A true believer is faced with a choice between love for his family and the Cuban Revolution.
Usnavy has always been a true believer. When the Cuban Revolution triumphed in 1959, he was just a young man and eagerly signed on for all of its promises. But as the years have passed, the sacrifices have outweighed the glories and he's become increasingly isolated in his revolutionary zeal. His friends openly mock him, his wife dreams of owning a car totally outside their reach, and his beloved fourteen-year-old daughter haunts the coast of Havana, staring north.
In the summer of 1994, a few years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the government allows Cubans to leave at will and on whatever will float. More than 100,000 flee—including Usnavy's best friend. Things seem to brighten when he stumbles across what may or may not be a priceless Tiffany lamp that reveals a lost family secret and fuels his long repressed feelings . . . But now Usnavy is faced with a choice between love for his family and the Revolution that has shaped his entire life.
Achy Obejas is the award-winning author of Days of Awe, Memory Mambo and We Came all the Way from Cuba So You Could Dress Like This? Her poems, stories and essays have appeared in dozens of anthologies, including Akashic's Chicago Noir. A long time contributor to the Chicago Tribune, she was part of the 2001 investigative team that earned a Pulitzer Prize for the series, “Gateway to Gridlock.” Her articles have appeared in Vanity Fair, Village Voice, The Nation, Playboy, and MS, among others. Currently, she is a music contributor to the Washington Post and the Sor Juana Writer in Residence at DePaul University in Chicago. She was born in Havana
(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com:]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)
(Important disclosure: Achy Obejas is an acquaintance of mine, and is scheduled to be interviewed for the CCLaP Podcast later this winter; nonetheless, I have tried to write as objective a review of her book here as possible.)
Ah, Cuba! Just the name alone is enough to conjure up a myriad of images in most Americans' minds -- from its colonial days as a US-supported tourist paradise, to its countercultural-era communist revolution (seen by some as impossibly romantic and others as the pinnacle of the Red Scare), to its years as a next-door pawn in the US/Soviet Cold War, and now to its tragic modern history, where the veil of state secrecy has lifted to reveal a country in deep financial and spiritual trouble, a people struggling to hold together as a nation even as they face their first leadership crisis in half a century.
And certainly, Chicago author and Pulitzer winner* Achy Obejas knows something about this subject herself: born in Cuba right before the revolution, an emigre at the age of six to Indiana of all places, she has not only maintained close ties to her native country but has traveled there extensively as an adult, and in fact first gained fame for a series of short stories and then a novel about the Cuban-American immigrant experience. And so that's what makes her newest novel such a surprise, the aptly-titled Ruins put out just a little earlier this year by the fine folks at Akashic Books, because in many ways it's an anti-Cuban right-winger's dream -- set in 1994 during the middle of what's known there as the "Special Period" (i.e. the disastrous years after the fall of the Soviet Union, when a new treaty spearheaded by Bill Clinton led to the mass exodus of hundreds of thousands of Cubans to the US), the book is an unflinching look at all the ways that nation has fallen apart because of communism, a Caribbean 1984 if you will where seemingly all aspects of Cuban life are rapidly crumbling, except for the Kafkaesque totalitarian bureaucracy that's supposed to be holding it all together.
Like I said, this is unusual for the liberal, politically active Obejas, who before this novel was actually as well-known for her lesbianism as for her Cuban heritage (she's the past winner of a Lambda Award on top of everything else, a prestigious honor within the gay literary community for those who don't know); or at the very least, I certainly wasn't expecting a novel about how terrible Cuba has become in recent years, a dark and pessimistic tale that I suspect is going to take many of her existing fans by surprise. It's primarily the story of aging revolutionary Usnavy (pronounced "us-nah-VEE," and yes, named for the American warships docked in the Guantanamo Bay area where he was born), in his mid-fifties now when our story takes place and seen as hopelessly old-fashioned by everyone around him, a proud veteran of Che Guevara's youth brigades who is one of the only people left in his neighborhood to sincerely believe in the communist ideal.
