New York Times bestselling author Xochitl Gonzalez delivers a mesmerizing novel about a first-generation Ivy League student who uncovers the genius work of a female artist decades after her suspicious death
1985. Anita de Monte, a rising star in the art world, is found dead in New York City; her tragic death is the talk of the town. Until it isn’t. By 1998 Anita’s name has been all but forgotten—certainly by the time Raquel, a third-year art history student is preparing her final thesis. On College Hill, surrounded by privileged students whose futures are already paved out for them, Raquel feels like an outsider. Students of color, like her, are the minority there, and the pressure to work twice as hard for the same opportunities is no secret.
But when Raquel becomes romantically involved with a well-connected older art student, she finds herself unexpectedly rising up the social ranks. As she attempts to straddle both worlds, she stumbles upon Anita’s story, raising questions about the dynamics of her own relationship, which eerily mirrors that of the forgotten artist.
Moving back and forth through time and told from the perspectives of both women, Anita de Monte Laughs Last is a propulsive, witty examination of power, love, and art, daring to ask who gets to be remembered and who is left behind in the rarefied world of the elite.
I'm a native of Brooklyn, New York, where I was raised by my maternal grandparents in South Brooklyn. A proud graduate of the New York City public school system, I studied performing arts at Edward R. Murrow high school before getting my B.A. in Fine Art and Art History at Brown University in 1999. Nearly twenty years later, on the eve of my 40th birthday, I decided to listen to the long whispered dream of writing. I attended The Bread Loaf Writers' Conference and then was accepted to the Iowa Writers' Workshop where I was an Iowa Arts Fellow and recipient of the Michener-Copernicus Prize for Fiction. I completed my MFA in May of 2021 at the tender age of 43. Before writing I worked as an entrepreneur, consultant, wedding planner, fund-raiser, tarot reader and writer of etiquette columns. I currently live back in Brooklyn with my dog Hectah Lavoe.
Writing-wise, this book deserves a much higher rating than I gave it. However. I refuse to give a high rating to this book because Ana Mendieta's family --of whom this book was heavily inspired-- wasn't consulted and did not appreciate how Ana's legacy was framed within this book.
Don't get me wrong. Conversations on institutionalized racism, misogyny, and the detriment of stereotypes need to be discussed. Just not at the expense of a real person, especially against a family's wishes.
Let me make this clear: "Anita de Monte" of ANITA DE MONTE LAUGHS LAST is actually a real-life artist, Ana Mendieta. Who, coincidentally, is not named ONCE in this book. Not in the dedication. Not in the foreword. Not even in the acknowledgments.
This is truly ironic considering that a large portion of Anita de Monte Laughs Last is the concept of Anita's legacy and intellectual property. There are even multiple conversations that are meant to examine how marginalized groups/Latina women are erased from the art world, all while effectively doing the same to Ana’s legacy. Throw in the them of how wrong it is that “Anita’s” legacy is being controlled by people who are not her family and don't have her best interests at heart? Utterly hypocritical.
Before reading this, I would encourage everyone to read this New York Times article, which is not-so-coincidentally titled: "Cuban Artist Ana Mendieta's Family Fights to Tell Her Story."
And, in the case that you don't want to read it/can't get past the paywall, here are the highlights: 1) Ana's niece was quoted saying that her family is "forced to relive [Ana's] death over and over again, but [they] have no say in how [Ana] is being portrayed." 2) Her family thought the likeness between Ana and Anita was so profound that they were worried about the line being blurred between fact and fiction. 3) Xóchitl Gonzálezdid not contact Mendieta's family at any point before, during, or after writing and selling this novel. 4) The marketing materials portray Ana/Anita as being "forgotten", a notion that her family has long been protesting.
Although there is a lot I could say about the book itself, I want to use this space instead to highlight some pieces of Ana Mendieta's legacy, since Xóchitl González couldn't be bothered to do it herself:
3.5 stars rounded down - After reading and loving the author’s “Olga Dies Dreaming”, I was really, really looking forward to “Anita De Monte Laughs Last” but I felt rather let down by it and overall just pretty “blah” and “meh” about this book. The concept was great here but the execution just didn’t work for me, way too wordy & sort of pretentious, so after several days of struggling to make real headway on it I just skimmed to get to an ending on these very complex characters. There’s a lot of (intended) misogyny and racism on display here - both the art world & Ivy League are on notice, but some of the scenes were really a bit OTT, as was the whole supernatural angle so for me this one’s sadly a miss. Many, many other reviewers have loved it though, so do check out their reviews to decide if it’s for you.
On September 8th, 1985, Cuban American artist Ana Mendieta plunged to her death from the window of a 34th floor apartment in Greenwich Village. Alone inside the apartment was her art star husband, minimalist sculptor Carl Andre. Andre was tried and acquitted for Mendieta’s murder, after a brief lull, his career continued to thrive. The narrative spun by Andre – and the white, art establishment who quickly closed ranks against Mendieta – was that his wife was unstable, an “hysterical Hispanic” who likely sacrificed herself because of her bizarre beliefs. Then, and now, successive feminist groups have worked to challenge this image of Mendieta, a pioneering performance and Land artist. And there have been fierce protests against the “not guilty” verdict awarded to Andre.
Xochitl Gonzalez’s novel is a reimagining of the life, and afterlife, of Mendieta, here reframed as Anita de Monte married to older, iconic artist Jack Martin. Gonzalez builds on themes of history, memory, culture and the body that were key to Mendieta’s work. Gonzalez also draws on aspects of her own background through the character of Raquel Toro �� who like Gonzalez – leaves her home in Brooklyn to study art history at an upscale, predominantly-white university. Gonzalez's story parallels Anita’s experiences in the 1980s with Raquel’s in the late 1990s. A move that provides the space for Gonzalez to tackle broader issues around art, women and ethnicity, and the white men whose work has dominated art history. In addition, Gonzalez explores culture shock, economic and class divides alongside domestic abuse and coercive control. It’s an ambitious, sometimes passionate piece, a work centred on cultural reclamation and cultural resistance, but Gonzalez’s emphasis on immediacy and storytelling manages to make it accessible and relatable.
