Monday, November 24, 2008

Bordes, Bastards, Conversaciones and Criticism

It has a been a jolly good run, and I think that this class was the most intriguing and hands-on I've experienced at this institute of humanitarian holiness. The debates were heated, the participants were enthusiastic, and the relatively unswingable Swingspace began to oscillate like an overweight Cuban in a hammock! From the eloquence of Burton to the bloodiness of Cisneros, we experienced an array of literature that evoked every emotion from boredom to borderline insanity.

The wikipedia project was one of special importance to me, for I have used the tool before so in such a self-centered fashion that it felt only necessary that I give back to the community, even though the GA reviewers can be pretentious, but they damn well should, those selfless cats.

The class became increasingly sexy during our discussions in Spanish, where the language rebounded off the walls in a way I hadn't experienced before in my dreary grammatical Spanish classes in the past.

Latin America now is given a new life in my eyes, as before it was almost just an area on the map, but now I'm able to comprehend the difficulties and the beauty of life there. Most of all, I'm impressed with the intellect with our class, everyone raised interesting points and shared points of view that contrasted with everyone else's, and I'm grateful to have experienced a class where participation is encouraged rather than discouraged, which often times it is.

Identity was covered in great detail, from so many perspectives that I myself am confused as to what I am, except a white male born in Canada. In a way, I'm envious of Latino strong sense of being something, or even having a struggle in deciding what they are.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Remember it!

I find myself bound in appreciation of the legitimacy of Rodriguez's story. It is, without a doubt, an intimate portrayal of family life, personal emotions, and conflict within a person who has been given no opportunity to anticipate assimilation.

While I often find many emotional narrations of authors to be more or less contrived, hers do not seem to be so. Though I may disagree with certain sentiments concerning our acceptance of foreigners in Vancouver, I cannot argue with or against the immigrant experience within this context.

That being said, her use of metaphor in "Black Hole" is one I can only appreciate at an emotional level, not an artistic one. While the sentiment of blackness and morbidity may manifest itself in her, I find it a tad too generic to be one I might consider compelling on a literary level. I don't mean to sound arrogant, and I don't think that my view is compulsory, but the "black hole" concept is one I associate with a lack of objectivity and irrational negativity.

Of course, her story is still a personal one despite the more broad aspects of it. Descriptions of torture are powerful regardless of context, and I did feel a painful discomfort while reading them.

As in Alvarez's novel, the book straddles the line between autobiography and fiction, but obviously this book does not amount to a start-to-finish, or rather finish-to-start method. However, I take this book as a more literal approach to immigration and political exile than that of Alvarez's, in that it is more black and white and less personal. Alvarez combined politics and identity with a coming of age tale, while this is more of a fragmented telling of events within less plausible characters. It is, I find, less personal that How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, though probably more factual in content.

I've always thought that Vancouver was a place where art wasn't recognized, but Rodriguez gives me hope!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

To habla or not to habla, that is the question

If I've there's a book that disproves Oscar Wilde's assertion that art materializes solely from the mind of the artist with incredible but unintentional conviction, it's How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents. It comes off as so autobiographical that I have difficulty analyzing these characters, wondering: Were these created from the author's mind to serve a purpose? Or are they present simply because they were present?

I have little doubt in my mind that the numerous cousins, such as that materialistic one from the beginning that criticizes Yolanda's hair, and Mundi, the good childhood friend are entirely non-fictional and existed in Alvarez's life. So, why all the detail, intimate descriptions of life in the Dominican, life in the USA, and the thoughts in minds of people experiencing both lives when the book ends in such a surreal, hyperpersonal admission of guilt? Guilt is too broad of a term to use, because the ending exudes various trains of thought and emotion: those of nostalgia, self-pity, confusion of a child, and those of a confused adult whose confusion remains childhood confusion.

