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Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of death, physical abuse, emotional abuse, rape, and gender discrimination.
Cristina Rivera Garza, accompanied by her friend Sorias, begins her quest to reopen her sister Liliana’s murder case in Mexico City in 2019. It has been over 29 years since Liliana’s ex-boyfriend, Ángel Gonzalez Ramos, killed her. Rivera Garza has written to Mexico’s attorney general to request a copy of the case file, which authorities have difficulty locating as she and Sorias walk from office to office through the city’s bustling neighborhoods and streets. Femicide is common in Mexico, with 10 happening every day. Just months earlier, after police officers raped a teenager, Mexican feminists rallied for justice in front of the same attorney general’s office that Rivera Garza is now approaching. Here, Rivera Garza discovers that the file has been moved to one of three possible locations. She and Sorias visit another office in the building, where they are instructed to try elsewhere. The two pass a poster memorializing a student whose boyfriend murdered her in 2017; unlike Liliana, this student, Lesvy Berlin Rivera Osorio, got justice thanks to her mother’s efforts. Rivera Garza imagines Lesvy and Liliana as friends in the afterlife.
Rivera Garza is instructed to visit the Office of the Deputy Attorney General for Decentralized Investigations in the neighborhood of Azcapotzalco. She and Sorias stop for lunch, and she muses about whether it is possible to enjoy life while suffering as the food arrives at their table. They discover that the file is not at the office when they arrive at their destination. They therefore must set out for yet another office in Azcapotzalco—the area of the city in which Liliana attended university and died, as well as the place where many other women victims of male violence have perished. At the next office, which handles cold cases, Rivera Garza finds out that there is a slim chance the file has survived: “Do not believe for a minute that records live forever” (26). Rivera Garza worries that her sister’s memory will vanish without the file’s preservation. She realizes, at this moment, that she must memorialize her sister in writing.
Femicide became a recognized crime in Mexico in 2012; prior to this, such acts were deemed crimes of passion. Even with the new law, many blame women who are murdered for allegedly making bad choices.
Rivera Garza decides to hire an attorney to assist in gaining access to her sister’s file; she wants justice. Later, she visits Liliana’s grave with her parents, who tend lovingly to the site. Liliana has been dead longer than she lived at this point. Rivera Garza describes herself as stuck in the past. She wonders if her father blames himself for being unable to pay the bribe that the attorney general’s office wanted to continue the investigation into Liliana’s death. She also reflects on how her family retreated into themselves after Liliana’s death to avoid negative attention and pity: “How do you avoid the attacks, the scathing, the sideways glances of those predisposed to blaming? How do you explain, even to the well-intentioned, what would have been obvious, in plain sight, had we lived in a more just world? […] We were so utterly lonesome, Liliana” (35). Women continue to be murdered in Mexico as the state fails to provide justice. However, Rivera Garza is determined to make sure that her sister receives the justice she is owed now.
Liliana was a prolific writer. She wrote to preserve her thoughts and build close relationships. It also gave her agency. She preserved her writing and saved mementos, like bus tickets. She left behind a detailed archive of her life that her family kept in boxes after her death, and Rivera Garza has feared opening these due to the painful memories they might unleash. Now, Rivera Garza applies the Danger Assessment tool (a structured evaluation method used to assess an individual’s risk of committing or becoming a victim of violent or homicidal behavior) to Liliana’s archive, looking for evidence of the rising threat to her life.
Liliana developed a personal and unique style of penmanship and incorporated doodles and stickers into her work. She made careful and deliberate choices about the type of paper and ink she used. She also made copies of the letters she sent and saved those she did not. She wrote daily until her death.
Rivera Garza reflects on her childhood with Liliana, describing her as an “accomplice” as well as a sister. Their parents instilled independence in their daughters, and their family was close-knit, “a volatile sovereign republic of four inhabitants, requiring so little from the outside world” (57). Liliana was younger, and she spent most of her childhood under the blue skies of Toluca. There, she wrote many letters since phone calls offered less privacy and landlines were not common. She corresponded with friends her age as well as family members, including aunts, neighbors, and friends she made via swim meets. She replied to all the letters she received. Teenage Liliana and her female friends most often wrote about love and boys: “The letters were a way of moving forward together, protecting each other as they left behind the solid ground of obedience and docility and childhood” (61-62). The friends often mentioned their deep devotion to and love for one another, noting that they hoped never to be separated.
