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Sister Chicas
Taina 's turning fifteen-and is so dreading her Pepto-pink quinceañera, her Sweet Fifteen.What about her secret Jamaican artist boyfriend? Should she let Mami choose her escort, or follow her heart-and ignite a family riot?
Grachi must choose between being the good Chicana-and grabbing la oportunidad de la vida . Now she needs her Sister Chicas more than ever...
Leni 's the rebel-with a punk style and an attitude to go with it. But as she tries to make sense of her roots with her Chicas, her life gets more complicated, especially when her childhood friend turns into a handsome rockero...
And even though Taina,Grachi, and Leni don't always agree on things-like boys, clothes, and music-nothing gets in the way of their friendship.
Grachi must choose between being the good Chicana-and grabbing la oportunidad de la vida . Now she needs her Sister Chicas more than ever...
Leni 's the rebel-with a punk style and an attitude to go with it. But as she tries to make sense of her roots with her Chicas, her life gets more complicated, especially when her childhood friend turns into a handsome rockero...
And even though Taina,Grachi, and Leni don't always agree on things-like boys, clothes, and music-nothing gets in the way of their friendship.
264 pages, Paperback
First published April 4, 2006
3 people are currently reading
99 people want to read
About the author
Lisa Alvarado
7 books6 followersLisa Alvarado is an educator, poet, novelist, and journalist. She is the founder of La Onda Negra Press, and is author of Reclamo and The Housekeeper’s Diary, originally a book of poetry and now a one-woman performance. Her first novel, Sister Chicas (written with Ann Hagman Cardinal and Jane Alberdeston) was bought by Penguin/NAL, and released in April 2006. Sister Chicas is a coming of age story concerning the lives of three young Latinas living in Chicago. Sister Chicas won 2nd place Best First Novel in English (Latino Literacy Now/2007) Her book of poetry, Raw Silk Suture, is the newest release by Floricanto Press, and was reviewed by Rigoberto Gonzalez.
She has curated multimedia exhibits and mounted her own multimedia piece, Reclamo in the Pilsen art corridor in Chicago; and is currently a contributor to the nationally touring exhibit, Re-imagining the Distaff Toolkit, curated by Ricki Solinger/SUNY. Lisa is the recipient of grants from the Department of Cultural Affairs, The NEA, and the Ragdale Foundation. In 2009, Lisa was honored as one of seven Hispanic Authors of the Year for the State of Illinois.
She has curated multimedia exhibits and mounted her own multimedia piece, Reclamo in the Pilsen art corridor in Chicago; and is currently a contributor to the nationally touring exhibit, Re-imagining the Distaff Toolkit, curated by Ricki Solinger/SUNY. Lisa is the recipient of grants from the Department of Cultural Affairs, The NEA, and the Ragdale Foundation. In 2009, Lisa was honored as one of seven Hispanic Authors of the Year for the State of Illinois.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
June 12, 2008
This is my humble review of Sister Chicas...
There’s a moment early in Sister Chicas where Graciela, the oldest of three closely knit Latinas calling themselves the Sister Chicas, has just been invited to a prestigious writing retreat. Always the responsible one — the one who juggles college classes, a part-time job at a Pilsen bookstore, tutoring, and being the model daughter for her loving parents — Graciela reacts to the invite with a mixture of surprise, joy, and guilt. Mostly guilt. Because in her mind, writing is a pastime, a divertido (an enjoyment). It’s not something a hard-working Latina intent on helping her people should waste her time with.
This moment had a lot of resonance for me, as a writer and as a Latino. Partly because I think most writers, at one point or another, ponder and brood over the social relevance of their chosen profession. But mostly because Graciela’s brief crisis of faith goes to the very heart of what it means to be a writer, especially a writer of color. Like her friend Don Ramiro helps her realize, writing isn’t just an enjoyment, because writing results in books. “Books that challenge and inspire, books that stir hearts and minds,” Graciela reflects. And such it is with Sister Chicas, an inspiring and insightful novel written by Lisa Alvarado, Ann Hagman Cardinal, and Jane Alberdeston Coralin.
Sister Chicas centers around an upcoming quienceañera (the Latin-American Sweet 16, a coming of age party for girls reaching their 15th birthday). The 15-year-old-to-be is Taina, a shy Puerto Rican girl being raised by her somewhat demanding single mom. Fortunately for Taina, she has two sisters — her non-biological Sister Chicas. There’s Graciela, the aforementioned no-nonsense Chicana and unofficial big-sister figure of the group. And there’s Leni, the ‘middle child’ among them, a half Puerto Rican girl who parades in full punk regalia, including orange/green/burgundy colored spiked hair. The three call themselves the Sister Chicas because of their strong sister-like bond, cemented every week over a warm café con leche at a little café called El Rinconcito de Sabor.
