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A review by cindypepper
Lost Children Archive by Valeria Luiselli
3.0
Hmm -- I wanted to enjoy this, especially reading the reviews and premise. I also can't find it within me to resist a road trip novel.
Having just read it, I'm not sure the form factor works. I enjoyed reading it, but I was beginning to tap out near the middle of the book. The structure of two narrations plus bits-and-bobs of the mother's documentation felt too intricate and mazy. There's a storyline about the slow decline of a marriage and the separation of a family. There is the backdrop story of undocumented migrant children. We never know who the children or the migrants or the parents are; they are referred to by their pronouns because displacement and migration aren't rooted toward specific people. As standalone stories, these different plots hold up, but together, there's a lack of cohesion as the elegies, the mother's story, and the son's adventure blur together.
Sometimes this works, as it creates a mythical but relative quality to the migrant children's story, like an oral tradition passed from one generation of family to another. Othertimes, it creates a separation between the reader the children, in that it's difficult to humanize them the way Luiselli intends.
The good: the prose is beautiful, in a languid way that sprawls across the pages like a daydream that materializes when you close your eyes for a second longer. Even as the narration switches from the mother to her son to the stories she has collected, Luiselli's words are so rooted in their lyricism, that I almost wanted to listen to this via audiobook. I never listen to audiobooks.
I didn't have an issue with the meta nature of a novel about a documentarian documenting their story, but the multiple POVs and the intertextual way the elegies bleed into the book made it feel like I was reading multiple novels that had been loosely stitched together as one. I don't think the execution landed with me, but damn if it isn't nice to read.
Having just read it, I'm not sure the form factor works. I enjoyed reading it, but I was beginning to tap out near the middle of the book. The structure of two narrations plus bits-and-bobs of the mother's documentation felt too intricate and mazy. There's a storyline about the slow decline of a marriage and the separation of a family. There is the backdrop story of undocumented migrant children. We never know who the children or the migrants or the parents are; they are referred to by their pronouns because displacement and migration aren't rooted toward specific people. As standalone stories, these different plots hold up, but together, there's a lack of cohesion as the elegies, the mother's story, and the son's adventure blur together.
Sometimes this works, as it creates a mythical but relative quality to the migrant children's story, like an oral tradition passed from one generation of family to another. Othertimes, it creates a separation between the reader the children, in that it's difficult to humanize them the way Luiselli intends.
The good: the prose is beautiful, in a languid way that sprawls across the pages like a daydream that materializes when you close your eyes for a second longer. Even as the narration switches from the mother to her son to the stories she has collected, Luiselli's words are so rooted in their lyricism, that I almost wanted to listen to this via audiobook. I never listen to audiobooks.
I didn't have an issue with the meta nature of a novel about a documentarian documenting their story, but the multiple POVs and the intertextual way the elegies bleed into the book made it feel like I was reading multiple novels that had been loosely stitched together as one. I don't think the execution landed with me, but damn if it isn't nice to read.