The Wonders, by Spanish writer Elena Medel, is a lyrical and deeply moving novel that examines how class, gender, money, and history shape the lives of working-class women across generations in Spain, from the second half of the twentieth century into the first half of the twenty-first century.
Through the parallel stories of María and her granddaughter Alicia, two women who never meet, Medel explores the enduring effects of poverty and the ways economic insecurity influences personal choices, family relationships, and women’s ability to exercise independence. Spanning from the final years of Franco’s dictatorship to the 2018 women’s protests, the novel argues that while Spain has changed dramatically, many of the structural inequalities affecting working-class women remain firmly in place.
The novel alternates between María, who leaves her rural home for Madrid in 1969 after becoming pregnant as a teenager, and Alicia, who lives in Madrid in the 2010s after her family’s financial collapse following her father’s suicide. Although separated by almost fifty years, their lives mirror one another. Both women work unstable, poorly paid jobs, struggle to maintain autonomy, and both find that money, or the lack of it, determines the opportunities available to them.
One of the novel’s central arguments is that economic circumstances profoundly shape people’s lives. María’s entire future is altered by poverty. Looking back on her youth, she wonders whether she would ever have met the man with whom she became pregnant had her family been able to afford to keep her in school rather than sending her to work. Her lack of financial resources forces her to leave her daughter Carmen behind when she moves to Madrid.
Throughout her life, she saves constantly in the hope of bringing Carmen to live with her, but the money she is able to put aside is “never enough.” The effects of this separation reverberate across three generations, profoundly shaping María’s relationships with both her daughter and granddaughter.
Medel repeatedly demonstrates that poverty is not simply a lack of material comfort but a force that shapes identity and relationships. María recognises this when she says:
“The apartment she lives in is the apartment she can afford, not the apartment she’d like to have. Everything she hasn’t experienced has been because of a lack of money. The holidays she hasn’t taken, the dresses she’s decided not to buy, eating at home (…), to save a little.”
This passage captures the cumulative nature of deprivation. Poverty is not a single dramatic event but a series of daily limitations that gradually narrow a person’s opportunities to socialise, participate in society, and simply be in the world.
The same economic pressures continue to shape Alicia’s life decades later. Although she spent her childhood in relative comfort thanks to her father’s successful business, this stability proves to be an illusion. After his suicide, Alicia’s life changes dramatically. Unable to complete her studies, she moves between low-paid jobs, carefully monitoring supermarket discounts and struggling to save money. Medel highlights the precariousness of modern work through Alicia’s experiences:
“Alicia won’t need any money till after her shift ends, but it makes her uncomfortable, this feeling of being so close to zero.”
This passage, especially the words “close to zero,” conveys not only financial insecurity but also the psychological burden of constantly living on the edge of poverty.
The novel also explores how class intersects with gender. María and Alicia’s struggles are shaped not only by economic hardship but by the expectations placed upon women. Throughout the novel, women from working class background are expected to care for children, elderly relatives, and sick family members while continuing to work for wages. Their labour, both paid and unpaid, remains largely invisible.
This invisibility is especially evident in María’s observations of the neighbourhood association she attends. Initially, she remains silent during meetings, carefully writing down book titles and reading them later. Although she develops strong political and intellectual opinions, she hesitates to speak publicly. The meetings reveal the gendered dynamics of power: women prepare food and serve drinks while men dominate discussions. María notices that the women accompanying their partners never speak, despite being intelligent and well-read. Society fails to recognise them as thinkers. These women are often perceived through the lens of assumptions, prejudices, and class-based biases stemming from their working-class origins.
María’s relationship with Pedro further illustrates these inequalities. Although he presents himself as politically progressive, he becomes uncomfortable when María begins to think independently. When Pedro repeats her ideas to his friends, María experiences a complicated sense of pride because her thoughts are being heard, even though nobody knows they originated with her. As a cleaner, she is rarely seen as someone capable of intellectual contribution. People in more financially privileged positions, both men and women, see only her occupation and are unable to imagine that a person’s job does not necessarily reflect their interests, curiosity, or wisdom.
Yet over the next thirty years, the neighbourhood association also becomes a space of liberation. Through books and discussion, María gradually gains confidence, leading her to reflect:
“That was the first time in my life that I felt like people were listening when I talked, and respecting what I said… because someone understood me, agreed with me, and thought what I had to say was worth listening to in and of itself.”
For María, intellectual recognition becomes a form of empowerment. Being able to express her own ideas matters more than anything Pedro can offer her. Her development demonstrates the importance of being recognised as a full person rather than an extension of someone else’s identity.
The novel repeatedly highlights how class shapes social interactions. One striking example occurs when María meets an office worker in a bar bathroom. The woman is surprised to discover that María works as a cleaner, admitting:
“I did not know people did that … people like you. I never thought about someone coming to pick up the rubbish.”
The exchange exposes the invisibility of working-class labour. The woman benefits daily from María’s work without ever considering the people who perform it.
Medel emphasises the contrast between their lives through a memorable observation:
“That’s another way Maria and Lady are different. Two legs, two arms, a mouth, a nose, two eyes (…): they have all of that in common, but (…) not their ways of getting home- a taxi for Lady, but the night bus for Maria.”
The passage highlights how class differences manifest themselves in everyday experiences. Something as simple as transportation becomes a marker of inequality and indicates the level of safety that each woman can afford. The ability to afford a taxi, particularly late at night, a better flat in a safer neighbourhood, or activities that nurture one’s interests and passions influences not only a person’s comfort and safety but also their social standing and how they are perceived by others.
Alicia’s story demonstrates that these inequalities persist into the 21st century. Like María, she struggles with unstable employment, loneliness, and limited opportunities. She cannot afford therapy despite the trauma of her father’s death. She worries about losing her flat and returning to shared accommodation where her privacy will be compromised. She does not want children, partly because she cannot imagine providing financial security for another person. Medel presents these concerns not as individual failures but as logical responses to economic precarity.
The novel also examines how emotional wounds are transmitted across generations. María’s inability to raise Carmen is shaped by poverty, yet the consequences extend far beyond economics. The separation affects Carmen’s relationship with her mother and ultimately influences Alicia’s life as well. Family history becomes a series of absences, misunderstandings, and inherited fears. María and Alicia share similar anxieties, frustrations, and desires for independence despite different generations.
The Wonders culminates in the 2018 feminist demonstrations in Madrid, where women of different generations come together. While women’s movements have achieved important gains, economic inequality continues to limit women’s freedom, particularly that of working-class women. María recognises that even participating in political protest requires money. Independence, dignity, and activism all depend upon having sufficient resources.
Ultimately, The Wonders is a powerful exploration of working-class women’s lives. Through María and Alicia, Medel demonstrates how poverty shapes opportunities, relationships, and self-perception across generations. The novel gives visibility to women whose labour is often ignored and whose voices are rarely heard. It examines the shame attached to class background, accents, and financial instability while celebrating the resilience and intelligence of women who continue to think, read, work, and survive despite difficult circumstances. By connecting personal stories to broader social and historical forces, Medel creates a moving portrait of the enduring relationship between money, power, and women’s lives.
