Author Archives: jada bekar

Conclusion

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This was a great course for me. I felt like this gave me great insight on some classics which will make for good discussions over dinner. I have always loved literature classes because I think it is imperative to discuss other people’s takes on texts. I really appreciated having deep contexts for the novels and novellas we read as I probably wouldn’t have been able to develop that on my own.

One of my new favourite quotes was one from Proust which we read at the beginning. ‘Only in recollection does an experience become fully significant, as we arrange it in a meaningful patter, and thus the crucial role of our intellect, our imagination, in our perception of the world and our re-creation of it to suit our desire; thus the importance of the role of the artist in transforming reality according to a particular inner vision: the artist escapes the tyranny of time through art,’. That is truly quite special and meaningful to me, and I continued to reference it in a few of my following blog posts. 

My favourite work that we read was The Shrouded Woman by Maria Luisa Bombal. The Time of the Doves was a close second for me and I saw similarities in the writing style between the two. The Shrouded Woman was my favourite because of the symbols. If I could go back, I would focus on the colours and try to analyze them as I noticed symbolism such as ‘all dressed in white with a yellow dahlia’ (189).

I was so appreciative that we got to speak with one of the authors! That was something special. He was such a character, too! I also enjoyed the contract format for grading in this course. In other courses, sometimes even after I’ve done all the work and studied hard, I’ll still be unpleasantly surprised by a test grade. I am thankful that we had the liberty to choose how much we could do and what we were interested in. I am also grateful that I now have so many great works to add to my collection. It was nice that all comments would be written on the board and the instructors seemed genuinely interested in hearing our interpretations (but you can correct me if I’m wrong).

My question for you is do you have any regrets about how many or which texts you chose?

 

 

Amulet

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I truly enjoyed reading ‘Amulet’ this week. I think Auxilio as a character was really well developed and realistic. With her being ‘the mother of poetry’, the work was quite poetic with the metaphors and rhythm at points. My favourite line was ‘I was there with them because I had nothing either, except my memories’ (p. 44). It reminded me of that saying about the only two things you can take to the grave with you, which are a bit vulgar for an academic blog post, but memories nonetheless.

‘Amulet’ did leave me with a few questions. At the beginning, I was wondering what the vase symbolized that Don Pedro was so disturbed by? Bolaño goes as far to describe it as having ‘Hell or one of its secret doors’ (p. 6) and the significance of this vase went over my head. If anyone has any insights, I would love to hear.

I admired the development of Auxilio’s friendship with Elena. Through this, it seemed like one of the only times Auxilio had an element of stability in her life, though it turned out to be fleeting. With all their good memories and time spent together, I was surprised by how it turned out. I was wondering why Elena’s friendship with Auxilio was dependent on her relationship with Paolo? To me, it would seem natural for Elena to grow seek comfort from Auxilio in this situation, as Auxilio had gotten to know them both and been along for the ride.

I really enjoyed the metaphors in this novella. It made the work quite lively and aided the magical surrealism. On page 5, Auxilio says ‘the dust was never going to go away, since it was an integral part of the books’ and talks about how it is their way of life. This reminded me of on page 44 where growing up in this wartime is described as the ‘storms of Mexico’. The dust on the books is an ‘integral part’, dark and dampening like a storm cloud, something else you can’t quite escape, but always feel.

The Trenchcoat by Norman Manea

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The start of this work interested me as it began in media res and I was excited to have a plot driven novella. At the beginning, with the talk of how people don’t have parties anymore and are ready to kill for a drop of gas, I was drawing parallels to our current situation today. I also noted the recurring themes of anxiety and over-thinkers in many of the workers we’ve looked at thus far. As well, I learned the word ‘logorrhea’ from page 256 meaning someone who talks too much which I will most certainly be using.

With characters’ names like ‘the Guileless One’, ‘the Kid, and ‘the Learned One’ and starting in action, the beginning was a bit hard to follow, but I warmed up to it as having a description for a name eases characterization. To me, this seemed like code names because of the theme of censorship and the paranoia of being constantly watched.

