RMST 495/520: Long Books

One of the main things I miss from home, from being in El Salvador close to my extended family, are the “tardes familiares de chambre de los domingos,” meaning, to an extent, the Sunday evenings of family gossip. But hear me out: I don’t feel that gossip is a good translation for “chambre.” From my biased perspective, chambre in some way carries more care, more truth, whatever that means.

Anyhow, reading Monje’s Justo Antes del Final has felt like a good replacement for my long-missed family chambre sessions. Sitting on the balcony of my grandma’s house, the life stories of my parents, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins, my grandparents, the neighbours, their childhood friends, the towns where they grew up, the country, and its politics created and added every time to this uneven or fragile family dough built in my mind. We… they could be talking about a high school friend who grew up and fell into drug consumption, or the times they escaped at night to go out dancing behind my grandpa’s back, or the ways they had to hide under their beds at night whenever a confrontation broke out between the guerrillas and the military during the twelve-year Salvadoran civil war.

Reading Monje feels like I am back on that balcony. This time, those sitting around me are not my family, but a weirdly similar bunch of people who share problems, dreams, and traumas similar to those I have been deciphering while looking back at those evenings as I grow older.

Now, back to Monje.

Monje does a great job showing the reader the harsh reality of what generational trauma feels like. However, he does it in a way that allows the reader to decide how to take in what they are reading. You can analyze the stories being told by his mother or his uncles and aunts from a satirical point of view, stories that you do not have to take too seriously, but they can also be approached as deeply emotional recollections, dramatic retellings, repetitive family narratives that show how trauma circulates across generations, lies?, or even frustrating stories that reveal how difficult it is for families to move beyond the past.

I guess this is because, similar to Los Detectives Salvajes, Monje too plays the role of a detective. As I mentioned before, he is kind of interviewing his family. However, here you can see the internal and external reactions to some of the stories that Monje collects. You either see the recollection of the past through Monje’s eyes or through your own. Sometimes those perspectives overlap.

Just to give you an idea of the types of conversations Monje is having with his family, here is a list of summarized stories:

• Monje’s “grandfather” dies in a driving accident. Some of the blame unjustly falls on Monje’s mother. After the accident everyone in the family changes (for good), except the middle brother of Monje’s mother.

• The middle brother threatens Monje’s mother with a gun. He disagrees with the type of hippie/progressive lifestyle she is living.

• Monje’s mother stops having several affairs with the intention of finding a stable relationship.

• Monje has been struck by lightning. He survives.

• Monje’s mother finds Monje’s elder half-brother trying to asphyxiate him when he was a baby.

All of these stories happen in different years, at different stages of the timeline that starts with the birth of Monje’s mother, as I mentioned in one of my first blogs.

From chapter XXXI (1978), the year Monje is born, he starts adding an extra section to each chapter. Memory now dances beyond the stories of his mother or her siblings and the general global recap of events of that specific year in time. He is now also remembering, along with his mother, what he can recall from that specific year of his life. He tries to recover any fleeting memory he holds at that time as a baby. For instance, how his mother looked at that time, what she was wearing, the color of her nail polish, and the smell of the pomade she used to heal her cesarean scar from her third child, Monje’s youngest sibling. In doing so, he falls into the trap of remembering lies that feel too real not to be true.

I can’t deny I have been trying really hard to see if I still remember some snippets of my early childhood. Surprisingly, I do. But similar to Monje, I am scared those could also be lies that I am telling myself, maybe half lies that I created based on pictures or stories that I heard during chambre sessions like those in my grandma’s balcony.

PS. When I say Monje’s family or Monje’s stories, I am referring to the fictional character of what we believe to be Monje’s author surrogate.

Cesárea Tinajero, why did Bolaño name the character like a C-section?

New perspectives, new povs, new insights into the story of the cult… Enriquez keeps pulling things out of nowhere. That is what baffles me. And not only in Enriquez but also on Bolaño, and almost every single book I’ve read: how the hell do they come up with so much stuff. Did it start from a scene? A daydreaming scene made in a train or a plane somewhere? Did it start from a dream, a terrifying nightmare that led to the images and descriptions of the grotesque Oscuridad in Enriquez? Was it necessity, as we have said about Bolaño, and an incredible exercise of forcing creativity to be able to eat at the end of the month? I think on my own practice of writing, one that fears novels and stays within poetry and the occasional short (very short though not the same as Monterroso) story and the idea of coming up with enough content to fill more than a few pages is intimidating to say the least, let alone content that is somewhat interesting to anyone. How do we write? How do we come up with stories worth telling? What even is a story worth telling? Who is telling us its worth?

The amount of content in the novels is not also daunting when seeing it as a mirror of our own writing experience, but as a scholar, researcher, whatever I am pretending to be as I do this program. There is just so much stuff. I love working with short stories. Poems are really hard to work with, novels are too much, short stories are the perfect middle ground for me. Can I treat Enriquez’s book as a short story? Forgo the plot, the happenings, the order of events, even the characters and their characterization, and focus on the language, the metaphors, the recurring themes and patterns in her language? Is that even something I want to do? See, when working with a short story I can usually summarize the plot in less than a paragraph; their characters, not having to deal with 800 pages of trauma, decisions, and change, are usually simple enough to deal with. In the last essay I wrote, which was about how sound works in a Monica Ojeda short story, I never dealt with the inner dynamics of the characters, I didn’t feel the need to do a psychoanalytical analysis of them. Here, however, it feels like a necessary step (maybe still skipping Freud and Jung) to have a real conversation between myself and the book that has, like its characters, haunted me.

