A sister trying to hold back her brother from the edge of the abyss, for readers of Jesmyn Ward and Tommy Orange.
In the tourist town of Ciudad de Tres Hermanas, in the aftermath of their mother's passing, two siblings spend a final weekend together in their childhood home. Seeing her brother, Rafa, careening toward a place of no return, Rufina devises a bet: if they can make enough money performing for privileged tourists in the plaza over the course of the weekend to afford a plane ticket out, Rafa must commit to living. If not, Rufina will make her peace with Rafa's own plan for the future, however terrifying it may be.
As the siblings reckon with generational and ancestral trauma, set against the indignities of present-day prejudice, other strange hauntings begin to stalk these pages: their mother's ghost kicks her heels against the walls; Rufina's vanished child creeps into her arms at night; and above all this, watching over the siblings, a genderless, flea-bitten angel remains hell-bent on saving what can be saved.
Jamie Figueroa is the author of the critically acclaimed novel Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer (Catapult 2021), which was shortlisted for the Reading the West Book Award and long-listed for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize, was an Indie Next pick, a Good Morning America must-read book of the month, and was named a most anticipated debut of the year by Bustle, Electric Literature, The Millions, and Rumpus. A member of the faculty in the MFA Creative Writing program at the Institute of American Indian Arts, Figueroa has published writing in American Short Fiction, Emergence Magazine, Elle, McSweeney’s, Agni, The New York Times, and the Boston Review, among other publications. A Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation (VONA) alum, she received a Truman Capote Award and was a Bread Loaf Rona Jaffe Scholar. Boricua (Afro-Taíno) by way of Ohio, Figueroa is a longtime resident of northern New Mexico.
The novel is gorgeously written. I kept highlighting passages because they were so uniquely rendered. The story itself kept me at arm’s length by withholding information and describing horrific bleak circumstances in a way so beautiful that I became a bit detached from what I was reading. The brother and sister protagonists seem to act and think in ways much younger than their ages and I wasn’t sure if that was an artifact of the style of writing, or something I was meant to believe about them, that their bleak circumstances had left them childlike and helpless. Some of the magical elements were delightfully original. I think it would have worked better for me as a short story. I’m open to reading more from this author and I’m glad to have had the experience of reading something so unique even if it challenged me a little too much in the end to love it.
This was an emotional symphony that managed to complicate the cacophony that comes with loss--loss of identity, loss of county, loss of loved ones, loss of self. I've never read such a complex story about grief and the many forms it takes and in such a way that feels like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. This is a testament to Figueroa's writing skill because she beautiful crafts each sentence as though it was meant to be there. A true wordsmith.
At times, I almost felt that I was the wrong reader for this book, especially when discussing the privilege of travel, of choosing to leave one's homeland instead of choosing to leave. I have chosen to leave, while at the same time I didn't. Though I do not need to experience being forced out to appreciate this book and the perspective it gives, I do feel as though I haven't read enough voices from the people who have been forcibly thrown out of their homeland and are subjected to the exotic notions of white tourists who have only read about other cultures but have nothing that relates, nothing that's tangible to what Rufina, Rafa, and their mother experienced. To explore the world is a privilege--something I've never thought about before. That is not to say that one cannot explore the world, but explorers need to be aware of where they are at all times. Many tourists stop at the sight of two siblings earning money so that they may win a bet that is life or death, literally. But they do not know why they are subjected to the square, only that they are there to entertain. They do not know the stories because they do not care. They only care about the experience because they will go home and say, "I've had a great time."
In all, this debut has made me think about both travel and the stories I have yet to read. This is such a beautiful example of what the book industry has failed to exalt in the past. Figueroa writes with power, a power that should not be ignored.
Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer is a wild read: full of magical realism and disparate parts that a reader has to trust will come together by the end. And the reader is rewarded. The story of the four title characters—brother; sister; mother, now dead but still a presence in the family home; explorer, long vanished; a transsexual angel; the shadow of a stillborn baby; a devoted policeman; a collective of elderly women, the Grandmothers of All; and whole herds of oblivious tourists—becomes immensely engaging as the novel progresses and the reader sees what's at stake for each character.
If you like original, rich fiction with a risk-taking style, you won't want to miss this title. There's nothing else out there like it.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher; the opinions are my own.
