Exile

Exile

By Julia Alvarez

The night we fled the country, Papi,

you told me we were going to the beach,

you hurried me to get dressed along with the others,

while I was posted at a window, you looked out

at a curfew darkened Ciudad Trujillo,

speaking in worried whispers to your brothers about which car to take, who would be willing to drive it, and what explanation to give should we be discovered

On the way to the beach, you added, eyeing me.

The uncles fell in, chuckling with phony laughter,

What a good time you’ll have learning to swim!

Back in my sisters’ room, Mami was packing

a hurried bag, allowing one toy apiece, her red eyes belying her explanation:

a week at the beach so Papi can get some rest.

She dressed us in our best dresses, party shoes.

Something was off, I knew, but I was young

and didn’t think adult things could go wrong.

So as we quietly filed out of the house

we wouldn’t see each other again for another decade,

I let myself lie back in the deep waters, my arms outstretched like Jesus on the cross,

and instead of sinking as I had always done, that night I could stay awake,

floating out, past the driveway, past the gates,

in the black Ford, Papi grim at the wheel,

winding through back roads, stroke by stroke,

out on the highway, heading toward the coast.

Past the checkpoint, we raced toward the airport.

My sisters cried when we turned before the family beach house, while Mami consoled them; there was a better surprise in store for us!

She couldn’t tell, though, until we were there.

But I had already run ahead and guessed a loss much larger than I understood,

more danger than the deep end of the pool.

At the dark, deserted airport we waited.

All night, in a fitful sleep, I swam.

At dawn, the plane arrived, and as we boarded, Papi turned, his eyes scanned the horizon as if trying to sight a distant swimmer.

He frantically waved his hand back, for he knew that as we stepped inside the cabin, a part of both of us had been set adrift.

Weeks later, wandering our new city, hand in hand,

you tried to explain the wonders: escalators as moving belts; elevators as pulleys and ropes;

blond hair and blue eyes: a genetic code.

We stopped before a summery display window at Macy’s, the World’s Largest Department Store,

to admire a family outfitted for the beach: a handsome father, slim and sure of himself, so unlike you, Papi, with your thick mustache, your three-piece suit, your fedora hat, and your accent.

And by his side was a girl who looked like Heidi from my storybook, wading in colored plastic.

We stood awhile, marveling at America. Both of us tried hard to feel luckier than we felt, pointing out the beach pails, the shovels, the sandcastles that no wave would ever topple, the red and blue boats.

When we backed away, we saw our reflections superimposed, big-eyed, dressed too formally, with all due respect, as visitors to this country.

Or, Papi, like two swimmers looking down at the quiet surface of our island waters, seeing their faces right before plunging in, eager, afraid, not yet sure of the outcome.

Unpacking “Exile”: A Journey of Innocence and Identity

Poetry possesses a unique power to capture the most profound human experiences, and Julia Alvarez’s “Exile” stands as a brilliant testament to this truth. This deeply personal and widely acclaimed poem, first published in 1983, offers a poignant exploration of displacement through the innocent eyes of a child. It recounts the author’s own childhood experience of fleeing the Dominican Republic, a narrative that resonates globally for its honest and evocative depiction of loss, adaptation, and the enduring search for belonging. As we delve into “Exile,” we uncover not just a story of migration, but a universal reflection on how our origins shape who we become, even when those origins are forcibly left behind.

Understanding the Core of “Exile”

At its heart, “Exile” narrates the traumatic experience of a young girl and her family as they are compelled to leave their homeland, Ciudad Trujillo, under the shadow of a curfew. The poem’s central idea revolves around the profound and lasting impact of forced migration, particularly on a child’s understanding of home and identity. The parents, in a desperate attempt to shield their children from the harsh reality, frame the escape as a “vacation to the beach.” This innocent deception, however, is constantly undermined by the adults’ worried whispers, hurried preparations, and “phony laughter,” which the perceptive child protagonist instinctively senses as “off.”

