Olga Dies Dreaming

Ambitious. Gonzalez packs a lot into her first novel: parental abandonment, U.S. colonialism, revolutionary politics, minority & women's & LGBTQ rights, corruption, shallowness, economic inequality, love, forgiveness. It didn't always work for me but it was a hell of a ride, and kudos to her for aiming high.

The story was compelling, even though there is little I find as shallow as elaborate weddings or people whose day can be ruined by the wrong napkins or colors. Somehow, here, I cared. (About the people. Not about the napkins.) The timeline progression was effective: JULY 2017 on the opening page, and every Puertorican reader starts getting chills: we know what's coming. Then August, then September, everyone acting all normal, because what could they know then of Hurricane María, and that somehow makes the tension more painful.

The maternal epistles, though, interspersed throughout, they felt clumsy, like a quick tool to get some exposition out of the way. Nobody writes like that. Nobody talks like that, either, in the infrequent preachy revolutionary-radical-speech parts. The characters are... how about one-and-three-quarter dimensional? Simple and predictable for the most part, smart and sassy and well-intentioned with periodic attempts—some more successful than others—at nuance and complexity. The relationships between them didn't always make sense, especially some of the attractions, but I guess attractions don't always make sense IRL either.

Sometimes five-star material, sometimes three. Mostly sweet, loving, with important (albeit unsubtle) messages. As you know, I'm OK with all of those. I enjoyed it, and am curious what non-Puertoricans will think of it. (Katie, we're due for lunch!)