Very atmospheric writing that keeps the reader engaged in this story about grief and hardship. An adult brother and sister who recently lost their mother try to make it through a weekend. The impetus seems silly but the way it’s written demonstrates complexity in life, emotions and relationships. A beautiful, sad yet short and quick reading novel. Thank you NetGalley for the ARC.
Figueroa writes sentences that sing and a world that comes alive in strange, mystical ways. For me though, there was a bit of the emotional core that felt a little too distant, like it didn’t want to be found, but maybe there’s something in that, too. 3.5/5
Wow. A beautiful, lyrical, poignant piece of literary fiction (which, to this reader, falls squarely under the umbrella of magical realism, and thus, in my lazy but convenient Goodreads shelving policy, means it gets treated as sci-fi and fantasy, even if it's (more than) somewhat out of place there).
No, it's not a happy book, but it's incredibly nicely crafted (and, thus, well worth reading).
I concede that I was surprised it was published a couple of years ago, and I hadn't previously heard about it, but I found it recently on a popular Indie reads list, and it very much sounded like something that would speak to me, and I wasn't disappointed.
More novella than novel, more art than anything else. I'm glad it came to my attention.
This book was beautifully written and absolutely fantastic. It starts with such a bang that it was so hard to tear myself away because of the author's language and the intimacy it creates. Also, the way the author wrote about the mother-child relationship was so beautiful, especially the grief. I love that the author approached grief with a magical realist bent to help people experience it differently. That's what literature is all about, getting people to look at things in a new way. We all open our eyes and essentially have the same day. The world is there, but sometimes we need to shift how we see it.
One passage stood out to me when the author wrote, "The day after Rosalinda's death, Rafa and Rufina had both lain on the cold tile floor of the living room, neither of them able to will themselves to stand, put a match to kindling, and tend a fire that would thaw them. Instead, they remained numb. Grief waited as the edges, sniffing the boundaries of their bodies waiting to be let in. The house had no choice but to watch." Then she writes, "With each week, then each month, Rafa had lost more weight, paled further, spoke less. Each new day had demanded he endure. He lit one of Rosalinda's cigarette butts stained with her fuchsia lipstick and let the smoke fill his nose. Laced with the sent of her headache-inducing perfume, he could not get enough of his mother, the woman who was no more." So beautiful.
"Outside the bedroom door, in the hallway, their dead mother was making a racket, pounding her feet against the door. For Rafa, the dead mother shimmered in and out of reality. Mainly, he understood her to have taken the form of a memory, though there were moments he wasnt sure. He could sense her near--his nose prickling with her perfume, his hand warming as if touching her cheek--and then he couldn't sense her near at all. It was death he felt near him, a kind of lullaby that overtook him." • 🌿 Thoughts ~ What a beautifully written, hauntingly devastating novel about grief, siblings and trauma.
Taking place in the tourists town of Ciudad de Tres Hermanas, siblings Rufina and Rafa are lost in a fog of grief after their mothers death. Rufina must keep her brother from going over the edge, so she makes a bet with him that if they make enough money over the weekend off the privileged tourists they will fly away from their dismal existence and start anew. But if she loses she must accept whatever fate her brother chooses.
Figueroa blew me away with her prose and gorgeously crafted sentences. Reading this story felt dreamlike, but the content was more nightmarish. Figueroa writes about the need to flee your homeland, the many sides of loss, generational and ancestral trauma so clearly. Beautifully done, a quick but impactful read!
Thank You to the publisher for sending me this book, opinions are my own. • For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
I chose this book in honor of Latinx heritage month at our library. What at lucky choice! Wonderful (and painful) story with exceptional writing, all in Jamie Figueroa’s first novel. She offers a creative way of visualizing the toll and pain of loss, along with offering one of the ways that grief can bend a person’s mind when it cannot tolerate the loss. Non-linear time-line also deftly shows how in one’s mind we can jump between the present and the past. One feels the heavy weight of the losses and the sister’s struggle to keep up and stay afloat while everyone else is sinking. Adroit subtle commentary on first world traveler’s privilege and ignorance. Wonderful “angels” in the waiting and sidelines. Such a fantastic and different way of offering up an experience of loss and the limits people will go to for relief. Highly recommend it!
