One of the strangest phenomena within the literary community is Oprah’s Book Club’s ability to breed drama and expose the problems within it. Jeanine Cummin’s book “American Dirt” was most recently announced as part of the book club, but what followed was the opposite of celebration.

“American Dirt” follows a young Mexican immigrant and her child as they make America their home to avoid the drug cartels after them in Mexico. It seems rather timely, but the author’s behavior has grown problematic, and the content of the book doesn’t sound that great either. Before I begin, I must give a disclaimer: I have not read “American Dirt” in full, I have only read the synopsis, other authors’ reactions, and snippets of chapters when I can find them.

The first round of controversy surrounding Jeanine Cummins and her novel stems from race and privilege. Cummins’ grandmother is from Puerto Rico, and she used to identify as Latina. Around four to five years ago, the author claimed she identifies as white. Within the past few months leading up to the book’s release, Cummins had rebranded herself and again identifies as Latina. While growth takes time and is important to acknowledge and allow to happen, many in the literary world were suspicious that this had all happened so quickly with the process of “American Dirt” being published. 

This raised questions of her utilizing privilege and then rebranding herself so that the content of her book wasn’t criticized as a white woman writing the story and from the perspective of a Mexican woman. It still was, and many were quick to call her out on writing a novel that shouldn’t be hers to tell, while also noting that people aren’t that quick to give large advances for books to people of color writing as a white person or from the point of view of one. Cummins received a giant advance for this book, which tends to be pretty difficult unless you’re a well-known author.

 It’s not just the relation of writing and race that is problematic within the scope of “American Dirt,” but also the behavior of Cummins throughout the ordeal. She’s mostly ignored the criticism and celebrated in poor fashion for the book’s release. On Twitter, she posted pictures from the celebratory dinner she had amongst friends and family for the book’s release and Oprah Book Club announcement. The problem? Her centerpieces featured long wrapped strands of barbed wire, mirroring the cover of her book. She also showed off a new set of nails featuring the same images. Reality is, people at borders are dying. Oppression isn’t an aesthetic. Her inability to recognize this and the general lack of empathy despite having researched the border for five years is what strikes me as the epitome of privilege and gives me the greatest concern within the drama.

Coupled with these actions, it is one thing to write from another person’s point of view, but another to write from another person’s perspective poorly. Many Mexican authors soon rushed to social media, such as Raya who stated the book is a “harmful, stereotypical, damaging representation of our experiences.” The content seems to generalize, make assumptions, and cling to the taboos, the clichés and the stereotypes we see about Mexico and people from Mexico in media, especially within the Trump Era. With the whole plot propelled by associating Latinx people with violence and drug cartels, and the main character having the privilege of wealth with her even within America, the novel appears to give a very narrow and, in most circumstances, unrealistic glimpse into what people of color face on a daily basis. 

This glorification is churned into trauma porn, which makes me fearful for other ignorant individuals to generalize everyone’s experiences as similar, when they’re not. Not everyone has mommy and daddy’s money to take out of an ATM after safely getting across the border. Not every family makes it safely across the border. And despite claiming to have been researching the topic for years, “American Dirt” seems to heavily falter in its accuracy. The main character describes seeing an ice rink, and its concept being completely unknown to her. Another critic who spoke with NPR about the book, Myriam Gurba, found situations within the novel like this ironic, citing how there were ice rinks in Mexico. These inconsistencies seem to be fairly common in the book, and many critics are questioning why, if she is writing from a perspective that may not be hers to tell in the first place, is the topic not even well researched or well fact checked?

Though she made a few excuses at the beginning of the onslaught of the criticism, Cummins now has seemed to be at peace with the backlash. She recognizes that not everyone has to like her book and that there is real trauma from crossing the border and being an immigrant (both true). Her publishing company has cancelled several dates on her book tour following the online discussion and criticism, and ones that have already occurred have been filled with people questioning her validity and ability to have written the novel on such a topic. While “American Dirt” may have caused a good amount of outrage, it did spark discussion, and discussion on something that is needed to be talked about and brought to light. What does it mean for writers in the future? Who knows— a lot is at play: writer’s narration, research, expectations when writing about timely events and privilege vs. experience. It’s also interesting to see how many well-known authors raved about the book, people like Stephen King and Sandra Cisneros’ compliments filling the back jacket of the book. As much as I want to condemn the book, the discussion it’s producing has merit and can breed new expectations for the literary world and holding people accountable.