Gaspar de Alba appeals to a broad audience in this book, and most chapters draw from historical, Chicanx scholarly work; the author combines both academic and fictional work successfully. There are also various images of beautiful art scattered throughout. Most of the chapters focus on the Mexican American border town identity, specifically El Paso, Texas, and Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua. The author interrogates what it means to be beyond one culture and language; what it means to metamorphosize into something more. A common theme throughout the book is one of being a betrayer or traitor to one’s own people and culture. The meshing and blending of Chicana, Méxicana, Tejana, Latina, and Americana into an identity that is neither here nor there.

The first chapter, Crimes of the Tongue, or, a Malinche Tree Inside Me, is primarily a historical revisioning by the main character, presumed to be the author, about La Malinche as a feminist woman as opposed to “a traitor to her own people” (p. 5). We learn La Malinche was a victim of rape by Hernán Cortés, a Spanish colonizer, and she was betrayed by her mother. Yet, La Malinche used her own intellect and skill in multiple languages to survive. The author argues she was not a traitor; but rather her actions were a result of multiple betrayals, such as being given into slavery and being a victim of rape. La Malinche may have helped the Spanish conquistadores not necessarily because she was against her own people, but as a means of survival. Similarly, Gaspar de Alba argues that even though La Malinche is seen as the mother of mestizaje— someone with both Indigenous and Spanish blood—and the betrayer her own people, she is used as a scapegoat rather than the Mexicans admit their defeat by the Spanish.

The second chapter, The Border Beat, 1921, is a fictional narrative. The main character, Alberto Morales, a milkman, is dehumanized while trying to get a better job opportunity as a reporter at The El Paso Herald. Without his wife Rosemary expressing her frustrations and support, he would have never felt qualified enough to apply for the job. Yet, upon Alberto’s arrival, the boss, Mr. Gaines, needs proof of his Americanness with a birth certificate even though he had presented his high school diploma. Colorism and racism play a role here. Alberto also talks about Rosemary, who is biracial and can pass as white; this is not an advantage he has. This chapter also presents a theme of all Mexicans being the same regardless of citizenship and education status. As Mr. Gaines says, “You look like them” (pg. 25). Mr. Gaines and the editor-in-chief, Mr. Corbitt, ask if Alberto speaks and writes English, again denying him his Americanness. Both Mr. Gaines and Mr. Corbitt suggest applying for a job in Ciudad Juárez even though he doesn’t write in Spanish; again, assuming all Latinx are the same. Alberto finally agrees to being a research specialist for another reporter, referred to as Peters, but only after successfully negotiating for higher pay. He worries he will be betraying his people by being this insider they want. Thus, this theme of being a vendido or traitor, like the previous chapter, comes up again. Even though Alberto accepts the job, his co-worker Peters steals and plagiarizes the piece he wrote years ago, and Peters also gets The Border Beat column to himself. This is all ironic given that Mr. Gaines does not consider Alberto either worthy or qualified enough for the reporter position, and yet it is his words that will be published under the guise of a so-called “objective” (p. 23) white man, Peters, instead of Alberto with his “bean-brained opinions” (p. 29). Perhaps more glaring, Mr. Gaines still wants proof of Alberto’s citizenship before finalizing his job contract.