Good thing they’re close, too. Because the mousy Taina doesn’t even want a quienceañera, and needs her sisters to confront and get through that whole coming-of-age thing. And, as it turns out, she’s not the only one needing help in facing a daunting life change. Graciela, whose tireless dedication to her community borders on self-martyrdom, has to overcome her guilt and embrace the possibility that being a good writer and being a good Chicana aren’t mutually exclusive. Leni, partially alienated from her Puerto Rican roots, faces the challenge of reconnecting with them, no small feat given her full immersion in American punk counter-culture. Add to all of this their respective struggles with finding love—or more precisely, admitting that they’ve found love with their respective others, Yusef, Jack, and Carlos—and, well, these girls certainly have their work cut out for them.
And so, the novel takes on these many challenges through three separate but interwoven first-person narratives. Taina, Graciela, and Leni take turns telling their parts of the story, and each of their voices proves appropriately distinct. Taina, the mousy 14-year-old poet, speaks with the insecurity and wonder of a girl who has yet to find her own voice, especially when it comes to contradicting her mother (which she typically doesn’t). Graciela, the 19-year-old aspiring writer, maintains a façade of big-sister control even as she struggles with her own internal doubts and guilt, and her introspective writing reflects this. And Leni, the 17-year-old punk girl, is the most in-your-face and funniest of the three narrators, and certainly the most cynical and least forgiving, even with herself.
These three distinct but similar girls are the Sister Chicas, and their story of mutual support on their way to the quienceañera is compelling and heart-warming. Considering the collaborative nature of this novel, I think Alvarado, Cardinal, and Coralin did an amazing job of creating a cohesive narrative out of three separate perspectives. Each part of the story flows into the next seamlessly, reflecting just how strongly interwoven the lives of these three characters really are. And the affection the girls share with one another seems well-conceived, sincere, and inviting. To the point where I find myself wanting the three authors to craft a prequel and share the story of how these three girls became the Sister Chicas over weekly coffee at El Rinconcito.
The segmented nature of the narrative did expose it to one problem. Each girl faces a crisis — both a coming-of-age crisis, and a love crisis. And while Taina’s crises seem the most consistent and central to the book, some of the other crises — including Graciela and Leni’s struggles to admit their feelings regarding their significant others — seem less so. Indeed, there’s almost a sense that a few of these later crises are added in to balance things out and give each girl their requisite suffering. And if the novel had been longer and been able to dedicate more time to each, this wouldn’t have been an issue. But the tense drama surrounding many of their challenges — Taina’s confrontation with her mom, Graciela’s confrontation with her dad, and Leni’s confrontation with her own sense of cultural displacement — seem to find quick, rushed resolution. More than once, as I reached the big moment of resolution expecting a drawn-out scene, the characters reached agreement quickly, almost painlessly. To the point where you almost want to tell these girls, “See? All that worrying, and your mom/dad/culture didn’t even put up that much of a fuss!”
And then there’s the liberal sprinkling of Spanish throughout the text. Now, granted, I’m a native Spanish speaker, and so the numerous interjections of Spanish phrases and words in the middle of English sentences didn’t slow me down. But I have to imagine what reading this book would seem like to a non-Spanish speaker. I think the repeated mixing of Spanish and English can be very demanding to someone who doesn’t understand Spanish, even with the help of the glossary of terms generously provided at the end. And as such, I think it makes the book less accessible to non-Spanish speaking readers.
Which is a pity, because Sister Chicas is a book that should speak to everyone, not just Latino/as. As a slice of the Latino/a experience in the United States (or Chicago, where the book takes place), Sister Chicas doesn’t speak with the didactic authority of a text claiming a uniquely authentic cultural insight (i.e., ‘This is what we Latinas are REALLY like!’). Rather, it speaks softly but stirringly from the heart, engaging us with its touching story about three close friends with the earnest simplicity of a casual chat over at El Rinconcito. It presents an interwoven anecdote about three separate lives converging at a critical moment, and gives us poignant glimpses along the way of things from a Latino/a perspective. And so, the novel allows moments such as this: Leni at the quienceañera, feeling as if the whole thing is one big reality TV show, “Survivor Quienceañera! Three girls, three pairs of dyed-to-match high-heeled shoes, and eight dozen gawking relatives…at the end, who will be left standing?” Clever moments like this, where mainstream imagery is re-invented from a Latino/a perspective, demonstrate how the authors have effectively navigated the treacherous path between two very different but convergent worlds.
