Author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Rating: 4/5
Ari has spent all his life hiding his true self and being as invisible as possible. During his senior year, he unfolds and allows himself to make friends and strengthen his relations with his parents. And there’s always Dante–the boy he loves more than anything.
Spoilers ahead.
Detailed Summary
We pick up right where the first book finished. Aristotle and Dante start dating. Aristotle is a bit uncomfortable with his identity as a gay man especially when the HIV/AIDS pandemic is in full swing. He becomes closer to his parents and learns more about their worldview. Dante quits the swimming team and wants to transfer schools but Ari doesn’t want that. The two go camping and have sex. On the way back, they stop at the same museum they had stopped at on the way going. Emma, the mother of the artist’s gallery show (who died of HIV because he was gay) gives them a painting with a poem at the back. The two share it and take turns keeping it. Before summer ends, Cassandra Ortega’s older brother dies. Cassandra is in Ari’s class and the two hate each other. Ari and his parents go to the funeral and reception. Ari comforts Cassandra and comes out to her. She tells him he must tell Gina and Susie about being gay. He invites them and Dante over for lunch and apologises for being a jerk and comes out to them. At school, Ari is a lot more invested in his classmates and teachers. He calls one out for being racist. He befriends a boy who sets crickets lose (and he’s nicknamed “Cricket” after that). Cricket had heard Ari tell the story of his mother dealing with lizards in her classroom (Jaime, Ari’s father, had told him that story). Ari wants to see Bernardo because he keeps having nightmares about him. The meeting doesn’t go as Ari anticipated and there doesn’t seem to be a shred of good in Bernardo. He leaves early feeling content all the same. Jaime and Ari talk on the drive and camp too. Jaime tells Ari how he met his mother–he followed Liliana around until she asked when he’d ask her out. So he did. Ari comes out to his older sisters too and they’re supportive. Dante’s mother gives birth to a son whom they name Sophocles. Near New Year’s Eve, Jaime has a heart attack and dies in Ari’s arms. Ari is overcome with grief and his friends support him however they can though Ari has a tendency to isolate himself. Liliana asks Ari to write his father’s eulogy so he does so, reading Jaime’s journals and learning more things he didn’t know. After the funeral, Ari drives away alone and doesn’t come home. Everyone is worried sick and Dante has to give him a shower and put him to bed. Ari continues to feel numb but tries to let his friends help him. They graduate from school, Cassandra is the valedictorian. Dante got accepted into a fancy art program in Paris for the summer. Ari says he should take it and Dante does and they have an abrupt breakup. Dante’s parents invite Ari to take some stuff Dante left for him. Ari finds a huge artwork of two boys in the desert. He decides that he’s going to fly to Paris. He does and the book ends with Dante and Ari staring at The Raft of the Medusa which is Dante’s favourite painting (and hence, Ari’s favourite).
Plot and Pacing
I agonised so much over the rating of this book because Sáenz always ruins me and this book made me feel nostalgic as hell. Even the detailed summary–I couldn’t summarise the book because so much and so little happens in it. Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World is the perfect book to represent the slice-of-life genre. It’s poignant, deeply moving and an introspective work of fiction. It’s a book that makes you examine every one of your core beliefs, to self-analyse and understand yourself. It’s thought-provoking and beautifully written and I have so many annotations that I might as well have just highlighted the whole book.
There were so many little things I loved about the book: the way Dante tried to call Ari “babe” but it just didn’t fit (how the hell do couples get to the pet name stage???), Ari realising that Dante was prone to fits of anger too and wasn’t a perfect boy and loved him all the more for it, Ari’s relationship with his father blossoming (I so desperately want that too but it’s so hard to make that connection), how Ari screamed on the streets when his mother got the “Teacher of the Year” award, the graduation ceremony which made my cheeks burn with embarrassment because it reminded me of MY graduation, the exhilaration and excitement Ari felt when he landed in Paris and looked around.
I was so worried that Ari would be involved in some sort of love triangle. I thought that first with Danny–this kid who helps him fend off bullies leeching on an effeminate boy–and then Cassandra. Both times, my heart fucking stopped because I wanted Ari and Dante to be together forever and ever. Yet, despite wanting that, there was something off-putting about the ending. I mean, okay, it wasn’t off-putting, it just didn’t feel as raw as what I would have preferred: Ari and Dante separating ways. To be honest, I’m still making up my mind about this. The cynical part of me wanted them to break up because realistically speaking, it’s near impossible to stick with your significant others from high school. You’re so goddamn young in school. Like, I don’t think I’m that mature now and I cringe to think how immature I must have been in school. I think we have this tendency to idealise how we were in school and it’s hard to just step outside of our heads and calmly contemplate our true personalities and behaviour at that age.
However, this was a work of fiction. And Ari and Dante are too precious for reality. So, the hopeless romantic in me loved that Ari chased after Dante and made me wonder whether I’d ever say the following about anyone:
“He’s not just some boy, Mom. He’s Dante Quintana.”
There’s a poem on Lilly’s wall that goes like this:
Some children leave, some children stay. Some children never find their way.
In terms of Ari’s family, Ari’s sisters were the ones who left, Bernardo was the one who never found his way and Ari promises his mother that he’ll be the one to stay. I wonder whether it’ll be a similar case within my family. I hope that I can stay with my mother and be there for her. I hope I don’t lose my way. Though, at this point, I guess it’s Merlin and Leia who are the children who stayed.