And of course it's this that ultimately does make Ruins a Obejas novel instead of a right-winger's wet dream, because Obejas brings a plain-spoken complexity and humanity to a subject that's been so cartoonishly vilified in the American psyche over the decades; take away the communism, for example, and Usnavy could easily be a character from a Richard Russo novel, a skinny-tie-wearing worshipper of Modernism now dazed and confused by the changes in society brought about by the postmodernism and moral relativity of the '70s, '80s and '90s. That's the truly brilliant and heartbreaking aspect of the novel, in that Usnavy has a kind of quiet mid-century dignity that you want to inherently root for, even as you understand how ridiculously outdated it is -- he's one of those people who still believes in dressing up when visiting a government building, still believes that if you simply work within the system without complaint long enough you will eventually get what you're seeking, no matter how much evidence to the contrary is presented to him. (For a good example, see the book-length struggle Usnavy goes through in trying to track down a copy of his teenage daughter's birth certificate, a whole series of blackly comedic events that could've been lifted straight from the pages of Catch-22.)
And in fact this seems to be the bigger point Obejas is trying to make in Ruins, that Cuba as a whole is much like Usnavy as an individual, that there's a quiet dignity to its entire national character that is clashing badly these days with a Castro regime falling apart at the seams, an ugly "everyone for themselves" attitude that has arisen in its wake, and the accidental funding of this attitude by obnoxious Western tourists, waving around huge wads of dollars and euros for any local willing to denigrate themselves enough. Because make no mistake, we white folks don't get off easy in this novel either; the book is in fact full of subplots where Canadians, Europeans and Americans (the latter of course traveling there illegally) just keep making a bad situation worse and worse, sometimes with these Westerners even being do-gooder liberals who don't deliberately mean to. I mean, just take the main subplot running throughout for an excellent example of this, the way that Usnavy gets slowly sucked into a circle of shady hucksters who scavenge half-broken old Tiffany lamps from historically important disaster sites and sell them to gullible, cash-flush Westerners, many of whom are specifically there just for this purpose; the multiple surprises embedded in this subplot are best left as secret as possible (it's this storyline, after all, that mainly propels the book's actual plot), but let's just say that in general, this looting of national treasures in order to turn a quick American buck becomes the proverbial poisoned apple for our once-noble hero, corroding him more and more until reaching the legitimately tragic ending this novel has.
It was a real surprise, to tell you the truth, after expecting some happy little multicultural magic-realism fairytale that would undoubtedly make for a heartwarming Lifetime movie, and I applaud Obejas for heading in a much darker direction than I think many of her fans would expect her to go. Or, you know, I could be completely wrong, and perhaps the rest of her work is just as bleak as this masterfully expansive yet intimate tale; that's the problem of course of bringing your own biases into a reading experience beforehand, and is why I'm now looking forward to going back and reading all her past books myself, in preparation for our interview for the CCLaP Podcast coming later this winter. As you can tell, it's a book I highly recommend, a story that will satisfy no matter what your personal opinion of either Cuba or communism in general. Do make sure to pick up a copy without delay.
Out of 10: 9.4
*Well, okay, she was part of a team of reporters at the Chicago Tribune who all shared a group Pulitzer; but it's still impressive.
The first half of this book is great - full of great descriptions that put you in a foreign land. The foreign land is Cuba, of course, but also a place of overwhelming - almost unbelievable - poverty. A place where the main character, Usnavy, refuses to give up on the promise of the great revolution - no matter how little he - or anyone else around him has benefited.
There is such great poverty and glimmers of hope and escape. The primary food - often the only food - is rice. Some find better food through using the black market, but Usnavy is above that. His wife finds a way to make a delicious stewed meat, but the true ingredients sicken Usnavy. His bicycle makes his life pleasurable and easy - at least relatively speaking - but, that too, is only temporary.
This is Cuba, so of course the ultimate hope and poverty is Cuba itself - the beautiful land and the revolution that promised so much and delivered so little. Usnavy still believes in the revolution, but he starts to see glimmers of a better life and he starts to doubt the revolution, his life, possibly even his beloved Cuba.
Is Usnavy's life improved by the glimmers of hope and light or do they just illuminate the poverty and hopelessness?
I don't think the second half of the book quite lives up to the promise of the first half - but this is a difficult book and so, perhaps it is my vision that is fault. I would give this book ****1/2.
Enjoyed this book thoroughly. Learned a good deal about modern Cuba, and was surprised by much of what I did discover, and chagrined to realize how little I know about the country.
I found the character of Usnavy fascinating, and also enjoyed the portrayals of the other figures in the novel. Also appreciated the complexity of themes--Cuba post-Soviet breakdown vs earlier, more optimistic Cuba, the allure of the practical and prosaic vs adherence to revolutionary zeal, the complexity of Cuban society, and more.