When the trenchcoat is referred to as ‘the one you see in all of the stores’, as opposed to ‘the one that __’ was wearing, it seemed as if the characters were subconsciously furthering themselves from the malignant mystery. The trenchcoat is characterized with a dark, ominous cloud around it and, as humans, it is easier for the mind to imagine the source as something distant that you see in the stores or in the movies. This evil air can be seen when the owner of said coat is referred to as ‘the culprit’ on page 267, despite them just having said ‘culprit’ over for dinner.

I am looking forward to hearing Manea in person because I feel like there is a symbol that I am missing when it comes to the coat, which I understand is the point. However, when the coat is described as ‘anthropomorphized’ on page 289, paired with ‘anyone can become anything’ (p. 293), there has to be some connection to the multifaceted nature of humanity or a historical meaning for communist Romania.

A feature of this novella that I enjoyed was Manea’s stream of consciousness style. The run-on dialogue ending with phrases like ‘what was I saying?’ or ‘you know’ made it seem very realistic and fast-paced. It also seemed as though the phrases the characters omitted from their speech or would replace with ‘you know’ furthered the theme of censorship. The stream of consciousness style heavily included repetition in both dialogue and descriptions. My question for you this week is how does Manea utilize repetition? Are there any points of repeating words or phrases that stood out to you?

W, or, the Memory of Childhood

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This work from Georges Perec was a ‘break’ from the others that we have been reading. I found his style of storytelling to be refreshing from the others with its short chapters and concise descriptions. At the beginning, with the worrying over the letter in chapter 3, I thought ‘great, another over-thinker’, but was pleasantly surprised. My favourite line, which I will definitely be using, was ‘I re-read the books I love and I love the books I re-read’ from page 143.

The ways in which he draws on his childhood memories was interesting to me. Firstly, describing childhood as a ‘set of co-ordinates from which the axes of my life may draw their meaning’ (p. 12) was a precursor for the rest of the work. This is seen in the fragmented memories and the parallels to the Olympics. On page 115, Perec recalls knowledge he acquired about trees attached to specific memories. This encapsulated his very realistic recollection for me as I, too, am reminded of particular memories attached to specific facts, no matter how much time has passed or how many times I’ve been reminded. Another line that captured the human nature of memory recollection was ‘virtually as I wrote up these three memories, a fourth came back to me’ (p. 54). This demonstrated the dynamism of memory and recounting, the fluidity over factuality.

On page 32, he mentions that he believes his mother ‘learnt to be a hairdresser’ which reminded me of the Proust quote about the construction of memories. Perec later says ‘writing is the memory of their death and the assertion of my life’ (p. 42) which, again, reminded me of ‘the artist escapes the tyranny of time through art’ from Proust. In addition, Perec writes a narrative of memories and then adds footnotes correcting all of these memories starting on page 34. The amalgamation of these illustrates how with time, we can create our own realities through our memories. The reconstruction of our memories, details added or omitted, can transform what was once our living reality. Yet, why is his memory of childhood ‘more accurate’ as an adult than when he was a child, much closer to the events actually occurring?

 

The Time of the Doves

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This book was beautiful and vivid! It was truly a pleasant read for me. The run-on sentences had me stumble a few times, but made for truly lively imagery. My favourite line of imagery is ‘a drop of oil would run straight down her back’ (p. 169).

At the end, I was wondering how Natalia’s life would have been if she married instead. I was worried for Natalia at first when she met Quimet and said ‘he said if I wanted to be his wife I had to start by liking everything he liked’ (p.22). What a great start to a relationship with bold statements like these and changing her name upon meeting her! At times, their relationship seemed loveless to me, but Natalia was so imprinted by Quimet. This could also be because those were fundamental years of her life, riddled with war, poverty, and suicidal ideation. I feel like if she had been married to any man during that period, she would have the same attachments and flashbacks. I would love to hear other interpretations, though. Do you think Natalia truly loved Quimet and vice versa?

