I, Rigoberta Menchu

As the first non-fiction novel of the list of texts, “I, Rigoberta Menchu” stands out greatly, and has been one of the more challenging reads so far in terms of the content that makes it upsetting to ruminate upon.

This novel recounts the life story of Rigoberta, and divides sections of the chapters based around themes that she has spoken about with an authoethnographer. I find that there are strengths and weaknesses in grouping the information this way. With each chapter surrounding a theme, the impact and narration is so focused that you can’t help but be absorbed in the story. As the audience, this way of telling the story was incredibly immerseful into the life of Rigoberta. The inclusion of her culture’s customs alongside her experiences with exploitation and activism provides solid building blocks into understanding the development of her political consciousness. Understanding the wisdom Rigoberta has learned from her experience allowed me to understand the depth of her activism, which culturally often time seems like an ignited emotional response at mistreatment (deservingly, obviously) and demands the perpetrators to be punished. However, with Rigoberta’s testimony, activism takes a much different perspective, in the form of growth, and a bridging of worldviews that is necessary to undergo change, such as the beginning when she explains how she learned Spanish for herself, or finding solace in the stories of the Bible. These approaches appear much more holistic and intimate to the personal journeys of the activists, and I think it also commends their journeys and growth in a significantly profound way, that takes into account the nuances of their situation. I agree wholeheartedly with the authoethnographer’s praise about Rigoberta’s bravery, because being self-conscious to the degree that Rigoberta is about her mental development through all these experiences is incredibly hard.

On the other hand, because each chapter is heavily centred on a theme, certain issues pertaining to earlier chapters were suddenly gone in later chapters. For example, in earlier chapters all members of Rigoberta’s family would be breaking their backs working just to get an abysmally small pay at the end of the day and suffer malnutrition and hunger, but this issue with income wasn’t consistent in later stories when Rigoberta would travel to other villages and teach them self defence, where making an income and finding food didn’t seem to be a prevalent concern anymore. I think having the narration be organized and carried out like this somewhat contributes to the feeling that Rigoberta’s testimonies may be doubtful, beyond the fact checking done to her background. But much like Jon said, the malleability of her story does reveal the agency she has, especially with her expertise in secret-keeping.

Lastly my question is: After hearing about the contradiction between Rigoberta’s account and the people who looked into the background of Rigoberta, how has the feelings towards her story changed for you? Do you believe her, and what is you take away from the novel now that this has come to light?

On the topic of love and loss, and ultimately, being a man.

This post is a reflection of the poetry collection by Neruda, titled “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair”.  Normally, I’m not a big reader of poetry, which is to say that I don’t have the aptitude to appreciate poetry as much as another person who really enjoys literature and poems, but I do tend to appreciate what I do come across.

To dive into my thoughts for this book, I can sort of summarize my thoughts in one sentence:

He is more passionate about him being passionate than he is passionate about her.

Reading his poems reminded me of a quote that said something along the lines of: if a man wrote a poem for her he loves her, and if he wrote multiple poems for her- he loves poems. I think this doesn’t necessarily take away form the quality or intimacy / vulnerability of the poems that make it beautiful, but I would hesitate to accept its title as the gospel for hopeless romantics, because that means hopeless romantics are more in love with the idea of being in love as opposed to the motions of loving another human being. Although that can very much be the case. I don’t think of myself as a hopeless romantic so I cannot really speak on that.

I think my initial thoughts connect to the lecture very well too, since the feeling I got from this book is that he loves so that he can write. Which fulfills his purpose as a writer, as described in the 20th poem, where he opens with “Tonight I can write the saddest lines.” (pg.70), in acknowledgement of his desire to turn this love into craft, and as that love ends, he understands that these poems contain “the last verses that I write for her” (pg.78), where the potential or material for writing more poems dies as this love comes to a close.

Personally, I think the “problematic” aspects of his poetry doesn’t require multiple reads to notice, especially coming from a female’s perspective. The more notable thing in my opinion, is that this is something I notice often in male writers and the undertone of their work. Notable examples can range from people that are popular now, such as Haruki Murakami, or even the last author Azuela who wrote The Underdogs which had sorrowful depictions of female characters, from Camilia to War Paint.

To recycle Neruda’s own words: Love (from these mens perspective) is so short, forgetting (their sexism tinged work) is so long. Because they always end up being writers worth looking at.

To close, my question to you all is, Which poem out of the 20 was your favourite, or contained the most memorable quote for you, and why is it particularly significant to you?

Welcome – an introduction

My name is Kelly and I am a second year student planning to major in economics and political science. I really enjoy reading in my spare time, although my Want to Read list is always outpacing my Read list and I never end up reading as much as I want. So hopefully, this course can remedy this to some extent as now I get to read and have it be part of my academics!

Along with being able to read more books, I hope to be exposed to different kinds of literature, both across their contextual backgrounds, as well as different writing styles and stories. More personally, I’m excited to encounter different kinds of characters within these novels and get to know them better over the course. For the readings themselves, I did expect to encounter magical realism some way or another, merely because I have read a book for high school by Gabriel Garcia Marquez titled The chronicle of a death foretold, who also happens to be the author of One Hundred Years of Solitude. Personally I did not enjoy (oops) reading this book, especially because of the use of magical realism, so I am quite reassured after watching the lecture video that seemed to steer focus away from that. 

When thinking about Latin American literature, I tend to first think of its history of colonization and its many revolutions and conflicts that inevitably trickle into the daily lives of the people, even removed from its direct impacts on livelihoods. These include things like religion, or living environment or just overall cultural attitudes that develop depending on the happenings within the region. My other preconceived notion of Latin American literature is based on more recent books I have read, one being The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by the Argentinian author Mariana Enriquez, as well as The Bread the Devil Knead by Lisa Allen-Agostini which has the story set in the Caribbean (both books are quite interesting reads if you’re interested). Both these novels are published much more recently, and have somewhat given me the impression of an unfamiliar gender attitude that I still have trouble figuring out the nuances of today, especially in recognition of my own Western understanding of gender. I have a feeling that this theme might carry through into some other books in this course, and I am especially keeping an eye on that one story about prostitutes in the special service. 

From this course with all of its diverse selection of books, I hope to understand all of the identities represented within these books better, and gain a new found understanding of Latin American literature, or maybe a new understanding that deconstructs the box of Latin American literature entirely. 

To conclude, my question to whoever reads this is: which book are you all the most excited to start reading and why?

I look forward to reading the comments!

Until next time, 

Kelly



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