After reflecting on each chapter, I either felt a sense of loss or weight. I believe the author wanted the reader to not have an easy time reading the novel.
Ernesto observed his surroundings like a curious child. He saw things that one may perceive to be insignificant; however, in the end, they ended up being everything. For example, stones weren’t just stones, walls weren’t just walls, and rivers weren’t just rivers, but rather they were living things that have memories of their own. There were times where I almost didn’t know how to feel about this. But then again, I thought to myself, what a good way to portray how children see the world as long as they lack the verbal abilities and power to describe what they see. The world is alive with energy and larger than life.
I was surprised by the parts involving the pongo. Not in an entertaining way (that’s not the best way to explain it), but because they dragged on for so long. The treatment of the pongo is humiliating; the even more unsettling part is that no one is disturbed by the treatment of the pongo, they appear to be all in agreement with how the pongo is being treated. Also, it made me think that Ernesto is observing this action, but does not have the words to describe what’s going on. However, he knows something is wrong. This made sense to me because I know when something is wrong even if I can’t articulate why yet.
Cuzco felt overwhelming to me. Although it’s beautiful, it still feels a bit heavy. To me, the sound of Maria Angola’s bell wasn’t relaxing, but rather it sounded sad and judgmental, like it carries the weight of everyone’s suffering rather than bringing comfort. I wondered why there was so much emphasis on religion throughout the novel, and why religion does not seem to provide any relief to anyone.
At times, I hoped that Ernesto would be more proactive in expressing his thoughts. However, sometimes I thought this is not entirely fair considering he is a young boy who has been forced to move many times and is used to seeing adults abuse one another as if there’s nothing wrong with it. Silence may be the only thing he knows. Overall, this book wasn’t a sudden emotional hit, but rather more of a slow build-up of sadness that stayed as I continued to read. I noticed that the book is full of bells, churches, and religious imagery, but everyone is still suffering. One question I’d like to discuss is, What do you think religion is actually doing there? Is it helping people, controlling them, or just distracting them?
5 replies on “Deep Rivers”
Interesting approach Jasmine.
The religion may be on the churches, bells, and lecture but there is also other type of religion, that is not only catholic. We can discuss it in class.
See you tomorrow.
Julián.
I liked your points about how Ernesto is curious, and how it is not an easy read, totally agree! I also agree with Julian that the book is extremely religious! I think its the whole point of the book, how indigenous religious beliefs incorporate nature and are superior to (especially) the Roman variety of Christianity. It definitely helps, unlike Roman Christianity which we all know the weaknesses of.
I liked the idea you wrote “Cuzco felt overwhelming to me”. I had a similar reflection on my blog post saying that the reading represents very well how even thought the culture is beautiful, it can feel overwhelming when described in words.
Jasmine, I really liked your insight about Ernesto noticing something is wrong even though he doesn’t have the words to explain it. Your post truly reflects how as a kid, he just doesn’t have all the information or understanding to make sense of what’s happening. That creates this strong feeling of confusion and silence in a way, he feels it emotionally, but can’t fully express it. I think that tension really helps us see how children experience or perceive complicated situations compared to use adults.
Hi Jasmine. To answer your question, I honestly don’t think religion in Deep Rivers is simply helping or simply controlling, it feels more complicated than that. On one hand, it clearly provides structure and a shared language for the community. For instance, the bells, churches, and rituals give people something stable in a world that feels unstable. But at the same time, it also seems tied to hierarchy and power. The same religious spaces that are supposed to offer comfort are connected to colonial authority and discipline, especially in places like the school. So instead of relieving suffering, religion sometimes feels like it absorbs it, like Maria Angola’s bell carrying everyone’s pain but not actually changing anything. Maybe it’s less about comfort and more about endurance: it keeps people going, but it doesn’t necessarily set them free.