Raquel is a particularly sympathetic figure, desperately staving off a stream of microaggressions, caught between worlds, no longer sure who she is or what she wants. Initially swayed by her white professor’s obsessive regard for Jack Martin’s work, it’s only when she uncovers Martin’s past and the near-buried work of Anita de Monte that she’s finally able to make sense of her own situation. I loved the ideas, and the barely-suppressed rage, driving Gonzalez’s story but some of her creative choices didn’t entirely convince me. The inclusion of Jack’s voice allowed Gonzalez to recreate the aftermath of Mendieta’s death, as well as the ways in which his position as sole inheritor of her work stifled her legacy – definite echoes of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath here. But I think many of the episodes featuring Jack might’ve been better left to the imagination. He often felt too much like a stock villain which sometimes undermined the overall force of the narrative. I liked too the image of Anita as a spectre haunting Jack and the New York artworld which so callously discarded her and her work. However, Gonzalez’s plot twist involving Anita’s transformation into something akin to a creature of the night was a step too far for me. But, flaws aside, this was a fairly compelling read, frequently moving and thought-provoking.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Bloomsbury for an ARC
While I enjoyed this before I knew more of the controversy, please read some of the other reviews. This is based on the life of Ana Mendieta, who was given no credit in the story. Her family was also against it.
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I spent most of this book horrified at the mirrored stories of white men with their Latina partners who they treated unfairly and unequally. In 1985, artist Anita de Monte is found dead from a "fall" in New York. She is with her husband, Jack Martin, another famous artist, at the time.
Later, in 1998, Raquel walks these same streets in her own unequal relationship, studying Jack's work for her thesis. Jack is taught and revered at university as a living legend. No mention is made of his being on trial for his wife's death.
The last twenty minutes were gripping. Raquel finally, for lack of a better phrase, gets her shit together, and pivots her thesis to include and focus on Anita. While I enjoy a tale of BIPOC women redemption, at times, it felt too little too late, as we spend the majority of the novel drowning in the story of these women's relationships with men who don't value them.
I don’t understand how the author has used the story of Ana Mendieta — essentially just swapping her name as Anita. Is her family involved in this project? I doubt it. It’s just so odd to me that you’re taking all the details of her life and making them into a fictional story without any reference to the real Ana Mendieta. I mean, you have every detail down to the way she died, to the type of art (Anita) makes. I found this to be problematic— how is this not just perpetuating the very same cycle Ana Mendieta was forced into when she was alive? Having people philosophize and consume her work, but actually dismiss her as a woman/person? Did you just listen to the podcast, Death of an Artist and write it all down with the name Anita instead?
Shame on this author, shame, shame, shame. I read this book and came here to give it a good review BUT when I saw the other reviews and learned about Ana Mendieta, well TBH, it disappointed me so and made me sad and angry. Why? Because in this book one of the central story lines is about how after Anita De Monte's death, her husband attempts to erase her from the art world and this book, this book....grrrrr, gimme a moment.
This book is based on Ana Mendieta's life story and it does exactly the same to her by not mentioning her, not acknowledging her but using her story, so much of her story...how is this not the same abhorrent behavior of the husband that we as the reader are supposed to find so objectionable? Had I not read the other Goodreads reviews that sent me looking for more information I would be none the wiser that there was a Cuban Artist named Ana Mendieta that met an untimely death from falling from the 34th floor of her NYC apartment, and her husband, a minimalist sculptor was accused and acquitted of her murder.
The book's dedication is: In memory of Ana. And all the women who endured solitude never knowing the rest of us were out there.. Why not include her last name? Shame on this author for co-opting this tragic tale and not shining a light on the woman whose story is at the core of her book.
Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with the author using Ana's story to build upon to create her own fictional story, the issue is the not acknowledging that a giant chunk of her "fictional" story is drawn from a tragically true story. And her fictionalization runs dangerously parallel to Ana Mendeta's real life story and her artistic endeavors, down to the very descriptions of the art used in the novel. And this lack of acknowledgment, well instead of casting light on this artist and her art just keeps her in the darkened shadows, and this is just one more tragedy to add to Ana Mendieta's tale.
Look it up, it is all out there and easily confirmable.
I loved this one even more than I did Olga Dies Dreaming. This author is so incredibly adept at weaving stories from different perspectives, and epitomizes the fact that the oppressed always know the oppressor best (I was pacing to gear up for any chapter of Jack’s). This absolutely cements Xochitl Gonzalez as an auto-buy author for me.
The story follows two strands - Anita de Monte is a Cuban artist who is married to Jack Martin. Anita is wild, free, passionate and at the beginning of her career whereas Jack is a brutalist/minimalist sculptor who is at the height of his. However as Anita's star begins to rise Jack becomes increasingly critical and then violent which erupts tragically one night, the consequence of which is that Anita goes "out the window" to her death. Suicide or murder?
The second strand follows Raquel, an art history student desperate to fit in at her Ivy League college. She thinks her prayers have been answered when Nick Fitzsimmons notices her. Nick's family are so establishment they might as well have come over on the Mayflower.
History begins to repeat itself as Raquel tries to fit into Nick's world by erasing her whole identity. But will writing her thesis about Jack Martin change the Raquel's new version of herself.
So at this point I should say a quick thankyou to another GR reviewer who has pointed me to an artist called Ana Mendieta who I had never heard of (nor had I heard of her husband, Carl Andre) or their story on which this book is so clearly based. So thankyou, Jessica Woodbury.
I can't think of many things I like so much in s novel as to be so engaged in the story that I talk to the characters. I did that almost constantly throughout this exceptional novel.
I loved it even though it absolutely drove me crazy to see these women twisting themselves into pretzels to be what their men wanted them to be. I'm not sure I've been quite this engaged or enraged by a book in a long time. Xóchitl Gonzàlez's characters bounce off the page. The writing is visceral, brutal amd emotive. It forces you to confront domestic abuse and coercive control head on.