The journey itself is fraught with tension, moving from covert back roads to a “dark, deserted airport.” The arrival in the United States brings a new set of challenges: a struggle to adapt to an unfamiliar culture and a profound sense of alienation. The speaker observes her father’s efforts to explain the “wonders” of their new city, but beneath the surface of discovery lies a persistent yearning for what they left behind. “Exile” beautifully illustrates the challenges of maintaining one’s identity while navigating a foreign land, highlighting themes of displacement, loss, alienation, and the bittersweet confusion of childhood.

A Deep Dive into “Exile”: An Analysis of Literary Craft

Julia Alvarez masterfully employs a rich tapestry of literary and poetic devices to imbue “Exile” with its emotional depth and lasting impact. These techniques allow readers to experience the journey not just as observers, but as participants in the child’s evolving understanding of her world.

Vivid Imagery: Painting a Picture of Departure and Arrival

Imagery, the use of vivid language to create sensory experiences, is central to the poem’s power. Alvarez paints striking pictures that immerse the reader in the child’s perspective.

“at a curfew darkened Ciudad Trujillo,”

This line immediately establishes a somber, ominous atmosphere, hinting at the political unrest driving the family’s flight. The contrast between the parents’ fabricated “beach” story and the reality is starkly drawn through visual details:

“her red eyes belying her explanation:

a week at the beach so Papi can get some rest.

She dressed us in our best dresses, party shoes.”

The mother’s “red eyes” betray her true emotions, while the “best dresses, party shoes” underscore the tragic irony of dressing for a joyous occasion when fleeing for safety. Later, the imagery shifts to the new world, highlighting its foreignness:

“blond hair and blue eyes: a genetic code.”

This detail emphasizes the cultural and physical differences encountered, marking the family as distinct “visitors.” The poem concludes with a powerful image of reflection:

“we saw our reflections superimposed, big-eyed, dressed too formally, with all due respect, as visitors to this country.”

This visual encapsulates their sense of otherness and their struggle to reconcile their past with their present.

Symbolism: The Shifting Meanings of Home and Escape

Alvarez skillfully uses symbolism, where objects or ideas represent something else, to deepen the poem’s themes.

• The Beach: Initially presented as a symbol of vacation and carefree joy, the “beach” quickly transforms into a symbol of escape, deception, and ultimately, loss. It is the destination that is never reached in the way the children imagine, becoming a metaphor for the lost innocence and the homeland left behind.


• Swimming/Floating: The act of swimming or floating is a recurring motif and a powerful symbol. The child’s ability to “stay awake, floating out” in the car, imagining herself in “deep waters,” symbolizes her subconscious processing of the journey. Later, her “fitful sleep” at the airport where she “swam” suggests her mind grappling with the overwhelming changes. The final image of “two swimmers looking down at the quiet surface of our island waters” symbolizes the family’s uncertain plunge into a new life, a journey into the unknown.


• Reflections: The reflections seen in the Macy’s window symbolize the family’s dual identity and their perception of themselves as outsiders. They see themselves as “visitors,” distinct from the idealized American family, highlighting their alienation and the cultural gap they must bridge.

Allusion: A Moment of Profound Vulnerability

Allusion, an indirect reference to another work or event, is used powerfully to convey the child’s vulnerability and the gravity of the situation.

“my arms outstretched like Jesus on the cross,”

This poignant comparison elevates the child’s experience to one of profound sacrifice and helplessness. It evokes images of suffering and a sense of being carried towards an unknown fate, mirroring the family’s predicament and the child’s innocent yet deep understanding of their vulnerability.

Diction: The Power of Word Choice

Alvarez’s precise and evocative diction, or word choice, creates a powerful emotional impact and shapes the poem’s tone.

• Words like “worried whispers” and “phony laughter” immediately convey the underlying tension and the parents’ desperate attempts to maintain a facade of normalcy. The adjective “grim” describing Papi at the wheel reveals his true emotional state, contrasting sharply with the fabricated cheer.


