Alcy Leyva

In the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life, we meet Maji, a sixteen-year-old African-American teenager from the Bronx who, inspired by MOBY DICK, and overwhelmed by issues of racism, mental health, and complex family dynamics, sets sail on the Hudson in search of a miracle and experiences a coming-of-age journey that blends own-voice insight, social commentary, elements of magical realism

The Silent, Subtle, Ever-Present Perils of Life

Fredo Moreno

"And you just want to tear everything down. With your own bare hands, just rip it up and ball it up. Because of your fear, you want to be in control. And the only way you can be in control is by burning the whole thing down."

Oh my god, you can't get a more beautiful line than this.

He takes a breath and lies cross-legged, looking up at the stars. They shine so vividly that when he reaches up with his hand, Maji feels close enough to pluck a shining gem down for himself as if tearing it from a piece of fabric.

The soft cry of seagulls and the rush of water slapping against the shore appear like pale blues and greens, tendrils from another world.

Maji wakes with the sting of seawater in his nose and stiff pain in his neck—a product of falling asleep on the wooden floor of his makeshift raft.

Leyva's book is an intimate exploration into the contemporary manifestations of racism, and the brutality of life for some. You read the book through the perspective of a high schooler who, desperate to escape the chaos haunting him, sets off into the ocean á là Moby Dick to find his "miracle." Beautifully written, emotionally insightful, and fast paced.

The Silent, Subtle, Ever-Present Perils of Life

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