It's an absolutely brilliant piece of work that's had me fumbling about to learn more about the work of Ana Mendieta. And for that alone I'd thank the author. However I thank her more for giving me a book to really sink my teeth into.
Very highly recommended.
Thanks so much to Netgalley and Bloomsbury for the advance review copy. I'm going to do some deep breathing to calm down now.
Perhaps it's unusual for a book's title to tell you how it ends, but I was so glad this book did. I needed to know Anita was going to laugh last because it sure doesn't feel like it's going to work out for her for much of the book. I appreciated the reassurance that it was all going to end well for Anita (and our other protagonist, Raquel) so I could sit back and enjoy the journey. And it's a fun journey! Turns out being dead has its perks.
The parallel plots here are more than just echoes, more than just stories that will intertwine. It's not just that Anita and Raquel are both Latina and navigating an unfamiliar upper class mostly white world. It's also that Raquel finds starting exactly the kind of relationship that was the end of Anita.
Unlike González's debut novel, Olga Dies Dreaming, which had a complex plot with a lot of nuance around politics and class, this book is simple. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is different. It's doing one thing, even with its parallel plots both women encounter similar obstacles. And sometimes here González tends to just name the theme and the point she wants to make instead of just showing it to you. All that said, it does what it does well. If sometimes it's unclear why Anita was with Jack in the first place, Raquel's plot lets us fill in the blanks, lets us understand the attraction. And once again González takes the bold step of letting a terrible white man be not only a primary focus but get to have his own first person point of view chapters, a risky move but one she executes really well.
Sometimes books about artists can feel empty, like we're supposed to imagine this great art that doesn't feel like all that much. But here González does a fantastic job helping us visualize the works of Anita and of Jack, understanding what their work means to them and to the broader art world. It's one of the best novels to imagine art that I can recall. (Note: okay so maybe it's not completely imagining art. Anita de Monte is clearly a fictional version of Ana Mendieta, their names are practically anagrams. Their early lives are different, though both are Cuban. But Mendieta's work is similar to what González creates for Anita and Mendieta's death was in virtually identical circumstances. Once I realized this I thought it was a beautiful homage, an opportunity to reintroduce a generation to an artist. The audio version I listened to didn't include any of this but I hope the print does, I was glad to know it!)
I read this on audio and really recommend it. The readers are both good, but Anita's reader in particular brings so much life and personality to her. Sometimes an over the top delivery in audio can feel like too much but here it feels perfect for Anita, who is naturally over the top.
Oh how I really wanted to like this book. But the more I reflect on my time spent (wasted? mmm maybe too harsh) reading, the more I find myself disengaged and disinterested in our (far too long) time spent together.
Anita de Monte Laughs Last is definitely an interesting premise for a book -a supposedly reverting and immersive look at the misogynistic and racist underbelly (though let’s face it, it’s pretty obvious to those on the “outside” aka anyone that’s not a white man) of the art world. However it’s execution left very little to be desired, and was rather lukewarm and disappointingly unoriginal in its telling.
Not only were both storylines (as Gonzales attempts to create dual narrative here) boringly predictable -no thanks to the fact that both narratives and characters essentially reflected the same thing (and before you point out that that’s part of the point “history repeating itself” etc, I do get that, but it far too overt for my liking). No for me it mainly came down to the characters themselves. Who all felt sadly superficial and stereotypical in their portrayal -and I mean ALL characters; Latina, black and white here.
If you’re looking for an easy -maybe YA/“Beach” kinda read (not that there’s anything wrong with either of those types of books -they definitely have a time and a place, just not my time and/or place lol), then this may be the perfect pick for you.
2/2.5 sluggish stars
PS - thanks again to the publishers for sending me a copy though :)
What a great book. Well written and a easy read that keeps you turning the pages. Anita de Monte is a young, beautiful Cuban American artists living in 1980s New York City and her career is set to take off just as that of her modern art titan husband's seems to be declining. When she dies an unexpected death the book takes a haunting and beautiful turn. Sort of a supernatural turn. Full of suspense and worth reading. Highly recommend.
Ana Mendieta was a Cuban-American performance artist in the 1980s. Her career was gaining traction when, in 1985, she fell from the window of her 34th-floor NY apartment. The only other person in the apartment at the time was her husband. He was charged with her murder, but less than a year later, he was acquitted of the charges.
This is the story that inspired Anita de Monte Laughs Last.
PLOT Anita de Monte is living in America with her celebrated artist husband, Jack Martin. But their marriage is fraught with tension and resentment -- Jack does not respect anitas work as an artist and instead expects her to be the perfect little wife; nothing but a piece of his well cultivated persona. When Anita's work starts getting more notice and acclaim, Jack begins to grow increasingly jealous.
Fast forward to the year 1998, Anita de Monte is all but forgotten. Enter Raquel, an art history student working on her thesis at a very prestigious university. Raquel often feels like a bit of an outsider, she is a minority at the school and did not come from the same privileged upbringing as most of her classmates.
While attending an art exhibit for a friend, Raquel meets Nick, a fellow student and rising star in the art world. The two become inseparable.
All the while the ghost of Anita is trapped without power and without hope. An artist puts pieces of their soul into their art; when their art is alive, so are they. But Anita's art has not been alive in over a decade, instead hidden away in storage lockers and basements, put there by her husband. She waits for the day when her art (her 'babies' as she calls them) will be seen and appreciated once again.
PEOPLE In Anita de Monte Laughs Last we follow three separate POVs: Anita, Raquel and Jack
I loved Anita. She was ANRGY -- and who can blame her? I was angry too. I listened to the audio version of this and I thought the narrator who voiced Anita was spot on. I saw some reviews that thought she was a little *intense* but I ATE. IT. UP. Anita was angry. she wanted revenge. she wanted her life back. The way she was narrated reflected that. <-- all that being said, maybe turn down the volume during Anita's POV if you listen to the audio.
I thought Jack's POV was really interesting, and again the narrator was talented, but sometimes Jacks villainy was borderline caricature-ish. He said all the villain like things and thought all the villain like thoughts. the only thing missing was a swivel chair and a dramatic cackle. Still, I liked the hauntings from his perspective. I don't think they would have felt as spooky told from a different POV.