The ending punctuates my belief of its autobiographical nature when this strange cat, a metaphor for Alvarez's concern of potential literary and personal criticism both by herself and others stalks her throughout the final chapter. This cat can be substituted as a supernatural force that somehow enters the seemingly impregnable house. Evidently this haunting icon is not a physical force but a mental one, creeping the mind of Alvarez in her youth and in her adulthood, justifying the intimicacy with which we get to know her Yolanda. She cites "At that hour of loneliness, I hear her, that black furried thing lurking in the corners of my life, her magenta mouth opening, wailing over some violation that lies at the center of my art." Alvarez experiences guilt for creating a work that straddles the border between fiction and non-fiction as haphazardly as her characters do.

I don't think there is any critical middleground to why Alvarez employs such a strange chronology, the book is still art and thus doesn't require an explanation for the style with which it presents itself. I don't feel she did it to better convey the nature of the characters, because now that I've read the second half of the book, I have difficulty critiquing them with any presumptions I previously made! The characters of the second half don't really think any of the same thoughts as the ones from the beginning. I felt like I was reading two different books...the first half concerning the themes we've all agreed upon such as identity, assimilation, fragmented self etc. and the second half seemed more a study of morality and the texture of childhood minds.

I find that Alvarez's style is extremely visceral and foreign all at once, for her method of intertwining small remarks about tomboyism and childhood mindset with political unrest and Dominican culture leave me feeling distant and close to her writing. After reading numerous scholarly articles on the book I feel that I should be mentioning some of the incredibly complex allusions and social commentaries these academics accuse her of making, but because I never would've recognized what "should not be considered post-colonial uncelebrated discourse from a dehistoricized concept of cultural hybridity" I will not.

With regard to why Yolanda was institutionalized, I think it was her narcissicism that drove her insane, not America.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Dude, where's my accent?

I didn't want to jump on the bandwagon of people who think this is the most enjoyable read in the class so far, but it is in fact the most enjoyable read in the class so far, with the exception of the easy going Marti excerpts.

With Alvarez being my wikipedia project, I can certainly detect the autobiographical nature of this novel, especially within the character of Yolanda. Yolanda's poetic musings and genius can easily be attributed to those of Alvarez's, which I believe is how the character's thoughts are so incredibly believable to the point that I feel like I'm reading someone's memoirs.

A wonderful break from the relentless feminism of Cisneros, I find that How the Garcia Girls Lost their Accents can be read with or without a social context. It is a pleasurable read whether you choose to read it as cultural/political commentary or just character studies and commentary on certain personalities. It is so enjoyable in fact one might forget the contexts altogether and just read it as if it were a storybook.

You could call it magic realism, not in the sense of the literary term, but in Alvarez's ability to capture reality in such a way it would appear to be unrealistic to attempt such a feat. I've never had sisters or even multiple siblings but Alvarez makes the idea of having this large family quite appealing; they're best friends who have everything and nothing in common all once. From the strange Freudian scene where the daughters are kissing the around and blindfolded father to the super horny college b/f Rudy, Alvarez seems to effortlessly capture the psychology and thoughts of men even though as far as we know she is not a man at all. Again, a lovely break from the evil faceless male characters I had to endure throughout Woman Hollering Creek.

Love, in this book, has a face as well, perhaps not completely defined, but is investigated not just in the Latin sense but between two distinct personalities, for e.g. the relationship between Yolanda and John. Yolanda by page 100 has already shown she asserts herself not just as a woman but as an individual by not having sex with Rudy nor with John during that sweaty humid night. She has such an ability to listen to the better side of her conscience and ability to resist temptation she has nothing in common with traditional female figures like Eve of Eden, a character in a book she still latches onto with a strange guilt or religious confusion.

Blah blah blah, I could go all night about how great this book is.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Cries, Lies, and some Zapata Guy's Eyes

This compilation was difficult for me to relate to, because the majority of the stories conveyed more negative emotion and romantic sadness individually than I have experienced in the total emotional compilation of my life. As a result, I'm hesitant to even criticize the tales of these women when I have little experience of romantic abandonment or heartbreak. But I will attempt to nonetheless.

