Rio Grande and (Re)Generations

Malas cover


Malas 
by Marcela Fuentes

New York: Penguin Random House, 2024. 
384 pp. $29.00 Hardcover.

Reviewed by 
Laura Irvine


Malas takes a realistic view of the complicated, yet beautiful and often oppressive Mexican culture and explores how family stories can derive from a love so powerful it hurts everyone involved, or worse— destroys.”

Located on the border of Texas and Mexico, the fictional town of La Cienega is vibrantly described as having Mexican superstitions, curses, and cures. Although the machismo men and malas who populate the town provide enough chisme for a telenovela, Marcela Fuentes’s debut novel takes a serious look at the repercussions of manifesting negativity within a traditional patriarchal family. The story begins with a curse bestowed upon Pilar Aguirre’s family that lasts for four decades. Fuentes shows how unchecked fear can devastate a family, and how dismantling that fear takes resistance and subversive behavior.  

   Set during the 1950s and 1990s, the characters weave in and out of each other’s lives for forty years, fueling town gossip and superstitious beliefs. Brujas and curanderas roam the town as indiscriminately as the gringo doctors and townspeople, but with more reverence. Malas takes a realistic view of the complicated, yet beautiful and often oppressive Mexican culture and explores how family stories can derive from a love so powerful it hurts everyone involved, or worse— destroys. Fuentes cleverly exposes how some traditions and myths are more harmful than helpful, without subtracting the magic and lore from la raza. 

   Despite the importance of regionality, Fuentes’ description of unresolved familial trauma is universal, and her ability to describe the various issues within a strict traditional family still rings true. What impressed me the most about Malas is Fuentes’ ability to capture the reality of living as a female in a patriarchal Mexican household. Her description of a “Mexican dad” shows the complexity of a man who loves his daughter but also views her as a burden to protect. Therefore, by placing arbitrary restrictions on her because of her gender describes the contradictory dynamics between the “traditional” Mexican men and the malas who resist unfair stereotyping. It shows how outdated belief systems fracture relationships that could have thrived in love, if they just let go of their dread. However, Fuentes does not leave her audience devastated by a sad outcome, this story is also about redemption and offers an empowering lesson in forgiveness.  

   Fuentes also makes it a point to give equal space for the music of the region when she brings to life what it meant to be a ’90s teenager. Lulu sings in a garage punk band, and for anyone who grew up during the grunge era and remembers the importance of alternative music, you will be pleasantly surprised by the list of songs referenced in her setlist. Because music is central to the development of Lulu, Fuentes created a Spotify playlist to inspire her while writing the novel. Anything from Siouxsie and the Banshees and The Cure, to The Dead Milkmen and The Stooges appear on her list. Fuentes’ love affair with music expands beyond rock to include conjunto, mariachi, and Tejano. Digging deep into her frontera cultura, Fuentes creates a touching scene where Lulu attempts to learn the various Mexican gritos from her father, another music aficionado who takes his Mexican music, beer, and family seriously. 

   It is also important to note the space Fuentes gives to describe Lulu’s reverence for Selena. It is substantial and completely relevant. As a person from South Texas who grew up during this time— she did not get it wrong. Selena’s fanbase during the late ’80s and ’90s was huge and has only gotten stronger since her untimely death. Without trying to sound hyperbolic, most people who lived down the south IH-35 or south IH-37 corridors have some kind of Selena story or know someone who knows someone who knew her and the band, and Fuentes was wise to include her. 

   Although I enjoyed the novel, I also thought that Fuentes gave her other main character Lulu an adult voice, despite being a child of fourteen. There were too many moments when she sounded like a wise forty-year-old woman tired of her dad’s rubbish when forced to play the role of a dependent. She quips with stinging comebacks that have an unexpected maturity. But because the story is beautifully written, minor glitches like that do not distract. Fuentes tells a story that allows the magic of the past to linger within a carefully curated set of music, tradition, and history of the Rio Grande Valley.


Laura Irvine is a former high school English teacher working toward her master's in literature at Texas State University. Laura and her husband, Greg, enjoy traveling and visiting their grandchildren in Oregon and London, England.