Cinderella Latina/ La Cenicienta Latina

 

author: Bobbi Salinas 

illustrator: Bobbi Salinas

translator: Enrique Lamadrid

Piñata Publications, 2003

grades 4-up 

Mexican American

This bilingual Mexican-American feminist telling of the Cinderella story, as only Salinas can do it, is as unlike any of the other “Spanish-multicultural” versions as, say, Frida Kahlo is to Doris Day. Here, Serena’s parents encourage her to be a lifelong learner, to take in all the wonders of nature, to remember the importance of dancing and laughter, and never to forget to say gracias a la vida. All of this learning will be of good use to her after she loses her parents, when Serena becomes Cenicienta and has to deal with the cruelty of her stepmother and stepsisters, ¿tú sabes?

A curandera helps Serena to get to the fiesta, where she meets the love of her life. They eventually get married, of course—but not before she obtains her medical degree and opens La Clinica de Mujeres, which is right next door to his Escuela del Pueblo.

With dead-on details of Mexican art, culture, intellectualism and revolutionary activism, Salinas’s ink-and-acrylic paintings are amazing. Check out the titles on Serena’s bookshelf, por ejemplo, and see who’s at the fiesta. Highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 4/6/13)

Domitila: A Cinderella Tale from the Mexican Tradition

author: Jewell Reinhart Coburn

illustrator: Connie McLennan

Shen’s Books / Lee & Low, 2000

grades 3-5
Mexican

This is a rather sweet tale about Domitila, a young girl from a rugged area in the Mexican state of Hidalgo. She becomes a cook in the governor’s mansion in order to support her parents, who have lost everything in a flash flood after a rainstorm. Her mother’s words—“Do every task with care, and never, ever forget to add a generous dash of love”—inspire her. In fact, these little homilies, in Spanish and English, appear on every other page of the book, enhancing what is happening on the opposite page. I could have done without them, but morals are not all bad.

The first dish Domitila prepares by herself enraptures the governor’s arrogant eldest son, who at first derides her country cooking. When she is called home because her mother is ill, he finds a piece of her leatherwork and a bit of her cooking, and determines to find the secrets of such a skilled young woman.

Of course, the young man searches in vain—because Hidalgo is a very large state—and encounters the wicked stepmother and her lazy daughter, who conspire to get rid of Domitila, marry her now-widowed father, and capture the prince, uh, governor’s son, by any means necessary. The young man is aided in his quest by the kindly women in the town, who seem to be incarnations of Domitila’s mother. Instead of a glass slipper, he shows her the tooled leather strap from her sandal, professes his love, and they go on to marry and live happily ever after.

This story does not stay with its sappy beginning; it instead shows a humble young woman with great gifts who doesn’t give up her values, and a young entitled man who changes his values to match those of his beloved. The land is honestly portrayed, as are the people who live there. I see no condescension in the author’s portrayal of the characters, or in the illustrations that capture the essence of the surroundings and enhance the storyline. Recommended.

—Judy Zalazar Drummond
(published 4/6/13)

Adelita: A Mexican Cinderella Story

author: Tomie De Paola

illustrator: Tomie De Paola

Putnam, 2002

kindergarten-grade 3 

Mexican

Caveat: This reviewer does not like “multicultural” Cinderella variants, of which there are far too many.

Hace mucho tiempo—a long time ago—in a village in Mexico, there lived a merchant named Francisco and his beautiful young wife, Adela. One day, Adela said, “Francisco, estamos esperando un bebé—we are going to have a baby.”

In “Mexico,” no particular place, beautiful young wife has baby, then dies. Merchant remarries, then dies. Stepmother and stepsisters mistreat young daughter. Fiesta, eligible bachelor, blah, blah, blah. Eligible bachelor smitten by young woman, she disappears, he looks for her, stepsisters are jealous, eligible bachelor and beautiful young woman marry and live happily ever after. 

The author’s insertion of italicized Spanish phrases into the text—immediately followed by their English translations—disrupt what little flow there is and are way annoying. Take away the Spanish phrases, acrylic paintings incorporating chili peppers in the kitchen, papel picado decorations at the “fiesta,” a beautifully embroidered rebozo, and the Spanish, upper class stepmother’s abrupt dismissal of her Indian servant (which may be the only truly Mexican cultural marker here), and you have a boring, predictable story, the best part of which is that it’s only 29 páginas—pages—long. Not recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 4/6/13)