The Prince of Los Cocuyos: A Miami Childhood

“This was the world I wanted to live in. This was America.”

Winn-Dixie is contrasted with the Cuban bodegas where Abuela prefers to shop. It represents a quintessential American experience. The Prince of Los Cocuyos traces Blanco’s struggles to accept his Cuban heritage, which he simultaneously rejects and strives to connect with. In Chapter 1, Blanco admires the crisp, clean Winn-Dixie store with its soft music, bright lights, and technologically advanced checkout counters. In stating that “[t]This was America,” Blanco establishes that to his boyhood self, these qualities are associated with America and that, unlike his Abuela, he is eager to consider himself fully American.

“Nothing like the dittos.”

Blanco convinces Abuela to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and he uses the dittos he colors in school as a blueprint for what Thanksgiving should look like, even showing them to her when describing a Thanksgiving meal. With their Pilgrims, cornucopias, and turkeys, the dittos present an idyllic vision of Thanksgiving. When his family mixes Cuban food with the American food, however—spreading cranberry sauce on Cuban bread and passing up the pumpkin pie in favor of flan—Blanco laments that their behavior is “nothing like the dittos.” His desire to have a traditional Thanksgiving demonstrates his desire to fit in with his American classmates, and his disappointment that even this American holiday should be celebrated with a Cuban flair shows his frustration in reconciling his Cuban and American identities.

“Maybe my family didn’t know anything about turkey or yams or pumpkin pie, but they were a lot more like the Pilgrims than I had realized.”

On Thanksgiving, Blanco’s disappointment dissipates when Abuela tearfully announces that her sister is coming to America from Cuba. Blanco Wwatchesing his family members solemnly celebrating this momentous news. He then ,Blanco considers the difficult journey they all have made in , leaving their homelands with few belongings and in coming to an unknown land. He realizes that the Pilgrims, too, made a similar journey. This passage shows his understanding that seemingly different people have more in common than the superficial details may suggest, and he realizes that his family is truly celebrating Thanksgiving after all. It also helps him feel a the desired connection to America.

“Why didn’t I stay in Cuba?”

Mamá is frustrated with Abuelo’s chickens and complains that she didn’t leave her mother and sisters in Cuba so that she could “clean chicken shit” (41). AltThough the statement is hyperbolic, it demonstrates the expectations his family has for America, which is supposed to offer a better life. Later in the chapter, when an Animal Control officer orders him to get rid of the chickens, Abuelo is exasperated, insisting “this is a free country” (62) and that “[t]hat’s why [he]I came here from Cuba” (62). Their neighbor, Caridad, reinforces this point by complaining that with all their animals, Blanco’s family “were nothing but lowly guajiros” (47) who should “go back to Cuba where [they]we belonged” (47). Mamá’s question echoes Blanco’s belief that Winn-Dixie, with its cleanliness and organization, represents America.

“The backyard felt like a place of memory and imagination, my own version of Abuelo’s lost Cuba.”

Blanco frequently tries to imagine what his family’s life was like back in Cuba. In; having never been to Cuba, he has only their stories and descriptions to connect him with his Cuban heritage. Though aAt times, his parents’ staunchly Cuban behavior he is embarrasses and edor frustrates himd by his parents’ staunchly Cuban behavior, and , he feels lost at other times when he struggles to connect with his family’s past. The backyard farm he and Abuelo care for together is not only Abuelo’s nostalgic attempt to recreate the life he had in Cuba, ; it’s also a way for Blanco to feel Cuban. His caring for the animals fills a gap in his identity, making its absence that much more painful.

“It’s better to be it and not look like it, than to look like it even if you are not it.”

Abuela issues this warning to Blanco after he goes to a craft store and purchases a rug-making kit. She will say it again in Chapter 5 when Blanco hesitates to take Deycita to her Quinces. At the time, Blanco interprets “it” to mean “all the things [he]I enjoyed for which she constantly humiliated [him]me” (72). , such as “my paint-by number sets” and “my cousin’s Easy-Bake Oven I wanted for my own” (72). In Chapter 6, he will tell Anita that Abuela “was an awful and mean person” (194); later in the chapter, he writes that Abuela had “ridiculed and hurt [him]me” (218) with her insisting his interests are “sissy” (213). Abuela often chastises Blanco’s behavior and interests, insisting that he act like “un hombre.” Throughout The Prince of Los Cocuyos, Blanco notes many incidents in which Abuela’s criticism makes him feel shame, to the extent that he is terrified to acknowledge that he “was a gay man, un maricón, just as Abuela had feared” (217).

