Afterlife by Julia Alvarez

Can there be anything worse than waiting for a loved one who never arrives? Getting that phone call? An accident. A sudden illness. A stroke? A heart attack? The prologue to "Afterlife," the much anticipated new novel from author, professor, and activist Julia Alvarez acts like a gut punch. Antonia, just retired

from her teaching job at a well-known Vermont college (much like Alvarez herself) is waiting in a favorite restaurant for a celebratory meal with her husband Sam, a meal that will not happen.

Nine months later Antonia is struggling. Her three sisters who are scattered around the country are each responsible for touching base with her on a certain day. Old friends include her in their dinner parties which she finds interminable. Others walk on eggshells when in her presence. All Antonia wants is be alone with her memories but we sense that life won't allow that happen.

Two disparate storylines unfold, the first centers around the so-called sisterhood, the often tense but always close relationship that Antonia has with her siblings. Informed by their Dominican upbringing, these women have strong views on how each other should live their lives and right now they need to stage an intervention with Izzy, the erratic one, who may suffer from bi-polar syndrome. But Antonia has to protect her own fragile well-being, lean into the grieving process, and keep a distance from her family's drama.

 Then a very different and more compelling section of the novel arises in the form of Mario, a young Mexican man sent from her well-meaning neighbor to help clear the gutters, a job Sam always handled. Antonia hesitates - is Mario even here legally? Sam, always sitting on her shoulder, would have said go ahead, don't worry, step out of your comfort zone. And so Antonia does, and before long Mario is confiding in her like a mother and somehow Antonia is saying yes, she'll foot the bill for Mario's girlfriend and pay the coyote to bring her to the states and then to Vermont.

Alvarez is disarmingly honest in her writing. She sensitively portrays a woman who, though proud of her Dominican heritage, does not want to be taken advantage of for it. She feels the tug of resentment at feeling suddenly responsible for these other lives, Mario, and now a pregnant Estella, when she isn't even sure where her own life is going. And anger! Oh yes, she's mad at Sam. How could he leave her in this predicament?

There's a lot going on in this relatively short novel. Alvarez has previously examined sibling relationships that resemble her own family, specifically in  "How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accent," and "In the Time of the Butterflies," but in her new book I found the sisters' story jarring when compared to the timely and complicated subject of legal and illegal immigration, anchor babies, and what, if anything, we owe to these new, hardworking young people who arrive on our shores seeking a better life. 

The book comes out in April and is receiving glowing praise from all quarters. I admit that I'm still mulling it over weeks after having finished it. I would love to hear from Alvarez fans and those who may be new to her work. "Afterlife" will be a great choice for book groups everywhere when and if we begin meeting again in person. Stay well everyone!