Very much enjoyed the vivid details of modern-day Havana juxtaposed against its earlier colonial self. And, yes, like others have noted on Goodreads, I was taken aback by the grimness of the details of poverty on the island. I haven't been living in a cave, but I too did not know how bad conditions, at least in the early 90's, had become.
Despite all of this, I, like others here, did feel frustrated with this novel. I felt that for the richness and breath of its thematic material, and the multiplicity of characters, that the work could have been, and would have benefitted from being, expanded. After a very promising opening, the material bogged down somewhat in the middle, and, then, at the end, I was left very unsatisfied.
This is, after all, a novel. Obejas is taking us on a journey, and most readers, due to the novel's vividness, unique setting, details, and sympathetic characters are prepared to stay with it. I felt that the main character, Usnavy's, relationships with his wife and daughter needed much more fleshing out. His wife, in particular, remained throughout the entire book, very undeveloped, which struck me as simply unrealistic. Late appearing possible revelations regarding Usnavy's parentage and background could, and I think, should have been carried out further. And, Usnavy's shift into greater acceptance of capitalistic values and behavior felt somewhat tacked on, without needed interior explanation and development.
Despite all this, the book is a very valuable read, and I do recommend it.
This is the first story I’ve read written by a Cuban and taking place in Cuba. I had only very vague and general impressions of Cuba, from snippets of conversation with others, Canadians who have vacationed in Cuba. It is still favoured by Canadians who want a vacation in a sunny spot, with nice beaches. They just avoid the areas outside of the resorts, and so don't have even an inkling about what life is really like there for Cubans. This book gives a glimpse into that world. The poverty described reminded me of that suffered in North Korea. People so hungry that they boil bits of blankets in a seasoned broth. The cloth fragments take on the consistency of meat, and it fools the stomach for several hours.
First off, this is not a crime novel. I read it anyway.
This slight book is a glimpse into everyday Cuban life. I couldn't help but compare it to two recent books. Like Michael Gruber's The Forgery of Venus, it's a book about authenticity and value. Like James Church's Inspector O novels, it's a slice of life under an oppressive government. In Church's North Korea the government is involved in every facet of people's lives. In Obejas's Cuba the government has ceased to care. The end result for both is starvation.
This book was a very good read. The story tells what it was like to live in Cuba after the fall of the Soviet Union. There was great poverty, and after Cuba's revolution too much time had passed for the people to have hope that things were going to get better. People were allowed to leave on anything that they could build that would float to escape the poverty , in hopes that they would make it to Florida or Hatti. Over 100,000 people left the island that way. This story is about one family who stayed and tried to endure. 4 stars for me.
The book does a great job at portraying so many different aspects of the life of Usnavy and the issues in Special Period Cuba. It pulled at my emotions every which way and, at least to me highlighted many contradictions and important elements of what makes one human. It has a bit of a slow start but the culmination of themes makes it a great read. This review can't quite do it justice as it is an experience difficult to describe, so reading it for oneself is the only work around.
I read this for a Latino Lit class. It’s devastating. The imagery and glimpses of Cuba are beautiful and tragic, but I hate the ending. It echoes a lot of immigration conversations valid in 2017-2019, and opens your eyes to some realities that are unbearable. However, I don’t like any of the characters or the circumstances (and maybe that’s the point). Don’t read for a happy ending.
I read each line, paragraph, and page with anticipation and foreboding as Obejas took the story through a kaleidoscope of culture, history, politics, and the human psyche. Obejas' descriptions were an enchanting counterpoint to the dark truths at the heart of her story.
Not my favorite of this author's works. I wish I could have gotten my hands on this editorially. Flat characters, uneven pacing, and unclear character motivation. Days of Awe and Memory Mambo are so much richer; if you haven't read any of this author's works yet, start with those.
This is a captivating story of Cuba at a very particular moment. The main character is a kind of metaphor for the time. Even if you are not interested in the country, you will gain insight into its importance through this book. Reading this engages all the senses.
I initially ran across a short excerpt of the writing of Achy Obejas in the exhaustive Cuban Reader and immediately fell in love with her descriptive writing. Her ability to portray a place in words makes it seem almost like you're in the setting yourself. Her brutal honesty, and direct use of symbolism, makes this a very entertaining read. In fact, I finished Ruins in just a couple of days, reading it straight through.
The name of the main character, Usnavy, is very exemplary of how creative and cool Achy Obejas really is. The name Usnavy underscores and illuminates many latent themes running through the book, not the least of which is the looming presence of the Guantanamo Naval Base. But there is also the on-going domination of Cuban culture by other nations, beginning with the Spanish, then the U.S., then the Soviets, and now, in the face of waning world communism, a looming uncertainty of how Cuba should progress as a nation.