“After all their talk about missing their wonderful lives back in Cuba, how could they be fascinated by my country’s presidents?”

Blanco, who throughout The Prince of Los Cocuyos describes his journey toward accepting both the Cuban and American parts of him, does not yet comprehend that one can feel both Cuban and American. At this young age, he believes his parents’ longing for their homeland precludes their identifying as American. He reiterates this in Chapter 4: when Mamá tells him he’s cubano but “also a little americano; and un galleguito from Spain, where you were born” (133), he laments that “everyone knew for certain where they belonged except [him]me and Yetta” (133). This passage also highlights the struggles of immigrants. Blanco suggests that, just as he and his brother have to translate for his parents on the trip to Disney, his parents don’t understand everything the presidents are saying. ;Hhowever, they sit “mesmerized” (95) by the words. In this way, Blanco portrays the obstacles immigrants face, even when fulfilling their dream.

“Was this what my parents had felt like when they left Cuba, not knowing whether they’d ever see such a magical place again?”

This passage offers one of many of Blanco’s attempts to understand his parents and to imagine their life in Cuba. His inability to fully connect with his Cuban heritage is a source of anxiety throughout the book. Imagining himself in his parents’ position—trying to quantify his parents’ experiences through something he himself can relate to—helps him understand not only his parents but also himself.

“Everything is ruined.”

When the family returns from Disney, Blanco leaves his crayons in the back of Papá’s beloved Malibu; when the crayons melt, Papá is furious, and he makes Blanco scrape the wax off with a knife. Chapter 3, while describing the joys of vacation, also depicts various incidents in which his parents’ discomfort in America is clear. Caco translates for his father in his father’s dealings with the police officer and the service plaza cashier, who scolds him to learn English;. Blanco writes that his parents “were at [their]our mercy” (82) and “didn’t dare engage anyone without [them]us as backup translators” (82). At the service plaza restaurant, Mamá enters “cautiously” (82) and “scanned the crowd like a dumbfounded señorita Dorothy in the land of los americanos” (82)—in other words, like an outsider. To Papá, the Malibu represents years of hard work in the land of opportunity; he polishes it lovingly and insists on keeping it in pristine condition. It is evidentce, among countless reminders of his conspicuousness, that he has succeeded in America. His lament that everything—not only the car—is ruined reveals the stress these obstacles present and illustrates how much this success means to him.

“What will Carla and Denise think of us lugging all this junk?”

Blanco is thrilled when he learns his cousins Carla and Denise, who “were born and raised in New York” and “were big-city girls, as American as could be” (115), will be joining the family for their vacation in Miami Beach. He loves Denise’s “headbands and hot pants” and the fact that “[s]he spoke with a thick New York accent” (115).;Hhe also loves how Carla “played the piano and wore her hair down to her waist like Cher” (115). When his mother crams pounds of rice, black beans, plantain chips, and pork shoulder into the car—as well as her pressure cooker, rice maker, plantain masher, and espresso pot—Blanco worries that his family won’t be sophisticated enough for his New York cousins. This is but one example of Blanco’s embarrassment at his parents’ Cubanness; he and Caco are mortified when his parents bring a similar stock of food to their Disney hotel, and later, Blanco will resist dancing with his family on the beach, for “[s]alsa just wasn’t cool” (229). Part of Blanco’s journey is to accept the Cuban part of himself. ; tThis quotation demonstrates his initial rejection of it.

“[I]t was the same emptiness I felt on Lincoln Road; the same loneliness I saw in the eyes of the old folks sitting at the Copa, lost in time; the same undertow of sadness pulling at my parents whenever they spoke about their lives back in Cuba. Like Cuba, like New York City, Miami Beach—Yetta’s Miami Beach—suddenly became a place I had never been to either.”

Just as how in Chapter 1 he equated the plight of his Cuban relatives with the plight of the Pilgrims, Blanco equates Yetta’s longing for old Miami with his parents’ longing for Cuba. By highlighting these similarities, Blanco reinforces that people have in common more than what may appear. As he fulfills his punishment for leaving the hotel without telling Mamá, he daydreams of the Copa in its heyday, “disappearing into the past, into Yetta’s stories, into another Miami Beach, the way [he] had seen [his] parents and grandparents disappear into the Cuba of their past” (142). The understanding that people are the same and have similar experiences will help him accept the various aspects of himself.

“So we’re a little from everywhere—not so bad, I think. Not so bad.”