the magical realism is trippy sometimes, and i can find myself confused by the genre, 'brother, sister, mother, explorer' has the weirdness locked in place. figueroa is a detailed writer, the imagery of the story remains in my head. this book flows like roberto bolano's work, and has the - ridiculous yet all too real - absurdity of a book like 'friday black.' i tended to gloss over the first half, but the second half ramps up the drama, never knowing if disaster will strike. middle and upper class people traveling to exploited areas for vacation/tourism, etc. without even a hint of guilt is fascinating as it is troubling, and this book really hones in on that element. strange, distant depiction of intimate trauma makes the writing even more uncomfortable, but i assume that's part of the point. not my usual type of writing, but can't deny the quality.
Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer was a deeply moving novel about the past and present trauma that indigenous people face. The story follows a brother and sister as they try to reckon with the loss of their mother. I was swept away into a world that is entirely different from my own. Thanks you NetGalley and Catapult for allowing me a first read of this beautiful novel.
Pub Date: 02 Mar 2021 Book: 88/101 (2020) Star Rating: 4
this was so beautifully written, at times to it's detriment. the first half felt hard to focus and i found myself just 'getting through' it, but the second half got me. so emotional, so sad and so beautiful.
"Inside your bones are the cells that can feel the vibration of all kinds of stories. Their humming often escapes you. This is not entirely your fault, but the disbelief is. Start there." . I don't think it's easy to explain or review a book like this. It's weird and beautiful and painful, and one of those novels that will either immediately work for you or it won't. Poetic writing aside, content warnings abound. Storygraph has a thorough list.
It reminded me (in hard to articulate ways) of Bluets by Maggie Nelson, of Rivers Solomon, of Pigs by Johanna Stoberock, of @booksnailmail's short stories.
I will be thinking about this book for a long time.
Huge thanks to @bookdragon217 for putting it on my radar. Can't wait to hear what the author says during Sharon's book club later this month... 👀
Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer by Jamie Figueroa This breathtaking debut novel by Jamie Figueroa is now on my all-time favorite book list. Her writing and storytelling is courageous, poetic, and stark. All of the characters spoke to me in a direct, raw way-- striking my heart with grief, compassion, anger, and hope.
The story is layered with familial relationships that are knotted and woven with past traumas. The main characters, Rafa and Rufina struggle to integrate the past with the present while seamlessly traversing between worlds as memories continuously unfold. Personal, cultural, and intergenerational healing is found in surprising ways within the larger "family" that surrounds and protects these characters.
I almost gave up on this book because it was devastating. It aches. And I wanted to start 2024 with more joy. But alas, the writing is so beautiful I couldn’t stop. Magical realism. Ancestors. Generational trauma.
In this haunting debut novel about deep-seated trauma and grief, a sister attempts to hold back the wave of grief that threatens to wash away her one remaining family member. They live in a tourist town reminiscent of Taos, New Mexico. Its name: Ciudad de Tres Hermanas. The story takes place over the course of three days, but sweeps us back and forth in time, memory, and geography. Ghosts and angels populate the narrative, as do those blessed and/or haunted by these magically realistic characters. Author Jamie Figueroa writes as if possessed by these spirits herself; her language and style, gorgeous and fluid and striking. As in the captivating street performances that Rufina and Rafa are forced to deliver, Figueroa makes us spectators one moment, participants the next. It's amazing how she seamlessly weaves third-person omniscient point of view with second-person imperative throughout. [Thanks to NetGalley for the advanced reader’s copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.]
This had an awkward start for me and I wasn't sure I was going to like it. I couldn't grasp how I was supposed to interpret the brother and sister-- literally or figuratively? But I stuck with it and it came together. The reader gets crumbs of the past and it does make sense in the end.
The writing is beautiful if bleak. Certainly there are a lot of trigger warnings with this one but I'm glad I read it. It was unique.
"Gathering air feels not unlike sipping it from a straw. Which is to say sometimes the hardest part about surviving is remembering to breathe."
Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer by Jamie Figueroa was January's pick for #ReadPuertoRican book club. This was a unique story about a sister trying to get her brother to agree to keep living after their mother has died and she is haunted by the secrets of their family. The story takes place over the course of a weekend through flashbacks and brilliant speculative writing. This is a ghost story unlike any I've read before.
