Scan barcode
A review by marigold_fall
Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez
3.0
Told through the vibrant lens of Olga Acevedo, a driven and accomplished Puerto Rican wedding planner for New York City's elite, and her charismatic politician brother, Prieto, Olga Dies Dreaming is an engaging story about how these siblings navigate their careers and love lives while grappling with the haunting specter of their traumatic childhood.
Abandoned at a young age by their mother, Blanca, who dreams of a Puerto Rico free from U.S. imperialism and ardently believes it is her calling to spearhead this liberation, the siblings wrestle with what it means to be left behind, to spend their lives vying for their mother's approval and affection even when it seems an elusive and futile endeavor. Themes of vulnerability, self-identity, and agency appear throughout the book, while in parallel, Xóchitl González zooms out to explore more macro themes about politics, activism, and national identity.
The former is where the book shines; although some of the dialogue occasionally stumbles (Matteo, I'm looking at you), there are beautiful moments where Olga and Prieto reflect on the world around them and the storms raging inside of them. These moments provide the emotional core of the story. Unfortunately, the book becomes uneven when González attempts to use the neocolonialism subplot and the devastating aftermath of Hurricane Maria as catalysts for the siblings to confront their deep-seated hurt and anger toward their mother.
Whenever characters break into detailed, pedantic monologues about a topic - in this case, international relations - it feels like the writer has a lot to say but struggles with how to convey it. There are moments where the captivating history surrounding U.S.-Puerto Rico relations was more seamlessly weaved into the narrative, but it felt jarring and inconsistent at other times.
The story would have benefitted from simpler storytelling as well:.
The broader and more complex Olga Dies Dreaming becomes, the less powerful of a narrative it is.
Abandoned at a young age by their mother, Blanca, who dreams of a Puerto Rico free from U.S. imperialism and ardently believes it is her calling to spearhead this liberation, the siblings wrestle with what it means to be left behind, to spend their lives vying for their mother's approval and affection even when it seems an elusive and futile endeavor. Themes of vulnerability, self-identity, and agency appear throughout the book, while in parallel, Xóchitl González zooms out to explore more macro themes about politics, activism, and national identity.
The former is where the book shines; although some of the dialogue occasionally stumbles (Matteo, I'm looking at you), there are beautiful moments where Olga and Prieto reflect on the world around them and the storms raging inside of them. These moments provide the emotional core of the story. Unfortunately, the book becomes uneven when González attempts to use the neocolonialism subplot and the devastating aftermath of Hurricane Maria as catalysts for the siblings to confront their deep-seated hurt and anger toward their mother.
Whenever characters break into detailed, pedantic monologues about a topic - in this case, international relations - it feels like the writer has a lot to say but struggles with how to convey it. There are moments where the captivating history surrounding U.S.-Puerto Rico relations was more seamlessly weaved into the narrative, but it felt jarring and inconsistent at other times.
The story would have benefitted from simpler storytelling as well:
Spoiler
For example, the mob subplot, during which Olga becomes entangled in a money laundering scheme, did little to enhance the narrative beyond establishing Olga's willingness to compromise her own moralsThe broader and more complex Olga Dies Dreaming becomes, the less powerful of a narrative it is.