Book Review: Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo

‘Clap When You Land’ by Elizabeth Acevedo is a novel-in-verse, told from the perspective of half-sisters, Camino and Yahaira. It was released in 2020 and is Acevedo’s fifth project.

Just a month before Camino’s birthday, her father makes his annual trip back home to the Dominican Republic to visit her for the summer, leaving his secret American family behind, to spend several months with his other beloved daughter.

The story follows the weeks following the sudden death of the girls’ multi-faceted father, Yano. Although he had two families, kept secret from one another, both Yahaira and Camino lost their father that day. The book explores the depths of grief, kinship, love, and dreams. While Yahaira lives in an apartment in New York City, Camino lives in a large house in a seaside village. Money, or the lack thereof haunts both girls in the wake of Papi’s death.

Although at the beginning, their issues mirrored one another, the circumstances were completely different. While Yahaira was worried about her mother missing work, and spending beyond the family’s means, Camino is struck by the reality that now her father is gone, he can’t pay for her tuition for private school, and without that, she can’t go to Columbia University and become a doctor. She will have to live like her auntie, who uses herbs and natural remedies to help the sick in their village for small sums of money.

it is only when Yahaira, who knew about Yano’s other wife, learns about Camino’s existence, and Camino’s aunt finally tells her about her father’s betrayal, and second family that the sisters grow to understand and resent each other. Yahaira’s willingness to hand over money without a second glance irks Camino, while Camino’s beautiful home filled with culture, customs, and community she had always wanted to access made Yahaira resentful. But, they feel a connection far deeper than they thought possible over such a short stretch of time.

This book was very emotional, and although it was moving, exploring the aches you feel when you lose someone, I feel like it would probably be an easier read if you can speak Spanish. I loved how Acevedo used both English and Spanish in the poems, but, my own lack of understanding Spanish meant I was constantly jumping over to Google Translate – not that that bothered me, after all, I was the one who chose to pick the book up, but it is worth acknowledging that it may have had a more emotional resonance for a native Spanish speaker, or a confident Spanish speaker, after all, language has a lot of nuances, and Google Translate doesn’t necessarily pick all of that up.

I would very much recommend this book. It was a cathartic, evocative read and I look forward to reading more of Acevedo’s work in the future.