And lastly we have Raquel. The problem I had with Raquel was the number of times she made me want to shake her and scream "GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR BOYFRIENDS ASS". It was so frustrating to watch her be controlled and belittled CONSTANTLY. But her experience is actually a reality for a lot of women, and that is partly why its so damn frustrating. We see her loosing herself in this relationship, prioritizing him over her, trying to mold herself into *his* perfect woman. AND IT MADE ME SO MAD. And
FINAL THOUGHTS This is a great revenge story. Its a great haunting story. But it's also a great story about the struggle to fit into a world that does not accept you, and finding pride within yourself and your roots.
I Recommend this book if you like: Contemporary Art Hip Hop Revenge Hauntings Female Rage
TW: death murder eating disorders domestic abuse coercive control
Siri play “Little Girl Gone” by Chinchilla
Thank you to NetGalley and Macmillan Audio for the arc
I'd like to thank Netgalley for an advanced listener copy of this novel. The opinions expressed below are entirely my own.
Recently, the NYT published an article about the actual artist that this book is based on, Ana Mendieta. (https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/02/st...) I have included the relevant bits below for those who can't access it, but I suggest looking into Ana Mendieta herself, since she's the one who deserves recognition.
In the article, it states that, "Lately, the Ana Mendieta estate is concerned about two new projects. ... And this month, Xochitl Gonzalez will publish “Anita de Monte Laughs Last,” a novel that follows an art history student who feels an uncanny connection to a Cuban performance artist named Anita who fell 33 stories from her New York City apartment in 1985.
Reading an advance copy of the book last fall, Ms. Mendieta noticed that several details in Anita de Monte’s back story appeared to correspond with her aunt’s. The likeness was so profound, she said, that the “line between fact and fiction” was blurred.
Ms. Gonzalez, who is of Puerto Rican and Mexican descent, said she felt as if she shared a “cultural lineage” with Ana Mendieta when she discovered her work as an art student at Brown University in the 1990s. Her character Anita was meant to be a homage to the artist, she said, not a direct analogue: After Anita falls in the book, she turns into a bat.
Ms. Mendieta protested the notion that her aunt was “forgotten” in the ’90s, a characterization of the fictional Anita de Monte included in the book’s marketing materials. And she was frustrated that Ms. Gonzalez had not contacted the estate before writing, and then selling, her novel."
In fact, there is no afterword given that acknowledges that this book is entirely based on Ana Mendieta - from her husband to the very clear descriptions of her art. I wouldn't have known about this if it hadn't been for the reviews on Goodreads pointing out the similarities and the NYT article. I would have expected Gonzalez to try bring light to Ana Mendieta and her tragic death instead of writing something that feels as if she is sensationalizing it and using it for her own profit.
Two stars for helping me find out about Ana Mendieta.
This novel explores the life of Anita de Monte, an emerging artist whose untimely death in 1985 New York City becomes a forgotten tragedy, and Raquel, an Ivy League art history student who, decades later, uncovers Anita's work while grappling with her own place in a world that feels alien to her. Both women are dynamic, complicated, and deeply rooted in their cultures despite what the art world demands of them.
The writing is so smart and emotionally intelligent. Not to mention that I love an obviously well-researched book. Gonzalez crafts a narrative rich with themes of ambition, identity, and the relentless pursuit of recognition in spaces marred by systemic bias. Only by reading other reviews now have I learned the book is a reimagining of the life (and afterlife) of Ana Mendieta. I, too, hope she is expressly recognized in the written book.
The three points of view—Anita, Raquel, and Jack (trigger warning: DV)—are done so well by the narrators—Jessica Pimentel, Stacy Gonzalez, and Jonathan Gregg, respectively. Their clear skill and connection with the characters (not you Johnathan, pls, I'm begging that you share nothing with Jack) brought it up to 5 ⭐️ for me.
Thanks to Netgalley, Macmillan Audio, Xóchitl González, Jessica Pimentel, Stacy Gonzalez, and Jonathan Gregg for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
In the mid-1980s, female artist Anita de Monte is on the rise before she dies in a tragic accident. By the late 90s, her presence in the art world is virtually forgotten. When Raquel, an Ivy League art history student, learns of Anita’s existence, she begins to look into her story and her untimely death.
Told from POVs in two different timelines, Anita de Monte Laughs Last is a story about art, academics, cultural identity, being a woman in a male-dominated field, and legacy.
I could have passed on the supernatural/magical realism element, but it didn’t detract too much from my enjoyment of the book. Audiobook narrators (Jessica Pimentel, Stacy Gonzalez, and Jonathan Gregg) did a great job animating the characters and bringing Anita de Monte Laughs Last to life — 3.5 stars
4 Stars for Excellent Audio book done on a dual timeline. It covers the story of Anita de Monte who is a passionate feminist Cuban performance artist. Her husband, Jack thinks of himself as the true artist. Early on, Anita goes out the window of their Greenwich Village Apartment. Anita makes it crystal clear exactly what occurred that night. She is furious his name rises and her work is forgotten.
Later, in the 1990’s, Rachel, of Puerto Rican descent feels so honored to be accepted into Brown University. She easily goes alone with her Professor and Mentor’s plan to write about Jack. She doesn’t question her opinions about having her own feelings about Anita influencing her husband, him using her art, that he was tried for her murder, since he seems to be an authority. She dates a White, Spoiled, Rich Guy whose Mother holds much influence. He begins to mold her in the way that will make her more accessible as he sees it and says he is helping her often.
So, the story is about difference in race, origin, class, influence, and how that plays out in the mostly White Male viewpoints of what real Art is. This means many who are different and present other ideas often are not taken seriously. Their ideas become erased. I enjoyed the story and narration and would give the book 4 Stars.
I am deducting a Star since this story of Anita de Monte is heavily attached to Ana Mendieta whose family has fought to keep her work and name known. Xochitl Gonzalez’ book is about erasing others, yet it seems ironic that she never mentions Ana falling off her balcony and her husband was tried and acquitted of her murder. Her work is often reflected in his many say, but much of her work has not been explored. She does not mention her at all. This does not seem right to me. It Erases Ana again. Xochitl Gonzalez, I hope plans to now discuss Ana’s art and role it played in this book.
