The Epic Fail of Arturo Zamora

“Yeah, I know I’m thirteen, but there’s just something about a bounce house that makes me feel awesome.”

When the novel begins, Arturo has just finished school for the year—and will presumably begin high school in a few months—and is looking forward to summertime fun with his friends. His admission that this includes jumping in a bounce house signals that he and his friends still have one foot in childhood. Arturo has not yet seriously examined his values and beliefs, but new developments will press him to think and speak for himself, thus nudging him toward young adulthood.

“I felt a burning in my stomach, like a pot of oil was slowly starting to bubble inside. It. Was. Weird.”

Arturo hasn’t seen his mother’s goddaughter, Carmen, since they played together as children. Now they are both 13, and, when she greets him again with kisses, Arturo’s physical reaction confuses him. His feelings are changing in ways that surprise him and that he cannot express. With guidance from Abuelo’s letters, Arturo will find the words—and the courage—to articulate his “weird,” new feelings..

“Everything about La Cocina came back to family.”

Arturo reflects on La Cocina’s family-centered ethos as he looks at the family photographs lining the hallway in the restaurant. While La Cocina “came back to” the Zamora family, its original founders, it also comes back to the family the restaurant helped create—the close community of Canal Grove. By providing traditional Cuban food and caring attention to customers, La Cocina significantly fosters the family spirit that unites its neighborhood.

“BREN: A Cuban rapper from the 1800s? Dude, that’s awesome.”

Chapter 4 takes the form of a short dramatic dialogue between Arturo, Bren, and Mop. After Arturo identifies the book he has as poetry by José Martí, a 19th-century Cuban writer, Bren, a rap music enthusiast, considers the idea of poetry from his own frame of reference. While Bren’s interpretation of Martí’s writing strays from reality, it nevertheless promotes the novel’s view that every voice is valuable and unique, whether it be that of a poet or a rap artist.

“What if he’s plotting a sinister takeover of Miami and we’re the only ones who can stop him?”

After Carmen and Arturo decide to scout out Pipo Place for clues regarding Wilfrido’s proposal, Carmen waxes dramatic and peppers Arturo with outlandish scenarios like this one. Her flights of fancy confuse Arturo and also reveal developmental differences between them. Where Arturo is often uncertain what to say, Carmen is confident with her voice and delights in expressing her imaginative ideas. She is also decisive, unlike Arturo, and it is largely due to her assurances (and kiss) that he finally decides to speak at the public forum.

“You and Abuela are both kind souls.”

Arturo has never given much thought to his individual identity, but as his carefree life begins to change, he is obliged to consider what he values and believes. Carmen here identifies him as kind. Because he fails to appreciate the truth of her insight, he thinks, with disappointment, that her words reflect a fondness she feels equally for him and his grandmother. Arturo will eventually realize that kindness and justice are important to him, and even worth fighting for.

“Y le encantaba la poesía de José Martí. Como la Carmen.” 

Speaking in Spanish, as always, Abuela tells Arturo that his late grandfather, Abuelo, greatly admired the poet José Martí, as Carmen does. While Arturo thinks Abuela “was trying to make an embarrassing romantic connection” (56), she is actually flagging a significant connection between Carmen and Abuelo. They both value kindness, compassion and justice, and they esteem Martí for his advocacy of these ideals. They also both encourage Arturo to discover his own commitment to compassion and justice, along with the courage to voice his beliefs.

“Love and faith are most important. What does that even mean?” 

As Arturo leaves Abuela’s apartment, he wonders what her parting words signify. She has just given him Abuelo’s letters, and they, along with Carmen and challenging circumstances, will clarify her message. Love, Arturo learns from Abuelo’s letters, is the sincere form of caring that creates the bonds in families and communities. When Wilfrido threatens those bonds, Arturo must have enough faith in himself and the integrity of his cause to fight back.

“‘The Hulk! I like the choice,’ she said. ‘You could be, like, my little brother or something.’” 

When Carmen and Arturo meet for their incognito visit to Wilfrido’s office, she wears a disguise “that made her look ten years older” (61), while his costume reduces him to a child. The contrast marks the real and perceived differences in their maturity. Although both are 13, Carmen is indeed more self-assured and articulate than Arturo, but through the lens of his self-doubt, Arturo has a distorted perception of himself as child-like and foolish compared to her. 

“Pipo Place will be the crown jewel of Canal Grove!” 

These are Wilfrido’s words, addressed to the crowd assembled in his office to hear more about his proposed development, Pipo Place. The metaphor he uses—crown jewel—figures the luxury high-rise in terms of wealth and cold, hard, capital. This vision of Canal Grove sharply opposes the nurturing, caring, and warmth that the community’s current cornerstone, La Cocina, epitomizes.

“It’s usually the smaller animals that are dangerous around here. Like barracudas.” 

After assuring Carmen that the large manatees in the canals are harmless, Arturo warns that the smaller ones are more of a threat. Notably, Wilfrido himself “is actually [… only] five-foot-three” (2), and, with his colorful suits, appears cheerful and agreeable. Because many Canal Grovers fail to see him as a threat to their community, he is all the more dangerous.

“They were both young and creative and more interested in focusing on the good things that food can be rather than all the criticisms” 

Carmen’s mother was a highly-acclaimed food writer and Arturo’s is an award-winning chef. While talking with Arturo, Carmen notes that the foundation of their mothers’ close friendship was not just food, but, more importantly, a shared preference for using their talents to further the common good. When faced with competition from Wilfrido, Cari continues to “focus on the good things” about La Cocina, rather than criticize Wilfrido. Arturo will show his mother that some things are worth fighting for.

