By Cayla Bartosz
As a novel, Bessie Flores Zaldivar’s resonant Libertad exemplifies the endlessly intertwined nature of personhood and politics more poignantly than any I’ve read in recent memory. Set in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, the crux of the story’s conflict centers around the tumultuous 2017 presidential election, which culminated in the controversial re-election of Juan Orlando Hernandez amid widespread allegations of electoral fraud. In the context of this chaos is our protagonist Libertad, who posts poetry on her anonymous Instagram account to express her frustrations with the government. Along the way she begins to explore her queer identity as she figures out what she wants in life, and whether she can ever have it in a country that doesn’t respect her right to love who she wants.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is its display of tangled family dynamics. Particularly notable are the connections between Libertad and her older brother, Maynor, and her mother, Carmen. Seven years her senior, Maynor is a college student studying to become a doctor. However, as the narrative unfolds, we discover his own frustrations with the status quo, which have motivated him to get involved in student activism. Explaining his desire for a greater purpose, he says “You know where most medical students here end up, Libi? Call centers. They end up becoming medical interpreters for American call centers all over the city. Paid less than seventy Lempiras an hour. That shit would never be legal in their own country. Imagine: Two dollars an hour?”
In addition to their shared disillusionment is Maynor’s unabashed acceptance of Libertad’s queerness, a pillar of support she desperately needs as a contrast to her mother and grandmother. Like many parents, although Carmen wants what’s best for her daughter, her own biases sometimes impede her ability to ensure her daughter’s wellbeing. When she sees a text message on Libertad’s phone mentioning a kiss with a girl, she tells Libertad that her grandmother (abuela) would say “it’s because of how you saw me and your dad fight. That I didn’t provide the example of a good man for you. That I did this to you…and maybe she would be right.” The narrative places Carmen’s homophobia within a personal context, creating a more multifaceted characterization that makes the evolution of their relationship throughout the course of the story all the more compelling.
Although Libertad may take place in a different country, its themes ring incredibly close to home in America’s current political climate. Like the cast of the novel, young people are coming of age in a world amidst radical transformation, one in which they must utilize their collective power to ensure that those changes are for the better. After all, the book reminds us, the most powerful thing we can do as people is car for one another. As Libertad says, “What’s more revolutionary than that?”
