

Isabella Santana’s Abuela Lore (Somos en escrito Literary Foundation Press, 2024) revolves around the author’s grandmothers, emphasizing their fortitude, love, and magic. Santana guides us through a maze of natural wonder, highlighting how special the ties between women are, and how the machismo culture dims their brightness without ever sniffing out their fighting spirit. All in all, it is a testament of love, each verse brimming with familiar adoration.
While this whole poetry collection is an ode to grandmothers, the central theme is the strength of the ties between women. Santana manages to contrast the adversities of life with the lightness and mutual support of her grandmothers’ relationship. One moment, “They giggle on the couch” (Santana 10) only to be reminded of “their powerlessness” (Santana 11) the next, when Yollis’ husband screams her name and reminds her of her subservience. All the while, there is unconditional mutual understanding and support between two women who understand their place in the household too well. While questioning the cyclical nature of generational pain, Santana uncovers the many similarities that connect her with a great-grandmother that she never met. She confesses, “you are the shadow I cannot shake off” (Santana 43), leaving us readers with the impression that despite the many societal changes, women are still confined by the patriarchal society that restricts their dreams.
The collection dives into the machismo in Latin American culture through the grandfather, who “trusts nobody, / so he controls them instead” (Santana 24). Abuela Lore puts into question the ‘natural’ hierarchy in a household where the men command through fear while the women make the home and have the answers to any ailment. Santana expresses her dream for her grandmother’s freedom while highlighting the general conditioning and pressure girls face, trying to be ‘good girls’ as well as perfectly sensual beings. It’s a familiar tale of women’s lives revolving around the desires of men.
Santana’s heritage shines throughout the collection and is most pungent in the choice of not translating a few poems from Spanish. For example, in “Sana sana,” Santana writes,
“puedes llenarme con todas las yerbas
y bebidas hervidas que tienes.
pero nunca encontrarás un remedio
para este corazón herido.” (35)
This choice adds commentary to American discourse on the immigrant experience, and how transformative it can be, and it shows up in so many poems throughout Abuela Lore. In “Terremoto,” Santana compares the cultural shock to an earthquake, which results in “a fractured self” (4). Despite all the dreams America can hold within, there are always sacrifices to be made. Reading “there is an ocean between You and your country” (23) from “No take backs” also resonated with my own personal experiences of moving to different countries and forcing myself to assimilate, slowly losing the connection thread to my point of origin. Another particularly emotional poem, “Ana Dominga is dead,” emphasizes the emotional distraught of not being able to physically be there when the people we care about need us most. Santana writes, “how can you miss your best friend’s funeral? / because they were countries apart” (30). The grandmother found out that her best friend passed away months after it happened; she could have lived an entire existence not knowing, which exacerbates the disruption that distance can create.
Another important element is the constancy of Catholic imagery throughout the collection. Religion is portrayed as a comfort to herself and her grandmother’s lives. While Santana is critical of the link between Christianity and the centuries-long Spanish colonization, religion is not portrayed negatively. Since women’s space in society is limited by men, faith allows them to find solace in knowing their actions can be forgiven and that there is another life awaiting them. For instance, the speaker questions, “Are the dried roses / my Chica puts next to her Virgen shrine / just old blood stains come to life?” (Santana 19), wondering whether the figurine is capable of absorbing the losses and pains of her grandmother’s life.
Finally, nature is ever-present throughout the poems. The speaker tells us about a river so violent it takes any life that crosses it, and about the convoluted ocean her grandmothers crossed, breathing life into the collection. There is also heavy criticism of environmental degradation due to human action. After apologizing to Tungurahua, the speaker goes on to list the volcano’s grievances, “They clog your rivers with their filth. / They kill your creatures with their bullets. / They drive your people away” (Santana 9). It is interesting that the author introduces the deterioration of natural landscapes in Abuela Lore. At first, it felt a little disconnected from the other themes that Santana explores, but upon a re-read, I recognize a purposeful showcasing of the similarities between the proprietary exploitation of nature and women, and how in both instances, there is strength within and the possibility of eventual retribution to righten the world.
On the whole, Abuela Lore feels like a labor of love. The connection between a granddaughter and her grandmothers is presented so magically that it is impossible not to finish the collection with the taste of memories of one’s own. Despite the very serious issues it introduces, there are enough lighthearted details sprinkled throughout the verses to make it an extremely rewarding and enjoyable read.
Abuela Lore is available from Somos en Escrito

Ines Pinto (she/her) is from a small beach town near Lisbon, Portugal. She decided to leave those shores behind as she moved around Europe, eventually completing her master’s degree in International Politics. She dreams of a fairer world, so she worked in the non-profit sector to call for the end of corruption and dirty money flows before moving to New York to start a brand new adventure. She is also the proud mother of a spoiled cat named Louis, a certified multilingual Eurovision fan, and a reader with an appreciation for all genres.
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