Olivia GALLO

Las chicas no lloran

Girls Don’t Cry | Tenemos las máquinas, 2019


«I love Olivia Gallo's stories: I think she has a very languid, minimal style, where nothing seems to happen but it does. And in an age of big activists and concepts in capital letters, one appreciates talent with subtlety.» Valerie Miles

«A new storyteller is born: in these minimalistic tales, Olivia Gallo offers a portrait gallery of adolescents moving into young adulthood today. Stories in the first person, inhabited by fragile or disoriented presences in a world without references, where the first thing you feel is fear and then, as if reflexively, a weakening of tension reflected in the writing itself.» Daniel Gigena, Página 12

“A marathon with stages as slippery as they are dangerous: childhood, adolescence, youth. Olivia constructs poetic images that hypnotize with their elusiveness. Images you can touch and smell.” Victoria Pérez Zabala, La Nación

«Young but wise, compassionate but incorruptible, delicate as water, Olivia Gallo tells the events of yesterday from a distance. She pushes the past away, twists it, stretches it, savors it like a sour candy, lets herself be moved or irritated, but never to the point of tears. Never that far.» Magalí Etchebarne


Drawing closely on her own experience, Olivia Gallo writes with humor and irony about first trips, summer loves, afternoons whiled away on the web, but also the disappointment and frustration that come when journeys don’t have a happy end, loves fall apart and tranquil days conceal tense, sad, or dark moments.

The stories gathered in Las chicas no lloran, the literary debut of Argentine author Olivia Gallo, are run through with a very particular sort of nostalgia: for time lost just as one is starting to live. That feeling of frustration we feel when we are young, on the threshold between adolescence and adulthood; that moment of abrupt, unexpected change when a little paradise seems forever lost, and optimistic expectations come crashing into reality. Olivia Gallo presents an apparently happy world where her characters discover platonic love, sporadic sex, soft drugs, and the end of the authority of adults; but in her simple, lyrical prose all this is veiled in a disorienting fog, as if those moments that might irreparably mark the course of a life are now starting to fade away forever with the entrance into the world of adults.

*Working in conjunction with Tenemos las máquinas