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Fiebre Tropical
Lit by the hormonal neon glow of Miami, this heady, multilingual debut novel follows a Colombian teenager’s coming-of-age and coming out as she plunges headfirst into lust and evangelism.
Uprooted from Bogotá into an ant-infested Miami townhouse, fifteen-year-old Francisca is miserable in her strange new city. Her alienation grows when her mother is swept up in an evangelical church, replete with abstinent salsa dancers and baptisms for the dead. But there, Francisca meets the magnetic Carmen: head of the youth group and the pastor’s daughter. As her mother’s mental health deteriorates, Francisca falls for Carmen and is saved to grow closer with her, even as their relationship hurtles toward a shattering conclusion.
Uprooted from Bogotá into an ant-infested Miami townhouse, fifteen-year-old Francisca is miserable in her strange new city. Her alienation grows when her mother is swept up in an evangelical church, replete with abstinent salsa dancers and baptisms for the dead. But there, Francisca meets the magnetic Carmen: head of the youth group and the pastor’s daughter. As her mother’s mental health deteriorates, Francisca falls for Carmen and is saved to grow closer with her, even as their relationship hurtles toward a shattering conclusion.
287 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 4, 2020
183 people are currently reading
8179 people want to read
About the author
Juli Delgado Lopera
2 books6 followersJuli Delgado Lopera is the author of The New York Times acclaimed novel Fiebre Tropical (Feminist Press 2020), the Winner of the 2021 Ferro Grumley Award and a 2021 Lambda Literary award; a finalist of the 2020 Kirkus Prize in Fiction and the 2021 Aspen Literary Prize. Juli is also the author of Quiéreme (Nomadic Press 2017) and ¡Cuéntamelo! (Aunt Lute 2017) an illustrated bilingual collection of oral histories by LGBT Latinx immigrants which won a 2018 Lambda Literary Award and a 2018 Independent Publisher Book Award. Juli's received fellowships and residencies from Hedgebrook, Headlands Center for The Arts, Brush Creek Foundation of the Arts, Lambda Literary Foundation, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts and The SF Grotto. Their work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Granta, Teen Vogue, The Kenyon Review, McSweeney's, The Rumpus, The White Review, LALT, Four Way Review, Broadly, TimeOut Mag to name a few. They are the former executive director of RADAR Productions a queer literary non-profit in San Francisco.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 260 reviews
August 13, 2020
This writer has a strong, confident voice and at times the writing is electric. Overall the story doesn’t quite hold together with too much narrative drift but I still really liked this book, the Spanglish, the sense of place, all of it. Can’t wait to see what this writer does next.
July 6, 2023
Bueno, mi gente, esta es una historia unlike anything I’ve read before, un poco salvaje y divertida, full of references pa’ la diáspora Latinoamericana: vi’va’po’rub, Don Francisco, Marimar (¡Thalía!).
Unapologetically bilingüe, Fiebre Tropical is written enteramente en Spanglish. It is unique and kooky and out there, exploring issues of queerness, immigration, and fanatismo religioso. Nuestra heroína, Francisca, is a Colombian teen who is utterly miserable after moving to los Mayamis con su mamá y su abuela. Francisca’s mom seems to slowly be losing her cordura, planning a baptism for a muñeco and forcing Francisca to accept Jesucristo into her heart.
En realidad que se me hizo un poco difícil terminar este libro. A veces no sabía where it was going, but its style is certainly groundbreaking. Mano, I’ve never seen how I think be so perfectly written onto a page. Like, seriously, when I moved to the US it was hard NOT to communicate en Spanglish. This book is a huge translanguaging win. I look forward to Julián Delgado Lopera’s future works!
AAAAANNDDD this book made me think so much of a quote by Viet Thanh Nguyen: “Writers from a minority, write as if you are the majority. Do not explain. Do not cater. Do not translate. Do not apologize. Assume everyone knows what you are talking about, as the majority does. Write with all the privileges of the majority, but with the humility of a minority.”
^Por eso no voy a traducir nah. Muakisssss 😘
Unapologetically bilingüe, Fiebre Tropical is written enteramente en Spanglish. It is unique and kooky and out there, exploring issues of queerness, immigration, and fanatismo religioso. Nuestra heroína, Francisca, is a Colombian teen who is utterly miserable after moving to los Mayamis con su mamá y su abuela. Francisca’s mom seems to slowly be losing her cordura, planning a baptism for a muñeco and forcing Francisca to accept Jesucristo into her heart.
En realidad que se me hizo un poco difícil terminar este libro. A veces no sabía where it was going, but its style is certainly groundbreaking. Mano, I’ve never seen how I think be so perfectly written onto a page. Like, seriously, when I moved to the US it was hard NOT to communicate en Spanglish. This book is a huge translanguaging win. I look forward to Julián Delgado Lopera’s future works!
AAAAANNDDD this book made me think so much of a quote by Viet Thanh Nguyen: “Writers from a minority, write as if you are the majority. Do not explain. Do not cater. Do not translate. Do not apologize. Assume everyone knows what you are talking about, as the majority does. Write with all the privileges of the majority, but with the humility of a minority.”
^Por eso no voy a traducir nah. Muakisssss 😘
July 11, 2021
Fiebre Tropical offers one of the most original voices I've encountered in years. It's written in Spanglish and inflected with Colombian regional accents, and one cannot help but hear the narrator's voice in one's ear while reading. The Spanish/English distribution is about 20/80, so you don't have to know Spanish to read it, but even a slight knowledge of the language makes reading this book all the more enjoyable. While the narrator's voice comes across as casual and unpremeditated, the craft behind it is impressive—in Fiebre Tropical, every single word feels like exactly the right choice.
