ARC Review: Libertad by Bessie Flores Zaldivar

“God, Dani. There’s a lot of hate out there.”

“Yes,” she says in a gentle voice. “But there’s also a lot of love, and resistance, and community. More good than bad.”

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Notice: thank you to Penguin Teen for sending an advanced reader’s copy of this book through the Penguin Teen Partner Program. This does not affect my opinion.

Content warning: political and domestic violence, homophobia

As the contentious 2017 presidential election looms and protests rage across every corner of the city, life in Tegucigalpa, Honduras churns louder and faster. For her part, high school senior Libertad (Libi) Morazán takes heart in writing political poetry for her anonymous Instagram account and a budding romance with someone new. But things come to a head when Mami sees texts on her phone mentioning a kiss with a girl and Libi discovers her beloved older brother, Maynor, playing a major role in the protests. As Libertad faces the political and social corruption around her, stifling homophobia at home and school, and ramped up threats to her poetry online, she begins dreaming of a future in which she doesn’t have to hide who she is or worry about someone she loves losing their life just for speaking up. Then the ultimate tragedy strikes, and leaving her family and friends—plus the only home she’s ever known—might be her only option.

Here is a queer coming-of-age novel that examines social and political intricacies at a new level. We follow 17-year-old Libertad through her senior year of high school, her 18th birthday, and her very first romantic encounters with…girls. All of these events are sweet and exciting parts of growing up, but unfortunately, they are marred by a backdrop of political violence.

Libertad is set in Honduras, a country in Central America whose history is tainted by colonialism, western imperialism, political violence/instability, and at times, blatant homophobia. Unfortunately for Libertad, all of these facts cast huge shadows over a period in her life that should feel full of promise and hope. The book illustrates what living in Honduras was like during the real-life 2017 presidential election of Juan Orlando Hernández, whose presidency was marked by allegations and a subsequent conviction of conspiring with drug traffickers across Honduras in exchange for monetary bribes.

What I appreciated most about my experience with this title was the opportunity to step outside of the demographics that I am most familiar with in a very accessible way. As an American, I am largely unaware of a lot of the political climate and instability across Central American countries. Therefore, following Libertad through all of the instances of political violence whilst she also navigates her daily life felt like a very tangible way to grasp how a country’s larger political atmosphere also impacts the lives of everyday citizens. It also provided an opportunity to examine another perspective of Western imperialism over smaller nations.

The censorship, the military police violence, the curfews, the electricity blackouts—I felt real anxiety while reading about all of these events from Libertad and her family’s perspective. Their fear and sense of helplessness felt palpable.

“Months ago, Juan Orlando Hernández ordered the military police—the MP—to take to the streets in major cities like Tegus and San Pedro to “mantener el control.” When I still had my phone, I saw videos all over Twitter and Instagram of the MP beating protestors, firing tear gas and rubber bullets.”

“I think of the coup nearly a decade ago now. The way I understand it, one morning the US government decided our democratically elected president wasn’t fit to rule anymore. They drove him out, imposing a military state and right-wing government instead. How can we be independent if another country—bigger, richer, more powerful—can swoop in at any time and upend everything?”

Despite the risks of violence, there is such a notable sense of community throughout this novel that really brings each character to life and allows them to shine individually. I felt the heartwarming moments between Libertad and her older brother Maynor as they got to know each other as people and not just as siblings. I felt Libertad’s sorrow and confusion when her mom found out about her being gay and urged her to hide it at first. I felt her classic moments of annoyance with her younger brother Alberto, and her opposition to the traditional viewpoints of her Abuela. I empathized with each character trying to make sense of very complicated family dynamics, including absent parents and physically abusive ones.

Zaldivar expertly crafted emotions and relationships in this book that felt genuine. All of the characters have flaws. All of the characters have moments that they come to regret. Through the conflicts, Libertad unearths a deep understanding of the power of empathy, forgiveness, and growth in interpersonal relationships. It felt special to watch the character relationships grow and change throughout the novel. Here are a few moments of character connection that I loved:

“”It’s what every mother wants, I think. For life to be a little less hard for our children than it was for us.””

“As the two of us breathe in and out, slowly, I remind myself that this shit is hard. She has her own process to go through. I asked her a question, and she answered me as honestly as she could.”

“I stare into Alberto’s soft, dark eyes, both of us hardly blinking. “I love you so much that sometimes, it feels like if I look at you for too long, I’ll pass out. You know?”
Alberto giggles. “I don’t feel like I’m gonna pass out when I look at you.”
I laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. One day you’ll get it.””

In all, Libertad is an honest depiction of what it’s like to come of age and come to terms with your identity at a time when the world around you feels unsafe. It is raw, honest, and incredibly introspective. It depicts first love and heartache, grief, and the eldest sibling’s guilt of being the first one in your family to leave home. I highly recommend this title for all of its social and political commentary, as well as its exemplary character relationships.