Something that I thought was sweet was the tie between when Father Joan tells Natalia ‘in all the marriages I’ve performed – all the good ones, that is – the bride wore a wedding gown’ (p. 39) and the ending where Natalia says ‘in a good marriage the bride always wears a wedding gown’ (p. 188). Natalia’s past, the good and the bad, always follows her and ultimately helps her find peace in the ending. This is quite evident in the symbolism of the birds and flowers. I had difficulty understanding the true symbolic meaning of the doves as I felt that it changed situationally. I hope that we will get to discuss this part in class. I also struggled with the symbolism of the balls in the church on pages 150 and 151, so if you are reading this and have any insights, please share!

At the end I still wanted to know who is Maria to Quimet? I wish there was more of a background for why he was the way he was. I thought that the ending was sweet with Natalia’s description of her touching Antoni’s belly button. On page 63, the midwife tells her that ‘the belly button is the most important part of the body’ about Antoni Jr./Toni. There are a few references following this, but have this action at the ending shows how Natalia carries the same values and lessons.

Week 4: ‘The Shrouded Woman’

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‘Why, oh why must a woman’s nature be such that a man has always to be the pivot of her life?’ (p. 226). What a fantastic question! I have yet to quite be able to put that into words. This week’s reading was a great refresh from Proust and Aragon and gave me hope that one can say their peace even after they’ve passed. Conceptually, this work reminded me a lot of ‘A Chronicle of a Death Foretold’ which is another South American piece wherein the story is told through the events leading up to the death and a tale about honour decorated with magical surrealism.

I enjoyed the karmic cycle of Ricardo marrying a foreign-born girl whom he picked over Ana Maria, just for their son and him to be left by her. Whilst he couldn’t marry Ana Maria because of her family’s financial status, Ricardo’s family faces financial depletion as they essentially bribe Sofia to ‘resist the temptation to take her son back to Europe with her’ (p. 222-223). These events paired with Sofia’s curiosity about Ana Maria on page 235 remind me of how the lesson that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Another part that stood out to me was ‘I could only hear your words: “I’m not the one to blame.”‘ (p. 174). This highlights the recurring theme of destiny. What a sad state to live in, wherein it is easier to place blame in the hands of destiny than it is to accept that your love is unreciprocated.

One of my favourite lines is ‘to tear pieces a butterfly, in order to feel themselves masters of their own destiny’ (p. 166). She first says ‘now that I am dead’ and the imagery of the butterfly shows how delicate our fate is and how destructive our actions can be. This line speaks to how one realizes life is out of our control and altering our destiny is like tearing a butterfly, but at the end it doesn’t change when you’re dead. This line can be connected to ‘must we die in order to know certain things?’ (p. 176). This is life’s greatest question. Humans seek comfort in ‘seeing their life flash before their eyes’ and an afterlife, but in reality, death is when we will know the least of all. How do these characters seek comfort in their destructive actions and in the looming eyes of death?

 

Week 3: Paris Peasant

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From the degree of the angle to which a building is adjacent from another, to the palpable explanations of otherwise mundane objects, like a chair, Aragon’s words draw the reader in as imagination blends with description. I had never read a book quite like this before. With little plot, but extensive descriptions mixed with existential pondering, the book reads as whimsical and I feel as though I am reading a painting. After the inclusion of André Breton, I had to search up his relationship with author and suddenly all the pieces came together.

Aragon has a unique way of combining hyperreal descriptions with metaphors and imagination which I had previously only experienced in the visual art world. Lines that encapsulate this writing style to me is ‘everything is cognate of imagination, and imagination is innate in everything’ (p. 64) paired with ‘the trouble is that you fail to appreciate the strength of the unreal. Your imagination, my dear fellow, is worth more than you can imagine.’ (p.61). These emphasize the role of the psyche and subconscious in both creating and everyday life, which is a reflection of the modernist movement combined with the intentions of surrealism.  The second quote is followed by a conversation written as a play between Sense, Will, Understanding, and Man. Non-tangible sentiments like these, and Boredom later on in the book, take on life forms and personalities, juxtaposing the concrete structures and their contents being described in explicit, often lifeless details. This flipping back and forth, waiting for the metaphysical to appear in the hyperreal, creates pace and was the most enjoyable part of the book to me. My favourite example of this is ‘this spectre is boredom, an exquisitely beautiful young man who yawns and walks around with a butterfly net to catch goldfish’ (p. 127). I much preferred that fun characterization unlike his mechanical depictions of André Breton and Marcel Noll.

