A Magical Reformation: Veronica Chapa’s Feminist Retelling of La Malinche in Malinalli: A Novel

Cover Malinalli by Veronica Chapa

She has worn many identities. In each retelling, La Malinche emerges as traitor, survivor, protector. She’s been both revered and reviled for her power to translate, to guide. Despite these shifting portrayals, her story continues to evolve. In Veronica Chapa’s debut, Malinalli: A Novel, the legendary figure returns—this time not only as a gifted linguist but as a priestess-warrior with the divine powers of the Aztec goddess Malinalxochitl.

Historical records of the real La Malinche are sparse. Born in 1500 A.D. to a noble family within the Aztec empire, she received a high-level education. As a young girl, she was enslaved and eventually given to Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés. Chapa’s novel reimagines this history through a fantastical lens, centering themes of language, loyalty, and vengeance.

While Chapa draws on established elements of Malinalli’s life, she artfully bends history to serve her richly imagined magical world. The novel begins with Malinalli’s difficult birth, aided by Toci, the Aztec goddess of midwives and healers—who also delivers her unexpected twin brother, Eagle. After both Eagle and their father are killed by Emperor Moctezuma, Malinalli enters the Temple of the 18 Moons, where she trains to become a priestess and learns the lore of the goddesses. Her sharp mind and strong will carry her far, but her path is soon disrupted when she’s kidnapped and sold into slavery.

Chapa renders Malinalli as a deeply layered and compelling character. Her voice, central to the novel, is powerful not just in its literal function as translator but in its capacity to connect, resist, and reshape her world through storytelling.

In reclaiming Malinalli’s voice, Chapa aligns herself with a broader tradition of feminist of color writers. As William A. Calvo-Quiros notes in “Líbranos de Todo Mal / But Deliver Us From Evil,” these writers have re-signified La Malinche as “the mother of a mestizo race, a symbol of women’s resilience against patriarchal mistreatment.” In Malinalli, her resilience is amplified by magical power. Though enslaved, she radiates confidence and agency.

Magical realism becomes a vital tool in Chapa’s hands. As Stefanie Stave and Eirini Apanomeritaki explain in “The Arretos Kore: Mythical Voices in Contemporary Greek Fiction” this genre allows authors to “explore the place [women] hold in society by challenging the silence imposed upon them.” Through this lens, Chapa reveals the untold and unheard lives of extraordinary, marginalized women.

Malinalli’s story is one of steadfastness in the face of grief and trauma. Expected to serve Cortés, she instead uses her position to get closer to Moctezuma—the man responsible for her family's ruin. Navigating the tense dynamic between the two men, she becomes the linchpin, the translator who sees and knows more than either will admit.

At times, the novel’s pacing falters. Scenes of conflict feel rushed, while others stretch too long. The first-person narration, while effective in anchoring the reader in Malinalli’s perspective, occasionally reads as emotionally distant. And while Malinalli herself is fully realized, secondary characters—particularly her friend Hummingbird—could use deeper development. More context around mythological figures like Toci would also enrich the reader’s immersion in the world.

Still, these are minor flaws in an otherwise luminous debut. Malinalli excels in exploring the lasting impacts of colonization on Indigenous communities and in its challenge to entrenched patriarchal systems. Fans of Madeline Miller’s Circe, Zoraida Córdova’s The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina, and Kali Fajardo-Anstine’s Woman of Light will find themselves captivated by this powerful, myth-infused narrative of a woman who defies silence.

Fittingly, Chapa retells the story of Latin America’s conquest from the viewpoint of a translator—one long omitted from the historical record. In Malinalli, that voice rises, no longer silenced but fully formed, commanding, and deeply human.

Author, Veronica Chapa