I’m not really sure of what I just read. Is that the point? Maybe. From the very first page, this novel had felt different from anything else I have read in this course. It starts off with a drawn out introduction and I was kind of just thrown off, but also very intrigued? …
I thought it was interesting how the line between the author and narrator was sort of blurred. Rodrigo is constantly interrupting himself throughout, and making dramatic declarations like “I am absolutely tired of literature,” (61) but then continuing anyway. It didn’t bother me, although I was slightly confused. This constant disturbance by the narrator just kept reminding me that he is the one who gives Macabéa her existence. He claims to love her over and over again – “Only I, her author, love her” (35) – but this dynamic feels… complicated to me. It can feel protective, yes… but also patronizing.
And then there’s Macabéa herself. Take all of her pain and give it to her stupid ass ex-boyfriend. She is so painfully simple and she does not wish for much. She doesn’t even seem to know that she deserves more. “She didn’t know that she herself was a suicide… Because life was more tasteless to her than old bread with no butter” (50). She’s always just there, and existing in her own fragile way. The narrator compares her life at one point to “a thin slice of watermelon (19). Something small and fleeting.
Olímpico annoyed me. The way he speaks to her is constantly cruel. When he breaks up with her he tells her “You, Macabéa, are like a hair in the soup” (51). Despite his viciousness towards her, she loves him anyway. Not because he’s good though, but because she doesn’t know how to expect goodness.
The fortune teller scene almost gave me hope! Macabéa is said to have been “a person pregnant with the future (70). For once, she could believe that something beautiful is coming. And then that is her hour of the star, her death. Her one cinematic moment is when she is hit by a car and receives her recognition through this… and that’s it.
Finishing this novel, I felt puzzled and also moved. It felt surreal, philosophical, distraught, and tender all at once. Macabéa’s life is quiet and almost invisible. Nothing remarkable is done. She lives, suffers, and hopes, and the world keeps on turning anyway.
Question: Did you feel frustrated at all by the interruptive nature of the narrator?
Hi Emily, completely agree with you. Olimpico’s attitude was really questionable. Something I touched on in my blog, though: I guess I could understand some of his frustrations with Macabea’s limbo, but there were definitely a lot of things he said or did that were completely unacceptable.
Hi Emily. In response to your question, I actually did not feel frustrated by the narrator. To me, his constant interruptions reminded me that this was his story, and were simply reading it. In fact, I thought he was very amusing, especially when he took that 3 day break before continuing the tell the story.
“This constant disturbance by the narrator just kept reminding me that he is the one who gives Macabéa her existence. He claims to love her over and over again – “Only I, her author, love her” (35) – but this dynamic feels… complicated to me. It can feel protective, yes… but also patronizing”
I agree, this ethical issues are quite relevant throughout the whole novel and we are going to discuss it in class.
See you on Wednesday.
Julián.
HI emily! to answer your question, i think i enjoyed the interruptions and thought they added a bit of humour and shock into an otherwise bleak story..