Thank you NetGalley, Xochitl Gonzalez, and Macmillan Audio for a copy of this book. I always leave reviews of books I read.
I thought this year I was having good luck picking my books, but most of what I’ve read lately has been a letdown. The synopsis of Anita de Monte Laughs Last sounded super interesting and fun and I was down to read it but holy hell was this bad (to me). Pretentious, wordy, dumb. It also had clear messages to feed to the readers but it was all too on the nose.
The book has three main POVs, Anita de Monte (who, as far as I understand, is heavily inspired by a real-life artist named Ana Mendieta. Mentioned isn’t mentioned in the book and it seems the family was not aware of this book coming out), Raquel, and Jack. Jack was married to Anita and wrote a thesis and Raquel is studying said thesis. And let me get this straight: every character is so effing annoying. I cannot explain how annoying it was to read them. It was all so much drama, pretentiousness, and blah blah blah. I skimmed most of the dialogue because it was just so dumb.
So all in all: - Story: boring. What was this book about? I cannot even tell. - Characters: you could pay me a million dollars and I would not agree to have a coffee with any of them. They all collectively had the brain cells and the depth of a teaspoon. - Writing: wordy, flashy, and obnoxious. It tried too hard to be social justice warrior-y and this made the characters seem stereotypical/unrealistic. - Ethical grounds (?): it seems a bit shitty to basically retell someone’s life and not give them any credit? Ana Mendieta should’ve been mentioned somewhere? It’s also very ironic that a book trying to scream from the rooftop about feminism and against racism is actually stealing the story of a Latina (in my opinion and if it’s true the family was not contacted at all).
Don’t read it yourself, but do recommend it to your worst enemy, I guess?
Too much rage not enough art. I was interested in reading this when I read the background article on it that I saw soon after it was released. It is a fictional story based on the life, work and tragic death of the artist Ana Mendieta. While the story is a good one I did feel the author did a disservice to the artist and her family by never acknowledging Mendieta anywhere in the book (not even in the acknowledgments) as the inspiration for this story.
It is a sad story but I was hoping for more about the art and less about the anger/rage and domestic abuse this author chose to highlight. It is a dual timeline story. The primary timeline of the female artist and her marriage to another artist that ends in the tragedy of her death. The second more current timeline, a young art history student at Brown University also Latina coming of age and discovering the circumstances of de Monte's death and how she has been all but forgotten and buried by the art world. The story evolves into a ghost story as de Monte takes a lot of her anger primarily against her husband as he continues to highlight his own career and takes many steps to bury hers.
The audio had far too much screaming and rage for my taste and I ended up turning to the print. It is well written and has much to recommend it but I found the presentation to harsh and wanted it to focus less on the artist's death and its aftermath and more on her life and all that she brought to her art.
In 1985, a Latina artist (Anita de Monte) on the verge of fame dies suddenly when she falls from a Manhattan apartment window. Many suspect her husband, one of the art world’s premier names, but he’s acquitted. Thirteen years later, a college-level artist named Racquel is working on a doctorate at Brown when she stumbles across de Monte’s work…and the mystery of her death.
The strength of this novel is the feminist arc. Raquel and Anita are powerful figures whose genius is marginalized by their male partners. They’re smart, ambitious, and though you can’t see their artwork, Gonzalez describes it all wonderfully, especially in the case of Anita. The male characters do everything to hold them back, but they fight and fight and fight, even beyond the grave. It’s a roadmap to male control, and the author gives us a clear way out. Nice to have strong female characters, even better to have them live out the great ideas.
I’m not one for magical realism, but the “ghost” angle worked for me. There’s a bat that attacks Jack, his girlfriend, and agent, and it was fantastic. A great method of revenge from beyond the grave. Then, Anita moves Jack’s art around, which gains him praise…for which he can’t really take credit, and which drives him mad. So, so clever.
But there was far too much that didn’t work for me. I fought off the DNF. Once again, go to Bikini Bottom to learn more. (I might try Olga Dies Dreaming anyway, since I like the themes here.)
• I wouldn’t hang out with these artsy types for all the art in the MoMA. They were massively annoying. I guess Racquel was OK, but even she’s a little too arrogant for me. • Anita’s story is based on the life of an actual artist with the exact same story: Ana Mendieta. Seems a little wrong to create a work of fiction based on that person and not ask the family for permission at all, nor even mention her in the acknowledgments. I think I’d have preferred to read the biography. • The men are comically bad. Not one redeeming quality, not a moment of explanation. Jack is too awful to be believed, or so crappy that I got annoyed at having to read another chapter of his. As for Nick, he’s a little more real, but such a douche that I don’t feel the chemistry between him and Racquel. It’s not a real relationship. Hey, I get it: there are some bad, controlling, even racist men out there. But Gonzalez does it to death. • The summary hints at this supernatural connection between Racquel and Anita, but it never happens. Any association happens after about 75%. Before that, they’re just parallel stories that never meet nor even have much to do with one another. • Toward the end, one character has a revelation that, to me, is much too easy. Didn’t like it. • For a book with tension, anger, and bitter conflict, the ending seemed incongruous. A bit "Scooby-Doo" for such a caustic tone.
1985. A rising artist, Anita de Monte, is found dead in New York City under suspicious circumstances. By 1998, her name has been largely forgotten. But when Raquel, a third-year art history student preparing for her thesis, stumbles upon Anita's story, she questions the dynamics of her relationship that eerily mirrors the late artist's.
Following two Latinx women in the art & academia across a decade, González brilliantly explores the psychological burden of Brown women surviving in white-dominant spaces and their conscious/unconscious need for white validation.
The dual timeline works well in juxtaposing Anita & Raquel's struggles and exposes how little has changed for women of color to move through institutions built to uphold white supremacy. From microaggressions and sexism to the false belief of meritocracy, my heart especially aches for all that Raquel has to endure.