For Latino/a readers, Sister Chicas should resonate wonderfully. Because the things and people we have experienced are present in this book in one way or another. At least, I found myself nodding and laughing throughout, recalling instances in my life that rang eerily similar to some in the book, recalling people that seemed straight out of its pages. The portrayals aren’t necessarily representative (indeed, what is representative of an entire group of people as diverse as Latinos/as?), but they are real, and they speak to the vastness and diversity of our shared experience. And so, we meet versions of Latino/as that we haven’t seen too much elsewhere: the timid poet; the aspiring writer; the spiky-haired punk; the rock guitarist; and so on.
Which brings me back to Graciela’s insight about books being challenging, inspiring, stirring both hearts and minds. Sister Chicas may not be perfect (what book is?), but it is a wonderful, and necessary, addition to the literary canon, and certainly required reading for any children I might some day have. Because it paints an inspired portrait of the Latino/a experience without being preachy about it. It portrays our strengths, our struggles, our divisions, and our flaws. And it answers its own questions about the validity of writing, not just as a divertido, but as an inspiration. Because we all have stories to tell, even if we’re not all writers. And it’s time we started telling them.
There’s a moment early in Sister Chicas where Graciela, the oldest of three closely knit Latinas calling themselves the Sister Chicas, has just been invited to a prestigious writing retreat. Always the responsible one — the one who juggles college classes, a part-time job at a Pilsen bookstore, tutoring, and being the model daughter for her loving parents — Graciela reacts to the invite with a mixture of surprise, joy, and guilt. Mostly guilt. Because in her mind, writing is a pastime, a divertido (an enjoyment). It’s not something a hard-working Latina intent on helping her people should waste her time with.
This moment had a lot of resonance for me, as a writer and as a Latino. Partly because I think most writers, at one point or another, ponder and brood over the social relevance of their chosen profession. But mostly because Graciela’s brief crisis of faith goes to the very heart of what it means to be a writer, especially a writer of color. Like her friend Don Ramiro helps her realize, writing isn’t just an enjoyment, because writing results in books. “Books that challenge and inspire, books that stir hearts and minds,” Graciela reflects. And such it is with Sister Chicas, an inspiring and insightful novel written by Lisa Alvarado, Ann Hagman Cardinal, and Jane Alberdeston Coralin.
Sister Chicas centers around an upcoming quienceañera (the Latin-American Sweet 16, a coming of age party for girls reaching their 15th birthday). The 15-year-old-to-be is Taina, a shy Puerto Rican girl being raised by her somewhat demanding single mom. Fortunately for Taina, she has two sisters — her non-biological Sister Chicas. There’s Graciela, the aforementioned no-nonsense Chicana and unofficial big-sister figure of the group. And there’s Leni, the ‘middle child’ among them, a half Puerto Rican girl who parades in full punk regalia, including orange/green/burgundy colored spiked hair. The three call themselves the Sister Chicas because of their strong sister-like bond, cemented every week over a warm café con leche at a little café called El Rinconcito de Sabor.
Good thing they’re close, too. Because the mousy Taina doesn’t even want a quienceañera, and needs her sisters to confront and get through that whole coming-of-age thing. And, as it turns out, she’s not the only one needing help in facing a daunting life change. Graciela, whose tireless dedication to her community borders on self-martyrdom, has to overcome her guilt and embrace the possibility that being a good writer and being a good Chicana aren’t mutually exclusive. Leni, partially alienated from her Puerto Rican roots, faces the challenge of reconnecting with them, no small feat given her full immersion in American punk counter-culture. Add to all of this their respective struggles with finding love—or more precisely, admitting that they’ve found love with their respective others, Yusef, Jack, and Carlos—and, well, these girls certainly have their work cut out for them.
And so, the novel takes on these many challenges through three separate but interwoven first-person narratives. Taina, Graciela, and Leni take turns telling their parts of the story, and each of their voices proves appropriately distinct. Taina, the mousy 14-year-old poet, speaks with the insecurity and wonder of a girl who has yet to find her own voice, especially when it comes to contradicting her mother (which she typically doesn’t). Graciela, the 19-year-old aspiring writer, maintains a façade of big-sister control even as she struggles with her own internal doubts and guilt, and her introspective writing reflects this. And Leni, the 17-year-old punk girl, is the most in-your-face and funniest of the three narrators, and certainly the most cynical and least forgiving, even with herself.