Chapter 3, Ten Fronteriza Meditations on La Llorona, captures themes of betrayal and abandonment. The main character, Alicia, states, “I was born in the occupied territory north of the Rio Grande, land of the betrayer and betrayed” (p. 32). Alicia is abandoned by her mother at an early age first due to her busy job, and then after her mother’s divorce. She ends up living with her father’s parents. “La Llorona was my mother . . .” (p. 35), she states. Similarly, in Juárez the women murdered in 1993 are betrayed by the government and border society. Their many femicides are ignored. Only their mothers and activists cry for them like La Llorana did for her children. These poor, young, and dark-skinned women were subjected to horrible, painful deaths. The Juárez women, as they are often referred to, were often sterilized at work. Their employers controlled their bodies and considered them inhuman. Rather than invest in safety protocols to keep the women alive, they invested in control; the women were treated as objects and dehumanized. This chapter also portrays themes of arbitrary border lines set by the government, first with the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo in 1848, and then in 1964 with the Chamizal Treaty that returned some of the stolen land, El Chamizal, to Mexico. Alicia also faces an identity crisis as confusion is raised by the “cultural schizophrenia . . . that happens to someone who grows up in the borderlands” (p. 37). Somehow forbidden to speak English at home, but only allowed to speak English at school. Somehow both Mexican and American all at once or not at all. With the passage of the Chamizal Treaty, the clinic Alicia was born in was now a part of Mexico, so why did she have to identify as American to the Border Patrol agent at the border checkpoint? How was she both Mexican but not, and American but not? Such confusion creates identity issues, which are a common theme of this book.

Chapter 4, The Mystery of Survival, begins rather ruthlessly with the main character, Xochitl, being brutally harassed and raped by her stepfather. This causes Xochitl and her mother to move to her aunt’s house, since the stepfather no longer allows Xochitl to stay there, perhaps plagued by his disgusting, vicious acts. Perhaps more alarming is Xochitl’s mother’s response, “You think you hurt now . . . later you’ll know what real suffering is” (p. 56). They prepare for their long three-day travel from Querétaro to her mom’s cousin Lucía’s home near the border in Juárez. Xochitl says, “I understood then that the same thing that happened to snakes could happen to people” (p. 59). In other words, it was possible for people to shed their old skin, which in this case was Xochitl leaving her life behind for a new city closer to family. Upon arrival at Lucía’s shack, Xochitl passes out and awakens with fear that she will be hurt by Lucia’s father; this displays the fear of men she now has due to the pain she endured. Her mother tells her to never repeat and expose this terrible secret again, or La Llorona will come for her and drown her. Perhaps her mother is ashamed she allowed this to happen, because she tells Xochitl, “You embarrassed me in front of Lucía” (p. 66). Then one of Xochitl’s fears is realized when her mother explains she is leaving to cross the border to the U.S.; the feelings of abandonment are raised. Her mother states she will visit her each Sunday, and once Xochitl turns 15, she should have her green card, and they can both live in the U.S. Her mother tells her she will learn English from Doña Ines, who is both a curandera and owns an English teaching school. Thus, learning English is a survival tactic and a way back home to her mother.

Chapter 5, Mujeres Necias/Decolonial Feminists Unite! Dorothy Schons and Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, is a scholarly piece on the history of decolonial feminists, starting with Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, a 17th-century nun. She is one of the first, if not the first, feminist of her time. Sor Juana wrote a famous poem entitled “Political Satire,” about needy, complaining men who like accusing women without reason and for their own wrongdoings or “hombres necios que acusaís/a la mujer sin razón.” The narrator sought to write a historical fiction novel on Sor Juana and did plenty of research and read all the translations and Sor Juana’s own words in Spanish. While conducting her research, the narrator encounters work by Dorothy Schons. Schons was the first scholar to write about the importance of Sor Juana, also known as the first sorjuanista, but her novel remained unpublished. The narrator challenges the argument that Octavio Paz was the first to study and write about Sor Juana; much of his work pulled from Schons, but, since her work remained unpublished, many did not give her proper credit. While Schons maintains Sor Juana was a suffragist and fought against the patriarchy of her time, the narrator argues Schons too was a suffragist. Impressively Schons was the first woman in Texas to get a Ph.D. and the first woman Ph.D. in the Romance languages field in the entire country. Schons too faced many struggles for being a woman; her work was neither respected nor valued because it was about a Mexican woman, and Schons was ultimately fired after not being granted tenure. Shortly after being fired, she ended her own life. Schons unfortunately did not stand a chance against the sexist men scholars in her department who greatly undermined her work. Through Schons we learn that Sor Juana joined the convent because she sought to “write, read and publish whatever she wanted . . . ” (p. 91) and because Sor Juana sought to “inhabit a gender-neutral state” (p. 92). The narrator suggests Sor Juana may have been queer. This resulted in Sor Juana being nearly excommunicated by the church. Sor Juana sought equality for women by committing rebellious acts of her time. Thus, the narrator argues, both Sor Juana and Dorothy Schons were decolonial feminists who were “otherized” due to them both speaking and creating their narratives in a way that examines and critically engages with racial and gender disparities and inequalities.