Eyes of Zapata begins with a description of woman doting over a man, confessing her intimate habits, both sexual and plainly affectionate, who somehow can remember every detail of a lover who she, in a way, barely knows. He clearly does not have respect for women, is disloyal; and as the story proceeds I stay completely confused as to what this relationship ever meant as she dwells further into a shroud of poetic abandonment. Does this reinforce the age-old theory that women fall for bad men? Or were the only men around at that time bad ones? This story does not arouse our sympathy in the way that Woman Hollering Creek indubitably does, as Inés was warned by her father to not get involved with the man. Alas, she rebels against her father's will and, like he promised, suffers as a result of her relationship with this man.

Cisnero's writing here is poetic, but whether or not it's intended to be romantic is unclear; romance usually attempts to balance a certain amount of positive energy with negative, and there's certainly none of that here. Ultimately the protagonist fancied herself different from other women (p.109) but suffered the same romantic death that so many did by the hands of this Zapata character, whose eyes are spread as sparsely as the heartbreak he's caused. Wistful, worn-out and withered, the narrator speaks with nostalgia and hopeless romance about someone who deserves probably to die or at least be forced into celibacy forever. An excellent warning for anyone who is prone to confuse unconditional love with conditional sexual encounters.

I find Cisnero's fragmented language and stream-of-consciousness writing style more enjoyable to read when the subjects are not so heavily wrought with emotion. "There was a Man, There was a Woman" utilizes her poetic style quite nicely, and much is left to the imagination, whereas "Eyes of Zapata" is probably the least concise thing I've ever read. I'm sorry to admit that I found it rather redundant in its endless reminiscence and mind-wandering. I'm also getting really hungry after all these mentions of tasty Mexican cuisine.

We get somewhat of an explanation for the infidelity of Mexican/Mexican-American men on pg 156 of "Bien Pretty" where Flavio states "Loving one person doesn't take away from loving another. It's that way with me with love. One has nothing to do with the other. In all seriousness and with all my heart I tell you this, Lupe." One could discern that men perhaps can love more than one person at once, while women are doomed to be stricken with "one-itis" or obsession of the idea of a significant other. This character of Flavio is the most human of the men in the book, and perhaps that's why the story ends with the woman's sense of optimism; not necessarily as a woman but as an individual, which is what the book should strive for, in my opinion. A nice break from the men destroying the individuality of women.

Too often in the book did we see women seeking revenge and growing disdain for the other women their men were sleeping with, when likely they were all sharing similar states of emotion. If there is one important lesson that should be learned from Cisnero's stories, that is to not depend on a man for happiness, and certainly not relinquish one's sense of self-fulfillment for an idealistic/futile form of love.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Woman Hollering Creek

This book is not so much a probe into identity as it is a reminiscence of Chicano/Chicana life before it can be necessarily be acknowledged as such. We experience the various memories, first-person narrative coming-of-age tales, and third person observations without knowing much back story or mythology about these seemingly endless protagonists. However, I'm going to try to be more specific in my musings than I tend to be...

This book, unlike the others, is modern in its revelations, new in its creation, and abundant in its pop culture references...I love the mention of Alarma! the gory Mexican tabloid magazine which is actually quite an entertaining read if you are able to desensitize yourself enough from violent pictures that you can read the rather comical articles...probably no worse than the video games we play here. It is a pretty disgusting rag, nonetheless I enjoyed the allusion.

I'm not sure if Cisneros intended to make all men look like insensitive misogynists that lack any sense of responsibility or humanity but she does a revolutionary job of portraying them as such...I guess it's pretty accurate. I don't take offense to be honest, it in many ways rings true...I just don't like how the female characters are ignorant to the fact that men are like this, how they are bloodthirsty dogs who want to copulate with them yet they romanticize the memory of them after they never make contact (p. 30).