Fiebre Tropical is sort of a Miami-based Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit. Francisca, the fifteen-year-old narrator, has recently arrived in Miami with her mother and sister. The three are living with Francisca's grandmother. Francisca's mother was a high-level finance executive in Colombia; in Miami, she struggles to pay for basics while piecing together an assortment of low-paying part-time jobs.
The family's life quickly becomes structured around a largely Colombian immigrant fundamentalist church. The novel opens with preparations for a baptism of Francisca's brother—who died before Francisca was born—intended to free him from purgatory. Church services are long and rather raucous with praise, testimonies, and regular fainting among those feeling the spirit. Francisca, in her black jeans and Ramones t-shirt, is completely out of place here, but her interest in the daughter of the pastor/pastora couple who run the church leads her to do her best to embrace the community's values.
Over the course of the novel, Francisca describes herself making her way to acknowledging her lesbian identity, though she never actually uses the word "lesbian." She's telling this story to an unnamed "mi reina" (an affectionate term meaning "my queen"), so the implication is that she's well past the uncertainties of the years she's narrating, comfortable with her lesbian identity and in a solid relationship, remembering her younger self with affection and humor.
Juliana Delgado Lopera's novel will have you laughing, aching, and at times sputtering with surprise. It offers a great read for any lover of contemporary fiction. Five stars!
I received a free electronic review copy of this book from the Feminist Press via NetGalley. The opinions are my own.
Fiebre Tropical is sort of a Miami-based Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit. Francisca, the fifteen-year-old narrator, has recently arrived in Miami with her mother and sister. The three are living with Francisca's grandmother. Francisca's mother was a high-level finance executive in Colombia; in Miami, she struggles to pay for basics while piecing together an assortment of low-paying part-time jobs.
The family's life quickly becomes structured around a largely Colombian immigrant fundamentalist church. The novel opens with preparations for a baptism of Francisca's brother—who died before Francisca was born—intended to free him from purgatory. Church services are long and rather raucous with praise, testimonies, and regular fainting among those feeling the spirit. Francisca, in her black jeans and Ramones t-shirt, is completely out of place here, but her interest in the daughter of the pastor/pastora couple who run the church leads her to do her best to embrace the community's values.
Over the course of the novel, Francisca describes herself making her way to acknowledging her lesbian identity, though she never actually uses the word "lesbian." She's telling this story to an unnamed "mi reina" (an affectionate term meaning "my queen"), so the implication is that she's well past the uncertainties of the years she's narrating, comfortable with her lesbian identity and in a solid relationship, remembering her younger self with affection and humor.
Juliana Delgado Lopera's novel will have you laughing, aching, and at times sputtering with surprise. It offers a great read for any lover of contemporary fiction. Five stars!
I received a free electronic review copy of this book from the Feminist Press via NetGalley. The opinions are my own.
February 17, 2021
Francisca is a great narrator. The family saga thing is one I have read so many times, but the bilingual twist is great. It's a dominguera read, being from the frontera, I can totally identify with lo bilingue.
November 19, 2021
Chaotic and lacking structure. So much rambling about the same thing for so many pages that did absolutely nothing to advance the plot.
I enjoyed the Spanglish though. For me, that was the only thing that gave the narrator a unique voice, although it could have been used in a much better way.
I enjoyed the Spanglish though. For me, that was the only thing that gave the narrator a unique voice, although it could have been used in a much better way.
November 11, 2020
In the vein of Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, but with a delicious Colombian flavor all its own. The slangy Spanglish delighted me, as did the voice of our narrator, fifteen year old Francisca, who speaks directly to the reader (aka “mi reina”). Francisca is a disgruntled goth and unwilling member of an ecstatic pentecostal church of Colombian expatriates that meets in a Miami hotel convention room. The men in her family are screw-ups, long gone, and she lives with her grandmother (Tata), mother (Mami), and sister Lucia in a rundown Miami townhouse. We follow Francisca over the course of a few months as she tries to maintain her identity in a world of Dios Mios mania: ("The godless girl inside yelled Plath, eyeliner.”) We also learn of Tata’s and Mami’s legendary pasts and follow them in their colorful present. This is one entertaining matriarchy.
The joy of this novel is rooted in the telling, so here’s a snippet of Francisca’s voice:
The joy of this novel is rooted in the telling, so here’s a snippet of Francisca’s voice:
“Historically, Mami had been a tremenda Connoisseur of Silence, a Reina del Silencio, which meant she knew when to drop silence like a stink bomb and manipulate its emptiness, closed on its edges, to get a certain outcome. Silence, reina mia, is a powerful tool in this family.”There is one glaring hole in this book though – none of these kids go to school, or even home school! School played a major part of Francisca’s life in Bogata, but doesn’t seem to exist in Miami. Still, no hole of any size could diminish my love of this book - to hell with school.
