This reading group guide for Learning to Die in Miami includes an introduction, discussion questions, ideas for enhancing your book club, and a Q&A with author Carlos Eire . The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book. INTRODUCTION In Learning to Die in Miami, Carlos Eire explores the consequences associated with the emergence of a new American identity at the expense of the "death" of his old Cuban self during the Cuban Revolution. Along the way, Carlos must learn to navigate the differences between his past and present lives--redefining his relationship with his distant parents, mastering a new language, and adopting foreign customs and traditions. As Carlos is plagued by intense bouts of loneliness and abandonment while struggling to find his footing in his new homeland, readers cannot help but be moved by Eire''s compelling first-person account of immigration in America. Learning to Die in Miami is a universal story of not only the pain of letting go, but also the rewards it ultimately brings. TOPICS AND QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION Re-read the poem by Emily Dickinson at the beginning of the book: "Death is a dialogue between/The spirit and the dust.

An overcoat of clay." Why do you think Carlos Eire chose this poem to open his memoir? Describing his experience of arriving in Miami as finally crossing over into "the real world" (p. 9), Eire then perceives Cuba as part of "some other dimension." (p. 9) What first impressions of the United States may have inspired this perspective? Throughout the memoir, Carlos Eire refers constantly to the father and mother he left behind as Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Why did he choose these nicknames? Do you find them apt? Eire describes a popular Cuban comic radio show called "La Tremenda Corte" (p. 36), which became unavailable under the Castro regime. How did the plot of this show compare and contrast with the events that were occurring in Havana during when Eire was growing up? Why do you think it was removed from the air despite its tremendous popularity? One of the themes Learning to Die in Miami explores is the relationship between parents and children.

After separating from his parents, Carlos writes poignantly, "We had letters, yes, but letters are a very poor substitute for parents when you''re eleven.children need to press the flesh and to have mom and dad there.without that sort of contact mom and dad become ciphers, mere concepts." (p. 44) How did his time with his various foster families shape his experience? Were any of them real substitutes for his parents? One the main goals Eire had when he arrived in America was to master the English language. Why was this so important to him? How do you interpret Eire''s emotion as he demands, "Don''t ask me what I think about my fellow Hispanics who insist on bilingual everything, or about how I feel every time I see a public sign in Spanish or am asked to choose between English or Spanish on the phone." (p. 54-55) Eire experiences an intense conflict of personal identity during his first three years in America.

How does Eire progress from identifying himself as Carlos, Charles, Charlie, Chuck, and then, finally, Carlos once again? What events in his life were pivotal toward shaping his method of self-expression? Among the many emotions that Eire struggles with as he adapts to his new homeland is "the feeling of being utterly alone and abandoned forever, of being stuck with no one but [himself] for eternity. The Void." (p. 91) When does the Void first enter Carlos''s life? What does the Void represent to him and how does he handle it? Does he ever ultimately overcome the Void? Why do you think Eire describes Christmas as "the darkest day of the year?" (p. 118) What was Eire''s relationship with this holiday that usually embodies tradition and joy? One of the terms Eire comes up with to describe his "death" in Miami is "self-squashing." (p. 163) How does this term describes his situation? Adding to the richness of this memoir is how Eire plays with time throughout the memoir, layering his adolescent experience through both young and more mature eyes. How different would Learning to Die in Miami have been if he had not used this storytelling technique? How does Eire''s experience of leaving Cuba behind mold his opinion of President John F.

Kennedy as a "knucklehead (p. 191)?" Do you feel that his attitude of bitterness toward the president is justified? What do you think Eire is referring to specifically when he proclaims, "letting go is the ultimate happiness, and the ultimate pain (p. 248)?" In what way does religion play a role in the narrative? ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB Learning to Die to Miami is a brilliant follow up to Carlos Eire''s first memoir, the National Book Award-winner Waiting for Snow in Havana . Read Eire''s first book and discuss how the two narratives ultimately come together to form his story. Eire makes references to Plato''s cave during his first few years in America. As a group, read Plato''s Allegory of the Cave in The Republic and discuss how the various stages of the allegory correlate with the stages of Eire''s journey. One of the most important influences of Eire''s coming of age is Thomas à Kempis''s The Imitation of Christ . Select passages from this classic and discuss how they relate to or have influenced your own lives.

Television shows such as The Twilight Zone, The Andy Griffith Show, and The Beverly Hillbillies were an important part of Eire''s childhood identity and his experience of America. What television shows had a direct effect on who you are today? A CONVERSATION WITH CARLOS EIRE Where did you encounter Emily Dickinson''s poem at the beginning of the memoir? Why did you choose to open your memoir with it? I discovered Emily Dickinson in high school, about forty-four years ago. Although I had a tin ear for poetry back then, I knew instinctively that her poems had something that was lacking in most of the other poetry that was assigned to us: an intuitive grasp of paradox, and of our deep-seated longing for transcendence. Over time, as I matured, her poetry stayed with me, and especially this poem, since I have always been drawn to the conundrum of our mortality. As I was writing my Very Brief History of Eternity two years ago, the poem surfaced many times, both in my mind and in my reading. So, when I began writing Learning to Die , I didn''t have to search for the perfect opening epigram. It had been there all along, guiding my thinking. It seems perfect, not just because it influenced me, but because it sums up the central theme of this book: that of the immortality of the soul.

In this memoir we see your struggles defining yourself as a Cuban living in America. Today, do you consider yourself Cuban American, Cuban, or American? Why so? Do you still consider yourself a refugee? I''m always amazed when anyone asks me this question, for the chief assumption behind it is that one''s identity can be neatly packaged, and one can simply be either this or that . I realize that for someone who has spent their entire life living in a single culture, it must be hard to imagine what it feels like to be an immigrant, and to absorb cultures other than the one you were born into, but, in many ways, asking this question is a lot like asking whether the tongue is for speaking or for tasting. Many things in life and in nature--Like the tongue--cannot be explained in terms of either/or. Being an immigrant in the United States is not an either/or proposition, but rather a both/and. No one ever ceases to be part of the culture from which they came, save for infants who are adopted and taken to another country shortly after birth. Immigrants add other layers to their identity, other "selves," and depending on age, personality, and circumstances, these layers or "selves" assume all sorts of different configurations in each individual. I try to deal with this complexity in this memoir, and with the fact that one''s identity is always fluid in exile, and that there are times when the different selves converge or collide.

Immigrants know first-hand that the "I" or "me" is not simple or uniform: it''s a riotous mess. So, to finally answer the question point blank: I have a complex identity. Of course I''m American. Of course I''m Cuban. Of course I''m Cuban-American. I''m also Spanish and European, for my grandparents were immigrants from Spain and they and my parents and relatives always reminded me of the fact that I was not really Cuban, but a displaced European with various identities: Gallego, Catalan, Basque, French, and Irish, with the constant hint of some distant Jewish converso ancestry. And, to top it off, as a historian, my professional self is wholly enmeshed in European history and culture: my research takes me to Europe constantly, which oddly feels like home, and, at the very same time, like a double exile. I am st.