I found it a bit hard to follow at times as Aragon truly does have imagination in everything, but enlightening nonetheless. While Aragon and the surrealist movement emphasize the role of imagination, why is so little left to it at times? Aragon describes some of the bars down to how many chairs at each table and their specific locations. As well, how can dadaism be seen in this work besides the graphic inserts? Where do dadaism and surrealism intersect here? A great feature of literature courses is others sharing connections that I have not made and I am eager to hear what I haven’t picked up.

 

Proust, “Combray”

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The first thing that stood out to me was the ‘invalid at midnight’. He is excited because he thinks he sees the light, that his ‘journey’ is over, but it is the servants turning off the lantern, and he will have to suffer the whole night. At first, I thought this had religious undertones, but as the passage went on, it became evident that this was about the precariousness of the comfort we seek particularly pertaining to childhood. This is further elaborated with ‘we kept as little light as possible in the garden so as to not attract mosquitoes’ (p. 14), foreshadowing the minimal and conservative comfort the narrator will receive from his parents. With all of their dinners decorated with guests, the narrator longs for the kiss of his mom, but she wouldn’t be willing until they left. There is vivid visualization for the longing for her, the seeking of the comforts of childhood. He feels ‘the anguish comes from the feeling that the person you love is in a place of amusement where you are not’ (p. 30). Boy, does that hit like a truck! Although this is in reference to his parents, this is a feeling that all readers can resonate with in any given relationship. I feel like this speaks to how our relationship with our parents can affect all other and future relationships. Topping it off with ‘the greatest desire I had in the world, […], was too contrary to the necessities of life and the wishes of others for its fulfillment’ (p.43), I propose a question. Does our own comfort come at the cost of others. Is it right to seek such a comfort?

The introduction to Combray gave me one of my new favourite quotes about ‘the artist escapes the tyranny of time through art’. The quote talks about how our imagination and perception of the world affects our recreation of it. This is plays out on p.19 when the narrator talks about how well he remembers M. Swann’s face, ‘the act we call “seeing a person we know”‘. He talks about how others don’t see M. Swann as the same figure as him, illuminated with warmth, but rather his appearance is plagued with memories in their eyes. This speaks to the dynamism of relationships, the warmth of comfort from the kiss of his mom brighter than her coldness and distance. Again, what we choose to bring forward in recollection with time versus what we neglect to give prominence. Can we create our own realities through memories?

Week 1: Introductory Blog

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Hi there,

My name is Jada and I am a second year student intending to major in anthropology. I selected this course because I have a newfound interest in foreign literature, particularly Central and Eastern European works. I just finished reading ‘A Little Life’ and my mind keeps going back to this one excerpt wherein Andy is complaining about an acquaintance’s pronunciation of Proust. Willem says something along the lines of “well, you aren’t going to be sitting around discussing Proust with him.” Look where I am now!

I am excited for this course because, while I love reading, I love discussing and contextualizing literature. It is so helpful to hear the connections that other people have made. Discussions are quite productive for properly understanding a text and often times others make unique connections that I might not have otherwise understood.

One part of the lecture that stood out to me was the fact that there’s no geographical bounds for the Romance World. While this ‘world’ doesn’t exist, linguistic heritage can continue to connect these literary works. Historically, cultural artefacts are often territorially linked, however, with the help of modernism, romantic literature can be viewed as more geographically ambiguous.

Whilst these works are connected with their Latin language origins, vocabulary varies between their different language. My favourite part of reading is the perplexing ways in which words can evoke such sentiment. In this aspect, the ways in which the words are strung are just as important as the words themselves. My partner can speak 7 languages, mostly romantic, and while learning bits and pieces of these, I have learned words for feelings that we don’t have in the English language. A bit of a tangent that could become borderline philosophical, but this is a constant dilemma in my mind when reading translated works.

I am looking forward to the assessment structure as well as discussing these works with all of you!