Faces in the Crowd

“Faces in the Crowd” by Valeria Luiselli was definitely not an ordinary novel. Its complex style of writing made it very hard to find meaning through the novel, which made me kind of sad because this is the last reading and I was expecting a lot from it. Luiselli deftly weaves a fragmented and profound narrative, exploring themes of identity and time. There is no doubt that we all encountered a dizzy array of stories within stories, where past and present and facts and fiction blurred as we navigated through the pages of this novel.

Although the novel has multiple narratives, it primarily focuses on a woman who is writing a novel whilst researching a Mexican poet named Gilberto Owen. She soon starts unhealthily obsessing over the life of the poet. The novel soon fluidly shifts with the introduction of Owen, where his narrative runs parallel to the woman’s own, creating a dual perspective that progressively switches between paragraphs, with stars (⭐) separating them. This chaotic style of narration made it difficult for me to follow the plot, and I had to flip back and forth between the reading to understand the novel’s perspectives.

I saw the woman’s obsession with Gilberto Owen as a coping mechanism that allowed her to reconcile the disparate parts of her identity. Living in the present, which feels increasingly disconnected from her vibrant past as a young woman in New York to the mature, grounded woman with familial responsibilities in Mexico constrained by the roles of a stereotypical woman in a patriarchal society, I feel she turns to Owen as a means of escape and connection. I feel Owen’s story became a vessel for her own unvoiced desires and frustrations, for she finds comfort in the parallels between both their struggles in recognition of their writing. This obsession serves as a way to cope with the invisibility she feels in her own life. It allows her to assert her identity in the face of societal expectations, using her connection with Owen to navigate the complexities of her own existence, and she is able (or rather feels that she is able) to establish her place in the world.

To conclude, the book embraces its own intricacy, turning uncertainty into an asset for exploration rather than a barrier. It invites us readers to accept the disorientation, make sense of the fragmented narrative, and view the world through the spectral reflections of its characters. Under Luiselli’s direction, the book develops into an in-depth reflection on the nature of humanity, a kaleidoscope of lives that converge and diverge in the tangled spaces of memory and imagination.

Question: What do you think obsessing over the poet symbolized?

The Coat.

‘The Trenchcoat’ by Norman Manae, a part of the collection “Compulsory Happiness,”  is set in Bucharest during the stirring history of the haunting truths of Romania’s last years under communist rule. At first, I thought the novel was one of the most peculiar, vague pieces of literature I had ever read. I do not think that that opinion might have changed after listening to the lecture, but a lot of things in the novel now make sense. Through the lens of an unassuming, mysterious item—a raincoat, trench coat, or overcoat—the story unfolds in a landscape marked by monotony, surveillance, and the nuanced struggle for identity and autonomy against the backdrop of a dictatorial regime. Manea’s work, especially the complex, interactive interplay of power, boredom, and the presence of the state’s watchful eyes, offers a compelling exploration of life under a repressive government, where even the most mundane objects become symbols of resistance, conformity, or despair.

The novella follows two couples en route to a dinner hosted by another more formal and wealthy couple, their anticipation is tinged more with anxiety and disinterest than excitement, despite the privileges and luxury awaiting them. The scene later cuts to the next day, when an unexpected appearance of a trenchcoat at the guests’ house plungs the story into a maze that culminates in surprising and shocking discoveries. Thus, in the narrative, the trenchcoat transcends its ordinary role. While typically a commonplace item, within the novel, it becomes a beacon of mystery and intrigue.

To be honest, the novel left me hanging. I spent a lot of time on this piece of literature, and I feel like I just ran through the novel because of how confused it left me. However, I do want to talk about what the raincoat means to me. Much like raincoats, which serve the purpose of protection against the rain, kind of like a cover to protect oneself. The raincoat in this novel unfolds symbolically, a myriad of mysteries in the context of Dina and Brazil’s lives. One of which might be that their wealth and status afford them a protective layer, much like the raincoat, against the systemic oppressions and scarcity that plague their country. However, the symbolism of the raincoat in relation to Dina and Brazil extends far beyond a mere shield from physical elements; it represents the nuanced ways in which the elite navigate the treacherous waters of political and social conformity to maintain their position and safety. For example, Comrade Vasile uses his house as a means to hold certain kinds of confidential meetings.

Nonetheless, it is genuinely astonishing how the author expertly navigated the limits of censorship to offer a vivid portrait of life under a dictatorial regime, emphasizing the intricacies of state surveillance. Initially, the unusual writing style appeared to me as strange, but it perfectly depicts the complexity and subtleties of an oppressive system.

Question: What is the significance behind the nameless character, the Learned One, The Kid, etc., being shrouded in such mystery, and how does this contribute to the narrative, especially considering his eventual connection with Lady Di?

Spam prevention powered by Akismet