“What I really needed was to talk to my best friends.”

As Chapter 8 ends, Arturo is uncertain if he should tell Abuela that Wilfrido’s plans spell doom for La Cocina. Because he lacks confidence in his own judgement, he decides to seek advice from Bren and Mop. The following chapter is structured as a dramatic dialogue between the trio. By relaxing his narrative control and allowing his friends to speak for themselves, Arturo signals that, at this point, he respects their voices more than his own.

“So this box contains every detail of my journey—every challenge, failure, triumph, and success.” 

In his introductory letter to Arturo, Abuelo explains he chronicled his “journey” because he wanted Arturo to have access to his grandfather’s own story, “rather than hearing stories about me” (89). Abuelo ends this same letter with a call for Arturo to “[f]ind your voice. Find your story” (91). Abuelo’s letters thus model for Arturo the act of claiming one’s story and how this allows one to share beliefs and insights gained from unique, personal experiences.

“Love is not a tempestuous sea; it is a calm river.” 

These words appear in one of Abuelo’s letters to Arturo. He attributes them to José Martí, but they accurately reflect Abuelo’s own understanding of love and that which the novel itself endorses. True love, from this perspective, is a source of peace, support, and security, not tempestuous, unstable passion. Families and communities are created and sustained through such nurturing love, the spirit of which thrives at Abuela’s restaurant, La Cocina.

“But love and faith weren’t going to save the restaurant.” 

This is Arturo’s conclusion when, having learned of Wilfrido’s ultimate objective, Abuela repeats that “[l]ove and faith are most important” (57). Both Abuela and Cari believe the bonds created by love and caring are strong enough to withstand any adversity. Arturo understands that Wilfrido actually appeals to Canal Grovers sense of community by promising to enhance these bonds. This is a lie, and Arturo realizes they must speak out and expose it as such.

“Now I knew what he meant about doing the most courageous thing ever.” 

In his letters to Arturo, Abuelo reveals that his most courageous feat was not sailing to Florida in a rickety boat, but professing his love to Abuela. Now, as he considers sharing his feelings with Carmen, Arturo appreciates the truth of Abuelo’s experience. He understands that, while voicing one’s thoughts and feelings doesn’t carry the risk of capsizing at sea, it exposes one’s authentic self to ridicule and rejection. To speak up, Arturo must have faith in himself and the courage of his convictions.

“This community is about family! Canal Grove has always been about family!” 

As his self-promoting festival ends, Wilfrido speaks to the crowd of Canal Grovers and, appealing to their community pride, urges them to “take it to the next level” (147) by supporting Pipo Place. The high-rise will draw more money into Canal Grove, and enrich the community. Hearing Wilfrido’s pitch, Arturo shouts that his “community is about family,” not about building wealth. In this moment, Arturo finds his voice, because he now knows what he values and knows it is worth advocating for.

“@PITBULL4LIF: bro, u got a jersey and became the first sixth grader to ever play on the eighth-grade team!!!”

During a message exchange on twitter, Bren encourages Arturo to keep fighting for La Cocina’s future and reminds him that he never gave up on his goal, as a sixth grader, to play on the eighth-grade basketball team. For much of the novel, Arturo has expressed uncertainty about his thoughts and opinions. Bren’s remark suggests, however, that when Arturo knows his own mind, he has the determination to achieve his ambitions. This will prove true as Arturo becomes aware of his values and how fundamental they are to his world.

“I cultivate a white rose.” 

When he sees a white rose among the altar flowers at Abuela’s memorial mass, Arturo remembers this line from the song “Guantanamera,” which takes its lyrics from Martí’s poetry. Abuela herself never lost faith that she would cultivate the flowers on her floribunda bush, even as she cultivated a flourishing community with her family-centered restaurant. Guided by faith in the power of kindness, Abuela’s caring and generous way with others is captured in “Guantanamera”: “I cultivate a white rose/ In June like in January/ For my sincere friend/ Who gives me his honest hand” (159).

“‘Here,’ my mom said, handing me a chef coat. ‘Abuela had this made for you.’” 

Before they begin cooking Abuela’s memorial dinner together, Cari gives Arturo a chef’s coat with his initials on it. Abuela’s gift symbolizes her faith in him, not only to continue the family tradition of cooking, but to do so “focusing on the good things food can be” (74). As the success of La Cocina attests, food can foster and sustain rewarding connections between individual people and between people and their cultural heritage.

“Um, I wrote this when Abuela, um…and I, um, never read it to anyone.” 

Abuelo wrote to Arturo that poetry “gave me the courage to profess my love to” Abuela (131), and now, standing nervously before the Canal Grove council, Arturo musters the courage to speak by drawing on the poem he wrote for Abuela. He had not planned to read the poem, but, better than any speech, it conveys the love that Abuela cultivated in the community. As he lets poetry speak for him, Arturo fulfills Abuelo’s hope that “one day you will get to do the unexpected, Arturo” (131).

“Arturo, family is not just blood. Family is friendship. Family is community.” 

Part of Arturo’s confusion over his feelings for Carmen stems from his worry that, as his mother’s goddaughter, she is his relative. Carmen herself has claimed she and Arturo are “family,” but Cari here assures him they are not “blood” family. Cari explains that family is established through love, which, as understood by Martí, is the sincerest form of caring for one another’s well-being. People form family ties, therefore, whenever they give each other an “honest hand” (159).