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A review by criticalgayze
Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo
challenging
emotional
hopeful
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
I am a huge fan of Acevedo's National Book Award-winning debut, The Poet X, so I was thrilled to get to read this as one of my grad school book discussion selections. Acevedo remains at the top of her craft as both poet and storyteller in her third effort, and I need to make time for her sophomore effort, With the Fire on High.
What I love most about Acevedo is that, like with Aiden Thomas's Cemetery Boys, she makes time to celebrate so much of the culture and peoples that she loves. There are so many different facets of Latinx and immigrant heritage here, and she also makes sure to also have Queer rep in a way that feels authentic and cared for.
Acevedo is also a phenomenal poet, and, like Jason Reynolds, is able to sustain the individuality and emotional tone of the pieces while still crafting a compelling novel with them. I do think there is a little bit at the end that becomes a little more narrative than the rest where I think the format loses its function, but it is brief and comes at an understandable point in the novel. Once I realized what was happening, I found the structural difference between the two sister's poetry, and I'd love to find an article or interview where Acevedo discusses the choice a little more.
Finally, I appreciate that, unlike most novel-in-verse (including The Poet X), Acevedo does not feel the need here to give a reason (like, "I'm doing this for a school project.") to explain why the story is told this way. There is form without making excuses for function.
(I listened to this one while following along in the text - thanks to Libby for allowing this to be an easy, available, and free option - and I found both Acevedo and Melania-Luisa Marte to be wonderful narrators.)
Quotes:
But it might be a sinkhole/trying to feast quicksand/mouth pried open; I hunger for stable ground,/ somewhere else. (Page 2)
I've always loved that phrase for birthing:/dando a luz giving to light./I was my mother's gift to the sun of her life. (Page 13)
He must have realized/his laugh was like one of those paper shredders/making a sad confetti of my hopes. (Page 15)
How could I have known then/there are no rules, no expectations, no rising to the occasion./When you learn news like this, there is only/ falling. (Page 22)
They can't dance bachata or sing Juan Luis Guerra,/can't recite Solomé Ureña or even name the forefathers;/ they wrap their flag around their shoulders like a safety blanket,/& if a heart has topography,/I know none of these boys know the coordinates/to navigate and survive mine's tough terrain. (Page 44)
& if the game taught me one thing,/it's once you lift a pawn off the board,/you have to move it forward. (Page 55)
There is an artist my mother loved,/Juan Gabriel, who was once asked/in an interview if he was gay./His reply: What's understood need not be said. (Page 75)
Fight until you can't breathe, & if you have to forfeit,/forfeit smiling, make them think you let them win. (Page 86)
Can you be from a place/you have never been?/You can find the island stamped all over me,/but what would the island find if I was there?/Can you claim a home that does not know you,/much less claim you as its own? (Page 97)
I am from a playground place. (Page 159)
As if she couldn't believe this of Papi./But me, I know a man can have many faces & speak out of/both sides of his mouth; I know a man can make decisions/based on the flip of a coin;/a man can be real good at long division,/give away piece after piece after piece of himself. (Page 266)
She doesn't look like an American-apple-pie mother./She looks like a tres golpes of a mother. (Page 279)
What I love most about Acevedo is that, like with Aiden Thomas's Cemetery Boys, she makes time to celebrate so much of the culture and peoples that she loves. There are so many different facets of Latinx and immigrant heritage here, and she also makes sure to also have Queer rep in a way that feels authentic and cared for.
Acevedo is also a phenomenal poet, and, like Jason Reynolds, is able to sustain the individuality and emotional tone of the pieces while still crafting a compelling novel with them. I do think there is a little bit at the end that becomes a little more narrative than the rest where I think the format loses its function, but it is brief and comes at an understandable point in the novel. Once I realized what was happening, I found the structural difference between the two sister's poetry, and I'd love to find an article or interview where Acevedo discusses the choice a little more.
Finally, I appreciate that, unlike most novel-in-verse (including The Poet X), Acevedo does not feel the need here to give a reason (like, "I'm doing this for a school project.") to explain why the story is told this way. There is form without making excuses for function.
(I listened to this one while following along in the text - thanks to Libby for allowing this to be an easy, available, and free option - and I found both Acevedo and Melania-Luisa Marte to be wonderful narrators.)
Quotes:
But it might be a sinkhole/trying to feast quicksand/mouth pried open; I hunger for stable ground,/ somewhere else. (Page 2)
I've always loved that phrase for birthing:/dando a luz giving to light./I was my mother's gift to the sun of her life. (Page 13)
He must have realized/his laugh was like one of those paper shredders/making a sad confetti of my hopes. (Page 15)
How could I have known then/there are no rules, no expectations, no rising to the occasion./When you learn news like this, there is only/ falling. (Page 22)
They can't dance bachata or sing Juan Luis Guerra,/can't recite Solomé Ureña or even name the forefathers;/ they wrap their flag around their shoulders like a safety blanket,/& if a heart has topography,/I know none of these boys know the coordinates/to navigate and survive mine's tough terrain. (Page 44)
& if the game taught me one thing,/it's once you lift a pawn off the board,/you have to move it forward. (Page 55)
There is an artist my mother loved,/Juan Gabriel, who was once asked/in an interview if he was gay./His reply: What's understood need not be said. (Page 75)
Fight until you can't breathe, & if you have to forfeit,/forfeit smiling, make them think you let them win. (Page 86)
Can you be from a place/you have never been?/You can find the island stamped all over me,/but what would the island find if I was there?/Can you claim a home that does not know you,/much less claim you as its own? (Page 97)
I am from a playground place. (Page 159)
As if she couldn't believe this of Papi./But me, I know a man can have many faces & speak out of/both sides of his mouth; I know a man can make decisions/based on the flip of a coin;/a man can be real good at long division,/give away piece after piece after piece of himself. (Page 266)
She doesn't look like an American-apple-pie mother./She looks like a tres golpes of a mother. (Page 279)
Content Warnings
Graphic: Car accident, Death of parent, Sexual assault, Stalking, and Sexual violence
Moderate: Cursing, Death, Medical content, Physical abuse, and Trafficking
Minor: Cancer