A Fabricated Mexican

Rating:
Summary: A Fabricated Mexican... is Fascinating
Review: I must confess at the outset that this review may be somewhat biased: author Rick Rivera and I are coffee buddies, colleagues, and collaborators, and his mentoring and writing have inspired and touched me. However, my admiration is based on my discovery and appreciation of his first book, A Fabricated Mexican.

In the high schools and community college classrooms I have roamed, I have cajoled thousands of students into reading books I chose or assigned under duress. Some enjoyed the books; others later bragged that they'd merely read Cliff Notes. Rarely did I see the kinds of responses that students had to A Fabricated Mexican, Rivera's story of Ricky Coronado's journey from being conceived in a plum orchard (the house was crowded, and "you know how mens are," as Ricky's mother, "illiterate in two languages," sighs) to embracing his bicultural heritage and reconciling the deep chasms within himself. Does he ride off into the sunset triumphantly? Yes and no.

The complexity, poignancy, humor, and emotional draw of the book lead to the responses I've witnessed from my college students. I have seen them leaning against the walls of Founders Hall doubled over with laughter as they hold the open book in their hands. They confess in journal responses that this is the first book they have ever read fully and with which they have interacted and identified so completely. They bring their copies for Rick's autograph, and when he speaks about writing and this novel, specifically, to my classes, students are enrapt and ask deep, reflective questions. They are indignant for every slight and hurt that Ricky Coronado endured, and they are humbled by the vulnerability he offers so willingly and frankly: his relationship with his mother, his father's suicide, his depression, and his battles with the self-medication of alcohol, drugs, food, and self-protective alienation and aloofness. These are students of all ages and ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds.

It seems as if Ricky Coronado touches everyone who shares his life as he struggles to accept a new stepfather, atempts to bond with siblings many years older than he is, ponders the mysteries of life's creation through observing his dog and seeking an explanation from his science teacher, tries out unsuccessfully for baseball many times though he'd rather be reading a book (something only lazy people do, according to his mother), outwits his brother, Nacho, through his entrepreneurial use of fast food, floats down a river on an inner tube with Nacho, whose lack of navigational skills lead to a police search, heals his battered soul at Lake Tahoe with the help of a kind sister, Monica, and her husband, a local baseball star, proves the nay-sayers wrong when they tell him he just isn't "college material," and finds some peace as an adult, although it is often elusive and temporary. A storm, or at least a drizzle, often follows any sunset into which he rides before the sun creeps out again.

And this is perhaps the strength of the book: Ricky Coronado's self-doubts, anxiety, and depression are countered by his optimism, a sorely tested faith in himself, and a strong will. Cherish this book and the character who will not leave you the same as you were before you knew him, Ricky Coronado.