I'm not trying to discredit Cisnero's personal experiences with men in her community, but other than a few mentions of boys experiencing discrimination because of their race I felt the novel was a never-ending well of female emotion being either drained or poisoned by men. There are brief descriptions of romance, passion, and then indelible consequences, eternal pain, of these men impregnating women, breaking hearts, deaf to the cries of their victims. These women describing their experiences are intelligent, are aware, but seem to blame rather than take control of the unfortunate situation bestowed upon them...I find it to be more demoralizing for women than it is empowering, as I read on page 100 of the details of a man charming and beautiful, impervious to guilt, and irresistible to all, yet never does a woman become wise to his irresponsible actions.

Still, the sense of togetherness in family is charming throughout, and unconditional love is a major theme in this opus...the imagination of Cisneros is so beautiful and limitless, dreaming up images, smells, both malodorous and pleasant, it brings to mind a photograph interactive in every way. She effectively combines nostalgia with conflict, and in many of these short stories she creates spirits unchained; dramatically pained in their existence but never stagnant.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

La clase

I wrote the wrong blog on Sunday......

I've enjoyed most the various styles of writing employed by the writers. I'm a bit of a sucker for Barton's eloquence and her coy narratives in her book, which are reminiscent of a hipster music critic reviewing 19th century white society. As well, her characters are so poignantly created they linger in your mind for days after reading it, whether it be Hackwell idiosyncrasies and conniving speeches or Mrs. Norval's silly points of view. There are elements of humour which are strewn throughout it, so once you get over the fact that it's not an easy read you can enjoy the richness that bleeds over the pages.

Marti's observational stylings are quite sensational, though for someone whose Spanish skills need some crimping I couldn't grasp every one of his descriptions. He does open our eyes to the experience of New York as the bustling, almost supernatural metropolis that it remains as today. Having seen New York City it was interesting to read someone who shared the same awe as I did after visiting the city. It was also enjoyable that his views of America were taken from an objective way, and didn't let many of his own opinions barge in.

Rivera was a good read as well, though more emotional then it was eloquent, it certainly captures all the pains of the labouring Mexican-Americans in a surreal way in many ways incomparable to anything I've ever read.

All in all, it's interesting exploring different methods these authors comment on society and how it's experienced by Mexican-Americans, and I look forward to delving in further.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Rivera's style of writing this novel was, and I have to concede with many of my classmates, a rather intimate and unprecedented approach unlike that of anything I've read in the past. How does it affect the reader in ways similar and different than that of the other novel Who would have thought it? I'd begin with the context of both plots---in one, we have the character of Lola, an exceptionally intelligent young girl of Mexican descent who really has no idea of what Mexican culture means nor has any particular ties with Mexicans. She suffers somewhat, yet the book is largely one focused on class, and we can infer that she is not the only who faces discrimination, there also exists Mrs. Norvall bound to the ropes of her gender role. In And the Earth Did Not Swallow him, we experience exclusively the struggles, meanderings and injustices of Mexican-Americans. In terms of spirituality And the Earth Did Not Swallow him has heavier religious themes, yet no particular sect is mentioned unlike in Who Would Have Thought It? where predominately we enjoy the likes of WASPS and little else.

And the earth did not swallow him is rich with emotion not difficult to detect, I would say there is little ambivalence in the inherent pains this protagonist (or the multitude of them) suffers from. He does not get the education he deserves despite being just as intelligent as anyone else. He does not enjoy the occasional or even sole anglo-saxon companion to help him or at least wish him out of his turmoil, allowing for quite a depressing read if you were to read the novel as a character study or as a mere tale. However, it's not a character study, and I believe that it's important that one reads the book in not an objective way but, how shall I phrase it, a manner that's detached from your conventional method of analysis. What I mean by that is there is no omniscience to refer to, there is somewhat of a definitive protagonist, but his thoughts are few and far between with respect to lineage and development. That being said, we have to use Rivera's written emotion and let it meddle with your own to comprehend the messages this book is conveying, and even those are somewhat cryptic. Rivera does not seek to evoke just our sympathy, his story is an edification to the hardships experienced by classes we as readers may have been unaware even existed.