While some chapters are a little on the nose, I love the unexpected twist that portrays Anita as the ultimate unhinged woman. The sharp, sarcastic writing keeps me engaged and rooting for Anita to exact her revenge. LAST reminds me of DISORIENTATION (Elaine Hsieh Chou), YELLOWFACE (R.F. Kuang), and THE TREES (Percival Everett), and I loved every moment of it.
The full-cast audiobook is phenomenal and captures each character's emotions & personalities perfectly. Reading LAST is noticing the simmering rage within me threatening to boil over; I laughed, I raged, and I think you will too.
Quick thoughts: Damn! This was such an incredible read that centers the power of female rage from Latinx women who are given scraps by white America and expected to be thankful. This story unfolds in dual timelines. One timeline (1985) follows Anita de Monte, a rising star in the art world whose life meets a tragic and unjust end. The other timeline (1998) follows Raquel, a brown art student in a sea of white who learns of Anita’s story, which mirrors so much of her own. Don’t let this character driven plot fool you, I flew through these pages as I was desperate to find out more about Anita and her rage that was palpable from start to finish. Anita is an incredible character, and I wanted to burn down the world for her. Her passion is infectious, and I love that Gonzalez doesn’t care whether the audience loves her or not. Raquel is the antithesis of Anita at first, but when she really dives into the injustice of Anita’s story, she becomes an absolute force in her own right. Gonzalez does an incredible job of examining the question of who gets to have their stories glorified in history versus who gets left behind…and of course, you know which side the upper echelon will always choose. While this book may want you to scream and throw things, it’s impeccably written and worth the emotions.
Thank you Flatiron Books and Macmillan Audio for providing a review copy.
TL;DR:So disappointing! Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xóchitl González is another well-written, captivating read that I gave a low rating to because the author appropriates a real life person's story (Ana Mendieta) and tragedy without acknowledgment.
Anita de Monte Laughs Last follows two timelines. The first follows the titular Anita de Monte, an upcoming Cuban American artist in a fractious marriage with Jack Martin, a minimalist darling in the art world. Jack’s cruel narcissism and Anita’s strong sense of self-worth clash repeatedly, until one day Anita is found dead after a fall from their New York City apartment in 1985. The second timeline takes place in the late 1990s from the perspective of Raquel, an art history student at Brown University who is eager to find her place in the elite art world. Raquel chooses to write her thesis on Jack Martin but discovers the forgotten art and life of Anita de Monte in the process, changing her life trajectory.
The chapters from Raquel’s perspective are the strongest part of the story. Raquel’s life, perspective, and relationships are fleshed out and vibrant; González expertly builds the world around her and explores how that world’s exclusivity, xenophobia, and racism negatively affects Raquel’s career and personal life. The little details make this story come to life, and it’s clear that it comes from a place that is close to the author’s heart and experiences. Through Raquel’s work in the art world, the book also makes some interesting points about culture, art, and storytelling.
Anita’s chapters are captivating due to González’s strong writing style, but something about Anita’s character feels off to me. Anita is significantly less developed as a character than Raquel; despite the book’s repeated assertions that Anita’s Cuban identity and past profoundly shape her character and her work, these elements remain blurry and underdeveloped. I looked up reviews of this book on GoodReads and discovered that Anita’s story is directly inspired by the true life and death of Cuban American artist Ana Mendieta, right down to the small details about Anita’s life and work. (Thank you to Avery Desmond and emma and for bringing this to my attention in their reviews! I would tag y'all if I knew how to do so)
This is a problem for two reasons.
One, González never makes it clear to the reader that Anita’s story is a fictional retelling of a real-life tragedy. Nowhere in this book does it say that it was inspired by real people and events, and the author does not mention Mendieta by her full name; the most she gets is a quick first-name mention in the dedication. Which is so fucking weird, especially since one of the book’s biggest morals is how important it is to remember the names and contributions of women of color in art, especially for people like Anita, who were victimized and mistreated in their life and death. So why does it feel like González is intentionally deceiving her audience and burying the real story of Ana Mendieta?
Two, González is a non-Cuban author fictionalizing the story of a real Cuban American person, and it shows. Her depictions of Cuba and Anita’s Cuban-ness feel way more stereotypical and flat compared to Raquel’s. The book asserts that Anita is more than just a “spicy Cuban” stereotype, but ultimately, that’s all she really gets to be in the story. The author relegates her background, family life, and relationship to Cuba to just a handful of sentences, and almost all we see of Anita are moments where she’s angry, spiteful, or vengeful. That’s not to say that Anita doesn’t have a good reason for her anger, but I think a Cuban author who truly felt strongly about doing service to Ana’s story would do a much better job at crafting a fully realized character. Again, González’s choice to write Anita clashes with the values espoused in the book, which makes clear the perils of divorcing art from a person’s cultural background. Why did González feel like she was the right person to tell Ana Mendieta’s story, and why doesn’t she even acknowledge that she’s telling it?
I’m so disappointed, because Raquel’s story could have stood on its own as this book’s only narrative. As I said earlier, Raquel’s chapters are well-written, powerful, and engaging. González wouldn’t need to change anything about Raquel’s story, except to replace the name “Anita de Monte” with “Ana Mendieta” and mention the real-life artist in an author’s note. But because González decided to appropriate a historical tragedy without acknowledgment, this book left a bad taste in my mouth.
Thank you #partner @macmillan.audio for my #gifted audiobook
Anita De Monte Laughs Last Xochitl Gonzalez
Listen.... this might be a controversial statement, but there are some books that are just better on audio, and this is one of them! 🙌🏼 And that's not to say this book isn't excellent in its own right, because it absolutely is, but hot damn! This book + this audiobook performance = outstanding!!!!
📖 In Gonzalez's sophomore novel, we're introduced to two Latina artists, in two seperate timelines over a decade apart, as they make their mark within a world that makes them work twice as hard for half as much.
