Reviews with content warning for Adult/minor relationship - Woven in Moonlight

I’d like to disclose that I am not Latina, Indigenous, or Bolivian, but I was a history major. A history major who happens to specialize in the Latin American region. That is why this book horrified me enough to research and refresh my memory on the historical events that inspired Woven in Moonlight. Ibañez is very open about the villain, Atoc, being inspired by Evo Morales. I’ll be discussing the real-life politics to a minimum so if you’re interested here are some informative links about Bolivian current events:

· https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/03/23/the-fall-of-evo-morales - If you only read one, I recommend this

· https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/the_americas/bolivia-election-evo-arce-mesa-camacho/2020/10/18/205b6b5c-0f11-11eb-8a35-237ef1eb2ef7_story.html

· https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/bolivia-indigenous/

· https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-12166905

Part I. Us vs. Them

Illustrians = White Spaniards/Mestizos and Llarcans = Indigenous Andeans. The characters are either given Spanish names or Quechua names (one Llarcan is named Sajra, which means “evil” in Quechua; subtle, right?).

Ximena, our protagonist, is Illustrian. Illustrians are noble people who were trying to bring the primitive Llarcans in the modern world. It’s not their fault Llarcans chose to live separately (spoiler alert: they didn’t choose anything, they were oppressed). Therefore, when Llarcans overthrew their Illustrian aristocracy out of ungratefulness, it was unjust.

Ximena tends to describe Llarcans as ugly people and is astonished when she meets some who aren’t. She also says they all have dirty feet because of their leather sandals. And the cherry on top, her description of their religion: led by a sinister, blood magic wielding priest and the worship of a sun god that demands human sacrifices. Seriously?

In the end, Ximena changes her mind about Llarcans. While that’s nice and all, Ibañez tried to create an allegory for some very real issues. These are systemic problems that shouldn’t be portrayed like this and can’t be solved like that. Not to mention it doesn’t even feel genuine considering how Llarcans were portrayed for most of the book.

Part II. “Justice” for Bolivia

Ibañez wrote in the acknowledgements that she admires her mother (her inspiration for Ximena) and her passion for Bolivian “justice.” That made me laugh.

Ibañez’s portrayal of Atoc is black-and-white; he’s evil and you can’t dispute that. Atoc is obviously an allegory for Evo Morales. While no government leader is above criticism, this portrayal is disingenuous, and it looks like Ibañez decided to unearth every nasty indigenous stereotype to reflect her feelings. Here’s my least favorite quote in the entire book:

“He really wants to eradicate all of our traditions, our way of life, our culture”

She’s accusing the indigenous coded character of cultural genocide. I don’t think I need to explain how vile that is. I have no issue with Ibañez wanting to criticize Morales or the Bolivian government, but this isn’t criticism. This is violence towards indigenous people.

Part III. The “Koka” Leaf

The koka leaf aspect frustrated me enough to warrant an entire section. Koka = coca (she didn’t put much effort into naming stuff, did she?). Quick history of the coca leaf in the real world:

Coca is a part of Andean indigenous culture. It plays a similar role to drinking coffee today; a mild stimulant that was believed to have health benefits and improved productivity. It was also treated as a social activity; communities gathering to chew coca together and talk (sounds like going to a café today). It was used in religious rituals as well.

When the Spaniards conquered the Incan Empire, they seized the coca supply. At first, they wanted it for themselves, but soon they realized they could use it to stimulate the Inca into forced labor. They also started producing the plant themselves so they could be the ones to profit off a sacred indigenous tradition. To this day, Indigenous Andeans are being deprived of their culture.

Coca is what cocaine is synthesized from. Cocaine is a western invention. Think of every South American stereotype you associate with cocaine; Ibañez portrays the indigenous coded king as the ultimate cartel leader. Morales pushed for indigenous rights to grow and use coca because it was sacred to his people (Ibañez is criticizing him for this, saying he was making the cocaine problem worse). There is one throwaway line in the book that references this sacred tradition, but to suggest that indigenous people are at fault for a widespread drug epidemic is horrific. Comparing her depiction of “koka” and its place in Illustrian society to its actual history, I can’t say it’s fair at all.

Conclusion: Representation Matters

This book preys upon the well-meaning liberal who wants to support books with representation. Let’s face it; not everyone is well versed in Bolivia’s history and political climate. That makes it very easy for Ibañez to insert her personal biases and get away with it. At first, I was going to give this a more gentle review because I thought the ending left room for some improvement in the sequel, but I heard the sequel is even more anti-indigenous than this and I just don’t think this series deserves support.

I know we all want representation. I wanted to like this for that sake, but we deserve better than this. Indigenous people deserve better than this.

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