Poetry is not something I would typically read in my spare time, but this option seemed somewhat interesting and relevant at first glance. I don't really identify with border crossers, but I could identify with someone who wants to draw a parallel with the whole experience potentially being a simulation. That sounds vaguely like science fiction. Anyway, I gave this one a shot.
Now having finished this, I have a few thoughts. I guess that might be the point of poetry, to evoke thought where thought otherwise might not emerge. But my first point is to wonder: is this poetry? This is similar to when I wonder whether certain music is "Metal." Nothing rhymed, words broke up mid line for no reason, indentation seemed random, there was no syllable rhythm, and the book even broke out into prose midway through anyway. Did I end up reading a novel in disguise? Perhaps. In retrospect, asking this question did help me finish the book.
The one thing that definitely makes this feel strongly like poetry is the word-play. The author continuously plays with synonyms and homonyms and makes light of how confusing English can be in light of other similar sounding words. I groaned mightily many, many times. It felt pretentious. Is this what poetry does? I do this when inhibited in my own writing and I later want to vomit on re-read. The only saving grace here is the potential presence of a point I began to derive: these border crossers only barely know these words (being Spanish speakers), and so the word-play wants to poke fun at that. The mixing in of pop culture references with this did make me laugh, but only for a brief moment before I wanted to gag again. I hope for the author's sake that point was the intent.
I did appreciate a lot of the consistent imagery here, but I also had to wonder what the plot actually was. I think there were a few twists throughout, but whether Primitivo and Primitiva were actual people or just metaphors stayed kind of nebulous for me. Perhaps that is the point, and there is nothing deeper. However, it really seems like there is something deeper here. If only I felt rewarded with deeper meanings during a paragraph re-read as I usually do with philosophy text.
The double-sided English-Spanish nature of the book was quite surprising, and the level of determination to get it done this way is very respectful. However, I was secretly hoping, even as I ignored the Spanish side of the pages, that when the English text said something in Spanish, that the Spanish side would turn around and say the same thing in English. Alas, it didn't. I certainly didn't focus enough on the right side of the book to brush up on my Spanish, and that is one reason why. It's a missed opportunity. Then again, perhaps Spanish people don't use English words in their dialogue, or the author is intentionally trying to criticize them for that. Who knows.
The most impactful thing I can say about this book is: every time I picked it up and read a few pages, I had to wonder whether the author was drunk or high or if I were too sober. I can't say I enjoyed it, but I do appreciate the effort.