These three distinct but similar girls are the Sister Chicas, and their story of mutual support on their way to the quienceañera is compelling and heart-warming. Considering the collaborative nature of this novel, I think Alvarado, Cardinal, and Coralin did an amazing job of creating a cohesive narrative out of three separate perspectives. Each part of the story flows into the next seamlessly, reflecting just how strongly interwoven the lives of these three characters really are. And the affection the girls share with one another seems well-conceived, sincere, and inviting. To the point where I find myself wanting the three authors to craft a prequel and share the story of how these three girls became the Sister Chicas over weekly coffee at El Rinconcito.
The segmented nature of the narrative did expose it to one problem. Each girl faces a crisis — both a coming-of-age crisis, and a love crisis. And while Taina’s crises seem the most consistent and central to the book, some of the other crises — including Graciela and Leni’s struggles to admit their feelings regarding their significant others — seem less so. Indeed, there’s almost a sense that a few of these later crises are added in to balance things out and give each girl their requisite suffering. And if the novel had been longer and been able to dedicate more time to each, this wouldn’t have been an issue. But the tense drama surrounding many of their challenges — Taina’s confrontation with her mom, Graciela’s confrontation with her dad, and Leni’s confrontation with her own sense of cultural displacement — seem to find quick, rushed resolution. More than once, as I reached the big moment of resolution expecting a drawn-out scene, the characters reached agreement quickly, almost painlessly. To the point where you almost want to tell these girls, “See? All that worrying, and your mom/dad/culture didn’t even put up that much of a fuss!”
And then there’s the liberal sprinkling of Spanish throughout the text. Now, granted, I’m a native Spanish speaker, and so the numerous interjections of Spanish phrases and words in the middle of English sentences didn’t slow me down. But I have to imagine what reading this book would seem like to a non-Spanish speaker. I think the repeated mixing of Spanish and English can be very demanding to someone who doesn’t understand Spanish, even with the help of the glossary of terms generously provided at the end. And as such, I think it makes the book less accessible to non-Spanish speaking readers.
Which is a pity, because Sister Chicas is a book that should speak to everyone, not just Latino/as. As a slice of the Latino/a experience in the United States (or Chicago, where the book takes place), Sister Chicas doesn’t speak with the didactic authority of a text claiming a uniquely authentic cultural insight (i.e., ‘This is what we Latinas are REALLY like!’). Rather, it speaks softly but stirringly from the heart, engaging us with its touching story about three close friends with the earnest simplicity of a casual chat over at El Rinconcito. It presents an interwoven anecdote about three separate lives converging at a critical moment, and gives us poignant glimpses along the way of things from a Latino/a perspective. And so, the novel allows moments such as this: Leni at the quienceañera, feeling as if the whole thing is one big reality TV show, “Survivor Quienceañera! Three girls, three pairs of dyed-to-match high-heeled shoes, and eight dozen gawking relatives…at the end, who will be left standing?” Clever moments like this, where mainstream imagery is re-invented from a Latino/a perspective, demonstrate how the authors have effectively navigated the treacherous path between two very different but convergent worlds.
For Latino/a readers, Sister Chicas should resonate wonderfully. Because the things and people we have experienced are present in this book in one way or another. At least, I found myself nodding and laughing throughout, recalling instances in my life that rang eerily similar to some in the book, recalling people that seemed straight out of its pages. The portrayals aren’t necessarily representative (indeed, what is representative of an entire group of people as diverse as Latinos/as?), but they are real, and they speak to the vastness and diversity of our shared experience. And so, we meet versions of Latino/as that we haven’t seen too much elsewhere: the timid poet; the aspiring writer; the spiky-haired punk; the rock guitarist; and so on.
Which brings me back to Graciela’s insight about books being challenging, inspiring, stirring both hearts and minds. Sister Chicas may not be perfect (what book is?), but it is a wonderful, and necessary, addition to the literary canon, and certainly required reading for any children I might some day have. Because it paints an inspired portrait of the Latino/a experience without being preachy about it. It portrays our strengths, our struggles, our divisions, and our flaws. And it answers its own questions about the validity of writing, not just as a divertido, but as an inspiration. Because we all have stories to tell, even if we’re not all writers. And it’s time we started telling them.
