I'm always hesitant to pan (can you call a Goodreads review a "pan"?) a debut, or a book that functions as a debut, but since there are already a lot of very positive reviews for this here, I figure I can offer a differing opinion. Needless to say, ymmv. Big thanks to Celadon Books for sending me a copy.
I wanted to write something about this because I found it so frustrating. The premise appealed to me — I'm very interested in MeToo and MeToo-type stories, and was particularly intrigued by the fact that this book explored an older exploitative author (a tale as old as time, one the literary world should reckon with more). The execution of the novel, though, left a lot to be desired.
Many, many details or larger plot elements simply weren't believable, which made it hard for me to get involved in the story. Mateo Dominguez, for instance, publishes one hit short story collection ("Happiness") and becomes famous and wealthy, and travels the country giving readings from this same book for years following its publication. Protagonist Tatum speculates that his success is due to him being The Only Latino Writer, and people identifying with his work. But this just isn't plausible. No matter how successful a short story collection might be, even if it won the Pulitzer, no author would be regularly touring on the same book several years later (and it's unlikely they'd get that rich off of it, either. Novels aren't that profitable, for most people, let alone short story collections). It's also simply not true that there weren't other Latinx writers publishing to success and acclaim in the period of the novel (1990s to mid-2000s) or before. While these authors were underrepresented, some did break through, and would especially have broken through to a Latina reader like Tatum: off the top of my head, Sandra Cisneros (who is mentioned frequently in the book! this makes no sense!), Nicholasa Mohr, Esmeralda Santiago. And I do not know nearly as much as I should about this subject. But casting this fictional slimy man as the hero of Latinx literature really rubbed me the wrong way.
Other small details were also historically inaccurate: Dominguez wins the Booker Prize before Americans were eligible for it, Tatum looks at a subway train timer before such things existed, they use smartphones before they probably would have been using them (though that timeline's a little fuzzier). These may sound like trivialities, but as they compound, they make the book seem poorly researched and unreliable. Perhaps some of these errors will be corrected before the final printing.
Most of all, though, the relationships just don't fully scan. Tatum often finds herself in all or majority-white spaces, but instead of investigating the nuances of these situations, the author repeatedly has Tatum say that no one there understands her before she socially isolates herself. I never want to suggest that a writer of color make white characters less racist, etc, but Tatum's isolation makes it hard to really grasp her character. Why not, for instance, have her feel compelled to code-switch at work, have some connections with colleagues there, but feel that the relationships are superficial? In a similar episode, the (male) journalist investigating sexual assault accusations against Dominguez explicitly insults Tatum's intelligence as compared to Dominguez's while interviewing her. I don't think every sex crimes journalist is a saint, but this is just unfathomable to me. Tatum dismisses the investigation, instead choosing to pursue her own exploration of the past. That exploration is fair enough, but she's not the main subject of the article. It's just all very messy.
The novel might have been saved somewhat if her relationship with M. Dominguez (Matteo) was more compelling. He is definitely a sleaze and creep, but their relationship stays static for so much of the book that the story gets a little tedious. And while it's clear that he didn't treat her well, she's not exactly wrong when she tells the journalist that she does seem to have occupied a special place in his life. The way he behaved to her would also never warrant a public investigation, even if it is sleazy. Plenty of bad behavior doesn't rise to that level, but given that we know a rape accusation lingers in the background, this all feels a little muted. I want to stress that I'm not trying to minimize lesser forms of abuse; the novel just doesn't have the nuance to make these incidents feel as uncomfortable and exploitative as they might be in a similar real-life situation.
Ultimately, this book feels like a draft, not the finished product. I often read books that feel like this, and I never place blame on the authors. Editors and publishers should not let books out into the world until they are as polished as possible; the kind of minor errors I referenced above are pretty unconscionable. Again, some of these small things may be corrected, but it certainly seems to me that the novel as a whole needed more thorough editing, and it's a shame it didn't receive that treatment.