Book Review: Loving Che by Ana Menendez

Let me state right up front that I’m not a romantic person; I don’t like love stories, and I tend to avoid any books or films that might contain too much “mushy stuff.” And if a book has the word love in the title, you can bet I’ll usually be avoiding it like the bird flu (more later about bird flu). But this book, which had the word love in the title, also had my name (yes, Che is my real name) on it.

I enjoy seeing my name on the covers of books, and though I’d prefer to see it listed as author, I’ll happily settle for showing up in the title once in a while. Sure, yeah, I know. Any book with my name in the title isn’t about me, it's about that other Che; you know which one I'm talking about. One day perhaps I will be as famous as he, though likely not for the same things.

So, because my name was in the title, and because I figured you can’t get much weirder than a love story about Che Guevera, I grabbed this book from my local library shelf, brought it home, and read it in one sitting. Thankfully, it turned out to be much more than just a romance.

Loving Che, by Ana Menendez, is the story of a young woman raised by her grandfather in Miami, having been brought by him to the US from Havana in the 1960s. She never knew her mother, Teresa, who remained behind. After her grandfather’s death, the nameless main character goes to Cuba in search of her mother. On the verge of giving up, she receives a parcel in the mail. Inside are letters from her mother, detailing Teresa’s life in Cuba, her marriage to a kind academic, her work as an artist, and her forbidden but passionate love affair with Che Guevera. Our main character’s interest in her mother is rekindled, and she again returns to Havana, seeking not only her mother, but the truth about Che, the man who may be her father.

The first and last parts of the book are told from the point of view of the nameless main character, whereas the middle is told in short chapters that represent the letters of Teresa. These chapters are snippets of memory, in no particular order, snapshots of places, people and moments in the life of a woman who has nothing left but her memories. These chapters are especially beautifully written, poignant and poetic, and they are frequently punctuated by photographs of Che.

In Loving Che, character development is often sacrificed for the sake of atmosphere, yet through the snapshot chapters of Teresa’s life, we are given the occasional glimpse of character, which over the course of the novel add up to a fuller, rich picture.

Ms. Menendez tells her story in finely crafted, bare-bones prose. She conveys images in such vivid and glorious detail that I often felt the pictures included in the book were superfluous (yet interesting to look at, nonetheless).

The story unfolds slowly and tenderly, this strange love affair that seems almost like a jewel shining from the bloody mud of revolution. Toward the end, the story seemed to meander overmuch, and I found myself growing impatient, though never bored. But the shift from short, rapid-fire chapters to a lengthier narrative required a shift in reading style that my brain was unwilling to make that late at night.

Extra points go to Loving Che for causing me to have an erotic dream. About him, no less. There we were, me and the comrade, getting all hot and naked in my bedroom, when in walks a man with buckets and brushes and ladder, ready to paint. Just as the man begins slopping paint all over the walls in a haphazard fashion, a bird flies in the window. Che feels the bird is spoiling the romantic mood (and the painter isn’t?). The painter is worried the bird might ruin his paint-job. And me, well I’m worried about the bird flu (told ya there’d be more about the bird flu).

If you like Che, you’ll like this book. If you like an unusual romance, you’ll like this book. If you like both, you’re in for a real treat. But as stated before, Loving Che is about more than romance. It's about love, not just between man and woman but between mother and daughter. And it's also a book about history, and remembrance, about the memories that live in photographs and in loving hearts and minds, and about the gifts that flow down the course of generations.

Article Author: Che

Mild mannered cartomancer by day, grouchy and reclusive artist and writer by night. Friendly neighborhood voodou-gnostic on good days, wild-eyed tattooed hillbilly witch/bitch on bad days; be-furred, femur-chewing, hell-broth addicted were-thingy on weird days. …

Visit Che's author page — Che's Blog