February 25, 2011
These authors love metaphors. I like metaphors too, but I think there was one on every other page. Some of them just made no sense. For example, "the room's air suddenly the texture of a daisy touched by a little girl's fingers." (pg. 67). What does that even mean??? They also love emphasizing that these girls are SISTER CHICAS BUT NOT RELATED (in case you didn't get that from the title or the synopsis or the first chapter). Don't let me forget about the flashbacks. Just no. I understand having a few flashbacks here and there to better develop a character, but like metaphors, the flashbacks are overused. They are long and not always important. I think the authors should have tried to show more creative ways of making the same point of the flashback without the chapter long flashbacks. Plus the transitions from past to present were confusing. There were also too many inconsequential details that started to get on my nerves, little statements like "it might be getting dark, but I'm not blind!" (pg. 50) and "force a smile through my black lipstick." (pg. 44) I know that's not really a big deal, but the book was dragging on as it was so I wasn't in the mood for these minor details. Finally, I didn't understand why Taina was so reluctant to have a quinceanera. Or at least, I understood why someone wouldn't want one but she never artfully articulated why SHE did not want one. She just went on and on about Yusef, who we are told is wonderful and they are in love (he's seventeen and going to attend college in Chicago, how perfect. *sorry snappiness*). And why didn't Taina have any friends her own age? Same with Grachi? Leni was a loner but those other two were supposed to be really nice and cheerful...bizarre.
I did appreciate such a strong friendship, and I though the big fight between the girls was genuine. Most importantly each girl made her point clear about why she was upset and the friendship wasn't immediately saved. I really liked Grachi's storyline, feeling so guilty over wanting to pursue her passion even though it wasn't exactly what she thought her parents wanted (or deserved). Maybe I just happened to read her story at the right time in my life, but she was stressed over all her commitments (attending UIC, tutoring, working part-time at a bookstore) and I'm starting to get stressed over various summer program applications/class registrations. None of the girls are particularly noteworthy, but I found Grachi's voice to be the strongest. She has this quote that I could definitely relate to "other Graciela said yes to Phaedra Mondragon. The least she could've done was stick around long enough to help with this. I guess she must've stayed on the train and kept going. There's only me left, and this me is having a hard time with all of this." (pg. 84)The whole two split personalities/two different sides of a person and then watching that side of you/your personality fade to leave you to pick up the pieces? Classic. My favorite part was all the details of Chicago. The setting is present, but it's not big enough to be a character in and of itself. However it's there and I appreciated it. From mentions of the el to the girls attending Whitney Young High School, walking to Logan Square (which is where my Papi grew up is one of my favorite neighborhoods) and waiting for the bus, it made me happy :) I also thought the girls' hangout was described in excellent detail and I wish I had a local cafe like El Rinconcito (there is an actual restaurant in Logan Square called El Rinconcito Cubano), it sounds heavenly. The girls gather there every Thursday to catch up, the sip cafes con leche and chat with the charming owner, Don Ramiro. I'm not sure if all the places mentioned should use the real names though...
Sister Chicas is a genial tale of the close friendship between three girls. While the origin of their friendship is not described in much detail (and I still find it hard to believe that a fifteen year old would be friends with a freshman in college whom she had never met before high school), it is a strong one that faces authentic ups and downs. Each girl has a distinctive personality, one that every girl, Latina or not, can see a little of herself in them. Leni does have some funny moments, although I'm not so sure all the humor will be understand by people who don't know much about Latin culture such as "[I] made it through the round of obligatory dances with my arranged caballero date, Mario, who, by the way, is not a bad dancer. Could have fooled me! Underneath that slicked-back 1950s hair and railroad track of braces beats the rhythm of Tito Puente!" (pg. 228).That made me personally laugh out loud, but I'm not sure it would amuse everyone. Less usage of metaphors, smoother transitions from past to present and less details would make the story flow better. A good chica/chick lit read with the lovely backdrop of diverse Chicago.
I did appreciate such a strong friendship, and I though the big fight between the girls was genuine. Most importantly each girl made her point clear about why she was upset and the friendship wasn't immediately saved. I really liked Grachi's storyline, feeling so guilty over wanting to pursue her passion even though it wasn't exactly what she thought her parents wanted (or deserved). Maybe I just happened to read her story at the right time in my life, but she was stressed over all her commitments (attending UIC, tutoring, working part-time at a bookstore) and I'm starting to get stressed over various summer program applications/class registrations. None of the girls are particularly noteworthy, but I found Grachi's voice to be the strongest. She has this quote that I could definitely relate to "other Graciela said yes to Phaedra Mondragon. The least she could've done was stick around long enough to help with this. I guess she must've stayed on the train and kept going. There's only me left, and this me is having a hard time with all of this." (pg. 84)The whole two split personalities/two different sides of a person and then watching that side of you/your personality fade to leave you to pick up the pieces? Classic. My favorite part was all the details of Chicago. The setting is present, but it's not big enough to be a character in and of itself. However it's there and I appreciated it. From mentions of the el to the girls attending Whitney Young High School, walking to Logan Square (which is where my Papi grew up is one of my favorite neighborhoods) and waiting for the bus, it made me happy :) I also thought the girls' hangout was described in excellent detail and I wish I had a local cafe like El Rinconcito (there is an actual restaurant in Logan Square called El Rinconcito Cubano), it sounds heavenly. The girls gather there every Thursday to catch up, the sip cafes con leche and chat with the charming owner, Don Ramiro. I'm not sure if all the places mentioned should use the real names though...