Chapter 6, The Piñata Dream, begins with a main character named Xochitl Maria Espinosa, often referred to as Mary. The setting is in Iowa City. Mary decides to meet with a Tarot dream interpreter, known as Hazel Eaves. Even though Mary herself was a writer, she struggled to fill out the questionnaire that would help Hazel interpret her dreams. Hazel referred to the unconscious mind as “Pandora’s Jungle,” and this was also the name of her business (p. 102). Since Mary was unable to write her dream due to “writer’s block,” she decides to verbally discuss her dream with Hazel (p. 103). In Mary’s dream she is a young girl of 8 or 9 years. Her mother dresses her for a birthday party across the border in Juárez. In her dream, Mary is not thrilled about this party, but her mother forces her to go. She then notices a piñata right at the bridge of the border in the shape of a star. They then head toward the colonias, or the poorest communities across the border. As Mary gets closer, she begins to hear the laughter and yelling of kids speaking Spanish. This causes young Mary great discomfort because she cannot speak Spanish well. Her shame causes her to not interact with anyone at the party, and she feels embarrassment because she is wearing a large, white dress while the children are dressed in rags. As she gets closer, she sees the piñata is made of beautiful glass and decides this piñata is too magnificent to break. Mary then tells her mother she wants to leave, but her mother disagrees and says it would be rude to leave before breaking the piñata. Her mother then blindfolds her to prevent glass from getting into her eyes. This causes Mary great fear and anxiety because she thinks if she breaks this piñata, she will get in trouble. Her mother tells her she does not have anything to fear. When it’s Mary’s turn, she is so afraid she begins to pee her pants. The children begin to push her closer to the piñata, but she keeps screaming that she wants to go home. Suddenly she swings and hears a great shattering sound. She knows she has “killed” the piñata (p. 107). She then wakes up with great fear.

After listening to her dream, Hazel proceeds to take out a deck of tarot cards and instructs Mary to go through them and choose five she thinks represent her dream. While Mary is trying to decide which cards to select, we learn her mother killed herself by shooting up too much insulin to help her get into “trances to speak to the Virgin [Mary]…” (p. 109). This resulted in her mother’s heart attack. Hazel reviews the tarot cards she chose and says the primary significance of her dreams is that she will be reborn; Mary is changing and both her American and Mexican identities are becoming one. This causes Mary emotional and physical pain. She begins to cry—perhaps the revelations of her dreams were too much—and she decides to leave. Mary continues crying even when she arrives home and is reminded of the way she cried at her mother’s funeral, reliving the pain she had not let go. Later, Mary writes a letter to Hazel, where we learn Mary is the same character from Chapter 4. Mary and her mom traveled to Mexico when she was 10 years old. Her mother married whom she now refers to as Mary’s dad and gained citizenship in the U.S. Yet, she became very sick upon crossing the border and lost many of her memories, potentially mind and body trying to rid her of the terrible, painful memories and the assault she experienced at the hands of her stepfather. While Mary considered herself a writer, she decided to leave her Americanized, white writing program in Iowa because she realized they did not understand her identity. Instead she joins a bilingual class at a local college in El Paso. She recalls how her teacher used to terrorize her in front of her classmates because she was “illegal,” and yet now she does not remember Spanish (p. 119). Mary is reborn and now proud of her “pocha power,” or the power to be considered a traitor by her ancestors by “forgetting Spanish” (p. 1), which allows her to be cognizant of both identities (pg. 119).

