Osvaldo Calixto Amador’s To Kill a Cockroach is a deeply personal and philosophical memoir that weaves together themes of identity, survival, and self-acceptance. Through a series of poetic reflections, autobiographical vignettes, and existential musings, the author recounts his life’s journey—from childhood struggles and societal alienation to moments of revelation and healing. Drawing inspiration from To Kill a Mockingbird and Black Beauty, Amador uses their themes of injustice and compassion as a lens to examine his own existence. The book is less about a linear story and more about peeling back layers of experience to reveal the universal quest for love and understanding.

I enjoyed this book’s lyrical, almost dreamlike writing style. Amador tells his story with emotions and sensory details. One passage that lingers in my mind is his recollection of watching To Kill a Mockingbird and his visceral reaction to Atticus Finch’s words about killing blue jays but sparing mockingbirds. His discomfort with this moral distinction spirals into a philosophical dilemma: why kill at all? This moment becomes a metaphor for larger existential questions—who decides what has value and what is deemed expendable? The writing here is raw, reflective, and unapologetically introspective, which makes it both beautiful and unsettling.

Another powerful aspect of the book is its exploration of love and self-acceptance. Amador, a gay man who struggled with societal rejection and personal trauma, writes with haunting honesty about the pain of being an outsider. His connection with animals, particularly the birds and dogs he cares for, becomes a form of redemption. One of the most touching moments is his bond with his dog, Toto, and the grief that follows her passing. His emotions are palpable, and the way he describes love—whether for a pet, a friend, or the self—is heartbreakingly sincere.

The book is brimming with poetic depth. The stream-of-consciousness style can be overwhelming at times. That said, this isn’t a book that’s meant to be read for plot. It’s an experience—sometimes chaotic, sometimes deeply thoughtful. The disjointed nature might frustrate some readers, but for those who appreciate literature that leans more on introspection than structure, it offers a rewarding and emotional ride.

To Kill a Cockroach is for readers who enjoy poetic memoirs, philosophical musings, and emotionally raw storytelling. If you’ve ever wrestled with identity, love, or belonging, this book will speak to you.

Pages: 280 | ASIN : B0CTJ6LJRY