The main character, Usnavy, first personifies the hopelessness of one who has relinquished his ambition for an ideology that is not paying dividends. Usnavy is initially mesmerized in a fog, purposefully ignoring the practicalities of life, cowering within ideology as a way to avoid ambition and responsibility. He can never seem to get anything finished. He can’t conclude the quest to get his daughters ID renewed, he can’t find a new pair of shoes, he never repairs the crumbling ceiling in his home, he forgets to reconcile with his wife, he can’t even seem to get to work on time. His whole demeanor is reflective of the entire nation, somehow stuck, and in need of some new and vital catalyst that can propel it out of an onerous funk.
The sole focal point for Usnavy is a huge fake Tiffany lamp, which exists as a symbol of a hanging idea, unrealized, something just to stare at, to contemplate, an immobile fixture. Through her main character, Objejas first presents a clear picture of the kind of poverty and apparent immobility that plagues Cuban locals. She paints a picture of the sort of entrapment locals must feel, locked on an island, in the midst of a questionable social experiment, now gone awry.
But on into the book, Usnavy turns a corner and begins to grasp that we must go beyond idealism and somehow engage the materiality of the world. He discovers that his lamp is valuable. He sells some of the valuable glass panels from the lamp. Through his action, Usnavy discovers that what was once only a fixture is transformed into something of value. By marketing, what was once only an illuminating idea, Usnavy has improved his situation. As a result, Usnavy begins a successful quest for other valuable glass in the ruins of collapsed buildings, ultimately transforming himself into an entrepreneur of sorts. I sense Achy suggesting that much value exists in the people of Cuba and in the ruins of their exploited nation. In the minor successes of Usnavy, Achy portrays a hope that Cuba may similarly find the ability to change, on its own, without coercion from the North.
But even with his minor materialistic successes, Usnavy remains an apparently unhappy character. Materialism changes his situation but true happiness still eludes him. As is her trademark, Obejas leaves us with the stark, brutally honest reality: that mankind is still searching for more perfect social solutions.
Achy Obejas strikes an affecting tone with her novel, acted out through Usnavy, a protagonist who is simply going through the motions, not really aware of the geopolitical restrictions that bind him.
A central struggle lies within Usnavy's mind: much like how his crudely "American" name slapdashed together from a U.S. Navy ship clashes with his Cuban body, he rejects capitalism on the grounds of Cuban revolutionary ideals, even as he resorts to illicit bisnes (business) to support his family. Survival and communist idealism clash, creating cognitive dissonance not only in the mind of the reader, but also in the mind of Usnavy. Though portrayed as a bit of a simpleton, he still gives voice to this dissonance, reluctantly saying that the illegal sale of blankets marinated in meat juice was "good" (Obejas 132). This personal shift toward capitalism, viewed by Usnavy as treacherous, is eventually justified because it gives him a sense of respect and purpose. Previously, this was offered to him by revolutionary fervor, but the drying up of food supplies forces him to confront reality.
As one reads through the book, they get a sense of the economic barriers to well-being in Havana, and conversely, the benefit of American ties. Obejas makes no effort to sugarcoat the stark economic reality of those in Havana, and side hustles of all shapes and sizes crop up, not least of which is Usnavy's acquiring and selling of lamps.
Ruins is a matter-of-fact account of Usnavy's goal to just get by. While the step-by-step style of writing bogs down the narrative at times, the familial, economic, and political dimensions of Havana, Cuba are parsed to great effect.
After a few chapters, I knew a lot more about dominos... and Tiffany lamps and the hopeless bureaucracy that summons the pace and the place of Havana- I kept reading... and though, having just returned from Cuba, I enjoyed the descriptions of the Malecón and depiction of poverty through rations and rug sandwiches, I felt the book never really went anywhere. Someone might say, "exactly, a true testament and perhaps living metaphor, reflecting the life and struggle of many Cubans..." but I wanted more. What we put into our novels what we know.... I found Obejas didn't disguise this well enough and I found the aforementioned details (dominos, lamps) didn't weave into the meaning of the story or further the plot in so much as they stuck out awkwardly, tediously. And then the ending? That may be my fault; not sure what happened there. I was close to three stars because it let me stay in Cuba a little longer, but it missed the mark overall I thought.