Reading about Ari’s relationships with his parents made me realise just how genuinely terrified I am of having kids of my own but also showed me just how much I wanted a relationship like that with a youngling. I’m so scared that I’ll close myself off like Jaime. I have a tendency to do that and keep silent and just watch rather than share how I’m feeling.
“A man like me.” He stopped. “A man like me can show a child his affection, but it’s harder…” He stopped. “You get used to not talking. You get used to the silence. It’s hard, you know, to break a silence that becomes a part of how you see yourself. Silence becomes a way of living. Ari…” He looked down at the floor—then looked back up at me.
What if that’s me? I know it doesn’t do to engage in pointless counterfactuals like this one but I hope that if I ever become a parent, I’m more forthcoming about things. I hope I don’t resort to silence the way I do now. I just want what Dante and his parents have. They’re so easygoing and everything seems happy and bright with them.
It was gut-wrenching to read of Jaime’s death. I had a feeling SOMEONE was going to die but I was so sure it was going to be Legs, the dog, because it’s mentioned several times that she can’t jump and that she wasn’t as young as she used to be (which I found odd because I thought she was a puppy when Ari found her and it’s only been, what, two years?). It sucked that just when Jaime and Ari were getting closer, he died. It wasn’t fair for Ari and yes, I’ve intentionally used that phrase because Jaime would have had a riot if he had heard anyone say it. We like to say things aren’t fair but that’s just a way to heap blame onto someone else and be selfish. So even if you feel like you’ve received the short end of the stick, it doesn’t help to just be like, “That’s not fair,” and leave it at that. Be proactive about it. Change what you can.
I am a bit annoyed that the title of this book starts with Aristotle and Dante. I know you can’t have one without the other but I really felt this was more of Ari’s story than of Dante’s. In the first book, the two were so intertwined even if they didn’t know it. In this book, Ari really explores himself and what his role in the world is rather than fixating so much on Dante or living in a Dante-centric universe.
I also can’t stop thinking about whether or not this book really was necessary or not. A small part of me feels that it capitalised a bit on the first book’s success. However, I didn’t realise just how much I needed that trip down memory lane–reliving senior year, my graduation, the friends I had made, the teachers who had impacted me, living with my parents, dreaming about the future. It reminded me of where I came from and made me appreciate all the ones who had lightly and strongly touched my life. Besides, if an author feels the story is incomplete, fucking go for it! We need more beautiful stories in this world.
Characters
When I read the first book, I thought I was a lot more like Ari. Like, if I were to exist on a spectrum from Ari to Dante, I thought I leant closer towards Ari’s side. Reading this though, I don’t know, perhaps I fall smack dab in the centre. I could relate to Dante because I’m a romantic at heart even if you have to dredge a bit of ice to get to that core. I am loyal to a fault and when it comes to the people I really care about, I consider compromising a LOT. Even if I don’t always follow through with it (it’s the thought that counts, right?). I have high expectations of people (working on lowering them because they do lead to far too much disappointment for me to cope with well) and get upset easily when things don’t happen the way I want them to, though, unlike Dante, I don’t show it very often.
However, I could also relate so much to Ari. His whole character arc in this book was exactly the character arc I went through during my senior year of high school. Ari learns to open himself to his friends, to be vulnerable and seek help when he needs it even if he doesn’t necessarily want it. He learns that the adults around him are, for the most part, bumbling creatures who don’t really know what the hell they’re doing but that doesn’t give you the right to rob them of any respect or dignity. Ari appreciates that everyone is fighting their own private battles, battles that no one may have an inkling of. It was so beautiful to see how much he came to love Susie, Gina and Cassandra.
Their little friendship group was wholesome as fuck and I loved how after Jaime died, they let Liliana tag along to their little hangouts too. I just…I think I was close to tearing up when they were so accepting of Liliana. Parents don’t get enough credit sometimes and I was glad that Ari was so comfortable with having his mother around.
As for the relationship between Ari and Dante, I just loved the two boys so much. I loved how much they learnt from each other and how much they had grown and I’m tearing up right now because for that to happen is such a pretty and powerful thing. What a time to be alive when you love a person who loves you as intensely right back and before you know it, parts of them become parts of you and parts of you becomes parts of them. It’s books like these that fuel the romantic in me and I can’t decide whether that’s good or bad because I know I’m setting myself up for disappointment. I guess love is still nice to think about though. Isn’t it pretty to think so?
Writing Style
I have no complaints about Sáenz’s writing. He’s so brilliant that reading this just makes me want to throw away all the YA drafts I’ve written because they are complete and utter shit. I will say it was a bit jarring to see some heavy similes and metaphors in teenage speech (like the whole cartography thing and getting visas to each others’ countries) but I let it slide because the book was so brilliant. I loved it so much and every word rang deep and true. One of my favourite symbolic moments was when Ari realised he needed glasses and the world came into focus. He discusses how before everything was a bit blurry before and I loved that symbolism SO damn MUCH! He was literally learning to see things as they truly were rather than through this distorted and blurry lens.
Then there were lines like,
“I’m sorry that you’re hurting.”
And,
“But when I’m old, I don’t want to be asking myself if my life mattered. Because if I was just a decent guy, if I had just been a good man, then my life would have been a good life. I guess that doesn’t sound very ambitious.”
And,
To let yourself be loved, well, that was the most difficult thing of all.
And I could go on. I really hope I can channel at least a fraction of a per cent of Sáenz’s writing talent.
Earnestly Eccentric 