Sister Chicas is a genial tale of the close friendship between three girls. While the origin of their friendship is not described in much detail (and I still find it hard to believe that a fifteen year old would be friends with a freshman in college whom she had never met before high school), it is a strong one that faces authentic ups and downs. Each girl has a distinctive personality, one that every girl, Latina or not, can see a little of herself in them. Leni does have some funny moments, although I'm not so sure all the humor will be understand by people who don't know much about Latin culture such as "[I] made it through the round of obligatory dances with my arranged caballero date, Mario, who, by the way, is not a bad dancer. Could have fooled me! Underneath that slicked-back 1950s hair and railroad track of braces beats the rhythm of Tito Puente!" (pg. 228).That made me personally laugh out loud, but I'm not sure it would amuse everyone. Less usage of metaphors, smoother transitions from past to present and less details would make the story flow better. A good chica/chick lit read with the lovely backdrop of diverse Chicago.
July 3, 2019
I have to say, I'm crazy about this book; it made me love my own heritage more than I ever knew that I could, and it's opened a door for me to Latinx literature that I don't think I'll ever be able to shut.
Race has never been a boundary for me, and that's been clear because I, as a Mexican-American reader, am expected to find parts of myself within a plethora of characters—many of which, let's face it, are white. Now I want to actively seek out characters who are more like me in the most basic of ways: we come from the same place, we share the same struggles, we carry the same voice.
This novel was amazing in that sense; I identified strongly with each of the three main characters and I found their stories not only to be well-written, but to be honest and authentic—something sorely lacking in novels written by non-Latinx authors who try to write Latinx characters. I often find those characters to be caricatures and an assortment of distorted stereotypes rather than actual, relatable human beings. However, the characters in THIS book were strong and their voices were undeniable, they were so genuine and true to their origin.
I loved the incorporation of Spanish phrases and snippets scattered throughout the narration. They were mixed in almost as much as any English phrase, and I felt like even if a reader didn't have the advantage of speaking the language—as I did, to some extent—that everything was still understandable, because the FEEL of the language came through so clearly. It was also so amazing to see so many discernible Spanish words in the text, because they felt rich and all-encompassing, capturing emotions and descriptions that sometimes English wants for. I thought the representation of Latinx culture was just amazing, and as a Chicanx myself, I can say that it all just radiated pure truth
In my edition of the book, there's a reader's guide included in the back. The first question asks which of the three characters you identified with most and why. I can't answer that question, because all three girls so authentically voiced some piece of my life: Taina had the overbearing, traditional Mom averse to change; Grachi had the tough parents with high expectations to whom she felt indebted because of their continual sacrifice; and Leni struggled with assimilating her Puerto Rican culture with that of her American culture—trying to figure how to reconcile the rocker within her with her homeland and wondering if there is a guy out there who can not only respect her culture, but understand it.
Each girl told beautiful, rich tales of estranged family, cultures overshadowed, first loves, and so much more. I enjoyed the true sisterhood these characters shared, and seeing how they supported each other in more than surface ways. All three storylines—and the ways they intersected and diverged—were so interesting and unique. I loved that there was one author for each voice, because it really helped them to be distinctive and valid, yet they all worked together tremendously.
I really can't say enough about this book; I'm grateful to it for opening my eyes and presenting me with truly identifiable characters that were so representative of who I am—of the Mexican in "Mexican-American." There was humor, heart, and inescapable realism woven through each perspective. I highly encourage all contemporary lovers to embrace this book, because it is beautifully created and an extraordinary coming of age story outside of the traditionally comfortable boundaries of the genre.
Race has never been a boundary for me, and that's been clear because I, as a Mexican-American reader, am expected to find parts of myself within a plethora of characters—many of which, let's face it, are white. Now I want to actively seek out characters who are more like me in the most basic of ways: we come from the same place, we share the same struggles, we carry the same voice.