August 14, 2023
delgado lopera fantastically captures the sticky-hot claustrophobia of miami in the aughts, of being a queer teen in a religious latinx family, of the disorientation of immigrating in your childhood, like it or not. the sweaty, gritty vibes are evocative and on point.
the spanglish is also wonderful, and unapologetic in its spanish-leaning. lately i've been reading a lot of books that include some spanish dialogue, and it's always enjoyable, but fiebre tropical is on another level. i love that delgado lopera wasn't forced to hold back; the book is truly bilingual.
it's also truly sapphic, packed with that particularly unstoppable gay pining that emerges when you're in love with your best friend. this is paired with the religiously repressed need to have a youth group boyfriend as a beard. someone to hold hands with, imagining you're actually holding hands with the best friend you're in love with. francisca is like a shaken bottle, full of suppressed emotions and sexual energy, ready to explode.
but the lack of structure makes this book a slog to finish. long chapters about the childhoods of francisca's mother and grandmother are inserted just when francisca's story is heating up, disturbing any momentum. it's nice to learn about the backstories of mami and la tata, who are both lowkey bonkers in their own ways, but the story just doesn't flow.
despite the drifting narrative, i do like how francisca speaks directly to the reader, addressing us as "mi reina." it has a personal rawness that i appreciate.
i'm not surprised that this book was published under michelle tea's amethyst editions at the feminist press. it has a dirty and chaotic sapphic flavor not unlike tea's valencia.
the spanglish is also wonderful, and unapologetic in its spanish-leaning. lately i've been reading a lot of books that include some spanish dialogue, and it's always enjoyable, but fiebre tropical is on another level. i love that delgado lopera wasn't forced to hold back; the book is truly bilingual.
it's also truly sapphic, packed with that particularly unstoppable gay pining that emerges when you're in love with your best friend. this is paired with the religiously repressed need to have a youth group boyfriend as a beard. someone to hold hands with, imagining you're actually holding hands with the best friend you're in love with. francisca is like a shaken bottle, full of suppressed emotions and sexual energy, ready to explode.
but the lack of structure makes this book a slog to finish. long chapters about the childhoods of francisca's mother and grandmother are inserted just when francisca's story is heating up, disturbing any momentum. it's nice to learn about the backstories of mami and la tata, who are both lowkey bonkers in their own ways, but the story just doesn't flow.
despite the drifting narrative, i do like how francisca speaks directly to the reader, addressing us as "mi reina." it has a personal rawness that i appreciate.
i'm not surprised that this book was published under michelle tea's amethyst editions at the feminist press. it has a dirty and chaotic sapphic flavor not unlike tea's valencia.
March 15, 2020
The first hundred pages are awesome! The way Delgado Lopera captures the South America immigrant family beginning life in Miami is perfect as she lays bare so much about its own and American culture, and all of this done in an English cum Spanish that I shouldn’t have worried about understanding. The part of the novel that focuses on the coming of age of Francesca, the central part of the story, is also captivating , but I just felt the whole thing lost its focus in the second half of the book. Tangents that held little bearing to the central story crept in, and things seemed to be drawn out a little too much. Having said all that, its originality makes it all worthwhile.
March 22, 2023
I've honestly never read a book like this; it was so refreshingly bold. I loved it for its ambition rather than its execution. I loved it because it was different, with a narrative voice with such confidence and hilarity despite the struggles and insecurity the narrator is experiencing.
The novel follows 15/16 year old Francisca whose family has just immigrated (illegally) to Miami from Bogota, Colombia, a move she isn't happy about. She misses her friends. She misses not understanding of the culture. She misses their socioeconomic status in Colombia, which was at least higher than the poverty they face in Miami. And most of all, maybe, she misses the mom who hadn't yet devoted her entire life to the charismatic evangelical church they now attend in Miami. She's also still learning English, which Delgado Lopera portrays beautifully by mixing English and Spanish (without footnotes) as a part of Francisca's narrative voice.
Francisca is suspicious of her family's new church and what it's done to her mother. She's an unsaved outsider who becomes the special project of the the pastors' adopted daughter (yes, both her parents are pastors in this church), Carmen, who's captivating and unrelenting about Francisca's salvation. Francisca is charmed to the point of following Carmen anywhere, even if that means devoting her life to Jesucristo. Their relationship crosses emotional if not physical boundaries (the text is unclear about the latter's extent), and Francisca's world is forever changed.
When something is this bold and brash there are bound to be missteps and this novel definitely has some. The narrative lacks focus, drifting off into tangents that don't seem to add anything to the novel. It also wasn't sure what it wanted to be. Is this a book about the women in Francisca's family? Is this a book about the dangers of cultish religions/religious practices? Is this a sexual coming of age story? I wasn't quite sure and the experience suffered for it.
This is not a sapphic romance page-turner, which I understand is the vast majority of what I read. In fact, it's not a romance at all, despite what's happening between Francisca and Carmen. It was hard to read, mostly because of the mix between Spanish and English. I have a decent understanding of Spanish, but even I struggled with some of the text, especially since there's a lot of Colombian slang. And the realism isn't always fun to watch. This is gritty. But this is exactly why I would recommend it--because this book is different. Francisca is an incredible narrator and her experience, her story is one that we should all be reading because, for most of us, we don't get to meet too many people like her.
The novel follows 15/16 year old Francisca whose family has just immigrated (illegally) to Miami from Bogota, Colombia, a move she isn't happy about. She misses her friends. She misses not understanding of the culture. She misses their socioeconomic status in Colombia, which was at least higher than the poverty they face in Miami. And most of all, maybe, she misses the mom who hadn't yet devoted her entire life to the charismatic evangelical church they now attend in Miami. She's also still learning English, which Delgado Lopera portrays beautifully by mixing English and Spanish (without footnotes) as a part of Francisca's narrative voice.