Usnavy is a great and sympathetic character. In a parallel universe, he would be an absentminded professor, prone to daydreams and idealism, but in Cuba he's a true believer trapped in poverty as his more pragmatic friends (who aren't opposed to a little black-market capitalism) pass him by. As he investigates his one glamorous possession, an old Tiffany-style lamp, he strangely grows both more practical and more dreamy, realizing its dollar value while chasing after glimmers of broken glass in ruined buildings. In this way, I wasn't sure what the book was concluding politically, but that's probably okay. I just enjoyed Usnavy and the threads of mystery and magic beneath the simple story of a man trying to care for his family.
I was really excited about reading this book, having visited Havana a couple of years ago and having read several glowing reviews. But for me, it wasn't that great. The colorful descriptions of life in Havana for the "have-nots" under the Castro regime are vivid and believable and the main character "Usnavy" really does come to life on the pages. But his doomed struggle to keep believing in the revolution and to provide for his family against all odds somehow did not ignite any empathy or much sympathy. It was as if the author was trying just too hard to engage my emotions and thereby came across as preaching at me. But that's just me. Others enjoyed this book a great deal and the startling word-pictures of the street/gutter level life in old Havana makes this a worthwhile read.
Another winner from Obejas. This one gives us an intimate look at Cuba's "Special Period" of the early 90's, a time of tremendous sacrifice, hunger, and yet another mass exodus of Cubans. The protagonist, Usnavy, powerfully controls the perspective (though the voice is 3rd person). My only complaint is that the two primary female characters, Lidia and Nena, are only sketches here, not fully developed, so that when Nena's choices change everything for the protagonist (no spoilers for you), we as a reader don't care as much as we might.
In the hands of another writer, this flaw would be fatal in a novel so slim. But the truth is, Obejas is so good, you forgive her. Read RUINS.
I was curious to read this book because of my Cuban heritage and the fact that Obejas is a local author. Lots of good things in it--great descriptions and characterization, interesting details, the reader could really visualize and feel life in 1994 Cuba--but parts felt rushed, as if too many plotlines were introduced but not given the chance to be fully explored (one example is Usnavy's family background and his ethnicity). The ending left me very unsatisfied as well... I don't require neat and tidy endings, but this one was just too fuzzy and confusing. Overall, I'm glad I read it, but not sure I'd fully recommend.
I really enjoyed this book! I think one of the reasons why I love literature so much is because of the history behind it. History classes can't cover a time in history like a novel can. I was really relieved to have my frustrations released about Usnavy when he finds out that he's not the person he thought he was. To be honest, I like the real Jewish Usnavy better than the I'm-a-Cuban-and-proud Usnavy. Thankfully, after such a turbulant beginning and middle of the story, there is an open ending filled with hope and peace.
This novel makes me want to learn more about Cuba. Ruins is about an "old" man who was once a young revolutionary. Living in Havana in the early 1990s, he conflicted between his persisting belief in the Revolution and the wasteland that Cuba has become and which nearly all of the Cubans in the novel want to escape. The book ended a little too soon for me, with a family mystery which was never quite resolved, but I still really enjoyed it.
Usnavy, the book's main character, leads readers through Cuba as he seeks to understand the changes occurring in 1994 Cuba when Cubans are leaving the country on anything that will float. His fascination/obsession with his stained glass lamp is transferred to other pieces he finds throughout the city. This is a wonderful, lazy day read.
Sounds fascinating! I've always been relatively disconcerted by my ignorance of Cuba, with both its close (and highly negative) relationship to the US and physical proximity. Also am always interested to read of the mistakes of folks who look like me, to continue learning how to be part of the solution instead of the problem.
Amidst the ruins, light shines. The juxtaposition of a weakened post-Revolution Cuba and the role of small treasures found in the ruins, creates a stimulating tale of being lost and found. An enjoyable read. My first for this author.
The novel was filled with vivid imagery and had great moments of magical realism, which are jarring since they're unexpected. I felt it was a good blend of lived experiences and secondhand stories about post-Soviet Cuba weaved into a fictionalized account.
I knew nothing about Cuba prior to this book. A friend whose parents came to the US from Cuba recommended it. I enjoyed the cultural and political aspects of it. It was slow at some points. The political undertone was neither pro-democracy or pro-communism, but somewhere in between.
Superb account of daily life in Cuba during the "Special Period." The main character is so skillfully drawn that I soon regarded him as a member of my family. The novel is realistic and sober yet also funny and endearing. I highly recommend it.