📌 Swipe to read more
💭 This book is bold, fiery, feminist, and I L.O.V.E.D. it! I loved the combination of an 80s-90s murder mystery with dark academia vibes, as well as the important social commentary on sexism, racism, tokenism, and privilege within the art world. Gonzalez triumphantly examines the racialized and genderized power dynamics in relationships, specifically within art and art commerse. She bases this book, in part, on her own experiences at Brown University, and on a real life case that mirrors Anita's.
I loved Olga Dies Dreaming, but this one is spectacular!
🎧 The icing on the proverbial cake is the dynamic cast of narrators who performed their asses off! Such emotion! I could feel Jessica Pimentel's rage seeping through my headphones! 🔥 Friends, if you listen to audiobooks, you don't want to sleep on this one.
Yes, it’s (at least in part) a fictional take on the life and death of the artist Ana Mendieta, and I understand why that’s problematic for many readers/reviewers…but I found the novel to be thoughtful, meaningful, and a fully engaging read. It’s not especially subtle, and some readers will balk at the author’s choices regarding the multiple narrative voices…none of this bothered me. Every once in a while, a more or less uncomplicated happy ending (not a spoiler…check out the title!) is okay by me. This was both entertaining and, ultimately, uplifting.
*** 9/28/24 *** It wasn't until I finished this book that I read other reviews and discovered the controversy about the author not fully naming real-life artist Ana Mendieta, upon whom the book's central event is based. I don't understand why she didn't disclose that, and despite that upsetting revelation, I thought the book was excellent.
What I am not seeing in reviews is how this is a novel about affirmative action, misogyny, and caste systems in the US based on race, wealth, and university rankings. While some of the storylines seemed extreme (the Art Girls dinner party is one such example), the book does a masterful job of braiding two timelines together about two women of color who are connected to the "Art World": Anita, a rising Cuban artist, and Raquel, an Ivy-league art history student.
I put "Art World" in quotes because this isn't the first novel in which the absolute BS of who gets rich and famous in the art world is revealed.
As the story evolves, the reader sees the parallels in the two women's lives (relationships with the art community, white men, and wealthy people are three of the similarities we read about). We also see the women learn about themselves, what they are willing to give up for love/lust, and discover their POWER.
Author Gonzalez then merges these two women's storylines together in what I thought was a fantastic conclusion. Very satisfying for the reader to see Raquel further Anita's story, and make massive inroads against systemic issues in the world of elite education, art, scholarship, and socially, for not only POC, but women of all colors.
Xochitl (sounds like "So-cheel") Gonzalez's writing is insightful, well-crafted and deeply engaging. Note that there is some magical realism I wasn't expecting in the book, but that didn't put me off. One could view it as a manifestation of karma or something spiritual, if you don't vibe with the precise way it was portrayed. I felt it added to the story.
I also read the author's prior book, Olga Dies Dreaming, and felt it was very well done (review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... ). It is clear this is an author to watch. 4.5 stars.
*** 9/27/24 *** A few highlights from Xochitl' Gonzalez's Anita de Monte Laughs Last (a Reese's book club pick). Review coming soon..............
After years where I was the only brown speck in attendance, lately there’d been a noted effort to populate the guest list with more “Third World Artists.”
If you were in New York and in the art world, you did not refuse an invitation from Tilly Barber.
He always came back from Rome with the longest stories. I was distracted; knowing that at any moment, he’d arrive! Jack Martin. My husband. And then, as if I willed it by simply glaring at the doorway, he did. Jack likes to enter rooms slowly.
I was wearing my favorite dress, the one I’d bought in Iowa from a secondhand store. It was from the ’60s, with big silver paillettes, each as large and round as the eye of a cow. Clustered so tight and voluminously, they tinkled, soft, like wind chimes when they rustled together.
“Tilly was just telling me,” Jack said, as he refilled our glasses, the grin still taut on his face. “A dozen prints sold to the Met. Not bad for my little orphan Anita.”
Human will is a particularly powerful magic. Alchemy happens when a person truly decides something; when a mind is changed. We’d shared exchanges like this hundreds of times before, my husband and I. Tiny acts of violence enacted with words. Exchanges that had cut and left me bleeding, with my best stuff—confidence, clarity—pooling down, away from me, onto the floor. But not that night. No. Because that day I had decided to reclaim my might; to cease to be shrunk. And in my decision, I’d grown a new version of myself. My new skin thick like coconut shells, impervious to his attempts to crack my joy. My triumph at my accomplishments, my exultation with my own art, euphoria at this new power I’d discovered in simply deciding to change my mind. All of it now in safekeeping, deep inside my new self. I pulled from his embrace and turned to him, with a smile so genuine on my face, and I said: “Jack, the night is still young.”
Around me, I could feel their thoughts and assessments and presumptions. Anita de Monte, art star on the rise. Anita de Monte, winner of the Rome Prize, winner of the Guggenheim. Anita de Monte, a once-in-a-generation artistic voice. Anita de Monte, a one-trick pony. Anita de Monte, immigrant opportunist. Anita de Monte, wife of the legendary Jack Martin. Anita de Monte, lucky bitch. Anita de Monte, the most miserable bitch alive. No one realizing that I was all these things at once and more.
could it be, pushed?) out the window, this was what everyone would talk about. How they had just seen her! Anita de Monte. That very night! How she had been laughing. And how she had been dancing. And how, when she spun around and around, the silver sequins of her dress went flying. Up and into the air. Like the feathers of a molting bird.
They’d met during “Third World Week”—an orientation for every freshman who checked any box other than Caucasian on their application—but they bonded over their shared aversion to the program’s unfortunate name. A name, they were told, rooted in activism and struggle. The program, according to the brochure, intended to be “an inclusive and empowering gathering of historically marginalized students in the school’s long and illustrious history.” But three days in, Mavette deemed it “too serious and too boring” and jumped ship for the International Orientation instead, one marked less by workshops in the “isms” and equity and more by wine tastings and EDM dance parties.
Lebanese by way of Paris, Mavette had gone to a posh international school where they believed no one “saw color.” America’s “obsession with race” was, according to Mavette, “provincial.”
