Ordinary Girls

June 24, 2019
Díaz’s strong debut memoir charts her poor, violent childhood in Puerto Rico and Miami and her bumpy transition from girlhood to womanhood. The book opens in 1985 in Puerto Rico, where Díaz’s father, Papi, was a drug dealer and her mother, Mami, was an erratic personality who’d soon be in the grips of schizophrenia. Within a few years the family moved to Miami Beach, in pursuit of better opportunities. Díaz recalls that her parents were constantly fighting and uprooting her and her two siblings: “every new apartment would be smaller than the last.” She writes about being a juvenile delinquent and “a closeted queer girl in a homophobic place,” taking drugs, running away, getting married at 17, and being sexually assaulted. Her most gripping stories concern the women in her life: her angry maternal grandmother, who mocked her appearance; her paternal grandmother, who brought her joy and relief; and her mother, a “shattered creature” whom she watched descend into mental illness and addiction. A turning point for Díaz comes toward the end of the book, when Díaz details how enlisting in the Navy at 18 gave her the stability she needed. Díaz’s empowering book wonderfully portrays the female struggle and the patterns of family dysfunction.

A gripping, gorgeous story from start to finish is brought to life by narrator Almarie Guerra. Like author Jaquira D�az, Guerra was born in Puerto Rico and is bilingual. In a smooth, engaging voice that isn't overly theatrical, she brings a balance of spirit and restraint to her delivery of D�az's electric memoir. The listener follows D�az from her childhood in the projects in Puerto Rico to her adolescence in Miami Beach and observes her, by turns, loving but fraught relationships with her family members and friends, her time in juvenile detention, her stint in the Navy, and her political awakening. D�az's mother, eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia, is a force who deeply influences the narrative. The author writes lyrical prose, and while it's slightly disappointing that she doesn't read it herself, Guerra deftly navigates both its high drama and quieter moments. S.N. � AudioFile 2019, Portland, Maine