len ❀ 's Reviews > Furia

I fight for every ball, and although I don’t always win, no one can say I hold back. I leave my soul on the pitch. I relish what my body can do, appreciate its unorthodox beauty. The eyes of the crowd are on me, and I feel like a goddess.

And that is what this book is about—a girl chasing her dream of fútbol, fighting for every ball, whether that means leaving everyone and everything behind.

Furia, simply, follows Camila "La Furia" Hassan on her journey towards competing for the Sudamericano. At home, she's the expected Argentine daughter, following her mother's rules and staying under her father's roof. Her mother, with her overprotectiveness, hopes for Camila to go to med school, sacrificing herself sewing to makes ends meet, while her father, abusive, machista, and toxic, trains her brother, Pablo Hassan, to become an international soccer star while not batting an eye to what they really want. In the soccer field, she's La Furia, someone competing to give herself that chance of escaping to North America to continue finding her love for the sport. Her determination and motivation are unleashed through the ball, allowing herself to escape into the reality she dreams of.

When her team qualifies for the Sudamericano, Camila believes this is a chance of stepping forward, but there are obstacles that stop her: her parents don't know about her soccer team, let alone the tournament they won; her mother wants her to get into med school while her father believes soccer is for men; and her childhood friend, Diego, has returned home after playing in Italy with Juventus, becoming an international sensation, and Camila's feelings for him only continue growing.

Throughout her journey, we see Camila make heartfelt decisions and decide to choose her own path, the path she has been carving on her own, in order to continue feeling the bliss and joy nothing else in her life has given her.

Furia is about finding your path and doing what you believe is best for you. It is about understanding that life offers us so many opportunities that we are not aware of. It is about understanding that we need to put ourselves first before others. It is about understanding that every sacrifice you have made for your life, for your dreams, are worth it.

La redonda, the ball, obeyed me. She followed me because I treated her well. I cherished her. I treasured her, and most importantly, I let her sing her own song. Energy flowed through my team, and although the game remained scoreless, the North Americans showed signs of fear.

I grew up watching soccer (or football, as some call it). We've always rooted for European teams, regardless of whether the players are European or not. We attended small matches in our city where family members and friends would play. I remember always heading to the matches Sunday mornings with my dad, brother, and mother. We'd watch how our own family members, close friends, and other people we knew yell at each other, almost fight with each other, sharing the same love for the sport.

My dad and I have been rooting for FC Barcelona for as long as I can remember. Although we get disappointed on a daily basis, it's the team that captured our hearts. And even though the national soccer team of my parents country is not...the best...we're still proud of them, of the country, of everyone. Soccer is beautiful, and the power sports have over people is indescribable. Suddenly you forget everything because you are so attached to the one sport, the specific player, yelling at them as if they can hear you.

I played soccer for a while, but I didn't last very long. My position was also defense, mostly because I have asthma and was unable to run as much as my forward teammates, but also because, apparently, I was violent. Nothing better than being put in a position due to your anger issues, huh? The love I had for playing the sport didn't last long, but the love I have for international sensations will always be there.

Furia features the character I wish I had all along close to me, but Furia is also creating light for girls who don't believe in themselves, who want to give up just like I did when I was young.

Thank you Yamile Saied Mendez, for finally giving us a book where the younger versions of us can see ourselves in.

Fútbol could do that—make people forget about the price of the dollar, the upcoming elections, even their love lives. For a few hours, life was beautiful.

Furia, without a doubt, is one of my favorite books of 2020, regardless of its 4-star rating. The only problem, similarly to others, is the length of the book. There was so much more left to explore, from the romance, to the family dynamics, to the journey Camila was running through. With that being said, there is so much about Furia that was appreciated.

