Xochitl Gonzalez’s debut novel Olga Dies Dreaming has definitely made the rounds. An immensely successful first novel, Hulu considered the story for a series even before the book was published.
Think in the Morning recommends the book for many reasons. For anyone whose knowledge of Puerto Rico is limited, we think this novel is an ideal way to learn more. The book is a family saga. It follows Olga, a wedding planner for the wealthy elite, and her brother Prieto, a politician, Nuyoricans (Americans of Puerto Rican descent raised in New York), their large family of aunts and uncles, and their activist mother Blanca who left them to be raised by their grandmother while she pursued social and political justice for Puerto Rico.
Olga shares her observations as she witnesses the comedy of life in a Kardashian-like pop culture. She and Prieto prove once again that old observation that the truth is harder to believe than fiction.
The complex relationship between Olga, Prieto and their mother portrays the common observation that the current generation inevitably rebels against the politics and values of their parents. While Blanca is consumed by her dedication of social causes, Olga and Prieto are seduced by a vacuous materialism even though Olga observes how wealth can be empty and exhausting.
Olga realized that she’d allowed herself to become distracted from the true American dream—accumulating money—by its phantom cousin, accumulating fame. She would never make that mistake again.
…
Olga began to notice that her clients were growing steadily richer while the people doing the work were getting compensated in exactly the same way. Even the rich people appeared less content than before. Simply existing seemed an immense burden to them. Their wealth bought them homes that were “exhausting” to deal with, vacations that were “overwhelming” to plan for. What was required to please them, to make them feel joy on their most joyful day, became increasingly impossible to achieve. Olga raised her prices, inflated her bills, increased her markups. But the money didn’t make any of it feel better. She began, gradually at first, to find not only her actual day-to-day work tedious and stupid, but also the entire project of her life. Around this time Olga noticed that her mother’s notes no longer filled her, even for a moment, with smug satisfaction.
One of our favorite scenes in the book is when Olga is appearing on Good Morning, Later (a television show similar to the Today Show), just after hurricane Maria devastates Puerto Rico. It is at this moment when an existential change in Olga takes over. She loses it and the experience reorients her life. The scene is so funny and poignant at the same time that we quote it in detail.
“Oh my!” Tammy suddenly exclaimed. She paused. “Olga, I just remembered. You are of Puerto Rican heritage, aren’t you?” “Yes,” Olga said with a solemn nod. Internally, she screamed, Fuck. Fuck! Tammy! “And is your family over there okay?” Tammy asked, gently resting her hand on Olga’s shoulder. “The images look just awful.” “Well, Tammy,” Olga began, and as soon as she opened her mouth she knew that she was not going to give them the Good Morning, Later version of this conversation that they wanted. She wasn’t even going to give them the Good Morning version of this conversation, “the images look awful, because it is awful. This morning, right before I came on, I saw pictures of American children lapping up rainwater because their water supply has been contaminated by the dumping of toxic waste by U.S. corporations all over the island—” “Yes, Olga,” Toni tried to cut in, “it really is hard to—” “No, Toni, Tammy asked me how my family is, so I want to tell her. My cousin can’t locate her sick grandmother because they have no cell service and in the unlikely event that she got to a hospital, she’s still probably dead because the hospitals don’t have enough fuel to operate the generators. But she won’t be the only one. When this is over, mark my words, thousands will be dead, because this is just the beginning, and I want to be really clear here—” Tammy tried to cut in, but Olga swatted her away before a word could get out of her mouth. She could see that the red light of the camera was still on. The producers were going to let her keep going. Fuck it, she thought. “These deaths will be blood on this president’s hands, this administration’s hands. They can try and blame the Puerto Rican debt; they can blame their lackey—the governor down there—but he’s just a figurehead. At the end of the day, this was not an earthquake, it was a hurricane. A hurricane that the government knew was coming for a whole week and did nothing to prepare for. What we are witnessing is the systemic destruction of the Puerto Rican people at the hands of the government, to benefit the ultra-rich and private corporate interests.” Toni awkwardly laughed. “Oh my, Olga, that sounds a bit conspiratorial, no?” “If it does, Toni, it’s just because you aren’t informed. It’s not your fault. Our schools whitewash history. So, let me explain. Puerto Ricans are Americans, but they have no elected representation in Congress or the Senate, and because they