The atmospheric and poetic writing were perfect for the slow reveal of events. The sense of dread never left while reading. I felt in the pit of stomach that something terrible was coming but I couldn't step away from the page. The way Figueroa kept peeling away layer after layer until the heart of the story lay bare was captivating. This one left me with my heart aching and a face full of tears at the magnitude of grief that these pages contained.
Where this novel excelled was in the exploration of deep themes. The white gaze is dissected throughout the majority of the novel. The characters are Indigenous performers and Figueroa sheds light on the racism of tourism and the pervasiveness of the white gaze. It makes me reflect on the question of who gets to tell their stories and who deems these stories valid? She explores the idea of family, community and mutual aid as vital to survival to Indigenous groups. She also reminds us that unresolved trauma isn't living and that we can't force someone else to want to stay alive either. Sometimes, we have to sever the ties to toxic relationships in order to heal and stop revisiting with the ghosts of the past. The theme of silence is prevalent in the ways that it complicates and destroys mother-daughter relationships. What seems like protection can result in competition . In addition, guilt can become the avenue that shapes futures.
Overall, this was a stunning debut and a unique reading experience. I'm anxiously awaiting more from Figueroa, a boricua voice to keep your eye on. If speculative fiction and literary prose is your jam, this is a must read.
When their mother Rosalinda dies, Rufina and Rufa, brother and sister, find their inability to accept the loss evokes ghosts, those of the past and of a particularly helpful angel. Not to mention a local member of the police force who has been in love with Rufina since they were in school. In gorgeous prose formed by layers of reality and fantasy, Jaimie Figueroa spins out their tale revealing traumas of the past and the misconceptions of the tourists who visit the high desert city they inhabit. She is deliberately vague as to Rosalinda's origins thus obfuscating the tribal traditions usually a factor in books covering this material, but that doesn't lessen the impact of the power of the fate of these three. Lovely.
Told in the third person, this book felt more like someone describing a play to me than a story. I think this treatment, and my reaction to it, kept me somewhat distanced from the characters and the action. Instead of being in the story, I felt separated. But, that story almost felt like a fairy tale, though a grim one at best. Siblings are dealing with their mother's death while their own pasts swirl around them. It is murky and disturbing but somehow still beautiful and almost poetic in the way the story is told. The descriptions of the scenery and the many people who come through the story are exquisite. A story of love shrouded in a fog of grief. Perhaps that distance is there to protect the reader from the full force of the characters' emotions?
Thanks to NetGalley and Catapult for a copy of the book. This review is my own opinion.
This was a beautifully written prose about two siblings unable to truly process their mother's death. "Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer" was a blend of fantasy of reality which slowly reveals both the personal traumas and cultural traumas that the characters have endured and the various misconceptions that tourists have for both Indigenous people and the town.
This book took me some time to read because it dealt with very dark topics and it was a complex story about grief that makes you take breaks so you can fully process what you have just read,
Figueroa's writing was very captivating and I look forward to reading more of her works.
It reminded me of Mexico, the tourists who believe all locals are there for their entertainment, and the locals who complain among each other but suck it up and perform for the benevolent coins.
The language is ridiculously intelligent, evidence that every sentence was pored over relentlessly, “by that I mean” it wasn’t just deep and poetic at the beginning and the end with a massive lull in the middle but all the way through.
And I’m not a fan of magical realism or fantastic narratives but this one really worked for me.
Set in New Mexico, the story of an immigrant mother, who has just passed, and her two children, and the white man who pushes himself into their lives. I’ll leave it at that. But I think knowing this from the start will be supremely helpful in anchoring yourself. The novel starts out with the two children, Rafa and Rufina, mourning the death of their mother, and hoping to make some money over the weekend so Rafa can start his life somewhere else that will be better and more healthy for him. The novel takes place over 3 days. The novel includes magical realism, which is something I’m not typically a huge fan of, but I really loved it here.
