Loved every page. Well written an understatement. Flows effortlessly back and forth through time - tying everything in- in a way that transcends time. Amazing what children, people, endure, and how they can continue on, overcome, and even shine. I loved this book.
These two memoirs (also read "Waiting for Snow in Havana") were excellent. I had never heard of Operation Pedro Pan, which airlifted 14000 Cuban children to the US in 1962.
As a foster and adoptive mom and lover of Spanish language and culture, this book was right up my alley. I always learn something from former foster youth sharing about their experiences of trauma, living with different families, and the journey to healing. Also enlightening was the author's search for identity among different countries, cultures, families, languages, and friends. The author is extremely likable and has a riveting, real life story to tell that I was even more drawn to because of my Hispanic sons adopted from foster care.
As far as memoirs go, this is not one of my favorites, however, that doesn’t mean that the story was not enjoyable. Carlos Eire has a fiery, yet observant personality that becomes apparent in his narration of life in the U.S. after being airlifted out of Cuba. It was a story and perspective that I was unfamiliar with before, and am glad to have gained. Eire’s message about life, growth, death and perspective were very eye-opening and thought provoking. I especially liked how comfortable he was with switching between timelines. Some passages will flash forward decades and snap back just as quickly. This made the book far more like listening to an oral story, rather than something autobiographical. Overall, Carlos Eire’s story was inspiring and I would certainly recommend it!
I read "Waiting for Snow in Havana", and thought it was ok-so I wasn't expecting much from this book. But I was pleasantly surprised. The author tells a gripping story of acclimating to life in the US, and being uprooted from various foster homes. There are various themes, including living under the Castro regime, segregation and prejudice in 1960's South Florida, being separated from one's parents, and perhaps most of all, how we in essence we are reborn when our has big changes.
The only drawback is the author didn't talk much of his move to Chicago when his mom came to the US. I would have liked to find out more about that.
I was excited to read this book, as it's a sequel to one of my favorite memoirs ever. But alas, lightning does not strike twice with this sequel. Mr. Eire has some funny and poignant moments in his life acclimating as a refugee in the U.S., but much of what he says here is very repetitive from his previous memoir. I felt that this book could have been tacked unto his first book with some editing.
I’d give it closer to a 4.5 rating, actually, but it feels weird to me whenever I give a star rating to a memoir. As if I’m passing judgment on the content of someone’s life as opposed to simply how well I liked the book.
The book itself is an overall gem. I’ve lived in Miami 13 years now and am pretty familiar with not only all the landmarks Eire mentions (which make it a fun little Easter egg for me) but with the entirety of the Pedro Pan operation as I used to work for the commissioner whose district contained Camp Matecumbe - a historic site for the airlifted youth.
It broke my heart as I read the way in which Eire equated his journey as a refugee to a sort of death - continual shedding of identity and rebirth. And I shared in his joys when things were going well for him.
While an immigrant myself, we didn’t come over as refugees, despite leaving in the throes of Guatemala’s civil war. No two journeys to America are alike, so it was good for me to understand Erie’s nuanced story of life in America and adjusting to 1960’s America at that.
📚SIDE BAR: Incidentally, that part about growing up in the 60s reminds me of my high school Spanish teacher, Ms. Cinco, who always said, “If you cheat and I catch you, you fail. If you cheat and I DONT catch you, you go to hell. And I’ll be there bc I grew up in the 60’s.” 😆
From a technical perspective, I found Eire to be a really enjoyable writer and I definitely want to read his other book, Waiting for Snow in Havana. There’s an ease to his writing (even if he did belabor the death metaphor in that last chapter). Most of the book maintained a great pace but I’ll admit it took a shift in one of the later chapters where he sort of just recounts his mom’s journey to the States, reuniting with her sons. I didn’t mind that it moved to that style but it felt a little rushed - like he wanted to keep it at 25 chapters so he crammed that whole story into one chapter and then went back to the normal writing for the last chapter. He specifically says he didn’t choose to write a book with 25 chapters…but that weird stylistic whiplash suggests otherwise, my guy. 🤨
Otherwise, I’m just bummed I missed the discussion for this book during book club but I hadn’t finished it and wanted to read it through for myself. One of the book club members came over as a Pedro Pan kid and I would have loved to hear his take on the book. Guess I’ll have to corner him next month.