Francisca is suspicious of her family's new church and what it's done to her mother. She's an unsaved outsider who becomes the special project of the the pastors' adopted daughter (yes, both her parents are pastors in this church), Carmen, who's captivating and unrelenting about Francisca's salvation. Francisca is charmed to the point of following Carmen anywhere, even if that means devoting her life to Jesucristo. Their relationship crosses emotional if not physical boundaries (the text is unclear about the latter's extent), and Francisca's world is forever changed.
When something is this bold and brash there are bound to be missteps and this novel definitely has some. The narrative lacks focus, drifting off into tangents that don't seem to add anything to the novel. It also wasn't sure what it wanted to be. Is this a book about the women in Francisca's family? Is this a book about the dangers of cultish religions/religious practices? Is this a sexual coming of age story? I wasn't quite sure and the experience suffered for it.
This is not a sapphic romance page-turner, which I understand is the vast majority of what I read. In fact, it's not a romance at all, despite what's happening between Francisca and Carmen. It was hard to read, mostly because of the mix between Spanish and English. I have a decent understanding of Spanish, but even I struggled with some of the text, especially since there's a lot of Colombian slang. And the realism isn't always fun to watch. This is gritty. But this is exactly why I would recommend it--because this book is different. Francisca is an incredible narrator and her experience, her story is one that we should all be reading because, for most of us, we don't get to meet too many people like her.
January 16, 2021
Rep: Colombian cast, bi/pan mc
January 17, 2021
Juliana Delgado Lopera's "Spanglish" debut novel is bold and unapologetic. Reading the first chapter, where the reader is flung headfirst into narrator Francisca's chaotic, 100% one-of-a-kind storytelling was an electrifying experience. In casually bilingual prose, Francisca explains to her audience that her mother is planning the baptism of a baby she miscarried 17 years ago—and Francisca has been unwittingly invited along for the ride.
Fiebre Tropical is one of those books that I feel was meant for a very particular audience and which makes me wonder how The Whites are going to react. If you don't speak Spanish, don't know about the miracles of vickvaporú, have zero aunts named Socorro and/or Milagros, and never watched the "yo soy darks" video...what is going to be your takeaway from this? (Not denigrating, just genuinely curious how an "outsider" would experience this story.)
Much as I loved this book's opening chapters, however, Delgado clearly struggled to find a focus here. She flings Francisca's meandering, explosive thoughts down on the page willy-nilly, and the end result is a book that's difficult to follow and seemingly a bit pointless. I'm not asking for a plot here, I'm just asking that this uncensored characterization be filtered through some sort of intentional lens. I wanted some guiding principal that enabled me, upon reaching the end, to say "so that's what this book was all about!" instead of "what was the point of all that?"
So, unfortunately, as much as I adored the author's style and her unapologetic (and clever) use of Spanglish, I didn't like Fiebre Tropical very much in the end. I think that any novel needs strong characters and a sense of direction, but Delgado was only able to achieve one of those two here. I'm disappointed, but I think that Francisca's voice is so vital that I don't consider my time wasted.
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Fiebre Tropical is one of those books that I feel was meant for a very particular audience and which makes me wonder how The Whites are going to react. If you don't speak Spanish, don't know about the miracles of vickvaporú, have zero aunts named Socorro and/or Milagros, and never watched the "yo soy darks" video...what is going to be your takeaway from this? (Not denigrating, just genuinely curious how an "outsider" would experience this story.)
Much as I loved this book's opening chapters, however, Delgado clearly struggled to find a focus here. She flings Francisca's meandering, explosive thoughts down on the page willy-nilly, and the end result is a book that's difficult to follow and seemingly a bit pointless. I'm not asking for a plot here, I'm just asking that this uncensored characterization be filtered through some sort of intentional lens. I wanted some guiding principal that enabled me, upon reaching the end, to say "so that's what this book was all about!" instead of "what was the point of all that?"
So, unfortunately, as much as I adored the author's style and her unapologetic (and clever) use of Spanglish, I didn't like Fiebre Tropical very much in the end. I think that any novel needs strong characters and a sense of direction, but Delgado was only able to achieve one of those two here. I'm disappointed, but I think that Francisca's voice is so vital that I don't consider my time wasted.
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March 20, 2020
Interesting! First of all, the book is written entirely in Spanglish which was wonderful! And the prose is beautiful. And we need more queer immigrant stories written by non-binary dykes! Hottest author photo I’ve ever seen. But, the book kinda lost its way by the second half, I felt like the plot dragged, and some characters and flashbacks were lost on me
Read
July 13, 2019In the tradition of Phillip Roth, 50 years ago, Juliana wakes up American literature with an immigrant lesbian Colombian voice. Energetic, funny, campy, sweet, an exciting new voice.
dnf
February 15, 2021I have wanted to read this one since I first read about it. After 100 pages, I'm calling it quits. I just couldn't get into the narrative.
July 4, 2024
Bogotá: Everything to do with becoming a no one in a city built for someones.
Read
June 25, 2020Because I skimmed/read very quickly the last quarter of this book, I don’t think it’s fair for me to give it a rating. I’d started this book ages ago and had been struggling to finish, and I just needed to put it down and move on.
The first 3/4ths is great. It reminded me of the movie “Virus Tropical” (GREAT film!) - a coming of age story, basically. The Spanglish is great. The voice is great. Funny, forceful. The setting is memorable - the dreariness of Miami, the forced fun of the evangelical church.