Ángel Gonzalez Ramos’s name appears in Liliana’s writing for the first time in June 1984, just before she started high school. She met him at a gym she had joined to gain strength for swimming. They were dating by the conclusion of her first semester of high school, which her archive confirms. She wrote three short, affectionate notes to Ángel in June 1985. Yet her musings in a notebook from a few months later show that her relationship with Ángel “had taken an abrupt turn” (69). She now found him irritating. By August, something else had occurred because Liliana wrote that she had been “too hard on Ángel” (71), though she also wrote that she did not like how he loved her. Liliana did not describe the mysterious incident that prompted these reflections.
Rivera Garza recalls that the “biggest discussion” she shared with her sister concerned love. They were in a car at a market in Toluca; Rivera Garza and her mother had just had an argument, and she remarked angrily that she hated their mother. Liliana rebuked her sister, telling her that she did not know how to love. Rivera Garza felt contempt for love, which she saw as restrictive. Yet she always understood Liliana’s love for her; it was others who garnered her distrust. On the last page of one of her notebooks, Liliana wrote of her longing for peace and intimacy and the inferiority of connections that left her wanting.
Rivera Garza learned about her sister’s relationship with Ángel in 1987, when Rivera Garza was completing a master’s degree at the university in Toluca but living in Mexico City, traveling back and forth frequently to teach a course but avoiding her family’s house. The sisters did not share intimate details about their romantic relationships, but they spoke frequently about love and freedom. Rivera Garza assumed that Ángel was a temporary fixture. He never entered the privacy of their family’s home, but his arrival in his car or on his bike was always noted: “We laughed at him, high-heartedly. We told her: your driver has just arrived, when his car approached our home” (90).
Liliana’s archive shows that she and Ángel began dating in 1987 and split up, for the first time, in July of the same year. Liliana had several suitors, and Rivera Garza wonders how Ángel managed to “ease himself back into her life” (92). A card from Ángel for Valentine’s Day in 1987 is telling; the front asks the recipient if she knows who loves her, while the inside simply reads, in large letters, “Yo” (“I” in Spanish): “I above all […] Ángel’s ‘I’ rushed out from the card to hit Liliana’s eyes. His ‘I,’ not his love, was both the medium and the message” (93). He love-bombed her with candy and flowers, which Liliana described as Ángel ‘s “vehemence.”
Rivera Garza wonders if her 16-year-old sister saw the control he sought to exercise over her. Liliana’s writing from May 1987 indicates that she felt uneasy; she describes herself as “hysterical,” indicative of Ángel’s gaslighting. Ángel wrote an apologetic letter later that month. It reveals that he was unfaithful with a young woman named Araceli, whom he calls “that” but does not name. Yet their relationship did not recover, as Liliana’s letter to Ángel from July 26, 1987, indicates: She contrasts the vehemence of his attention against his betrayal, which she finds unexpected. Two days later, Liliana wrote about how she was “in crisis” despite having recently celebrated the milestone of high school graduation.
Rivera Garza was living, working, and writing in Mexico City during this time. Liliana arrived at her apartment in September 1987 to take the entrance exam for the Metropolitan Autonomous University (UAM). Two weeks later, she was admitted to the university’s architecture program at the Azcapotzalco campus, and she and her sister began searching for lodging. Ángel jotted a note to Liliana in October, apologizing and expressing frustration at not being able to see her since she moved. He had failed the university’s entrance exam and indicated that he was going to travel to the US before returning to Mexico.
Liliana’s archive contains copies of letters that her father wrote to her while completing his doctorate in Sweden. In one, dated to December 1987, he sends birthday wishes to his daughter and describes her birth as a “beautiful moment.” In another, he gives Liliana advice about her new life as a university student in Mexico City: “You have so much to do in the future” (104). He also expresses fatherly concern for her dramatic life change. He speaks again about her future and the support she will receive from him.
