Book review
Cuban artists are known for their authenticity. They can gently ask for your heart only to break it into pieces, but they do it so beautifully that you will go back asking for even more pain. Cuba can absorb you in ways I haven’t experienced before.
Writers are especially skilled at locking emotions into the moment. They do it with the simplest tool which is describing reality as they see it. There are no exaggerated adjectives and impressive sentence structures designed to give the reader a preconceived feeling. They seem to communicate their experiences and thoughts with ease, while it is clear how much human and professional struggle lies behind the written word.
The author
Carlos Manuel Álvarez was born in 1989 in Matanzas, Cuba, and studied journalism at the University of Havana – says a brief introduction of his early life on Wikipedia. Thankfully, his books are more telling. His writings give an insight into his upbringing, his view of his home country, and his rebellion against Castroism.
He participated in the San Isidro Movement, formed in 2018 by Cuban academics, artists, and journalists as a protest against the government’s increased censorship of self-expression, greatly restricting the work of artists of all kinds. Decree 349, a Cuban law introduced in 2018, obliges artists to obtain authorisation for all artistic activities. The Decree meant that the government could shut down book fares, performances, and exhibitions if the content was deemed anti-revolutionary or in any way forbidden, and artists could not sell works of art without government approval. There was no lack of retaliation for protests.
Despite, or rather as a result of, a highly restrictive environment, Álvarez has become one of the best writers in Latin America. Journalistic and opinion pieces for the BBC, Al Jazeera, and the New York Times, short stories, and four books mark his career to date.
The book
The Tribe: Portraits of Cuba is the fourth book by Álvarez but only his second novel translated into English and published by Fitzcarraldo Editions in 2021. His first novel, The Fallen, portrays an ordinary Cuban family, and through their life, we also learn about society. The Tribe does the same, which is to present Cuban society today. This time, however, Álvarez shares 19 short stories, each focusing on either a single person or a particular problem that people in post-Castro Cuba are struggling with.
It’s a powerful portrayal of the daily battles everyone in Cuba has to fight to survive. From internationally renowned artists to mothers who lost their children when an unsupported balcony collapsed in a life-threatening building in Old Havana, all of them, regardless of their status, have to navigate a system built on oppression. The petty theft that is a fundamental part of the social fabric of post-Soviet countries is brilliantly portrayed by Fidel, who is the butcher of one of the country’s largest municipalities, Cárdenas.
While the author’s position on the system is crystal clear, Álvarez does not seek the reader’s sympathy by blaming and cursing those he thinks are responsible for the current state of the country. He describes the lives and experiences of his interviewees objectively, employing the crónica form, a widely used and flexible literary genre in Spanish Latin America. He combines his journalistic experiences with novelistic storytelling to guide the reader through the maze of Cuban diplomatic relations and revolutionary ideology. This is no small task.
In addition to the wealth of invaluable information that is effortlessly squeezed into the book, the reader is given the opportunity to do a little research on the main characters if curiosity requires it. Many of them are well-known artists and sportsmen who live in exile in various parts of the world, fighting tirelessly for a liveable country. For a country where they are free to return without fear of being interrogated or arrested on arrival.
The translation
As both a translator and a reader, I appreciate a brilliant literary translation, knowing that it can be decisive for the success of a book and the author’s reputation in the wider world.
Anyone who reads non-European writers is used to certain words or phrases remaining in the text in the author’s mother tongue. To ensure authenticity, it is often unavoidable. In other cases, however, it is up to the translator to decide whether to translate this or that sentence in its entirety. In the case of The Tribe, I didn’t feel it justified that so many Spanish words, expressions, and even slogans were left in the text without explanation. Searching in a dictionary unnecessarily breaks the flow of reading. Besides, Cuban Spanish is a beautiful and unique blend of European Spanish and remnants of a few African languages. You are not guaranteed to find the meaning of every word in a standard Spanish dictionary.
Most annoying, however, was the presence of typos, most of them in the first part of the book, and the repetition of words either the translator or the editor left in the text.
Overall, the translation is great. Nothing less is expected from an established literary translator like Frank Wynne. Still, these small problems affect the reading and the final impression we get from the book, although they could probably have been avoided with another round of proofreading.
Why should you read the book?
The Cuba that we most often hear and read about is a very different country from the one described in the book. This is understandable, as travel agents, tour operators, and travel writers are always focused on how to sell the country. Any country. What we see in magazines never shows the whole picture.
Part of the touristy image of Cuba are the vintage cars, the people in colourful clothes, smoking cigars, and the musicians who entertain visitors day and night. This idyllic picture has been somewhat damaged in recent weeks when we have read more about the situation in Cuba than at any time in years.
The complete shutdown of the country due to nationwide blackouts, followed by two hurricanes and an earthquake, gave journalists enough material to put their thoughts into words. Unfortunately, apart from a few personal accounts, like those from Ruaridh Nicoll, the mainstream media repeated the same facts without delving deeper into how the state allowed people to go without electricity, food, and water for days.
The Tribe is an essential work for anyone who wants to look behind the scenes and get a glimpse of reality. It’s such a rich and informative book that if you only want to read one book before your next trip to Cuba, this should be it.
The Tribe doesn’t deny the sunny image of Cuba that comes to mind when we dream of our next holiday. The beauty of nature, the captivating music, the entrepreneurial spirit and the diversity and endless creativity of its people also belong to the country, but romanticising an entire nation may do more harm than we realise.