Illegal

March 1, 2014

"I am here and I am a human being," writes author N. With near-poetic language, this undocumented immigrant from Mexico who must maintain anonymity, describes his years-long journey from harrowing border crossing to proud husband, father, and home owner. Humiliation and the possibility of debasement from encounters with authorities, colleagues at work, and in day-to-day living (the mere act of buying a bottle of wine is fraught) dog his every step. His determination to rise above his ninth-grade education--he worked his way up to a master's degree in philosophy--is also problematic: his newfound language skills and love of reading and learning pull him away from the world in which he grew up. Some internal time sequences may be confusing, but N. brings us to the present and the predicament that has left him unemployed. His humility does not keep him from taking some angry jabs at President Obama's failure to act on promises to help illegal immigrants. At one point N. worries about his English-speaking skills, believing that others "lean toward me" because they can't understand him. Perhaps it is not his diction; perhaps others recognize that his is a voice worth listening to. VERDICT Recommended to attorneys, policy-makers, educators, and readers of memoirs of growth in the face of many challenges.--Ellen Gilbert, Princeton, NJ

Copyright 2014 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

January 1, 2014
N. came to the U.S. as a teenager 20 years ago, sneaking across the border and later traveling to Chicago, where he settled with his extended family. During those years, he worked in the shadows in factories, yards, and kitchens until he earned his GED and then bachelor's and master's degrees, which led to a career as a translator. But he never left the shadows. Instead, he was a hybrid creature of darkness and hope, one who can scratch the heights of prosperity but who remains permanently rooted in misfortune. Without legal documentation, he lived in dread of minor traffic stops, fretted over having drinks in a bar, and declined any chance to get on a plane and travel. With great eloquence and pathos, N. draws on his daily life and references philosophers from Socrates to Kant to describe the netherworld of the undocumented. He takes solace in his education and his gift for reflection as he watches the slow and frustrating process of immigration reform. N. gives voice to the millions who, of necessity, live in the shadows.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2014, American Library Association.)