Tag Archives: class

03/20/23

Week 10: Autobiographies as a Force for Change in I, Rigoberta Menhcu, Others

    Reading the shortest text that we have been assigned for this course, I cannot help but feel against its brevity that it was one of the most impactful. It tells a story from an unlikely origin, owing to the author’s differences in class and language compared to her readers. In this sense, I am reminded of several other works of literature written by minorities in the 18th century and which have since found a surging popularity in contemporary academia—from the works of Phillis Wheatley, utilising the elevated poetic language of modern society to question the morality of the Atlantic slave trade to the narrative of the former slave turned “freeman” Olaudah Equiano. Both authors utilise “white” language to liberate themselves through the model of the Enlightenment. For these similarities, the themes which runs throughout I, Rigoberta Menchu mentioned in the foreword that “Rigoberta learned the language of her oppressors in order to use it against them”  and “[w]ords are her only weapons”  strike me as especially powerful in the context of the postcolonial literatures (xxi, xxi). 

    Latin America provides an interesting lens to view the reach of colonialism and the differing ways it affected its inhabitants. Comparing this work to others I’ve studied, I noticed some key similarities, the first of which comes in the form of the author providing background as a way to humanise the “other,” thereby building sympathy with her white audience. From there Rigoberta goes on to describe her family and the hardships they must endure often in part due to their oppressors. 

    There is often an element of real world tragedy to connect to the oppressor as a means of change; this is represented in the death of Rigoberta’s brothers Felipe and Nicola, the first of which dies as a result of the oppressors spraying the coffee with pesticides wherein the author shares “my brother couldn’t stand the fumes and died of intoxication” (38). Additionally, the intimate nature of the medium of autobiography or account allows the distant reader to glimpse into a life beyond their own, thereby breaking down racial and class barriers which continue to oppress the “other.” Yet language can be beneficial as much as it can be a detriment. In the author’s encounter with those from different Guatemalan ethnic groups, she finds that “linguistic barriers prevent any dialogue between us Indians, between ourselves” (40). In my view, this mirrors the author’s dogged attempts to learn English as a means of writing as a story which is ubiquitous in its message, and her use of the captor’s language to introduce radical change. 

My question for the class is in what ways does the language of the autobiography articulate, but also hold captive, the stories authors try to tell? S

01/23/23

Week 3: The Link Between Intellect and Violence in The Underdogs

    It can be argued that several wars, if not most of them, have been started by intellectuals. Those few who hold the keys to power in literacy and prestige are often the greatest practicers of spearheading obstinate positions, stirring up the anger of the masses towards any persons viewed as the “enemy” and, above all, overthinking a problem which might otherwise be solved through pacifism rather than violent rebellion. A text on the forefront of literature from the Mexican Revolution, The Underdogs by Mariano Azuela, is very much a novel concerning this disillusionment from revolution after heavy losses brought on by years of fighting. It paints the intellectuals, or “sense-makers” as those whose over-idealised ideas of change and progress have resulted in devastation not only for others, but made them the architects of their own misery. In equal measure, Azuela’s narrative captures the animalistic brutality brought on by the common soldier manipulated by the demagogic rhetoric of his leaders. 

    Predominantly, the way the extremities of conflict affects the common soldier is captured through the breakdown of class and experience, homogenised during wartime. What might be considered the main character, Demetrio Macias, is a fugitive from the law who joins the conflict as a way to escape punishment, yet soon becomes an unlikely leader of this band of rebels. Because of his development in a more lower class oral culture, he orders his men to engage in book burning at one point in the novel, perhaps believing it to be the symbolic destruction of the literary world which has started the fighting and has always looked down on him. There is a certain joy he finds in this, and more generally, violence as well. “His famous marksmanship fills him with joy,” the text states near the end of the novel. If war does not lead to his physical demise, as it is implied by the end of the text, the comparison between a hollow as “the portico of an old cathedral” certainly symbolises a death of morality in the beast of a man. 

    A more nuanced view of war is taken by Luis Cervantes, who is able to read and write, and is described as more eloquent, inspiring and good for the troops. Yet he is also perhaps seen as part of the problem, another one of these “sense-makers” who have only come to elongate the conflict and inadvertently lead to further destruction. Although a strange pairing, wartime allows these two men to prosper through their ruthlessness and charisma respectively. It is only the way in which they view conflict, as well as embolden it, which differentiates them. 

    My question would be: Do you believe in the central premise that the minority of intellectuals in power are to blame for warfare? Or, more cynically, do you consider man’s devolution into violence inevitable? S

01/16/23

Week 2: A Bridging of Generations in Mama Blanca’s Memoirs

   Mama Blanca’s Memoirs, for all its intriguing subject matter on the loss of innocence and the advancement of culture, has the greatest effect on the reader when describing female relations as well as the contrasting attitudes of their generations. In the unlikely friendship–or perhaps guardianship–between an older woman “not yet seventy” and a young girl just a few years before turning “twelve,” there is an intergenerational connection, what I interpreted as a link between the old Victorian world and an emerging modern life which would see its fruition in the subsequent 20th century. Additionally, alongside an emerging modernism, the class strife endemic to the 19th century is touched upon through scenes such as the conflict of Blanca’s sisters; depictions of colonial hierarchies as shown through Piedra Azul’s servants; and most prominently, class is shown through differences in age and experience: the choice of the young girl in the relationship–really the stand-in for the author–to publish the memoir. 

    Nonetheless, I appreciated the look at Latin Victorian-era attitudes through an unbiased approach, refusing to take a stance on positives or negatives and simply stating how Mama Blanca behaved, a true memoir which does not seek to defame or exaggerate, only to remember. For instance, on their first meeting the older woman invites the girl in for cake, a traditional hospitality which seeks to present both females in stark contrast yet still connecting with a sense of shared kinship. The old woman is also described as an artist, perhaps as an intentional placement of Mama Blanca as an outsider and the catalyst for her decision to start a friendship with the girl. “As always, people based their judgment on outward appearances” the girl writes on the view of her relationship with a woman old enough to be her great-grandmother, accentuating the fact that the two are isolated together. I believe this relationship helps to illustrate how women are not only often persecuted by the standards of the times–such as in dress code, decorum and social standing–but also criticised by the women unwittingly upholding these discriminatory rules. It is only through a special, unique relationship such as Mama Blanca and the girl that one can find freedom in Latin America–and this plays into a sense of liberty which is undoubtedly a theme which will rear its head in future texts for this course. 

    Overall, I found the story to be well-written and a great start to the course. The ways in which the text captures Latin American lifestyles through a stand-in narrator while also touching on problems running parallel through the old days and contemporary times makes it more readable today. My question to the class would be at what points is Mama Blanca portrayed negatively in the text through her behaviour, and what points are positives? Additionally, are the positives always in line with contemporary thought and how we think today? S