ShopSpell

Waiting for Snow in Havana Confessions of a Cuban Boy [Paperback]

$16.99     $18.00    6% Off      (Free Shipping)
100 available
  • Category: Books (Biography & Autobiography)
  • Author:  Eire, Carlos
  • Author:  Eire, Carlos
  • ISBN-10:  0743246411
  • ISBN-10:  0743246411
  • ISBN-13:  9780743246415
  • ISBN-13:  9780743246415
  • Publisher:  Free Press
  • Publisher:  Free Press
  • Pages:  400
  • Pages:  400
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Jun-2004
  • Pub Date:  01-Jun-2004
  • SKU:  0743246411-11-MING
  • SKU:  0743246411-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100018975
  • List Price: $18.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Jul 11 to Jul 13
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.
“Have mercy on me, Lord, I am Cuban.” In 1962, Carlos Eire was one of 14,000 children airlifted out of Havana—exiled from his family, his country, and his own childhood by Fidel Castro’s revolution. Winner of the National Book Award, this stunning memoir is a vibrant and evocative look at Latin America from a child’s unforgettable experience.

Waiting for Snow in Havanais both an exorcism and an ode to a paradise lost. For the Cuba of Carlos’s youth—with its lizards and turquoise seas and sun-drenched siestas—becomes an island of condemnation once a cigar-smoking guerrilla named Fidel Castro ousts President Batista on January 1, 1959. Suddenly the music in the streets sounds like gunfire. Christmas is made illegal, political dissent leads to imprisonment, and too many of Carlos’s friends are leaving Cuba for a place as far away and unthinkable as the United States. Carlos will end up there, too, and fulfill his mother’s dreams by becoming a modern American man—even if his soul remains in the country he left behind.

Narrated with the urgency of a confession,Waiting for Snow in Havanais a eulogy for a native land and a loving testament to the collective spirit of Cubans everywhere.Chapter 1

Uno


The world changed while I slept, and much to my surprise, no one had consulted me. That's how it would always be from that day forward. Of course, that's the way it had been all along. I just didn't know it until that morning. Surprise upon surprise: some good, some evil, most somewhere in between. And always without my consent.

I was barely eight years old, and I had spent hours dreaming of childish things, as children do. My father, who vividly remembered his prior incarnation as King Louis XVI of France, probably dreamt of costume balls, mobs, and guillotines. My mother, who had no memory of having been Marie Antoinette, couldn't have shared in hil¥
Add Review