And then when I got to the chapter about the mother and grandmother (set in their perspectives when they were teenagers), I just stalled. On one hand, this was a clever move of the novel - to put us in the shoes of the mother and grandmother. Logically, though, I struggled. How does the character know this? I kept asking myself. This is common family lore that she’s relating? Is this being filtered through a consciousness other than the narrator’s? It felt a bit tacked on, and the momentum of the book got lost for me. If I were the editor of this book I would have challenged the need for these sections. Maybe it was unfair that I read this so soon after “Virus Tropical”, since what I liked about that story (and the first 3/4ths of this) was how committed it was to that one character’s trajectory.
However, I’m glad I read this. I’m sure I’ll go back and revisit the last quarter at one point in the future, but I was just like “I have to just get to the end now and finish or else I never will; I’ll forget who everyone is.” This would be a great book for a book club. It’s always super interesting to to see the fiction being put out by bilingual, bicultural Colombians. Like most first novels, this reads like it came from a very raw and authentic place. I’d be really interested in seeing what the author does next.
The first 3/4ths is great. It reminded me of the movie “Virus Tropical” (GREAT film!) - a coming of age story, basically. The Spanglish is great. The voice is great. Funny, forceful. The setting is memorable - the dreariness of Miami, the forced fun of the evangelical church.
And then when I got to the chapter about the mother and grandmother (set in their perspectives when they were teenagers), I just stalled. On one hand, this was a clever move of the novel - to put us in the shoes of the mother and grandmother. Logically, though, I struggled. How does the character know this? I kept asking myself. This is common family lore that she’s relating? Is this being filtered through a consciousness other than the narrator’s? It felt a bit tacked on, and the momentum of the book got lost for me. If I were the editor of this book I would have challenged the need for these sections. Maybe it was unfair that I read this so soon after “Virus Tropical”, since what I liked about that story (and the first 3/4ths of this) was how committed it was to that one character’s trajectory.
However, I’m glad I read this. I’m sure I’ll go back and revisit the last quarter at one point in the future, but I was just like “I have to just get to the end now and finish or else I never will; I’ll forget who everyone is.” This would be a great book for a book club. It’s always super interesting to to see the fiction being put out by bilingual, bicultural Colombians. Like most first novels, this reads like it came from a very raw and authentic place. I’d be really interested in seeing what the author does next.
February 20, 2021
Juliana Delgado Lopera’s debut Fiebre Tropical has a strong voice but a narrative so disjointed, it distracts from the otherwise original and unapologetic tone of the novel. In this coming-of-age, the teenage narrator, Francisca, has just moved from Colombia to Miami. There, she struggles with alienation while her mother pushes the family into evangelism.
I am grateful to the Aspen Words Literary Prize (one of my favorite literature prizes) for introducing me to a novel I would have otherwise not encountered. Fiebre Tropical is written in Spanglish, which I thought was pretty neat. Having made the mistake of never taking Spanish in high school, I was initially spending A LOT of time looking up phrases (and swear words and slang), but eventually, I got into a rhythm and the style was fun. Francisca also has a very engaging eye-rolling voice that feels like an authentic teenager, which was my favorite part of Fiebre Tropical. Those were the two main things holding up Fiebre Tropical, however, as the story meandered and I felt this short book's length. There’s not much structure, scenes go on for too long to the point where the jokes get old, and the pacing drags in the second half (however, the ending was great). It’s a shame because there was a lot I wanted to like in Fiebre Tropical, but a great voice will only take a book so far.
I am grateful to the Aspen Words Literary Prize (one of my favorite literature prizes) for introducing me to a novel I would have otherwise not encountered. Fiebre Tropical is written in Spanglish, which I thought was pretty neat. Having made the mistake of never taking Spanish in high school, I was initially spending A LOT of time looking up phrases (and swear words and slang), but eventually, I got into a rhythm and the style was fun. Francisca also has a very engaging eye-rolling voice that feels like an authentic teenager, which was my favorite part of Fiebre Tropical. Those were the two main things holding up Fiebre Tropical, however, as the story meandered and I felt this short book's length. There’s not much structure, scenes go on for too long to the point where the jokes get old, and the pacing drags in the second half (however, the ending was great). It’s a shame because there was a lot I wanted to like in Fiebre Tropical, but a great voice will only take a book so far.
August 29, 2021
Amé la forma como está escrito este libro, el spanglish me lo gocé al punto que todas las conversaciones las escuchaba en mi cabeza sintiendo como si yo interviniera en ellas. También me gustó las vibes que me dio a Jane the Virgin por aquello de tres generaciones de mujeres latinas luchandola en Miami (hasta la abuela se llamaba Alba y era fan de las novelas). Sin embargo a lo último sentí que la historia no tenía la misma fuerza que al principio por lo cual no fue un 5 star para mí. Pero igual me lo disfruté y aplauso de pie para Juli por hacerme carcajear varias veces y recordar varias cosas de mi infancia y juventud.
December 9, 2021
No plot, just vibes. But I dug it.
March 6, 2021
Beyond the first-person voice that everyone raves about, I thought this book did such a nuanced job at capturing Colombian class anxieties—rolos versus costeños, and how those artificial boundaries break down to a certain degree (and in some other ways, fail to break down) in the Colombian diaspora. The observations in this book are razor sharp.
There is such propulsion in the first 6-7 chapters. There are so many hilarious moments as you are thrown into this strange evangelical world "where only the chosen rave with Jesus"—it's all so hilarious and jarring and well done. Then the book sinks a bit into the narrator's ennui—the narration does an excellent job of capturing the narrator's "stuckness" in her Miami apartment complex. I found that the plot felt a bit stuck as well for a bit.
