Reviewed by Pallas Gutierrez 

In My Chicano Heart, Daniel A. Olivas presents thirty-one short stories about love, loss, and Chicane identity. The stories range from starkly realistic to deeply magical, and at the core of each one are expertly crafted characters. These characters span a wide range of backgrounds and experiences, from twelve-year-old James falling in love for the first time in “Lucky Dog,” to Alisa recovering from optical surgery in “Diplopia,” but they are all grounded in Olivas’s rich storytelling and clearly drawn realities.

Five of the stories contained in My Chicano Heart are new, and in the collection’s introduction Olivas describes them as “some of my stranger tales.” These new stories are more experimental, pushing the boundaries of what a short story can be. One particular standout is “An Interview with Love,” in which an unnamed interviewer sits down with Love itself to ask questions about what Love has accomplished. Olivas presents a grounded Love, acknowledging that it is responsible for most wars as well as most art, and wishing that it had gotten in on the stock market. The interview format’s focus on dialogue allows Olivas to humanize love, without needing to explain how or why Love can give an interview. The reader learns directly from the emotion itself that Love is not everything that poets and artists have made it out to be. This story is a cornerstone of a collection that aims to “address and explore love in its many forms.”

“The Annotated Obituary of Alejandra López de Calle,” on the other hand, contains no dialogue. The story consists of an obituary of fictional playwright Alejandra López de Calle, by fictional reporter Lucy Broderick, which has been annotated by an unnamed student for a final exam. The annotations are presented as endnotes, allowing the reader to complete a readthrough of the obituary before beginning the student’s commentary. This story focuses on how Chicane art is received and discussed in mainstream outlets. The annotations attempt to correct the record and interrogate how López’s work is being presented, but Broderick’s published obituary will reach a far broader audience than the student’s notes. These corrections encourage audiences to engage with Chicane art and artists beyond mainstream reviews by demonstrating Broderick’s lack of political and cultural context, and how that lack leads to misunderstandings of López de Calle’s art. According to Broderick, López says in an interview, “Of course Chicana writers can write for all audiences… But I don’t need to. I write for Chicanas because I am Chicana. If anyone else wants to go along for the ride, that’s fine.” This line distills one of Olivas’s core arguments within this collection: he is writing stories about Chicane life, love, and worlds, and he is not interested in modifying those stories to make them appeal to broader audiences. The collection is accessible to whomever is open to reading it in its authentic form.

Throughout My Chicano Heart, Olivas uses common references and language to build a distinct world for his characters to inhabit. Names are repeated but clearly refer to different characters: the Humberto in “Kind of Blue” and “The Lost Soul of Humberto Reyes” are distinct people, one dying in a break-in and the other traveling the world. Instead of establishing a connection between the stories, Olivas places both Humbertos in a world where their name is common. There are also two Ruths in “The Jew of Dos Cuentos” and “Yahrzeit.” The repeated names may be a happy accident: the thirty-one stories were written over several years, and Olivas may not have realized that he repeated those names until the collection revealed how he had incorporated his personal lexicon into his writing. The repetition goes beyond names and into works of art, establishing a shared culture. Multiple stories refer to Frida Kahlo’s painting Las Dos Fridas, but the characters do not overlap. This commonality establishes a Chicane canon, as does each story’s references to musicians and writers. Kahlo’s work is referred to not because the stories are connected, but because her work is an essential expression of the Chicane experience.

Olivas’s deep engagement with culture is expressed through his stories “La Guaca” and “The Fairy Tale of the Man and the Woman,” which read like folktales. “The Fairy Tale of the Man and the Woman,” while taking place in a modern environment, is narrated in a style that feels timeless. As in many folktales passed down through generations, the story lacks some identifying details: neither main character is given a name, and their story takes place long ago in an unnamed town. Other elements, meanwhile, like the Man driving a Honda Civic in his neighborhood of identical houses, ground the story in the relative present. Actions and feelings are told in straightforward descriptive sentences and the story ends with a clear moral, like many folktales that stand the test of time. By creating a modern fairytale, Olivas asserts Chicane culture as extant and evolving, rather than a relic of the past. The incorporation of strong women pushes back on machismo and creates a picture of a past, present, and future for all Chicane people, one that will continue to evolve.

Several of the stories within My Chicano Heart engage with religion’s place in Chicane communities. Various faiths are explored throughout the collection, always tied to love or identity, furthering Olivas’s exploration of relationships and Chicanidad. Perhaps most compelling is “El Padre,” which deals with Catholicism, doctrine, and hypocrisy: the titular Father Cortés convinces himself that his pregnant lover, Sister Antonia, should get an abortion to preserve both their reputations, despite the church’s stance on reproductive healthcare. Faith is integral to identity for Sister Antonia, who lives in the convent, and Father Cortés, who cannot envision leaving the church, a move which he is certain would scandalize his community. Father Cortés connects indigenous worship to Catholic saints, as well as linking jazz and salsa to the Beach Boys, demonstrating the mestizaje that has come to define Chicane identities. The lovers’ faith, a prominent part of their existence in the community, becomes as large a part of their identities as their ethnicity, and a more punishing one. Olivas confronts the reality of Chicane experiences against the expectations of the church with the most pious possible characters, illustrating (and perhaps gently forgiving) the reality of struggles with faith.

My Chicano Heart presents thirty-one stories of Chicane people figuring out what place love has in their life, whether that love is platonic, romantic, familial, or otherwise. Olivas resists justifying his cultural references, instead building a world that is specific to the characters inhabiting it. In so doing, he proves that the big ideas of love, loss, and change have the power to resonate across cultural borders.

Pallas Gutierrez is a writer, teaching artist, and lighting designer from New York City. They are currently a student at UC Riverside’s Low-Residency MFA in Creative Writing. Outside of writing, Pallas enjoys crafting and volunteering in their community.