Hardcover, 400 pages
Published Sept. 5, 2022 by Hogarth.
A child migrant story from 1999, fearfully relevant, and set in a prelude to the worst cartel and DHS aspects of today. The youthful perspective keeps much of the terror hidden, and so we experience the physical toll and chaotic uncertainty in its raw immediacy with the humanity of coyotes and older companions cast in complicated and appreciable light.
My immediate thoughts on finishing reading this intense memoir were, selfishly, relief at my own privilege meaning I am unlikely to ever have to undertake such an arduous journey myself, and also a deep sadness on realising how desperate Javier's parents must have been in order to commit their nine year old child to coyotes' promises and the care of strangers for an epic trek that they had already undertaken themselves. They knew how tough it would be even if nothing went wrong.
Javier's story is incredibly evocatively told so I felt as though I were travelling alongside him into the unknown for thousands of miles. His child's perspective gives such a poignant atmosphere to the book, especially when the things he worries most about are being unable to tie his shoelaces properly, or about being perceived as a little kid if he doesn't appear as stalwart as the adults …
My immediate thoughts on finishing reading this intense memoir were, selfishly, relief at my own privilege meaning I am unlikely to ever have to undertake such an arduous journey myself, and also a deep sadness on realising how desperate Javier's parents must have been in order to commit their nine year old child to coyotes' promises and the care of strangers for an epic trek that they had already undertaken themselves. They knew how tough it would be even if nothing went wrong.
Javier's story is incredibly evocatively told so I felt as though I were travelling alongside him into the unknown for thousands of miles. His child's perspective gives such a poignant atmosphere to the book, especially when the things he worries most about are being unable to tie his shoelaces properly, or about being perceived as a little kid if he doesn't appear as stalwart as the adults around him. Zamora brings every mile, and all his fellow travellers, vividly to life so Solito is an ideal read for anyone wanting to fully understand the emigrant experience in the Americas. As an adult, Zamora has a poet's soul and this comes across so well in his beautiful prose. I loved the inclusion of Spanish phrases too. Nothing too difficult and often translated or paraphrased in the English text, and this gave me a sense of how Spanish phrases and references change through the different Central American countries. Young Javier doesn't only have to cope with the physicality of his journey but also, and perhaps more importantly, it is essential that the travellers not stand out too obviously from local people. Even something as usually inconsequential for a traveller as his not knowing the local word for a drinking straw could get the whole group arrested - and nearly does. It's one of a number of seemingly mundane, yet incredibly tense moments that make up Solito.
Solito is one of the most impressive and valuable memoirs I have read this year. I can only begin to imagine how traumatic it must have been for Zamora to revisit those seven weeks, so many years after the fact, but I am so grateful that he did so and that I had this opportunity to read the result.