I found this memoir a mixed bag. Some parts are fabulous, as Carlos grapples with his identity as one of 14,000 Cuban children airlifted out of Cuba and into America in the Pedro Pan airlift of 1962. Carlos, at age 11, and his older brother Tony (a few years older) arrive in Miami; Carlos is soon placed in the best home he will live in during his tumultuous childhood, with a Jewish family, the Chaits, who insist on sending Carlos and Tony to the Catholic Church every Sunday. The Catholic religion will eventually become Carlos' guiding light, after his initial grappling and dismissal of it.
Carlos falls in love with the material things he finds in the U.S.: televisions, cereal boxes, bowling balls (but not the shoes!), and many other American middle class paraphernalia. But he is often hit with what he calls the "Void," a feeling of panic that he has no one in his life and that he's doomed to be forever alone. He often dismisses the thought of his mother coming to America, as he loves the adventure he's on and doesn't want to be dragged into poverty, which he imagines will happen when she is finally able to escape Cuba. However, when there is word that Cuba has closed the door solidly to any adults emigrating, and thus his mother will not arrive any time soon, Carlos and Tony are snatched from their nice homes (Carlos's home with the Chaits, Tony's with some of the Chait's friends) and placed in a horrible foster home where bullies threaten them and the parents barely feed them. The series of foster homes devolves until eventually they find themselves in the home of their uncle in Bloomington, Illinois, where Carlos is relieved that he can finally experience snow.
The memoir mostly covers the period from 1962-1965, but also telescopes back and forward in time, often by decades. The story reveals Carlos's struggle to learn English, to fully assimilate, to excel in school, and to cast off his Cuban roots (the "learning to die" of the title). He becomes Charles, Charlie and Chuck in efforts to reinvent himself. But slowly he finds guidance in religion and history and, in particular, in the book The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis.
The negatives of the story include quite long diatribes or hyperbolic enthusiasms over things he encounters in the land of his adoption. I would have liked to see these trimmed and toned down.
I just finished the first volume in Carlos Eire's memoirs, Waiting for Snow in Havana. I had to purchase this book right away to learn more about how Eire went for a privileged life in Cuba, to living in an impoverished immigrant neighborhood on the North Side of Chicago, to go on to become a Professor at Yale.
I've now finished this second volume of Eire's memoirs. He writes from deep within his soul of the emotional difficulty of adjusting to life in the US and the many challenges he faces on his road to a PhD in History and Religious Studies. He is first placed in a foster home with a decent Jewish family in Miami. However, he and his brother then are placed in the "Palace Ricardo", a very squalid (actually dangerous) foster home in a very poor part of Miami. The small house is populated, in addition to other foster children, by rats and roaches. The foster parents are abusive. Finally, Eire and his brother are transferred to his Uncle Amado and his family in Bloomington, Illinois. Here some semblance of normalcy returns. It takes Eire's mother 3 years to reach the US. He and his brother then move to a very poor neighborhood, Uptown, on the north side of Chicago. There are flash forwards to events later in his life which I hope will be further developed in a future volume of memoirs.
The methods Eire uses to survive the adversities of his life as a Cuban refugee show a deep intellect and spirituality. He studies hard, works hard, and manages to succeed where many have fallen into a sense of despair and hopelessness. He writes of his fear of being home along, his panic / anxiety attacks, and his ability to overcome all of this. I loved his description of experiencing his first snowfall, while living in Bloomington. He loves nature and takes solace in the simplest things, such as watching the leaves turn in the fall or spotting his first Cardinal. He expresses his feelings with honesty and eloquence.
Disclaimer: I have a distant personal connection to this author.
I really liked the first of Eire's books, Waiting for Snow in Havana, and I eagerly looked forward to this book. This book chronologically picks up right where Snow left off, as Eire lands in Miami after his flight from Cuba. But make no mistake, this is not a rehash of Snow, nor should it be.
Snow is a charming book told with dark undertones, Die is a darker book told with charming undertones. This grows organically from the topic being discussed; after all, this is about the loss of innocence, both the natural innocence of childhood and also the innocence of the rosy picture of the United States. Eire experiences both subtle and overt racism, as well as abject poverty, both of which have a tendency to eliminate any innocence you might have remaining.
But the thing which makes this book most fascinating is that Eire succeeds, despite adversity. In many ways, Eire is the embodiment of the American Dream: He arrived in America in poverty as an immigrant with poor English skills, but drew on industriousness and natural talent to climb the social ladder. In the end, he makes it all the way up to one of the classic positions of entrenched society, that of professor at Yale. The American Dream as literary device is overused to the point of cliche, and it’s easy to get crotchety and dismissive. But, sometimes, it actually happens, and when written realistically, as here, it is impressive.
