Reviewed by Sonia Alejandra Rodriguez
Reviewed Source: Latinx in Kid Lit
Book Author: Isabel Quintero
DESCRIPTION OF THE NOVEL:
July 24
My mother named me Gabriella, after my grandmother who, coincidentally, didn’t want to meet me when I was born because my mother was unmarried, and therefore living in sin. My mom has told me the story many, many, MANY, times of how, when she confessed to my grandmother that she was pregnant with me, her mother beat her. BEAT HER! She was twenty-five. That story is the basis of my sexual education and has reiterated why it’s important to wait until you’re married to give it up. So now, every time I go out with a guy, my mom says, “Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas.” Eyes open, legs closed. That’s as far as the birds and the bees talk has gone. And I don’t mind it. I don’t necessarily agree with that whole wait until you’re married crap, though. I mean, this is America and the 21st century; not Mexico one hundred years ago. But, of course, I can’t tell my mom that because she will think I’m bad. Or worse: trying to be White.
Gabi Hernandez chronicles her last year in high school in her diary: Cindy’s pregnancy, Sebastian’s coming out, the cute boys, her father’s meth habit, and the food she craves. And best of all, the poetry that helps forge her identity.
MY TWO CENTS: Isabel Quintero’s 378 page debut YA novel, Gabi: A Girl in Pieces, is witty, exciting, and heart-felt. Through a diary entry narrative, the novel follows Gabi Hernandez through her senior year in high school. Gabi is a self-identified light-skinned, fat Mexican with an insatiable appetite for hot wings, tacos, sopes, and poetry. The novel opens with a fantastic obsession for hot wings and with Sebastian, Gabi’s best friend, coming out to her. In a small piece of paper Sebastian writes, “I’m gay,” which does not surprise Gabi. Instead, she is more concerned about his parents’ reaction. Cindy, Gabi’s other best friend, also confesses to Gabi that she had sex with German and might be pregnant. Gabi, who is still a virgin, is taken aback but comforts Cindy in her time of need and together they discover that Cindy is in fact pregnant. By the end of the novel, Gabi has had her first kiss, broken up with her first boyfriend, and has sex with her second boyfriend. To top it all off, the Hernandez family must also contend with the father’s meth addiction which ultimately kills him. Poetry and letter writing give Gabi an opportunity to process all of the difficulties that she and her friends endure throughout the year. Continue reading.
Find more recommended titles on this topic on our Spanish / Bilingual booklist.
Gabi, fragmentos de una adolescente by Isabel Quintero
Published by Penguin Random House Grupo Editorial USA on September 1, 2020
Genres: Latinx, Spanish
Pages: 208
Reading Level: High School
ISBN: 9780593082270
Review Source: Latinx in Kid Lit
Also by this author: Photographic, My Papi Has a Motorcycle
Sinopsis del editor: Gabi aún no entiende quién es. Escribir la ayudará a juntar sus pedazos. Gabi Hernández está en su último año de la preparatoria. Para entretenerse, escribe todo lo que le pasa en su diario: las solicitudes a las universidades, el embarazo de Cindy, cuando Sebastián salió del clóset, los chicos guapos de su clase, la adicción de su padre a la metanfetamina, y toda la comida que se le antoja. Pero lo mejor de todo lo que escribe es la poesía que la ayuda a ser quien es. 24 de julio Mi madre me llamó Gabriela en honor de mi abuela materna, quien, por cierto, no quiso conocerme cuando nací porque mi mamá no estaba casada, es decir, vivía en pecado.
Mi mamá me contó muchas, muchas, muchas veces cómo mi abuela la golpeó cuando le confesó que estaba embarazada de mí. ¡Le dio una paliza! A los veinticinco años. Esa historia es la base de mi educación sexual. Cada vez que salgo con alguien, mi mamá dice, Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas. Hasta ahí llega la conversación delas abejitas y las flores. Y por mí está bien, aun si no estoy enteramente de acuerdo con toda esa basura de esperar hasta que te cases. O sea, esto es Estados Unidos y es el siglo XXI, no México hace cien años. Pero, claro, no se lo puedo decir a mi mamá porque pensaría que soy mala. O peor: que intento ser blanca.
Leave a Reply