also aren’t a state, their governor has no authority to do things other governors can do, like call in the National Guard. Only the president can do that. Only the president can call in FEMA. Fifty percent of the island didn’t have power before Maria, but somehow the government didn’t think to call in the USS Comfort until this weekend? They knew before the storm that the island’s infrastructure was fragile, that they would lose communications, yet they only sent two Black Hawk helicopters? My brother—a U.S. congressman—traveled with the governor of New York to Puerto Rico two days—two days—after Maria hit. And the federal government just sent someone on Monday? “Listen, private interest has been trying to gain control of Puerto Rico—the land, the agencies—for ages. The government has always been their coconspirators. As I speak, this administration still hasn’t lifted the Jones Act! People are suffering—starving for food—but still being penalized with taxes on produce and other goods just for living on an island the U.S. government stole from them in the first place! That’s criminal! It shouldn’t be law. They are going to starve the Puerto Rican people of resources and support and, because there is a cap to what people can take—no power, no clean water, no schools, no jobs—they will effectively smoke people off the island, and then, that’s when the vultures will sweep in. They are already circling.” Olga stopped and noticed that Tammy was rapidly rotating through variations of a smile: a mask of sympathy, puzzlement, and possibly even a grimace of fear flitting across her face as she attempted to find the proper expression in the lexicon of morning TV responses. Toni had her hand to her earpiece. “Well, Olga,” Toni said, “it’s very clear how passionate you are about Maria recovery. We are going to need to cut to break, but before we go, any final words for the president? He is an avid news watcher!” Olga was a little surprised they would let her speak again. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She paused to think of exactly what she wanted to do with this opportunity. “Mr. President, I hope that the ghosts of every Puerto Rican who died at your hands in this catastrophe haunt your dreams each night, dancing an all-night salsa party in your twisted mind.”
There are so many good characters, so many great scenes. What more do you need? When we first started this book we weren’t sure we were going to like it but by the end we loved it. You will too. Buy it. Read it. Enjoy.
The title was inspired by the poem Puerto Rican Obituary by Pedro Pietri posted below.
Puerto Rican Obituary
BY PEDRO PIETRI
They worked
They were always on time
They were never late
They never spoke back
when they were insulted
They worked
They never took days off
that were not on the calendar
They never went on strike
without permission
They worked
ten days a week
and were only paid for five
They worked
They worked
They worked
and they died
They died broke
They died owing
They died never knowing
what the front entrance
of the first national city bank looks like
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
passing their bill collectors
on to the next of kin
All died
waiting for the garden of eden
to open up again
under a new management
All died
dreaming about america
waking them up in the middle of the night
screaming: Mira Mira
your name is on the winning lottery ticket
for one hundred thousand dollars
All died
hating the grocery stores
that sold them make-believe steak
and bullet-proof rice and beans
All died waiting dreaming and hating
Dead Puerto Ricans
Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans
Who never took a coffee break
from the ten commandments
to KILL KILL KILL
the landlords of their cracked skulls
and communicate with their latino souls
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
From the nervous breakdown streets
where the mice live like millionaires
and the people do not live at all
are dead and were never alive
Juan
died waiting for his number to hit
Miguel
died waiting for the welfare check
to come and go and come again
Milagros
died waiting for her ten children
to grow up and work
so she could quit working
Olga
died waiting for a five dollar raise
Manuel
died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead
so he could get a promotion
Is a long ride
from Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery
where they were buried
First the train
and then the bus
and the cold cuts for lunch
and the flowers
that will be stolen
when visiting hours are over
Is very expensive
Is very expensive
But they understand
Their parents understood
Is a long non-profit ride
from Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Dreaming
Dreaming about queens
Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood
Puerto Ricanless scene
Thirty-thousand-dollar home
The first spics on the block
Proud to belong to a community
of gringos who want them lynched
Proud to be a long distance away
from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa
These dreams
These empty dreams
from the make-believe bedrooms
their parents left them
are the after-effects
of television programs
about the ideal