• The phrase “set adrift” powerfully encapsulates the feeling of being unmoored and disconnected from their roots, a central theme of exile. The description of the airport as “dark, deserted” amplifies the sense of isolation and uncertainty surrounding their departure.


• In the new city, the child “marveling at America” captures a mix of wonder and bewilderment, while being “dressed too formally” as “visitors” underscores their sense of not quite belonging.

Tone: A Shifting Emotional Landscape

The poem’s tone is complex and multifaceted, skillfully shifting to reflect the child’s evolving emotional journey. It begins with a tone of innocent confusion, as the child senses “Something was off” but cannot grasp the adult implications. This shifts to a tone of dawning realization and apprehension, particularly as they approach the airport and the “loss much larger than I understood.” In the new country, the tone becomes one of bittersweet adaptation, marked by both wonder at the new “wonders” and a lingering sadness and alienation, as they “tried hard to feel luckier than we felt.” The overall tone is honest and vulnerable, allowing readers to deeply connect with the emotional complexities of exile.

Sound Devices: Subtle Rhythms and Moods

Alvarez uses various sound devices to enhance the poem’s musicality and emotional resonance.

• Assonance: The repetition of vowel sounds within words creates a subtle internal rhythm. For example, the long ‘e’ sound in “On the way to the beach, you added, eyeing me” draws attention to the deception and the child’s growing awareness. The repetition of the short ‘i’ sound in “Papi grim at the wheel, winding through back roads” subtly reinforces the tension and urgency of their journey.


• Alliteration: The repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning of words can create emphasis or a particular mood. The soft ‘w’ sound in “we wouldn’t see each other again for another decade” subtly underscores the finality of their departure and the long separation. The repeated ‘s’ sound in “his eyes scanned the horizon as if trying to sight a distant swimmer” creates a sense of searching and longing.


• Consonance: The repetition of consonant sounds within words, often at the end, contributes to the poem’s texture. The ‘r’ sound in “Papi, you turned, your eyes scanned the horizon” creates a sense of urgency and a searching gaze. The ‘n’ sound in “more danger than the deep end of the pool” subtly hints at the unspoken perils the family faces.

Enjambment: Flowing Thoughts and Continuous Movement

Enjambment, the continuation of a sentence or phrase from one line to the next without a pause, creates a flowing rhythm that mirrors the continuous, often fragmented, nature of the journey and the child’s thoughts.

“So as we quietly filed out of the house

we wouldn’t see each other again for another decade,”

This enjambment propels the reader forward, emphasizing the swift, irreversible nature of their departure. Similarly, the description of the car journey uses enjambment to convey continuous motion:

“floating out, past the driveway, past the gates,

in the black Ford, Papi grim at the wheel,

winding through back roads, stroke by stroke,

out on the highway, heading toward the coast.”

The lines flow seamlessly, mimicking the relentless movement of the car and the family’s forced progression into the unknown.

Free Verse and Stanza Structure: An Organic Narrative

“Exile” is written in free verse, meaning it does not adhere to a strict rhyme scheme or metrical pattern. This choice allows Alvarez to create a natural, conversational tone, making the narrative feel authentic and immediate. The absence of rigid form enables the poem to follow the organic flow of memory and emotion, emphasizing the poem’s emotional content over strict poetic conventions. The poem consists of seventeen stanzas, varying in length. This varied stanza structure contributes to the poem’s organic, narrative feel, allowing Alvarez to control pacing and emphasis, much like a storyteller.

The Enduring Resonance of “Exile”

Julia Alvarez’s “Exile” is a powerful and enduring poem that transcends its specific narrative to speak to universal themes of identity, belonging, and the profound impact of change. Through the innocent yet perceptive eyes of a child, Alvarez masterfully uses vivid imagery, poignant symbolism, and precise language to convey the emotional complexities of forced migration. The poem reminds us that even in moments of profound loss and uncertainty, the human spirit continues to navigate new waters, forever shaped by the journey. “Exile” remains an authoritative guide for understanding the nuanced experience of displacement, offering both a window into a personal history and a mirror reflecting the universal search for home.