“Oye” Shows How To Face What Is Haunting

“Oye” Shows How To Face What Is Haunting https://ift.tt/s8amLiP

Amid an ongoing societal grappling over the right approach to self-care, Melissa Mogollon’s debut novel Oye delves into the question of how to take care of others while also caring for oneself.

Told from the point of view of Luciana, an 18-year-old high school senior, the novel begins with an intergenerational struggle over how to respond to the hurricane heading towards the family’s hometown in Florida. But soon, it becomes clear that the hurricane is the least of the Colombian-American family’s worries when they learn that their matriarch, Abue, is seriously ill.  

The story unfolds over a series of phone calls between Luciana and her sister, Mari, who is away at college and removed from the family situation at home. On the page, Mongollon only offers Luciana’s side of the conversation, though she handles dialogue so deftly that the technique never feels withholding or limited. And given the family’s tendency to make Luciana play the middleman — between her mother and grandmother, in her grandmother’s forced reconciliation with her sister, with doctors as her Spanish-speaking grandmother’s translator — the choice to remain with Luciana throughout the story feels entirely appropriate.

At first, Luciana’s teenage angst that ripples through her conversations can make the novel read a bit more like young adult literature. However, as Luciana grows, so too does the depth of the conversations she’s capable of having. 

Initially, Luciana lashes out at her sister because of the pressure she feels is placed on her, saying in one phone call with Mari: “Like, how hypocritical can you be?! Telling me to take advantage of opportunities when you won’t even let me be myself!” As Luciana comes to terms with Abue’s illness and, perhaps even more significantly, with who she is, she realizes the importance of taking what she needs for herself rather than waiting on someone else to grant her permission. In another phone call with Mari towards the end of the book, Luciana defiantly declares: “Because even if no one will give it to me — I can just CREATE my own fucking space.”  

Evidenced by Luciana’s casual, no-holds-barred manner of speaking, there’s something refreshing about these weighty, universally felt struggles being told through the voice of a funny, sassy teenager. Abue’s wild, one-of-a-kind personality and unapologetic glamor only add to the novel’s sense of irreverence.

That said, Oye also addresses some very heavy, and potentially triggering, topics amid its levity and humor. Not only is Luciana dealing with her own sexuality and her mother’s reaction to it, she is also shouldering the burden of holding space for her grandmother’s long-kept secrets, which Abue finally starts to confront after a life spent trying to stuff them down. 

As Luciana processes her grandmother’s painful past — which holds betrayal, blackmail and incest — she begins to understand the importance of not running away from what haunts her. Following a conversation with a medium about her grandmother’s illness and trauma, Luciana tells her sister over the phone: “When we ignore ourselves for long enough, our bodies find a way to make us listen.” This is a wakeup call for Luciana, who, even at a young age, has already begun experiencing physical symptoms herself.

Witnessing this transformation unspool in Luciana, who ultimately reconfigures her relationship with her sister as well as the other members of the families, you can’t help but root for this singular teenager as she starts to claim her space in the world.

FICTION
Oye
By Melissa Mogollon
Hogarth Press
Published May 14, 2024