Muñeca by Cynthia Gomez
Muñeca book cover
Big thanks to G. P. Putnam’s Sons and NetGalley for sending
an advanced copy of Cynthia Gomez’s spellbinding Gothic tale Muñeca. I’m
so glad that I read this book, as it came after reading a deeply serious and complicated
book about race and politics. While Muñeca is a short and highly
engaging read, it also features some interesting commentary on race, class, gender
and sexuality, as well as detailing California’s complicated history with the
indigenous people, Spanish land grants and white settlement right before statehood.
In fact, I was amazed at how subtly and deftly Gomez is able to include these
complicated historical elements in a novel that was also fun to read. It’s a
testament to her knowledge and skills as a researcher and writer. Furthermore,
it’s one of the reasons that Muñeca operates on different levels and transcends
typical boundaries in genres. The book was not what I was expecting, but I ended
up loving the character of Natalia, or Nati, Fuentes. Although the book takes
place in 1968 around the Bay Area, when young people flocked to San Francisco,
leaving flowers in their hair, Nati searches for her own tribe, seeking to
define herself through the women in her life. Plus, she’s got such great taste
in music, especially soul and R & B, which features prominently throughout
the book. Furthermore, I loved that as she’s taken on the job of caretaker for Violeta
Miramontes, a young heiress who seems to be locked into a kind of paralysis
that prevents her from speaking or moving, Nati secretly reads her The
Autobiography of Malcolm X covering
it up with a copy of Rebecca, a book about a husband who harbors a
secret from his new wife, while Malcolm X speaks to the kind of
revolutionary spirit that Nati brings to the Miramontes’ estate, seeking to empower
and transform those who are trapped by the oppressive forces of the house. I
really loved Gomez’s subtle signaling about Nati’s character, whether it was
through these book choices or her awesome musical taste in Aretha, Otis, and
Carla Thomas. She just seemed like the kind of character I’d want to hang out
with and listen to records.
Nati is not only really cool, but she’s also thoughtful and
strategic. She takes the job as Violeta’s caretaker because her mother previously
worked for the Miramontes, one of the various Mexican American housekeepers who
populate and maintain the estate. However, as we learn, Nati’s mom also worked
in a factory, organizing her co-workers for better conditions, but ultimately developed
lung cancer, like so many of her co-workers. Through Nati’s reflections on her
mother, we learn that she also considered becoming a teacher but ultimately
worked for the Miramontes to help secure opportunities for Nati. We see her
striving for a better life. Nati’s mom, though, differs from Nati in other
ways. As we learn, Nati’s grandmom is a spiritual healer who has used her ability
to make spells and potions to make money. As a young mother emigrating from
Mexico who struggled to work and care for 2 daughters, she found the spells and
potions a means to an end, not really caring or considering the impact they
might have or how they might be used. Nati’s mother, recognizing that some of
these spells are misused or end up harming others, rejects this way and
ultimately distances herself from her mother. Nati, on the other hand, seeks
out her grandmother as she gradually discovers her own skills and abilities
with spell casting. As Nati begins to explore her newfound sense of self and
seeks her grandmother’s knowledge and insight, her mother finds out and puts a
stop to it. Yet Nati recovers the magic box she threw away and practices in
secret. For Nati, magic and spells are not only a connection to her identity
and culture, but they also serve as a means of empowerment in a society that
deems Latinx women as only fit for work as maids and cooks. While Nati also
pursues a college degree, she can only find work in a bank. Furthermore, Nati’s
mother sought to fight this same system and worked to organize her colleagues
in the factory, only to lose her job and end up working as a maid for the
Miramontes, one of the more powerful landowning families in the Bay Area. And
with Nati’s mother eventually contracting cancer, I couldn’t help but look at
Nati’s pursuit of magic and spells as a means to power and identity outside of
the system that defines and relegates women like her to pre-determined
positions.