Camila's tendency to never give up is inspiring. She knows about the obstacles in her life, the pebbles and rocks getting in her way, the borders stopping her from jumping. She lives a double life, hiding her identity of a female soccer player, and you can feel the agony and sadness she feels of having to hide herself, her passion, and her talent. The constant belief that such a sport is for men and that women weren't raised marimachos (lesbians) contributes to the stigmatizing stereotypes of fútbol, women, and sports in general. Camila's family dynamics, relationship with Diego, and friendships were so realistic, it felt as if I was somehow in Rosario witnessing the injustice she had to go through, the challenges she faced, and the important decisions she had to take.

Although romance is a central part of the plot, it isn't the entire focus. Nonetheless, the relationship between Cami and Diego is one to root for. La Furia and her equal, el Titán, struggle to piece each other together as they struggle with understanding each other's dreams and hopes, but Camila knows that she needs to leave everyone, including Diego, the boy she grew to love, in order to catch her dreams. I was rooting for both of them, even if I knew there was no hope. Camila had given up so much to get to where she was at, and it was beautiful yet saddening to see how she chose her life instead of his. As much as I wanted to see more of them together, Camila made a rebound, making the choice she believed was right for herself and not for others.

I was a barefoot schoolgirl in my barrio apartment; he was a star flashing past us all, and the glow would disappear with him when he left again.

Although not descriptive, the book doesn't shy away from strong topics, especially the ¡Ni una menos! movement that is not only in Argentina, but also in Mexico, Chile, and other countries. The movement of NUM is a movement of justice for missing girls, missing women, and the author's intention of grabbing the audience's attention for it was clear. Argentina is struggling with rights and protections for women. Latin America as a whole is known, in ways, for its abuse and unfair treatment of women. I appreciated not only that but also the author's intention of providing the message that women are not who many think they are. They are strong, talented, and optimistic. Coach Alicia, Camila's coach, in particular, proved this to me. She made sure to continue always uplifting her players, making sure each and every one of them knew they were in the field not for others but for themselves. At its core, this story provides themes of feminism, women's rights, and justice.

Daring to play in this tournament is a rebellion, chicas. Not too long ago, playing fútbol was forbidden to women by law. But we’ve always found a way around it. Those who came before us played in circuses, in summer fairs, dressed as men. How many of you had to quit when you were around twelve, the same age as Eda, just because you dared to grow up?

Along with that, there are themes of betrayal, friendship, love, anger, sadness, friendship, teamwork, rivalry, agony, and so much more. Camila's relationship with her parents, specifically, tugged at my heart. While I was not able to relate to her relationship with her family, I was able to relate to her in how sometimes, your parents don't entirely know you well when they think they are doing the best for you but in reality, are doing what they believe is best for them. It is common in Latin American culture for children to follow the paths their parents carved out for them, and Camila is trying to break that cycle. She has a vivid imagination of what she wants to do, but her mother, father, and even brother ignore it, not understanding that she really isn't like other girls. It was beautiful to see how her growth developed.

With her father, the theme of machismo is clear on every page that Cami's dad is in. Machismo tradition will sadly, most likely, not die from Latino culture for a while. The constant belief that the man is the man of the house, that men don't cry, that men were made for the harsh realities, that women are for the house, that women don't play sports, they cook, that women are sensitive and men are strong—it's effective. Camila's dad was toxic and abusive, and his manipulative tendencies are clear with his words. He insults Camila without knowing he does, sharps knives slowly being thrown through her heart, piercing her with every word he says.

Our family was stuck in a cosmic hamster wheel of toxic love, making the same mistakes, saying the same words, being hurt in the same ways generation after generation. I didn’t want to keep playing a role in this tragedy of errors. I was la Furia, after all. I’d be the one to break the wheel.

With that being said, Furia is beautiful. It is an art piece that shows justice and strength. It is a love story while it is not. It carries love not only for someone but for an object. It shows the truth of dedication and determination, of sacrifices. It shows the importance of love, but also of the love of women. It shows the realities women went through in order for other women to have a better future, a brighter generation.