Rivera Garza completed the manuscript for her first book, which her sister influenced. Liliana was dead when Rivera Garza received the San Luis Potosí Award a couple of years later but lives within the manuscript’s pages.
Another letter from Liliana’s father, dated to April 1988, reveals his concern for his daughter in a large city where she encountered new people about whom her family knew nothing: “What worries me is that whole business of moving to a new house, meeting new people, people we don’t know anything about. Take good care of yourself in that city of Mexico” (109).
The opening chapters introduce the work’s simultaneously personal and political focus, particularly as it relates to Gendered Violence and Systemic Injustice as Intertwined. River Garza immediately establishes the Mexican authorities’ systemic failures via her difficulties finding her sister’s file: Her frustrating journey through the streets of Mexico City becomes a microcosm of and metaphor for the search for justice, which eludes not only Rivera Garza but also many murdered women and their families. Statistics underscore that Liliana’s case is not extraordinary. Rather, she is one of many women killed by intimate partners in Mexico over many years. Social reactions that perpetuate victim blaming exacerbate the lack of governmental action, underscoring that the problem is cultural as well as legal.
Yet, even in laying out this context, Rivera Garza does not lose sight of the problem’s personal dimensions. She passes a flyer memorializing another murdered college student, Lesvy Berlin Rivera Osorio, who died in 2017. The example underscores the widespread nature of violence against women and governmental apathy—Lesvy, unlike Liliana, received justice, but it took much work on her mother’s part, highlighting continuing systemic failures—but also individualizes these problems by providing them with a face. Indeed, Rivera-Garza lingers on the personhood of Lesvy and Liliana, describing them as similar young women who enjoyed life, were sexually active, and spent time with their friends; she even imagines them bonding with one another. This emphasis resists the dehumanization inherent in abuse and misogyny—including the institutional misogyny that allows murderers of women to avoid justice.
Rivera Garza’s memoir is also personal because it is an account of her grief, which the opening chapters also establish. Her physical movements between offices in the city dredge up reminders of her sister and her tragic death, introducing the theme of Managing Lifelong Grief by Confronting Trauma; though it has been decades since Liliana’s death, the loss remains fresh. While the memoir suggests that this is in part simply the nature of bereavement, it also shows how injustice adds to her trauma and compounds her grief. She asks, when she and Sorias stop for lunch, “Can you enjoy life while you are in pain?” (18). Survivor’s guilt also plays a regular role in her life. All told, the fact that it has taken her 29 years to insist on justice in a phone call to the Mexican attorney general underscores just how profound an impact loss has had on Rivera Garza’s life. Even coping strategies like tending to Liliana’s grave highlight the intractability of grief. It is a regular, rhythmic ritual where the family of four reunites and merges the past and present. In this sense, it is healing, yet the fact that it suspends Liliana’s family in time also highlights that they will never get over her death.
As Rivera Garza comes to the realization that her sister’s file may be lost forever, she turns toward Bearing Witness as Activism. Rivera Garza applies her historical methodological skills to studying this archive to reconstruct her sister’s teenage and college years, resolving to preserve Liliana’s memory if the justice system will not: “[I]t dawns on me that I have to produce the documents, the reports, the testimonies, the interviews, the evidence that the state could not, replacing the institutional archive with our archive, our own repository of touch and breath, voice, proximity, affect” (31). Authoring her memoir is a way of reconnecting with her sister, who left behind copious writing and artifacts from her life, but it is also a way of preserving her sister’s humanity—itself an act of resistance in a patriarchal society. Her goal is in part to show readers that Liliana was not a passive victim but a spirited, intelligent, and compassionate young woman whose family loved her deeply and who was failed by the justice system and by a society that blames women for causing the violence they experience.
At the same time, Rivera Garza does draw attention to the systemic forces that made it hard for either Liliana or her family to recognize the danger she was in. Indeed, Liliana could not even name the abuse she experienced; in her early writing, she refers to her killer’s “vehemence.” Meanwhile, her father’s letters to her show her parents’ concern for her safety when she went to study in Mexico City, but they also indicate her parents’ belief that any danger lay with the unknown. The implication is that a society that does not recognize violence against women makes it even more difficult for women to protect themselves, not least because they cannot conceptualize the problem.
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