“Marriage isn’t a trap, but marrying unstrategically might be,” Mavette had recounted to Raquel over drinks the evening before. Raquel was flummoxed. Future focused as she was, she had barely dated, let alone considered doing so “strategically.” And then Mavette stated plainly what Margot so astutely observed—yes, their mothers were all professionally successful, but their fathers were also all rich. One could never have happened without the other.
Except on Sundays when the Third World took over. For twenty-four glorious hours, the airwaves were given over to what the music marketplace called Black Music, with the tiniest of nods to Latin: gospel in the early mornings, soul and classics after that, jazz at brunch, new hip-hop and R&B in the afternoon, reggae and soca in the evenings. And, of course, the nights closed out with the best baby-making music north of New York’s WBLS. Because the breadth and depth and diversity of the entirety of Black Music had to squeeze into a mere twenty-four hours, the day was named the 360° Black Experience in Sound.
She appreciated Marcus and his honesty; that they could be real with each other without it ever getting too heavy. He reminded her that everything didn’t have to be so loaded. A Brooklynite like her, Marcus was the only effortless relationship she had found in college; she was a fan before she was a friend. In the First World, no one knew or cared who the DJs on WBRU were, but in the Third World, the people who gave Brown—no, the city—the 360° Black Experience? They were heroes.
Marcus was indifferent to Raquel’s art world, largely because he was indifferent to any activity that wasn’t unapologetically pro-Black. Or free.
We weren’t yet married, but even so, I’d say that the night Jack’s Berkeley show opened was the beginning of the end for us. This night where, at a large dinner on “one of the most important nights” of Jack’s career—when I couldn’t take another minute of being ignored—I made “a spectacle of myself.” But someone else could say no, the beginning of the end was when I agreed to go to Berkeley with him in the first place, instead of taking the artists’ residency in Florida.
I would also have to consider that, actually, the beginning of the end was the very first time I ever chose Jack Martin over myself. But that line of thinking is depressing, isn’t it? Because if I were to think of the first moment I prioritized Jack’s desires over my own—if I were to truly pinpoint it? Well, I think I would find it uncomfortably close to the start of things.
But now, for Jack having a whole museum full of people talking about him and his work, that wasn’t enough. He needed to turn my pain into cocktail conversation.
He walked us out to the car that the museum had sent, opened up the back door, threw me into the back seat, and told the driver to take me to the fucking house. I was on my way to the airport before he even got home; and I never, ever put Jack in front of myself again.
He’d flown to Rome to reconcile and soon enough, they were planning a wedding. Marriage, he was certain, would change things. About her. About him. But a few months later he was showing in London and met Maeve. And shortly after that, Anita stopped showing him her work.
Raquel was well versed in the luxuries her classmates’ parents availed for them: fancy video cameras, laptop computers, designer handbags and clothes. She envied little of it. These, she knew, were the signifiers of wealth that were easily simulated. Pedestrian markers that were, for the truly wealthy, merely window dressing.
By the transitive property, that meant that Nick had money, but she had not actively thought of him as a “rich person.” He just was. “Did you guys know his parents own a custom Jack Martin?” Claire said to everyone and no one at once. “His mom went all over the East Side bragging about it a few years ago.”
“She’s kind of right, Raquel. All this time, you don’t even talk to white people unless they’re faculty, and suddenly Mavette tells you our idea and, next thing you know, you’ve got a white boyfriend who happens to come from not one but two New York trust fund families?” “What? What are you talking about? I’m not a racist.” “Tell us the name of a white friend that you have,” Margot asked flatly. “Besides your boyfriend’s sister.” “I can’t be a racist. Minorities can’t be racist because we are the victims of racism.”
How had she arrived for a dinner and was now being called a racist gold digger by these women she barely knew?
“Racism is about power,” she said, icily to Mavette before turning to Margo and Claire. “I have no power here.
“You know, Raquel,” Claire said, “you’re not stupid. That’s the thing. And I don’t mean in class. We all see how you work John Temple; how you manipulate the faculty. This poor, pitiful public school kid routine. Poor little minority, always so fucking earnest about how hard she works.”
And so Roberto explained to me that all spirits could visit dreams and climb the ceiba, but that only artists and muses could become bats.
She realized that there were a lot of songs about cheating and unreliability and all of those things, but very few about shame. Feeling ashamed of yourself for letting someone think that they were better than you.
see the pattern. The same story again and again and again. How he diminishes her and she gets furious and then she leaves and then he chases and she wants to feel like she matters to someone and so she takes him back. And from him I felt the longing, the longing to keep her; half as a person and half as an object. An object he didn’t want to lose. (Boys hate to lose their toys.) And I knew then, from the feelings of fear radiating from him, how one day he would grow up and these insecurities in his young heart would become entrenched. And how her loneliness would never be abated by him, just exacerbated. And how because of this it would escalate until he would humiliate her and she would get furious and at some point he would feel indignant over her fury! Do something so terrible she would have to leave, and then he would chase and she’d want to feel like she mattered to someone and so she would take him back.
After year upon year of fear that the slightest misstep might derail her prospects for the future, or undo all of the work and commitment she had already put into thinking about her life, these last months taught her that nothing was yet set in stone. There were always second chances and unexpected opportunities, and if you were willing to stay open to them, new ways of seeing things.
She’s done it again. Whether you’re already a fan of Gonzalez’s work (Olga Dies Dreaming, her commentary pieces for The Atlantic, etc) or you’re new here, this book will ensure you’re a fan for life. Anita de Monte is a young, beautiful Cuban American artists living in 1980s NYC and her career is set to take off—just as that of her modern art titan husband’s seems to be cooling. When she dies an untimely death (not a spoiler, I promise!), the book takes a haunting, beautiful, supernatural-ish turn. Anita’s story intertwines with that Raquel, a first-generation Nuyorican student at an elite New England college in the 1990s. The two stories begin to intersect as Raquel starts work on her art history senior thesis. Gonzalez perfectly captures her native New York and the art world of the 80s, as we well as campus life and the racial and class divisions that shaped it during that time. While the book tackles serious topics, the story never feels heavy (in fact, there are even a number of very funny parts)—the balance is perfect, the world-building is spot on and the characters are unforgettable. And you will never look at bats the same way again!