Elena Sheppard's poignant memoir, The Eternal Forest, explores her Cuban family's complicated history with the island they loved and (in some cases) left behind. Sheppard, the only daughter of a Cuban mother and a white American father, also examines her own fascination with her family's past, even as she tries to piece together the fragmented narrative from her grandmother's stories, her own visits to Cuba, and other family artifacts and stories.
Sheppard's narrative focuses often on her grandmother Rosita, the largest "nesting doll" in their female-dominated family. Born in Cuba in 1921, Rosita is the matriarch, and her stories of politics, immigration, and womanhood shape the family narratives. Sheppard recounts the details of Rosita's childhood and young womanhood, painting a picture of pre-Castro Cuba: a place of palm trees and rumba, but also great privilege for a few and staggering poverty for many. Sheppard traces the effects and aftermath of Castro's rise to power, the complicated feelings of Cuban immigrants toward the U.S., and her family's constant yearning for Cuba, even after decades away. "Cuba and the scar of exile are in all of our details," she writes. This longing, shot through with relief at having escaped, permeates the book. Sheppard investigates many Cubans' tendency toward mythmaking: the incidents in Castro's life that shaped his rise to power, the traits of her family members that sometimes render them one-dimensional, and her own inclination to elevate Cuba to mythical status.
The Eternal Forest also engages with mental illness: Sheppard's aunt, Mariana, died by suicide, and her presence haunts the family still. Sheppard shares her own experiences with anxiety; her aunt's dark periods, which eventually led to her death; and the ways her family (and Cubans at large) could not make sense of the darkness, even while it, too, has often shaped their lives. Sheppard connects her aunt's suicide to other deaths in their family and in Cuban history, and to the powerful trauma of losing one's home. However, her narrative also contains stubborn joy: reuniting with family members who never left the island; enjoying Cuban food and traditions in Miami and elsewhere; and the enduring belief in the possibility of return and redemption.
Sheppard's well-researched and haunting memoir is a tribute to a lost homeland and a moving reflection on what it means to live in one country and long for another. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams
Shelf Talker: Elena Sheppard's haunting memoir recounts her Cuban family's history of immigration, love, and loss.