I liked the flashbacks! I thought the two chapters filling in the mother and grandmother's backstory actually fit in well with one of the novel's themes—female sadness passing down from generation to generation. I love reading about Colombia in the 50's and 70's. If the author wrote a historical fiction novel about Colombia set in one of these eras, I would be one of the first in line to pick it up.
The book creates such a strong sense of place. 5 stars to that alone.
I struggled a bit with how the book moves from past to present, from flashbacks back to the "modern times" scene. I felt like the transitions weren't always smoothly done, there was a bit more reliance on the "And now back to the..." phrase than I would've liked.
All in all I think this was an excellent book club pick, if I do say so myself! I would definitely recommend this and would check out more of this author's work.
There is such propulsion in the first 6-7 chapters. There are so many hilarious moments as you are thrown into this strange evangelical world "where only the chosen rave with Jesus"—it's all so hilarious and jarring and well done. Then the book sinks a bit into the narrator's ennui—the narration does an excellent job of capturing the narrator's "stuckness" in her Miami apartment complex. I found that the plot felt a bit stuck as well for a bit.
I liked the flashbacks! I thought the two chapters filling in the mother and grandmother's backstory actually fit in well with one of the novel's themes—female sadness passing down from generation to generation. I love reading about Colombia in the 50's and 70's. If the author wrote a historical fiction novel about Colombia set in one of these eras, I would be one of the first in line to pick it up.
The book creates such a strong sense of place. 5 stars to that alone.
I struggled a bit with how the book moves from past to present, from flashbacks back to the "modern times" scene. I felt like the transitions weren't always smoothly done, there was a bit more reliance on the "And now back to the..." phrase than I would've liked.
All in all I think this was an excellent book club pick, if I do say so myself! I would definitely recommend this and would check out more of this author's work.
November 11, 2020
This book is incredible. The voice of our main character is probably my favorite teenage voice I've ever read. I loved the blend of English and Spanish- the entire thing reminded me of the experience of reading The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao- one of my favorite books for the style/voice.
A quick passage to highlight the voice: "Because I'm such a considerate narrator and we're about to enter the peso pesado butthole of Christianity- the forgotten corner where culty blind devotion to Jesucristo meets merengue, bachata, and arroz con pollo- Imma walk you through that first day".
In Fiebre Tropical, we follow Francisca who is forced to immigrate from Colombia to Miami with her mother and grandmother and join the evangelical church in the town. This is a coming of age and coming out story I will never forget. It is also a story of the falsehoods of the American Dream and I will be recommending this widely!
A quick passage to highlight the voice: "Because I'm such a considerate narrator and we're about to enter the peso pesado butthole of Christianity- the forgotten corner where culty blind devotion to Jesucristo meets merengue, bachata, and arroz con pollo- Imma walk you through that first day".
In Fiebre Tropical, we follow Francisca who is forced to immigrate from Colombia to Miami with her mother and grandmother and join the evangelical church in the town. This is a coming of age and coming out story I will never forget. It is also a story of the falsehoods of the American Dream and I will be recommending this widely!
September 18, 2020
I was disappointed. Wanted to like it and had read positive reviews...but it's not for me. This book was both too much and not enough. Too many side bars that ramble on for 20 or more pages each--side bars that do nothing to further plot or character development.
When I first started reading I got Junot diaz vibes from her narrative style...but honestly not as enjoyable. The characters were not likeable, too much unanswered, rambling and unfocused.
I had thought this would be like if Saved!, But I'm a Cheerleader, and What Night Brings (Carla Trujillo) had a baby and put into the context of a Columbian teen migrant in Miami. But it is not as entertaining as any one of these titles.
I'm glad to see another book written with Spanglish, so that's cool.
Like I said, it's not for me. Not a fan. But that's okay.
When I first started reading I got Junot diaz vibes from her narrative style...but honestly not as enjoyable. The characters were not likeable, too much unanswered, rambling and unfocused.
I had thought this would be like if Saved!, But I'm a Cheerleader, and What Night Brings (Carla Trujillo) had a baby and put into the context of a Columbian teen migrant in Miami. But it is not as entertaining as any one of these titles.
I'm glad to see another book written with Spanglish, so that's cool.
Like I said, it's not for me. Not a fan. But that's okay.
October 21, 2021
I thoroughly enjoyed hearing Francisca's bilingual voice (infused with colombianismos) as they describe the transition from Bogotá to las Miayamis. I look forward to reading more from this author.
September 26, 2023
“Day after day dreading Carmen's smell but anxiously waiting for it”
^^^ sososososo gay. not in the explicit way, but in the slow burn pining que al final no termina en nada pq such a religious setting no fomenta que terminen juntas.
insanely unorthodox writing style (which i found so refreshing because it was still super easy to read). amé tanto el spanglish y lo fluido que fue, so much so que aveces ni me daba cuenta que estaba cambiando de idiomas because i just kept understanding everything the author wrote.
terminó on a heavy note, which i appreciate pq i’ll think about a book more si el final me deja 5 minutos staring at the last page after i’ve finished the book like “damn…”
^^^ sososososo gay. not in the explicit way, but in the slow burn pining que al final no termina en nada pq such a religious setting no fomenta que terminen juntas.
insanely unorthodox writing style (which i found so refreshing because it was still super easy to read). amé tanto el spanglish y lo fluido que fue, so much so que aveces ni me daba cuenta que estaba cambiando de idiomas because i just kept understanding everything the author wrote.
terminó on a heavy note, which i appreciate pq i’ll think about a book more si el final me deja 5 minutos staring at the last page after i’ve finished the book like “damn…”
June 29, 2023
Loved the Spanglish so much. It’s what hooked me from the start but the “YA main character in an adult fiction book” (to quote a friend!) felt a little confusing for me. Roxane Gay wrote in her review that this book has too much narrative drift and I completely agree. It took away from my overall experience with the book. I’d still read what Delgado Lopera writes next though.