Note that Rivera ends the novel with intended ambiguity rather than a generic conclusion or an attempt to encompass the sruggles of Mexican-Americans. It would be easy to say that it ends with a feeling of hope, which on an elementary level it does, but I would say that it ends with a spiritual awakening, of an acceptance that life will never be perfect, at least in his lifetime. His cries for help may not be answered, but he can soothe them with his own growth.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

...y no se lo trago la tierra

The book itself was considerably less scary than the cover, however it was no less emotional. The book was, if I dare say, realistically surreal, I in the sense that it was so reminiscent of youth I had a funny feeling of strange nostalgia I rarely experience as I read it. I found myself identifying with thoughts from the narrator that I previously had forgotten I had had when I was younger. The idea of demon or devil is common in the mind of many children regardless of religious upbringing, and Rivera is surprisinly in touch with that idea of childhood fear, of darkness, of being left alone for unknown periods of time, only to wake up in the daylight to face a whole different array of troubles.

I didn't have a childhood much like that of our protagonist, yet his thoughts and fears ring true regardless. Every child wants to please their parents, and in a way every child fears how their parents will receive them...the idea of disappointing the ideals of your parents exists within everyone, and Rivera's character is no exception. The book highlights social injustice and isolation as did "Who would have thought it?" and the first person narration made it more emotional than the former for me to read. When we read "I don't like Mexicans because they steal", it is very vivid...probably one of the more piercing racist remarks I've read in literature, despite its simplicity. While I felt "Who would have thought it?" was more composed in a more complex, eloquent manner, the shrill but simple dialogue of this piece worked to the author's advantage. The two books engage different parts of my sensitive persona.

What Rivera accomplishes is interpreting an unjust society through the eyes of someone too young to be sure of what that is. Rather than preaching to his readers, he edifies us in a manner both vivid and vicarious; using the symbolism of a child's imagination to express emotion on issues that do not begin in the middle of life, rather at the start.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Escenas Norteamericanas

En El Puente de Brooklyn, Marti obviamente tiene mucha admiracion para esta gran ciudad. Sus descripciones estan llenas con detalles y factos sobre el puente. Parece que alguien encontraba esta ciudad, con su technologia y gente de todos raices, ser magnifico en todos aspetos. Es interesante que Marti compara el puente a monumentos como el Acropolis, que en mi opinion, no es la comparacion mas apropriada, porque el Acropolis fue construido antes del tiempo de Jesus y no tuvo la intencion de viajo mas facil. Pero yo pienso que el punto que marti esta haciendo es que New York es como un nuevo nacimiento de civilizacion. Marti probablemente no ha visto una ciudad donde diversidad esta a cada esquina, donde los edificios aparece como los dios han construido. Refierre a partes especificas con gran fascinacion:
Mas, como anclaron en la tierra esos magicos cables?
En mi opinion, este articulo concierna mas con la ciencia del puente sino que la alma o emocion.

Coney Island, en la otra mano, es un texto que funciona mas como literatura o poesia que el previo sobre el puente. Sin embargo, yo preferia leer algo con menos vocabulario y muchas mas morismos, por ejemblo una traduccion de The Babysitters Club o El Diablo Lleva Prada. Es dificul concluir si Marti esta en realidad impresionante con todos aspetos de New York, porque no creo que el estado de New York es tan perfecto como el descrube. Con oraciones como "que absoluta ausencia de toda tristeza o pobreza posibles!" es dificil saber si es cinico o no. Quizas esta observando que New York puede ocultar la pobreza. O quizas no tengo la capacidad comprender sus ensayos en su totalidad...

