This stunning account of a fictional teenager crossing the Sonoran Desert for Arizona was written for young adults aged 13 through 17. Mateo makes the dangerous journey back home to the United States through the Sonoran Desert with the help of a new friend, a ghost named Guillermo in a supernatural borderland odyssey. Mateo grew up in Phoenix but his family was deported back to Mexico in the summer before his senior year of high school. All he wants in life is to be able to take his SAT test and finish high school. It is the debut graphic novel of Julio Anta and Jacoby Salcedo.

As long as he remembers to stay smart and keep his eyes open, Mateo knows that he can survive the trek across the Sonoran Desert. That is, unless he’s caught by U. S. Border Patrol. Just a few moments after Mateo sneaks across the border fence he is caught. However, he is able to escape but at a huge cost. He loses his backpack and gets lost in the desert. Mateo also is ill-prepared for the unforgiving heat. Enter the ghost, Guillermo, who leads him through the desert.

While a border crossing story is usually an ugly one, the magical realism brought by the ghost gives the novel a light feel. The colorful artwork contributes to this. It has been rendered in a four panel comic strip style a d colored with bright colors.

Frontera is a must read! ( )

This book covered a lot—survival in the Sonora desert, the reasons individual and societal why people would try to cross it, the contradictory and conflicting, attractive and repellent, treatment of U.S. toward the people at its southern border over its history. I did feel that, because there was so much to cover outside the interaction between Mateo and his guide, Guillermo, that their individual characterizations suffered—they were each more of a gloss, an example of a character, than anything. I felt that we didn't really get an idea of who they were, and their feelings and motivations, in a really specific sense. The main character, Mateo, was incredibly frustrating—almost an impulsive hothead, but really his actions seemed performed at random than with any real explanation grounded in his character. But it definitely served the plot. ( )

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARD for review through Netgalley. Content warning for racist violence.)

-- 4.5 stars --

Mateo Renteria is a Dreamer: born in Guadalajara, Mexico, his parents brought him to America when he was three years old in search of a better life. Mateo remained unaware of his undocumented status until the family was discovered by the authorities and deported twelve years later.

As FRONTERA opens, the Renterias are putting their only child on a bus bound for Sásabe, Sonora - and, from there, he's to cross the border with the help of a guide. His final destination: his grandmother's home in Phoenix, Arizona - the only home he's ever known - and his senior year of high school.

Though the crossing is all planned out and paid for, an unexpected delay sends an impatient Mateo storming off on his own - where he's almost immediately caught by border patrol. Luckily, help materializes in the form of a ghost named Guillermo, who died in the Sonoran Desert some seventy years ago, during an ill-fated crossing. Guillermo will help Mateo overcome dehydration, heat stroke, desert wildlife, drones, racist militias, and racist BP agents to make it back home. And maybe, in turn, Mateo can help Guillermo pass into the afterlife - and be reunited with the man he loves.

FRONTERA is such a lovely and magical tale - equal turns harrowing and enchanting. Mateo's back story and journey is both educational and moving, detailing the many obstacles (both natural and, cruelly, man-made) immigrants must endure to make the journey to the United States. And Guillermo's tale tugged especially hard at ye ole heart strings. But the thing that really, truly did me in was El Jefe, and the surprising bond he forges with Mateo and Guillermo. The lonely jaguar's appearance hints at the environmental devastation our inhumane and reactionary immigration policies have wrought; something that's usually mentioned as an afterthought, if at all. (And this isn't at all to suggest that the human casualties are any less tragic or worthy of compassion.)

The artwork is stunning, and manages to encapsulate both the beauty and danger of the southwest. ( )