Here is the PDF copy of the Discussion Guide and Letter from the Author
Check out a playlist on Spotify put together by author Ann Dávila Cardinal of Puerto Rican music.
Over the next few tabs, you will find all of the Discussion Questions provided by Big Library Read that go with the title The Storyteller’s Death by Ann Dávila Cardinal.
You can join the discussion on https://discussion.biglibraryread.com/ between July 17th and July 31st, 2025.
Dearest book club friends...
I’m so honored you chose The Storyteller’s Death to read. I hope you got pulled into Isla’s world and see the thick ceiling of palm fronds, hear the two-note call of the tree frogs, and taste the starchy goodness of fried plantain. This novel has a foundation of truth of my own straddling of worlds between Leonia, New Jersey and Bayamón, Puerto Rico and is a love letter to the books I love most, where the thread of magic runs through the entire fabric of life like a glint of silver thread. But it is also a way of paying homage to my own family.
My Puerto Rican family saved my life as a child, and I wanted to capture that feeling, to honor it. To that end, the stories Isla sees are all actual family stories I was raised with. I wanted the tales that haunt her to have a ring of truth, and making them up felt too...convenient. Whenever I would ask my own great-aunt to tell me a story, and she began with “Well, one day the monkeys got loose from the zoo...” she had me— hook, line, and sinker. She would insist they were true, and when a cousin said, “Annie, don’t be silly! The nearest zoo is on the other side of the island,” something of the magic was lost. Eventually I realized I didn’t care if they were true or not; it was the telling that was magic for me.
I’m sorry to say there was no Pedro, at least as far as I knew. The truth is, as I got older and started listening harder, I realized that my beloved great-aunt was a bigot and a classist, qualities that I was raised to disdain. It took me a long time to come to terms with that: How does one love someone so deeply when they have views that go against everything you believe? My writing of this novel and its story of unrequited love was my way of making peace with that, of forgiving her, as she was a woman of another time. And if she’s rolling in her grave? I hope she’ll forgive me right back.
Perhaps this book brings to mind some of your own family stories, and maybe you’ll share them with your clubmates. So, c’mon. Grab a piece of guava cake and a café con leche, settle into a cane rocker chair on the front veranda, and talk por un rato. I’ll be there in spirit!
Ann Dávila Cardinal