Chapter 7, Ella Tiene Su Tono: Conocimiento and Mestiza Consciousness in Liliana Wilson’s Art, is a scholarly piece that ties Gloria Anzaldúa’s work, particularly the concept of conocimiento, or self-knowledge, to the Chilean artwork by Liliana Wilson (p. 121). For Gaspar de Alba, Wilson’s work “[awakens] mestiza consciousness,” or the awareness of having a combined identity, both Mexican and Spanish (p. 122). The author interprets several of Wilson’s art pieces by using Anzaldúa’s “seven stages of the conocimiento process…” (p. 122). The author presents a common theme of embracing a mestiza identity despite the confusion or “alien” feeling it may hold (p. 140).

Chapter 8, Bad Girls Rise Again: The Sinful Saints & Saintly Sinners at the Margins of the Americas Exhibition, focuses on artwork by Alma Lopez, particularly the revisioning of saints, such as La Virgin de Guadalupe. Gaspar de Alba addresses the 2001 and 2013 public outrage surrounding artwork by Lopez of La Virgin dressed in promiscuous ways, such as wearing a bikini and drinking a margarita (p. 157). Yet, Lopez argues “it’s the people who create their own saints…” (p. 161). Through Lopez’s artwork, women saints are “rebel[s]” who do not conform to a gendered society (p. 164). This theme is also portrayed by the queer saints created by Lopez. Like the previous chapter, the author ties Lopez’s work to the border identities explained by Anzaldúa. In sum, both chapters argue the importance of the pocha identity that can be expressed in visual media.

Chapter 9, Malinche’s Rights, is a fictional piece that focuses on the toxicity of machismo culture. The main character dreams of her dead father being alive. While her sister breastfeeds, her father asks to be brought food, signifying his needs are greater than her own child’s. Her sister ignores him twice, and he continues to express “how hungry he [is],” but only the main character listens (p. 176). She takes her father milk and cookies to eat. Her father wanted his family to write about him, but no one did. The young main character decides to write a letter where she explains her father needs to rest to heal. She recalls when her father asked her not to cut her hair, which appears to symbolize control of his daughter’s femininity. Later in life, her father was angry because she chose “life without a man” (p. 178). Her lesbian identity stood against her father’s controlling machismo culture. We learn one night his daughter “got drunk,” and as she puked, she experienced a cleansing and liberating feeling (p. 179); her father could no longer control her now that he had passed away. In the proceeding section, a fictional piece presents La Malinche as rebelling against Cortés, even though he approaches her as her Christian savior. Cortés baptizes her and La Malinche, or Marina, no longer fights against him. She is soon raped by him. This chapter contains various poetic imagery and symbolism. A common theme is to fight against the patriarchy, even when they think you’ve resigned.

Finally, chapter 10, The Codex Nepantla Project: Transinterpretation of Pocha Poetics, Politics and Praxis, discusses the issue of most Chicana feminists’ work not being translated in Spanish and therefore inaccessible to Mexican feminist readers and activists; this is the task the Codex Nepantla Project tackles. Gaspar de Alba also addresses the issue of disconnection and being seen as “outsiders” by Mexican women due to their “hybrid language of the border” (p. 188). The author tackles ideas of linguistic assimilation and the separation between Mexicanas and Chicanas that has resulted and explains the importance of uniting based on their commonalities. The author introduces the concept of transinterpretation since many Chicana feminists who are American-born lack the capacity to write in Spanish fluently, due to the historical discrimination and racism experienced by their ancestors and themselves. Instead, transinterpretation is a form of writing and translation that combines an understanding of the pocha identity and experiences.

In conclusion, Gaspar de Alba brilliantly demonstrates the complexities of the Mexican American identity. She states, “Yes, I am a pocha, not a Mexican, not an American, but both, and neither. ¿Y qué?” or so what? (p. 195). The author eloquently describes how dynamic identity is, and the history, culture, and experiences that make it like a flowing river, constantly changing and never static or in one place for long. The multidimensional aspects of a border town identity are what make it unique, and the author often encourages other Chicanas to claim it and fight against the feelings of shame that are instilled in us from a young age.