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Part 2 of Who would have thought it

Although not a "can't put it down novel" I began to adore the conniving bigots that are Hackwell, Hammerhard and Mrs. Norval after 120 pages, and actually began to dislike the perfect characters of Lola and Julian.  I say this because I feel that none of these open-minded and exceptional people are confronted with any sort of moral dilemma or question of honor, Ruiz de Barton constantly and sometimes not plausibly uses them to evoke sympathy from the reader.  While I felt it at the beginning, it began to run a tad dry after around 250 pages of them being screwed around by either the government or non-Catholic chivalrous ministers turned war heroes. 

That being said, however, Ruiz de Barton is certainly a writer of verbose style and eloquence, which some of the class interpreted as being tedious, when in fact she is a writer of talent not just in the context of someone whose second language is English but in general as well.  An example would be when discussing one of the more subversive characters, Mrs. Norval, on page 136:
"So let us be charitable with her---although she was never known to be so towards anyone---and learn not to pitch our voices so high as she did at the beginning of her song, for we may also find how to difficult to is to maintain such diapason."

I found myself questioning my own ignorance as I read her use of words such as "pusillaminity", "maelstrom" and "opprobrium" without any arrogance as I spent the majority of the book compiling a vocabulary list.  

I have to question my previous self for saying last week the book is not a feminist novel, when clearly the lack of women's rights and imposed weaknesses permeate much of the prose and internal soliloquies.  What surprises me is how Burton allows Hackwell's character to maintain such intellectual power over even the most cunning of female characters (Lola).  Although preying on her young age and naivety, I felt that his intentions should have been questioned more, as he is so conspicuously shrewd and deceitful from the beginning of the novel.  Even someone as manipulative as Mrs. Norval was blind to his narcissistic ways because of his charm, while we as the readers must sit back without feeling much suspense anticipating his next sneaky move.  

Ruiz de Burton, as much as she should be credited for her insight on the struggles of women in her time, does not seem to extend her sympathy towards blacks, as even Julian on page 241 says: "I should have my freedom.  If the negroes have it, why shouldn't I?"  It's a tad insensitive, considering the book's major theme is about prejudice.   Then again, it's dialogue, not narrative, and only so much can be inferred. 



Monday, September 8, 2008

Who would have thought it?

Although during the first 2 pages I thought a more appropriate title would be "Who would have bought it?" I'm actually quite intrigued with it now, and am quite fond of the Dr. Norval, though I question his choice in marrying such a shrewd woman. I do find it so far that the male characters seem to be far less vicious and prejudiced than the females, yet at the same time find myself sympathizing with all the female characters in their unwanted social roles. Who knew that marriage could be worse than is today? I didn't realize that book was so antiquated, until they mentioned the year directly I believed it to be more recent, because the dialogue isn't as far removed from modern speech as I would usually associate 19th century literature to be.

So far the bigotry of some characters in the novel is so profane it's difficult for me to imagine, however, I love the fact that there exists characters that do in face set themselves apart through genuine concern and proverbial mindset. Reading below I see that some don't appreciate the descriptive manner of writing in which she uses and mentioning the historical background, but I see it as a strength rather than a weakness, as the book may lose it's context should that not be included. Her storytelling stays consistent in regards to both its literary quality and its obvious historical accuracy, as it was written so quickly after such events would have transpired. I enjoy also how there are references to better explain the context of the writing. Despite the morbidity of social injustice the book conveys, I still enjoy the humour we see is evident as the neighbours gossip about each other and use mockery I think is ahead of its time.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

HOLA

Hola a todos, mi nombre es Daniel, un estudiante de español a la universidad mas bella en todo el mundo, en el opinion de mi ex-novia. Chevere. Dejenme explicar un poco de yo. Me gusta animales y musica, especialmente la combinacion de ambos. Mi tio se llama Roy, es un mechanico, y este año yo quiero tocar en una banda.