June 15, 2023
Loved!!!
July 26, 2023
Probably one of the best books I've read this year. This feels like Miami, this feels like the ridiculousness and yet utter seriousness of Latine evangelical Christians. It's a beautiful and crushing story of queer discovery and longing.
September 6, 2020
A lesbian almost-awakening told without the detritus of a coming-of-age story. With a really wonderful narrator who unfortunately steps back for a couple of historical chapters that drag a bit.
September 17, 2025
This was a book club pick that I likely never would’ve read on my own, but am very glad somebody selected it on my behalf!!! Julián Delgado Lopera’s debut novel shows a slice of adolescence that I’d sort of forgotten about, and was really excited to discuss with others.
Per usual, I was really impressed by my book club’s thoughts on this, starting with how Delgado Lopera imbues this story with the desperation and high stakes of being a teenager. The group created several conspiracy theories for why was the mom all over Wilson (she still sees herself as a teenager and thus could be attracted to him, but also maybe because she was seeing her lost son in him?) Our fearless facilitator discussed how the novel’s weather themes mirrored the overwhelming, unavoidable nature of everything from mothers to compulsory heterosexuality. Finally, the most stunning reflection outlined the catch-22 of submitting to this “tropical storm” of cisheteropatriarchy. While characters like Fransisca are punished for their efforts to resist this storm, the less-defiant characters are by no means better off. Many of these characters employ coping mechanisms to numb their dissatisfaction with life, or to regain the sense of autonomy they’ve surrendered. Just wow!!!
⛪🕺🏾When church and the club become one
I love a story that speaks about interdenominational judgments!!! In Fiebre Tropical, Fransisca’s family is migrating from Colombia to Miami, and simultaneously from Catholicism to a “less boring” denomination. It’s interesting to think about how these religious and geographic migrations informed each other, because it so clearly exposes the social function of church. Over my life, I’ve seen how people make the church whatever they need at the moment: it becomes a social club and community launchpad for transplants, it becomes the sober club for people in recovery, AND for so many of us, it is an exploratory space while we are still in the closet. I loved Delgado Lopera’s less uptight approach to this setting, because how serious can we be when we’re meeting in somebody’s basement or school gym or hotel conference room?!? I especially love this passage below, because it’s exactly how I used to feel watching the Gen X saints almost become aint’s when a certain Byron Cage song came on:
So yes, basically I am really in love with the portrayal of religious self-asborption in this book. Fiebre Tropical might be the first thing I’ve read that accurately captures the energy of the nondenominational church plant culture of the 2000-10s. As much as people act like the “churches with strobe lights” phenomenon came out of nowhere, I REMEMBER my church’s teen choir recreating every part of the Tye Tribbett Victory! Live album when I was a little girl. Church has BEEN the club, for as long as I’ve been alive, and probably before then. It’s about time a book showed us that. 😊
Role of relationships
Delgado Lopera also shows how these characters manipulated their “personal” relationships to God to meet their social needs. I put personal in quotations because in a society that is so compulsory, even your individual spirituality becomes a group project for everyone to influence and surveil. The language used for salvation is incredibly sexual, yes, but also nonconsensual—Jesus is described as “colonizing” and “gentrifying” people’s hearts, this clear tie-in to the tropical storm that people can’t resist. This is why I loved Fransisca’s approach, which is like if this is all predetermined anyhow, I might as well pretend to be saved so I can make this “friend” who is a lifeline for me, and get my mom off my back!!
Speaking of the mom, Delgado Lopera’s flashback sections are superb! I loved Fransisca’s constant interruptions as the peanut gallery narrator, specifically in her envisioning of her mother’s teenage years. These passages showed how Fransisca’s love is intimately tied up in her frustration with Myriam, and allowed us to see the echoes in the “friendships” with Carmen and Lenore across generations. Tata’s flashback was also really fun, in a way I didn’t even expect. The layering of these relationships to sexuality and gender is so well done, never heavy-handed but still resonant.
There are also fun minor characters in this book, especially Andrea (who I did love despite the age gap 😭) and our neighborly friend of convenience, Pablito! One funny crossover came when Delgado Lopera briefly mentioned Pablito’s parents moving to Miami to escape Videla’s repression of Marxists in Argentina. On this technicality, you could say that Fiebre Tropical is the third book featuring the desaparecidos that I’ve read this month! The first was Haley Cohen Gilliland’s book on the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo, A Flower Traveled in My Blood: The Incredible True Story of the Grandmothers Who Fought to Find a Stolen Generation of Children. The second (I started it before Fiebre Tropical, but finished it last) is Alexa Hagerty’s Still Life with Bones: Genocide, Forensics, and What Remains; which was recommended to me in the review comments of the first! That review is next on my to-do list after I finish with this review—will update links afterward.