Once I got into it, this was a very powerful novel. However, I wasn’t able to anchor myself to the story for much too long, and so I didn’t really start to enjoy it until past the halfway mark. I’m glad I stuck it out though, because, SHIT. It was powerful; it was tragic. The writing was very poetic, which, when I understood what was happening, was LOVELY and very emotional. I highly recommend, given that you have a general knowledge of what the whole story is about before you read.
“What is cancer if not a malfunction of time? Centuries compressed inside her, the rapid mutation of cells crystalizing. All those ancestors, begging to be counted, calling out.”
“She is unaware of the demand in her question, the exhaustion her privilege causes in those without it.”
Listened to this while cleaning and folding laundry. Easy audio to get through within six/seven hours. The first half felt a little slow moving, possibly because it goes straight into what the summary tells us was going to happen, Rufina tries to convince her older brother Rafe to make money with her over the weekend to justify him wanting to leave after their mother died. This picks up about 3/4 of the way in when we get some perspective into generational trauma. I’m surprised this was published in 2021 because I didn’t hear or see anything about it in terms of pre order or publishing buzz. Props to the author for sticking this one out but I wish this had kept me more engaged, drifted in and out with this piece ☹️
“Brother, Sister, Mother, Explorer” is unlike anything I’ve read in a long time. It combines family, sorrow, sexual abuse, abandonment, ancestral trauma, memories, love and loyalty. Toss is some magical realism and exquisite, lyrical prose by Jamie Figueroa and you’ve got a winner!
At times, I didn’t know what I was reading. Was the mother dead? Was she a ghost? Who was the angel? And was the baby real? It was surreal, but worth the wait to see how the book ends. It’s short enough to read in a few hours to find out.
There are beautiful—often hidden—messages throughout. This makes it an excellent read for #ownvoices book clubs picks and English lit classes. One of the wonderful messages is this:
“Happiness, you should know, is just another way of remembering who you are… Summon your strength. It is life coming for you. Your own future is coming for you, charging toward you with all its thundering force. Be ready.”
Many thanks to Catapult for the advanced reader copy of the book, via NetGalley. I appreciate this experience very much.
3.5 stars This was a strange reading experience for me. At times I was totally engrossed, and at other times I found myself distracted and unable to penetrate the story.
This mystical, slim novel about family and trauma is undoubtedly beautifully written. There are so many lines and passages that beg to be re-read, underlined, and highlighted. That was one of may favorite things about the book.
The novel has a dream-like, circular quality to it. At times that felt like half the point and at others I felt stuck as a reader and had to just kind of push forward until I inevitably fell back into the story. For me, the novel definitely picked up steam later in the book and the latter section definitely packs some emotional punch.
I think there is a lot of good stuff here, especially for fans of magical realism and beautiful prose. But at times it felt a little opaque. My struggles may have come down to my headspace on the particular days I sat down with the book, and I suspect a re-read at some point would only increase my enjoyment and appreciation for it.
Hauntingly beautiful. A poetic, captivating debut novel by Jamie Figueroa, whose tale of a heart-wrenching journey of a brother and sister as they face the realities of ancestral and generational trauma will be sure to stick with you for a long time. Exquisitely crafted, this is the first of what I hope to be many novels by Figueroa.
I received a free hard copy book from the publisher; the opinions in this review are my own.
Everyone in this book is so wounded. So many ways to be abused; so many ways to cope. So much suffering. My heart goes out to Figueroa.
I’m going to punt on writing any sort of review and on assigning any stars. It’s too complicated. On the whole the book didn’t work for me—too many fantastical elements, too much bleakness—but I kept reading, felt drawn in, and am glad to have done so. I just don’t think I got everything out of it that the author intended.
Half-siblings, Rufina, age 28 and Rafa, age 30, share their grief at their mothers death, but its worse for Rafa. He wants to end his life. Rufina makes a deal with him. If they can make enough money in their high desert town in the southwest entertaining tourists, Rafe has to promise to keep living and go look for what will make him happy. There are plenty of ghosts and memories to keep them company, including memories of their mother’s boyfriend, Explorer. There are lots of do-gooders wanting to help them, but all the good-hearted people do is slow down their goal of earning enough money in a week. The characters at times leaped off the page, but what I enjoyed the most was the comments about the gringo tourists who seemingly patronize the local Latinos. Figueroa’s deeply moving debut novel already has me looking forward to her next book.