This novel was amazing in that sense; I identified strongly with each of the three main characters and I found their stories not only to be well-written, but to be honest and authentic—something sorely lacking in novels written by non-Latinx authors who try to write Latinx characters. I often find those characters to be caricatures and an assortment of distorted stereotypes rather than actual, relatable human beings. However, the characters in THIS book were strong and their voices were undeniable, they were so genuine and true to their origin.
I loved the incorporation of Spanish phrases and snippets scattered throughout the narration. They were mixed in almost as much as any English phrase, and I felt like even if a reader didn't have the advantage of speaking the language—as I did, to some extent—that everything was still understandable, because the FEEL of the language came through so clearly. It was also so amazing to see so many discernible Spanish words in the text, because they felt rich and all-encompassing, capturing emotions and descriptions that sometimes English wants for. I thought the representation of Latinx culture was just amazing, and as a Chicanx myself, I can say that it all just radiated pure truth
In my edition of the book, there's a reader's guide included in the back. The first question asks which of the three characters you identified with most and why. I can't answer that question, because all three girls so authentically voiced some piece of my life: Taina had the overbearing, traditional Mom averse to change; Grachi had the tough parents with high expectations to whom she felt indebted because of their continual sacrifice; and Leni struggled with assimilating her Puerto Rican culture with that of her American culture—trying to figure how to reconcile the rocker within her with her homeland and wondering if there is a guy out there who can not only respect her culture, but understand it.
Each girl told beautiful, rich tales of estranged family, cultures overshadowed, first loves, and so much more. I enjoyed the true sisterhood these characters shared, and seeing how they supported each other in more than surface ways. All three storylines—and the ways they intersected and diverged—were so interesting and unique. I loved that there was one author for each voice, because it really helped them to be distinctive and valid, yet they all worked together tremendously.
I really can't say enough about this book; I'm grateful to it for opening my eyes and presenting me with truly identifiable characters that were so representative of who I am—of the Mexican in "Mexican-American." There was humor, heart, and inescapable realism woven through each perspective. I highly encourage all contemporary lovers to embrace this book, because it is beautifully created and an extraordinary coming of age story outside of the traditionally comfortable boundaries of the genre.
March 9, 2009
How I Came To Read This Book: The tiara called out to me from the bargain book table. What can I say?
The Plot: The book is divided up across three character's stories - written by the three co-authors of the book - but the three girls in focus are also improbable friends. Taina is sort of the star of the story (at least in terms of the Tiara) as a girl on the verge of her Quinceanera (the Puerto Rican equivalent of a sweet 16, but with wayyy more tradition involved) - the problemo? Taina has been raised to be prim and proper, but she feels like she should be allowed a little teenage rebellion wiggle room - including her pursuit of a beautiful Jamaican boy she knows her mother won't approve of. Graciella is the eldest, as a freshman in college, and worried that the new romantic and professional opportunities being presented to her won't go over well with her family. Evie is in a typical emo punk phase, and has been since the death of her father. She can't get close to anyone...or something.
The Good & The Bad: I felt like this was a good, wholesome book for YA readers that was also realistic and relatable - especially in terms of the roles family and tradition in certain cultures has for young women today. Unfortunately, sweet and wholesome doesn't necessarily make for good reading (or writing). The story spends way too much time in the past - there are better ways to reveal character development than chapter-long flashbacks. The writing was unimaginative, and the friendship between the girls felt like too much of a stretch - the two older characters Graciella & Evie are Taina's 'bridesmaids' of sorts for her party. Doesn't she have any friends her own age? I Get the book was trying to do a Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants type thing, but it didn't play off as well here. Although I think this is a good book in terms of messaging and appropriateness, I felt like it could have been done so much better.
The Bottom Line: The Dirty Girls Social Club meets Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants - with mixed results.
Anything Memorable?: Nope.
50-Book Challenge?: Book #17 in 2008.
The Plot: The book is divided up across three character's stories - written by the three co-authors of the book - but the three girls in focus are also improbable friends. Taina is sort of the star of the story (at least in terms of the Tiara) as a girl on the verge of her Quinceanera (the Puerto Rican equivalent of a sweet 16, but with wayyy more tradition involved) - the problemo? Taina has been raised to be prim and proper, but she feels like she should be allowed a little teenage rebellion wiggle room - including her pursuit of a beautiful Jamaican boy she knows her mother won't approve of. Graciella is the eldest, as a freshman in college, and worried that the new romantic and professional opportunities being presented to her won't go over well with her family. Evie is in a typical emo punk phase, and has been since the death of her father. She can't get close to anyone...or something.
