The eternal forest A memoir of the Cuban diaspora

Sheppard's first book is a heartfelt historical memoir that beautifully interweaves the experiences of her Cuban forebears, particularly the women who played caregiver. The book skillfully delves into the complex generational and cultural dynamics shaped by Cuba's rich history before Castro. Sheppard, a first-generation American born in 1987, explores how family stories, even when convoluted by retellings, can help piece together the missing parts of one's ancestry. Family secrets surface as new information emerges from the author's trips to Cuba with her mother, her conversations with the family matriarch, and digging into her grandfather's "box of stories." This historical memoir does not shy away from difficult truths, such as a daughter who is no longer around, the misfortune that has tormented Sheppard's family, and the impact of Castro's rule on those who stayed behind. The book skillfully blends Cuban history with deeply personal accounts from Sheppard's family, illustrating the profound impact of exile and the enduring connection to Cuban heritage across generations. VERDICT A must-read that explores the complexities of assimilation, the strength found in the connection to Cuba, and the longing for a forbidden home.--Jocelyn Castillo

Documenting a family's complex relationship with Cuba. Cuban American writer Sheppard describes herself, her mother, and her grandmother as a set of "Russian nesting dolls, sized by generation." By this, she means that their histories are both vastly different and intensely intertwined. Sheppard's grandmother, Rosita, grew up in Cuba. Although Rosita traces her heritage to Spain, by the time she was born her family had lived in Cuba for multiple generations. Rosita's daughter, Margarita, is Sheppard's mother. Rosita brought Margarita to the United States when Margarita was 8 years old and Margarita's older sister was 15. The family fled because the new government considered their father, Rosita's husband, Gustavo, "asympathizer, anti-Castro, antirevolution, a threat." Because Sheppard was born in the United States, she developed a complex relationship with her homeland that is equal parts curiosity and guilt. Similarly, her mother, Margarita, feels like she is "Ni de aquí, ni de allá / Neither from here, nor from there," because her relationships with her birth and adopted countries are equally tenuous. Rosita, on the other hand, harbors a deep nostalgia for her homeland, which, Sheppard believes, she never intended to leave for good. To better understand the positionality of her mother, her grandmother, and herself, Sheppard excavates her family history, contextualizing the memories she uncovers within the island's political history, which, in many ways, is Fidel Castro's personal history. Sheppard's narrative voice is both conversational and lyrical, and her love and curiosity for her family leaps off the page. While the book at times feels more descriptive than introspective, this is a fascinating read. A Cuban American writer's absorbing account of exile. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.