American Dirt – Book Review, May 2025

By Michael Attard

The story is fiction, but the author, Jeanine Cummins, has grippingly brought to the fore one of the greatest social dilemmas, traumas, and moral issues of our time. Thus, it seems unjust to simply classify the book as fiction. Issues integral to the book are economic, political, and social. To simplify matters, it is fair to say the book is contemporary fiction. The time is now, the places are real, but the characters are fictitious.

On page one, at a family barbecue in Acapulco, people are being killed – young, old, everyone. Except for Lydia and her eight-year-old son, Luca, who happen to be in the bathroom. Lydia believes that she knows who has done this. Her husband, a journalist, had just published an article revealing the identity of a cartel leader. Regardless, the only thing to do is to get away from Acapulco. Throughout the book there is suspense, and action, which while expected, suddenly appears from nowhere.

“The story follows Lydia and Luca along their route of their escape to into the USA.”

There are no nuances among the characters. There are the protagonists, and the very bad antagonists. Although the cartel leader, Javier, imagines himself as a victim of fate and unable to change his circumstances: “Lydia will not feel empathy for him.”

The story follows Lydia and Luca along the route of their escape into the USA. Through these two characters and those they meet along the way, the author is actually telling the story of the thousands of real people, who have fled their homes in a desperate attempt to live in peace and dignity. Going to the USA or as migrants call it, “el norte,” is not as simple as buying a bus or plane ticket. The cartel controls the roads, with gunned check points. There is always a fee, and for Lydia and Luca, who are being hunted by the cartel, the danger is even greater. Flying out of Mexico is impossible, as Lydia has no identification for Luca. They are destined to follow the migrants’ route, via freight trains, known as “La Bestia,” the beast. Lydia has no idea as to how they are supposed to do this. “She feels as though she is watching herself in a nightmare. … Her eyes so big with fear they’ve almost left her body. They jump!”

The author never releases the psychological trauma and expresses it succinctly, often through Luca: “His muteness is pronounced.” He knows what has happened to the family. “There is a tug of war in Luca’s heart, between wanting to remember and needing to forget.” They meet two very attractive teenaged sisters, fleeing from violence in their small mountain village. Their beauty is a pox upon them, and the physical violence they endure brings them to the breaking point.

“The author is actually telling the story of thousands of real people, who have fled their homes in a desperate attempt to live in peace and dignity.”

Almost nothing goes well for Lydia. She is recognized by a young man (thanks to social media), who claims that he no longer wants to be a cartel member and that he too is fleeing. But Lydia is justifiably unassured. This Lorenzo, with his sickle tattoo underscored by three drops of ink, signifying blood and three kills, and the way in which he eyes the two sisters is malevolently threatening.

Sometimes there is help along the way. Migrant shelters provide a safe haven for a few days. A doctor stops to offer water and takes them to a hotel for a night where they can rest, feeling slightly safer. But virtually all trust has evaporated. When heavily armed, masked Mexican immigration agents force the train to stop, Lydia knows “they are not here to enforce the law…. The terror compels them to run … she feels like prey.” Being Mexican is of little consolation. Compared to the migrants from central America, her status is only slightly better. There is no discount on what she must pay. Her voter ID card is proof she is a Mexican citizen. “It feels like a rescue boat and a torpedo at once.”

The 400-page book is easy to read. While for the characters it seems to take forever to reach “el norte,” the story is fast paced. Short, realistic dialogue keeps the reader in the midst of the ever- present danger and the debilitating psychological torture. There is little use of simile or metaphor, and description, when used, offers the rare chance to enjoy a calmer moment. The focus is upon escape and staying alive. There is little time for anything else.

The author’s message would not be complete without some commentary on what happens to many of those who actually make it to the USA. This includes those who may have entered legally. These are the “deportados.” Lydia and Luca are surprised that as they reach Tijuana, there are more people going south than north. But many of these deportados will try again. “They fled violence and poverty; gangs more powerful than their governments … reach Estados Unidos or die on the road … because staying at home meant their odds of survival were even worse.”

When Lydia and Luca have gone as far as they can by train, it’s time to entrust themselves to and pay the “coyote,” the human smuggler. He is reluctant to take them because of Luca’s age. He tells them, “There will be two and a half nights of arduous hiking.” They are hot, they are cold when it rains, they hide in fear from vigilantes. “Every one of them despairs.”

Photo Credit: Michael Attard’s Copy of American Dirt.