white american family
with black maids
and latino janitors
who are well train—
to make everyone
and their bill collectors
laugh at them
and the people they represent
Juan
died dreaming about a new car
Miguel
died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs
Milagros
died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico
Olga
died dreaming about real jewelry
Manuel
died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes
They all died
like a hero sandwich dies
in the garment district
at twelve o’clock in the afternoon
social security number to ashes
union dues to dust
They knew
they were born to weep
and keep the morticians employed
as long as they pledge allegiance
to the flag that wants them destroyed
They saw their names listed
in the telephone directory of destruction
They were train to turn
the other cheek by newspapers
that mispelled mispronounced
and misunderstood their names
and celebrated when death came
and stole their final laundry ticket
They were born dead
and they died dead
Is time
to visit sister lopez again
the number one healer
and fortune card dealer
in Spanish Harlem
She can communicate
with your late relatives
for a reasonable fee
Good news is guaranteed
Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable—
Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
Let them know this right away
Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
Now that your problems are over
and the world is off your shoulders
help those who you left behind
find financial peace of mind
Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
If the right number we hit
all our problems will split
and we will visit your grave
on every legal holiday
Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
let them know this right away
We know your spirit is able
Death is not dumb and disable
RISE TABLE RISE TABLE
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Hating fighting and stealing
broken windows from each other
Practicing a religion without a roof
The old testament
The new testament
according to me gospel
of the internal revenue
the judge and jury and executioner
protector and eternal bill collector
Secondhand shit for sale
learn how to say Como Esta Usted
and you will make a fortune
They are dead
They are dead
and will not return from the dead
until they stop neglecting
the art of their dialogue—
for broken english lessons
to impress the mister goldsteins—
who keep them employed
as lavaplatos
porters messenger boys
factory workers maids stock clerks
shipping clerks assistant mailroom
assistant, assistant assistant
to the assistant’s assistant
assistant lavaplatos and automatic
artificial smiling doormen
for the lowest wages of the ages
and rages when you demand a raise
because is against the company policy
to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS
Juan
died hating Miguel because Miguel’s
used car was in better running condition
than his used car
Miguel
died hating Milagros because Milagros
had a color television set
and he could not afford one yet
Milagros
died hating Olga because Olga
made five dollars more on the same job
Olga
died hating Manuel because Manuel
had hit the numbers more times
than she had hit the numbers
Manuel
died hating all of them
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
and Olga
because they all spoke broken english
more fluently than he did
And now they are together
in the main lobby of the void
Addicted to silence
Off limits to the wind
Confine to worm supremacy
in long island cemetery
This is the groovy hereafter
the protestant collection box
was talking so loud and proud about
Here lies Juan
Here lies Miguel
Here lies Milagros
Here lies Olga
Here lies Manuel
who died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Always broke
Always owing
Never knowing
that they are beautiful people
Never knowing
the geography of their complexion
PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE
PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE
If only they
had turned off the television
and tune into their own imaginations
If only they
had used the white supremacy bibles
for toilet paper purpose
and make their latino souls
the only religion of their race
If only they
had return to the definition of the sun
after the first mental snowstorm
on the summer of their senses
If only they
had kept their eyes open
at the funeral of their fellow employees
who came to this country to make a fortune
and were buried without underwears
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
will right now be doing their own thing
where beautiful people sing
and dance and work together
where the wind is a stranger
to miserable weather conditions
where you do not need a dictionary
to communicate with your people
Aqui
Se Habla Espanol
all the time
Aqui you salute your flag first
Aqui there are no dial soap commercials
Aqui everybody smells good
Aqui tv dinners do not have a future
Aqui the men and women admire desire
and never get tired of each other
Aqui Que Pasa Power is what’s happening
Aqui to be called negrito
means to be called LOVE
Thank you for the lovely note and review, David!
Melissa Martínez-Raga
Creative Assistant to Xochitl Gonzalez