Sandra Cisneros knows about love. About the innocence and totality of the love found in a childhood friendship. About the loss of this innocence and the sting of your first betrayal. About the incapability to deny love once it has set itself in a young heart. About unrequited love. About forcing yourself to endure a love that is superficial and injurious. About letting go of counterfeit love. About never letting go of genuine love. About the unending depths of family love. About public love. About private love. About jealous love. About vindictive love. About misplaced and projected love. About wanting love. About needing love. About giving love.

And goddamn, the woman knows how to write. Reading this, I felt as though I was being guided through the inner workings of the tender heart of each of the characters, as they were either awestruck or utterly disappointed by love.

I must also say that although this book can clearly be identified as feminist literature, and Mexican or Chicano literature, I really feel that Cisneros’ writing surpasses all of that. These are universal tales of the human condition, and it is a pleasure to read such a truthful account of what we all go through.

“I want to come undone, like a gold thread, like a tent full of birds”.