Carlos Eire’s first memoir, Waiting for Snow in Havana, ends with Carlos (age 11) and his brother Tony (14) departing Havana as part of Operation Pedro Pan in 1962, while their parents stay behind awaiting permission to leave. This coming of age memoir begins as the plane lands in Miami. Carlos and Tony are first placed in separate private homes, both with Jewish families who treat them very well. When their parents’ planned departure from Cuba is put on hold, the refugee authorities send the boys to a chaotic and often brutal group home run by a Cuban couple. After nine months there, a social worker suddenly remembers they were supposed to be sent to Illinois to live with their uncle and his family, which is where they go until the arrival of their mother in 1965.
Tony resists learning English and adapting to the US. Carlos tries desperately to fit in and leave everything about Cuba behind. When their mother finally comes to the US, he experiences a great deal of ambivalence about being parented after so many years of near freedom. The book moves seamlessly between their early years in America and the events of the future – this is done really well, as if retelling the early story brings up additional memories of what happened later. Eire’s poetic/hyperbolic/wry writing style conveys perfectly the emotions felt by both boys and how differently siblings can respond to similar situations.
Learning to Die in Miami: Confessions of a Refugee Boy is primarily about how the author dealt with the pain and joy of leaving the old and embracing the new. This was the plight of Carlos Eire when he was sent by his parents from Cuba to Florida after Castro took power. Unlike many who refused to adapt, thinking they would soon return to Cuba, Eire made every effort to cope with the challenges of his several involuntary moves. Having had many previous childhood experiences in Cuba, Eire relished the opportunity to pursue new dreams through persistence and hard work in the U.S.
Although he made some mistakes and dealt with several almost unbearable situations, he prospered in each new environment and eventually became a professor of history and religion at Yale University. Eire’s many moves resulted in the death of the old and the re-creation of the new. Eire accomplished each transformation by re-branding himself with new perspectives and altered names.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, possibly more so than his first about his previous life before moving to Florida. Eire’s rich narrative is an example for all who may consider writing a memoir, for he succeeded in combining past experiences with analysis based on his developing understanding of history, culture, language, religion, and life.
Following Waiting for Snow in Havana, these very frank confessions add up to a story of religious conversion, told in completely secular terms. The two books have many things to recommend them: boyhood adventures that rank with Huckleberry Finn or Penrod, vivid descriptions of life for the wealthy in pre-Castro Havana, a dysfunctional family narrative, and an enlightening view of the plight of Cuban refugees in the United States. Central to it all is the vision of heaven, the eternal in the present, and the goal of our spiritual longings, but always expressed in the most ordinary terms. He and his aunt are transfixed by the new animals they encounter in Bloomington, Illinois: ¨We watch the squirrels more than we watch television. My aunt Alejandra is especially taken with the way in which they hold the corn cobs, and how methodically they chew them up. ´Look, they eat the same way we do!´ Alejandra is at her best when she contemplates the simplest things. She has a way of making the most mundane things seem marvelous, even miraculous. She won´t know she´s doing it, but she´ll be teaching me a most useful skill, which is also, at the same time, a great way to get high, naturally.¨
The memoir of a boy who arrived in America in the early 1960s as part of Cuba's Operation Peter Pan. Over 14,000 Cuban children were airlifted out of the country and placed in American foster homes as their parents lost everything and feared their children would fall into the clutches of Communists.
The story of how Carlos and his brother endured this ripping apart of their family is fascinating, but toward the end the book started to fall apart for me. After his mother finally arrived from Cuba to live with her two sons, the narrative started skipping around, leaving out huge chunks of time, and not relating what it was like for Carlos and his brother to be reunited with the woman they hadn't seen for over 3 years. I was disappointed by this. I also found the last few pages to be completely inscrutable.
The author is a master with words and images, but at times he waxes on the side of melodrama. Still, I always enjoy books about Cuba and the experience of exile, so overall I enjoyed it.
Although the narrative felt rushed and a bit disjointed in the last two or three chapters, I loved this book! The beginning was hilarious and the audiobook's reader did a good job of interpreting the author's sense of wonder and disbelief about his new world. I too arrived from Cuba at eleven years of age, three years after Carlos made the trip. Fortunately for me, I arrived with both parents and did not share many of the hardships faced by Carlos and Tony. Nonetheless, so much of the story was familiar. I can vouch for its authenticity. The dying and re-birthing in the same body is the story of every immigrant, or at least that of every young immigrant who wishes to succeed. Social studies books did portray all Latin Americans as extremely backward. We experienced prejudice and racism; worked from an early age, and combed the streets for bottles that we could turn in for 2 cents. Definitely worth reading.