The other analogy that Nati’s life and pursuit of magic
follow are the fact that Nati loves women. She never calls herself a lesbian or
gay, which I’m not even sure these terms were used in the 1960s, but her
language to describe her love of women and the kinship she seeks in the house
parties and bars points to something more meaningful than just sexual
attraction. It was really moving to see how powerful and deep her attraction to
women is, and how she realized this from an early age. Similar to the magic, it’s
something that she feels is deeply a part of her identity, but also something
that she feels she needs to keep discrete and somewhat hidden from others who
might not understand. Nevertheless, Nati moves in with Doris, and they frequently
host other women whose families kick them out for their sexuality. Not only
does this subtle example speak to the kind of discrimination and challenges
that people identifying as LGBTQ faced in the 1960s, but it also speaks to the kind
of community they established to support one another. It’s another brilliant,
subtle detail of the book that I found packed in to this brief book, and I was
amazed at how much it conveyed about Nati’s life and character.
The main challenge of Muñeca, though, is focused on
Nati’s care of Violeta and her attempts to break Violeta out of her paralysis,
which Nati believes was induced by a spell. Thus, she uses her own magic in various
attempts to bring Violeta back, enabling her to walk and talk. First, though,
Nati discovers a way to communicate with Violeta through blinking, something
neither Violeta’s mother nor Violeta’s husband, Andrès. We later learn that
Andres’ family fled Cuba during the revolution, leaving their wealth in Cuba,
and ending up in California. As a result, we learn that Andrès married Violeta for
her land and family’s wealth, and not for love. Furthermore, Andrès continues
the bad behavior of these kind of wealthy, landowning men who seek out fortune
and other women, while they know their wives must remain silent and faithful at
home, seemingly powerless to divorce or alter their husband’s behavior. We see
this with Mrs. Miramontes, and the cycle repeats with Violeta and Andrès, and
even though Mrs. Miramontes understands the pain and suffering this causes, she
continues to allow Andrès to treat her daughter harshly. Again, Gomez packs so
much into brief reminiscences or memories that not only serve important plot points
but also highlight the kind of gender, social, or class inequalities that existed
at this time and continue to persist in some ways. Despite being a relatively
short book, it’s filled with meaningful events and exchanges that operate
beyond plot points.
Although Nati’s first attempts at reviving Violeta fail, she
finds a way to transfer Violeta’s spirit temporarily to the body of a doll,
which seems is partly where the title of the book comes from (Muñeca is Spanish
for doll). I also wondered if the title was partly a reference to the roll of
dolls, and how they are often silent toys who represent ideals of beauty and
dress for women. They can often be shaped and altered to fit the owner’s
desires and goals but have no autonomy or agency of their own. Similar to her
work to free Violeta, Nati gives new power and life to the doll, bringing some
sense of agency and the ability to communicate to someone who was largely
ignored and relegated to a room of her own. We also learn that part of Nati’s
concern for Violeta is that she is in love with Violeta. As Nati experiments
with different ways to attempt to break the spell, she finds new ways for
Violeta to experience the freedom of inhabiting different bodies, one of which
is Nati’s. Nati develops a spell to switch bodies temporarily. I loved this
kind of creativity, and how Violeta leaves Nati letters and notes before she
returns to her paralyzed self. It’s an inventive element of the story and
creates both tension and romance as the two women briefly become one, enabling
each to inhabit the lived life of the other.
I loved this book and couldn’t put it down. The chapters are
short, and this kept me reading, wanting to find out more about how Nati’s plan
to rescue Violeta was going. This book was recommended to me based on my
interest in Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s other books, most notably The Bewitching.
I can see how Muñeca shares some similar themes with The Bewitching,
including strong Latinx female protagonists willing to challenge male dominated
and aristocratic, traditional families who seem to control large portions of
society. Both books also feature elements of spells and magic used to gain
power and access. However, I also kept thinking of Isabel Cañas’s book Vampires
of El Norte, which also contains strong Mexican female protagonists who are
seeking to challenge land rights that largely prevented women from being landowners
at the time. Muñeca is a great book to add to growing collection of
books by writers like Garcia-Moreno and Cañas, yet it’s also unique and beautiful.
Although it’s a relatively short book with brief chapters, it will keep readers
engaged, and there’s so much depth and meaning to the various details in the
story. It’s also steeped in wonderful Gothic details and decay, and some really
amazing magic spells. It’s a wonderful, fun, and exciting read, and something
that should appeal to a broad range of readers, but especially those who like a
good Gothic story featuring magic. Highly recommended!
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