The Good & The Bad: I felt like this was a good, wholesome book for YA readers that was also realistic and relatable - especially in terms of the roles family and tradition in certain cultures has for young women today. Unfortunately, sweet and wholesome doesn't necessarily make for good reading (or writing). The story spends way too much time in the past - there are better ways to reveal character development than chapter-long flashbacks. The writing was unimaginative, and the friendship between the girls felt like too much of a stretch - the two older characters Graciella & Evie are Taina's 'bridesmaids' of sorts for her party. Doesn't she have any friends her own age? I Get the book was trying to do a Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants type thing, but it didn't play off as well here. Although I think this is a good book in terms of messaging and appropriateness, I felt like it could have been done so much better.
The Bottom Line: The Dirty Girls Social Club meets Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants - with mixed results.
Anything Memorable?: Nope.
50-Book Challenge?: Book #17 in 2008.
October 31, 2010
This book was fun. I liked Taina, Grachi and Leni very much. They were all very strong, intelligent young women who were learning an awful lot about themselves and life. Their families were similar and yet very different. This added a lot of intrigue. I liked the way the book was written from each girls point of view. It told me a lot about them and their families. The ending left me wanting just a little more and feeling like it was not quite over yet. So, that was a little disappointing.
April 5, 2011
Is a good book about Sister Chicas there was three of themselves it starts with Graciela the one that doesn't want to have a 15 party(Quinceñera)that her mom really wants her to have because is a tradition that been in generation in her mom family.
I like this book because is for teenage girls, every girl is going to pass through a moment like this when they want to do her a 15 party(Quinceñera) because she is becoming an adult.
I like this book because is for teenage girls, every girl is going to pass through a moment like this when they want to do her a 15 party(Quinceñera) because she is becoming an adult.
March 24, 2016
My review on this book is a 1/5 because I thought it was terrible, the plot and story line is all over the place and makes no sense to me. It was hard to stay in tune with it and interested in it, the only reason I finished was because it was one of the few books I brought to Europe with me so I really didn't have a choice, but to read it until I found myself a bookstore, which I did the last day!
July 31, 2008
Set in Chicago during the 90's, three young ladies reluctantly prepare for the youngest's quincenara (sorry, no tilde). One of the main character's punk rock lifestyle sent me back 20 years. Three unique perspectives about home, school and life.
this would be great for a high schooler, but is a joyous read for anyone. Comes with a glossary for the less bilingual.
this would be great for a high schooler, but is a joyous read for anyone. Comes with a glossary for the less bilingual.
January 10, 2009
The idea of three writers collaborating on one book was my favorite part about this book! Each author is a different character and they take turns every chapter telling the story in first person from their character's perspective, so unique!
August 6, 2010
I absolutely loved this book. It was funny, honest and came nicely wrapped up with three wonderful authors and three very different points of view with one thing in common: their roots. I appreciate the happy ending.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 17, 2008
Wonderfully written!
October 13, 2008
I got a copy of this book from one of the authors herself and it is perfect for my students in an inner city high school. It's so hard to find realistic, humane books about/ by Latinas.
January 19, 2009
This couldn't have been easy to write. Three authors one story.
May 19, 2011
This book was okay. It was about Latin girls. There were a couple of them and how each one of them were going to have a Quince and one of the girls didnt want one.
I didnt really like.
I didnt really like.
September 20, 2011
Good multicultural book about friendship and the quinceanera tradition, told in three distinct voices.
May 19, 2008
This had a good premise-- American/Latino culture clash, but it was written in a kind of preachy holier-than-thou sort of way. I loved the amount of Spanish incorporated into the text, but I bet it would be annoying for someone who doesn't speak Spanish. The plot is fairly predictable and the character development is lacking-- I think I would have preferred if this wasn't written by three seperate authors each trying to tell the complete story of each of the characters and instead chose to focus on one character more in depth with the other girls as supporting characters, not protagonists.
January 30, 2008
This story addresses what it's like to have two cultures to live in and love. I enjoyed reliving my own past experiences and viewing them from a more mature perspective (mine, not the characters in the story!)
June 19, 2010
Really proud to be Latina!! I love the way the teenage life was portrayed in this book.
August 12, 2010
Nothing flowed in this book. The half Spanish half English got very old. It just lacked a lot of qualities.
Read
May 20, 2011so far is kind of boring but is also interesting.
June 16, 2011
I loved this book. Fascinated by the efforts os these young women to make peace with their Hispanic backgrounds in their American lives. Great variety of voices and characters.
December 1, 2012
Awesome. i liked how all three girls helped each other with their problems. Includes many teen related problems.
June 29, 2013
Loved this!
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