Final Thoughts
I know many people seem to have DNF’ed this one, but if you can get beyond the baptism scene, Fiebre Tropical becomes really special. One warning, if you are not bilingual, there will be a learning curve to fully appreciate this book, as you have to learn to follow its cadence through a mixture of context clues and translator app queries. By the end, it was possible to use the tonal shifts, cognates, and earlier vocab lessons so I could read without stopping every 5 sentences to look something up. So, have faith and patience, but then give it a go!! 😊
Per usual, I was really impressed by my book club’s thoughts on this, starting with how Delgado Lopera imbues this story with the desperation and high stakes of being a teenager. The group created several conspiracy theories for why was the mom all over Wilson (she still sees herself as a teenager and thus could be attracted to him, but also maybe because she was seeing her lost son in him?) Our fearless facilitator discussed how the novel’s weather themes mirrored the overwhelming, unavoidable nature of everything from mothers to compulsory heterosexuality. Finally, the most stunning reflection outlined the catch-22 of submitting to this “tropical storm” of cisheteropatriarchy. While characters like Fransisca are punished for their efforts to resist this storm, the less-defiant characters are by no means better off. Many of these characters employ coping mechanisms to numb their dissatisfaction with life, or to regain the sense of autonomy they’ve surrendered. Just wow!!!
⛪🕺🏾When church and the club become one
I love a story that speaks about interdenominational judgments!!! In Fiebre Tropical, Fransisca’s family is migrating from Colombia to Miami, and simultaneously from Catholicism to a “less boring” denomination. It’s interesting to think about how these religious and geographic migrations informed each other, because it so clearly exposes the social function of church. Over my life, I’ve seen how people make the church whatever they need at the moment: it becomes a social club and community launchpad for transplants, it becomes the sober club for people in recovery, AND for so many of us, it is an exploratory space while we are still in the closet. I loved Delgado Lopera’s less uptight approach to this setting, because how serious can we be when we’re meeting in somebody’s basement or school gym or hotel conference room?!? I especially love this passage below, because it’s exactly how I used to feel watching the Gen X saints almost become aint’s when a certain Byron Cage song came on:
You heard him point to someone to start the iPod’s holy music, and you heard the Christian salsa beats reverberate around the pool and the señoras slightly moving their shoulders and the hermanos slightly moving their hips—the body memory of a life once lived in sin. A life that once used that salsita for sexy entertainment purposes, but now the salsita, the merengue, the siseo corporal were followed by swaying hands, by aleluyas, by rhythmical prayers sent to the humid sky. It’s not like we didn’t pray back in Bogotá. (58)
So yes, basically I am really in love with the portrayal of religious self-asborption in this book. Fiebre Tropical might be the first thing I’ve read that accurately captures the energy of the nondenominational church plant culture of the 2000-10s. As much as people act like the “churches with strobe lights” phenomenon came out of nowhere, I REMEMBER my church’s teen choir recreating every part of the Tye Tribbett Victory! Live album when I was a little girl. Church has BEEN the club, for as long as I’ve been alive, and probably before then. It’s about time a book showed us that. 😊
Role of relationships
Delgado Lopera also shows how these characters manipulated their “personal” relationships to God to meet their social needs. I put personal in quotations because in a society that is so compulsory, even your individual spirituality becomes a group project for everyone to influence and surveil. The language used for salvation is incredibly sexual, yes, but also nonconsensual—Jesus is described as “colonizing” and “gentrifying” people’s hearts, this clear tie-in to the tropical storm that people can’t resist. This is why I loved Fransisca’s approach, which is like if this is all predetermined anyhow, I might as well pretend to be saved so I can make this “friend” who is a lifeline for me, and get my mom off my back!!
Speaking of the mom, Delgado Lopera’s flashback sections are superb! I loved Fransisca’s constant interruptions as the peanut gallery narrator, specifically in her envisioning of her mother’s teenage years. These passages showed how Fransisca’s love is intimately tied up in her frustration with Myriam, and allowed us to see the echoes in the “friendships” with Carmen and Lenore across generations. Tata’s flashback was also really fun, in a way I didn’t even expect. The layering of these relationships to sexuality and gender is so well done, never heavy-handed but still resonant.
There are also fun minor characters in this book, especially Andrea (who I did love despite the age gap 😭) and our neighborly friend of convenience, Pablito! One funny crossover came when Delgado Lopera briefly mentioned Pablito’s parents moving to Miami to escape Videla’s repression of Marxists in Argentina. On this technicality, you could say that Fiebre Tropical is the third book featuring the desaparecidos that I’ve read this month! The first was Haley Cohen Gilliland’s book on the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo, A Flower Traveled in My Blood: The Incredible True Story of the Grandmothers Who Fought to Find a Stolen Generation of Children. The second (I started it before Fiebre Tropical, but finished it last) is Alexa Hagerty’s Still Life with Bones: Genocide, Forensics, and What Remains; which was recommended to me in the review comments of the first! That review is next on my to-do list after I finish with this review—will update links afterward.
Final Thoughts
I know many people seem to have DNF’ed this one, but if you can get beyond the baptism scene, Fiebre Tropical becomes really special. One warning, if you are not bilingual, there will be a learning curve to fully appreciate this book, as you have to learn to follow its cadence through a mixture of context clues and translator app queries. By the end, it was possible to use the tonal shifts, cognates, and earlier vocab lessons so I could read without stopping every 5 sentences to look something up. So, have faith and patience, but then give it a go!! 😊
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