Everyone Knows You Go Home by Natalia Sylvester

They were married on the Day of the Dead, el Día de los Muertos, which no one gave much thought to in all the months of planning, until the bride’s deceased father-in-law showed up in the car following the ceremony. - Natalia Sylvester, Everyone Knows You Go Home

This is probably one of my favourite first lines ever. The author’s nondescript tone when talking about a supernatural phenomenon instantly captures my attention. It is an immaculate mix of magical realism, mystery, and contemporary fiction. Despite its supernatural premise, Everyone Knows You Go Home by Natalia Sylvester is a painfully authentic tale of immigration, sacrifices, and family secrets. This novel follows two timelines - a 1980s narrative about a couple (Omar and Elda) crossing the border, and a present narrative revolving around the lives of their children and how they carry on with their parents’ legacies. This particular narrative technique works really well as the author gradually unfurls the story and maintain a steady pace for the whole book. Notwithstanding the time gap between the two narratives, the narratives blend in beautifully and harmoniously with seamless transitions between chapters.

Besides the focal conversation about immigration, this novel is also a captivating conversation regarding parenthood and the ambiguity of memories. Does what we remember really reflect the truth? How deceptive are our memories?

All Omar and Elda seemed to worry about was how to build a life for their children. Every effort, every decision, revolved around protecting them from grief, exchanging it for moments of happiness. He had forgotten that each time he embraced Claudita or made a face to get her laugh was a moment he couldn’t guarantee she would remember. Would her memory start today, surrounded by nothing but smiles? Or would she hold on to him at his worst, with his “not nows” at the end of a long day, the attention he gave in scattered fragments? - Natalia Sylvester, Everyone Knows You Go Home

This excerpt reminds me of the final chapters of The End of Loneliness by Benedict Wells. These two books, to some extent, share the same notion that parenthood is like sowing a seed. You put a lot of effort and dedication into nurturing it, but you have to accept that you can never predict or guarantee any results. That’s the fear, and also the beauty of being a parent.

The book ends with a bitter-sweet denouncement, which I truly appreciate. It’s easy to tie up everything neatly and beautifully with a red bow, to create a fantasy wherein happy endings are ubiquitous and guaranteed, but that is not life. Life is messy, uncertain, and complicated. Through the story of the Bravo family, Natalia Sylvester shed light on the atrocities, dangers, and sacrifices that migrants are confronted with. Not only is this novel a testament to the struggles and hardships, but it is also a panacea to human’s perseverance and resilience.