In Miami Beach, Blanco makes friends with Yetta Epstein, an elderly Jewish woman who is nostalgic for old Miami. She says she’s “a little from everywhere” (126)—Miami, Poland, even Cuba. Blanco, already torn between his Cuban and American roots and fitting in neither with the kids nor the adults—relates to her:, thinking, “It seemed like everyone knew for certain where they belonged except me and Yetta” (133). When Blanco tells her he sometimes feels Cuban, sometimes feels American, and sometimes doesn’t feel anything, Yetta says, “Don’t worry about it, bubbelah” (145), assuring him she feels differently on different days, too. The lesson is reinforced that evening when, sitting on the beach watching the Fourth of July fireworks, his family contemplates how long they’ve been in America. , hHis uncle even muses:ing, “Sometimes I forget where I am anymore” (148). By the end of the chapter, Blanco smiles when he thinks that Yetta is “a little from everywhere,” suggesting she’s helped him come to terms with the various components of his identity.

“In Don Gustavo’s view, hard work made a man, and being a man came with its own subset of lessons.”

Abuela arranges for Blanco to work at El Cocuyito because “hard work” will “make him un hombre” (153) in part by helping him lose weight. At dinner, in front of the entire family, she warns that “if he doesn’t lose all that fat before he turns thirteen, his pipi will shrivel up—become nada” (153). Hard work is associated with thinness, which in turn indicates manliness. Blanco’s weight is one more subject on which Abuela criticizes him for not being manly enough, an example especially frustrating for Blanco given that in his younger years, Abuela overfed him because he was “skinny and frail like a girl” (152). Don Gustavo has his own rules of manhood: boys shouldn’t use straws, only little boys wear shorts, and “[r]eal men are not afraid of getting dirty” (157). This passage demonstrates how Blanco feels pressure to be “un hombre,” not only from Abuelo, but also from society at large. The stress makes him “worn out physically and emotionally” (157).

“To many, Deycita was as pretty as her name [….] But not me. While I could admit she was attractive, I wasn’t attracted to her. The truth was, I didn’t find any girl that attractive. I figured I just hadn’t found the one who could really turn me on.” 

Just as Blanco can’t bring himself to admit why he sneaks glances at an attractive male classmate in the locker room, he isn’t yet ready to acknowledge that he simply isn’t attracted to girls. When Deycita’s mother attempts to arrange for Blanco to take her daughter to her Quinces, Blanco hesitates, submitting only after Abuela teases him about not liking girls and bribing him with a 20-twenty dollar bill. Later, Blanco feels no physical attraction to his girlfriend Anita. ;Hhe then wonders why he doesn’t feel for her what his best friend Julio says he feels with girls.

“Indeed they were my village, and for this night, I was their prince.”

The Prince of Los Cocuyos offers many examples of Blanco’s struggle to feel connected to his Cuban heritage; he often feels lost and without identity, and the stories of his Cuban family feel distant and unreal. Having never been to Cuba, Blanco finds his “village” and his “pueblo” (181) in the Cuban bodega El Cocuyito, which serves as a haven for exiled Cubans with a longing for the foods of their homeland. There, he grows into a young man who becomes a depended upon worker, converses easily with the Cuban customers, learns to speak Cubichi, and helps roast pigs to fill Christmas orders. Blanco feels like their “prince” the night of Deycita’s Quinces party, when he receives praise from his friends at El Cocuyito.

“I knew it should be one of the most beautiful, unforgettable moments in my life—my first kiss—but I also knew in that moment that I wasn’t, and never would be, like other boys.”

Blanco had convinced himself that he simply hadn’t found the right girl and that once he did, he was too nervous to feel physical desire for her. He plans a romantic evening at his homecoming dance in order to set the mood for their first kiss. AltThough the kiss is indeed romantic, he doesn’t feel “the passion that Julio had described” (199). In this moment, the little things he had noticed distinguish him from other boys he knowsformulate significance. After this night, he and Anita drift apart, though it will be years before he’s able to admit to himself that he’s gay.

The textures of the world seemed more imaginary yet more real than before [….] Words and numbers began healing me the day, but they also began to haunt me: Could I hear the mermaids? Would I ever dare to disturb the universe? Could I not imagine any answers to the questions I had begun to ask myself?”

After Julio’s death, Blanco struggles to understand the “unanswerable why” (197). He experiences a moment of clarity one day in school when he learns about infinite numbers, which can’t be explained: “[W]we have to imagine an answer” (200). Throughout the day, Blanco wonders about “the reality of everything else” (200), from cells in biology to Ffrench fries at lunch. In English class, he reads “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and is intrigued by the mermaids, who “represent […] unattainable dreams and desires”  (201) that people “spend their lives afraid to act” (201) upon. From this, he finds meaning in Julio’s death; he realizes that Julio had “dared to disturb the universe,” that “[h]e had heard the mermaids speak to him” (202). In this passage, Blanco wonders if he, too, will follow his dreams and desires.

“But sometimes I feel like something is missing. Like nobody understands me. I can’t explain it.”

Blanco reads “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” to Victor. Victor doesn’t understand all the words, but he does sense that “the man in the poem is sad” (211). When he asks Blanco if he himself feels sad, Blanco admits sometimes he does but that he can’t explain why. Victor assures him that he has “time to figure things out” (211). Later in the chapter, when Blanco doesn’t reciprocate his tentative sexual advance, Victor tells Blanco the long process by which he himself acknowledged his sexuality and assures Blanco that he will accept himself “one day when the time is right” (217). Blanco has not allowed himself to acknowledge his attraction to Victor; the vagueness of this quotation reflects the vagueness of his thoughts regarding his sexuality.

“I didn’t respond, pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about, even though I did—and he knew I did. He knew I was petrified—incapable—of acknowledging the truth that I had always known: I was a gay man, un maricón, just as Abuela had feared. But I couldn’t disturb the universe—not yet, anyway.”

Blanco and Victor develop a close relationship in which they share music, art, and wine in the loft at El Cocuyito. Eventhough Blanco is physically attracted to Victor, and though Victor appears physically attracted to him, Blanco can’t bring himself to acknowledge this attraction. In his house one night, when Victor initiates sexual intimacy, Blanco “couldn’t disturb the universe—not yet, anyway” (217). His entire life, Abuela has mocked and threatened him for not being enough of “un hombre.”;Hhe’s also been teased by Caco and other children. It isn’t until years later, after the memoir ends, that Blanco is comfortable enough to begin a romantic relationship with a man.

“New Wave music and slaughtered pigs—something about Ariel didn’t quite add up.”

Blanco’s puzzlement over Ariel echoes his disapproval of Abuela’s mixing Cuban and American foods: “[I]n my mind the combinations just didn’t belong together—they were from two different worlds” (18). Blanco doesn’t understand how Ariel, someone who makes mojo sauce and loves his Cuban school, can also enjoy American pastimes. He wonders at Ariel’s partly Cuban, partly American outfit and how he uses “primo” and “killer” in the same sentence. For years Blanco has felt lost and confused in his identity, feeling neither Cuban nor American. Ariel’s comfort with both identities helps inspire Blanco to finally accept both parts of himself.

“I grew jealous of Ariel. He knew—saw, touched, smelled—so much that I never had; he could love and understand my family and their country in a way that I probably never could.”

Though Blanco has heard his family’s stories for years, yet they seemed the “vague stories told by old, weepy men” (237). Hearing Ariel speak with them,  though, Blanco finds the stories have life. , and Hhe grows interested, for the first time, in the details of the house his family left behind. He realizes he’d never sought to discover information about his family in Cuba, and wonders why. Blanco has always felt adrift not being able to relate to his family and has sought ways to feel connected, trying to imagine himself in their situation, for example comparing their leaving Cuba to his leaving Disney World. This passage illustrates the pain he feels from this disconnect.

“Suddenly it made sense, and it was so obvious. They didn’t mean beautiful as in pretty or gorgeous, or in the way Ariel was beautiful. The pig was beautiful not because of how it looked, but because of what it meant.”

Blanco acknowledges the profound longing of his family for their homeland and that recreating this Cuban tradition is comforting and, that it fulfills a deep need. Their appreciation for the pig is reminiscent of Abuelo’s desire to grow a farm in the backyard, even obtaining a dog like the dog he left in Cuba.

“He had the same timbre in his voice and faraway look in his eyes as I’d seen in the old men that afternoon when they talked about Cuba. Only Ariel was a boy—a man—my age. Could I have been him, had I been born and raised in Cuba? What if I had to get in a boat and leave everything I knew, not knowing whether I’d see my brother again, or my friends, or this lighthouse, or Ariel? What would I do?”

Ariel’s youth, together with the fact that the two have similar interests, helps Blanco imagine what his parents went through when they immigrated from Cuba. Although Ariel has confounded him with his embracing of both Cuban and American customs, Blanco realizes that in different circumstances, he could have been like Ariel. Blanco has simultaneously rejected his family’s attachment to Cuba, and longed to understand it. ; his brief friendship with Ariel helps him accept the Cuban in him. In this passage, the “old, weepy men” (237) who tell stories of Cuba are humanized.