As we walk we make our way

And turning our gaze to look back

We see the path that never 

Again shall we tread. 

This week’s poem is found transcribed from Juan Gabriel Vasquez’s novel Retrospective. It is written by Antonio Machado.

I am finally advancing on this novel! (In one day, I read six chapters, and have advanced towards 25% of the novel!)

After the first chapter, the novel goes back in time. This is a family saga. The Cabrera family is caught during Franco’s dictatorship in Spain. After many rejected protection from Latin American countries, the Dominican Republic accepts them as exile. Fausto Cabrera is young. They have a hard time in this country. Fausto’s uncle, Felipe establishes Caribbean Fisheries in the city. General Rafael Trujillo’s brother shows up and makes a deal: a “partnership”. It is extortion, for they are to give earnings to them and they get nothing in return. They cannot back up. It is dangerous. Eventually, the family goes near the Haitian border (they are given a plot of land by the Minister of Agriculture) to start cultivating peanuts for sale. During this time, Felipe goes to Venezuela. Fausto starts establishing his vocation. He is always reciting poems, introduces the Stanislavski method for acting to locals. But he’s unhappy. He finds a job at a pharmacy where he is eventually fired for stealing cod-liver pills for his family. (So much hunger!). So, Fausto saves up enough money to go to Venezuela. He frequents places where exiled Spaniards meet. He is always reciting poems. But here, he finds out his uncle moves to Colombia. And he does too. The family saga begins to unfold here. Locals start to take notice of him. Of his voice, of the poems he recites. Eventually, he is to meet Gaitan and interacts with him. Gaitan as a political leader gaining popularity. The people in the capital hear of the massacres of the countryside. And everyone is scared that what is happening in Spain, is going to happen in Colombia. Fausto meets Luz Elena (an aspiring poet). They begin courting each other. Eventually, Luz Elena gives birth to Sergio Cabrera and Marienella Cabrera. Technology arrives in Colombia. The government hires Cuban technicians to curate television programs for the people. The war breaks out in Colombia.

Luz Elena and Fausto create programs. For instance: in one program Fausto recites poetry on live TV as a painter draws on a canvas. Enter Sergio. He plays a role as a child informant during the Nazi regime. As Sergio grows up (he is only 11 years old, c’mon!), he starts picking up bad habits: smoking cigarettes, stealing hood ornaments, skipping classes. He is sent to a boarding school. And Fausto begins to cheat on Luz Elena, so she takes Marienella to Medellin. Their marriage goes sour. Then an opportunity arrives: the Chinese government is hiring Foreign Language Teachers to dub films, teach languages. Moreover, Fausto is able to convince his family. But they are not to say anything, for China is an enemy nation, it is a communist nation. In China, they are given a good stipend, and stay in a luxurious hotel. Other language teachers are from Uruguay and other Latin American countries, so Sergio and Marienella start making friends. And they start taking Mandarin (or Cantonese…? the text does not specify) lessons. Though, this is a luxurious “Hotel”, on their outings, they experience cultural shock. For instance, a kid calls Sergio a “foreign demon” which upsets him. The kids express wanting to go back to Colombia (although they are living a life of luxury in China). Fausto explains they will stay there for many years, so better get used to it.

—

So, the novel is interesting! It is engaging with its exposition style. The translation, at least (for I am not reading it is its original Spanish prose). Many poems are transcribed. Also, my favourite part, Fausto is able to get recognition is early stages of career as he exploits one memory: of poet Garcia Lorca visiting family and kissing him on the cheek. Fausto exaggerates saying he is a disciple of Lorca. I am excited. I wonder where it will lead next. It is rich in historical context! After all, it is a biographical novel.

The Part About Fate is the third part out of five for 2666 yet page-wise, we’re not even halfway done (not for another ~100 pages at least). Something I want to mention first is that originally I had thought The Part About Fate referred to “fate” in the literal sense (like destiny) but several weeks ago when I was talking with Professor Beasley-Murray who’s reading the Spanish version it’s titled as “La parte de Fate.” “Fate” is actually the last name of this part’s central character… well, technically not, Oscar Fate’s real name is Quincy Williams but for some reason everybody at his work calls him Oscar Fate and that’s how he’s referred to in this part. Anyways, I found it interesting that in the Spanish version it’s clear the title isn’t referring to destiny, but not so much in the English version (upon writing this maybe I’m realizing it’s not so interesting, hey it’s my blog though). This made me wonder why Bolaño decided to name his character “Fate” because I’m guessing he knew it was an English word (though maybe not). Speaking of Bolaño’s character names, last week the professor mentioned a name resembling Amalfitano in The Savage Detectives, but in 2666 the name Ulises is also mentioned (page 259 for reference) and García as well (page 274 for reference). So maybe Bolaño just likes certain names and will use it multiple times across works? Heck, Óscar is actually the name of this part and the previous part’s central character (albeit only one of them with an accent on the O)! There are also two characters named Rosa in this part (one of whom we’ve already met in The Part about Amalfitano), and sometimes I wonder why authors would ever choose to have two separate characters share the same name? It sometimes adds confusion in real life, but there’s nothing to be done about that, no shame to our Davids Authors can actively choose their characters’ names though, so why would they name them the same? If I were an author I’d probably just name my characters after people I know in real life, how would you guys name your characters (no, this is not my official discussion question this week, I haven’t even gotten into the reading)? I digress…

Okay, back to The Part About Fate, which I quite enjoyed. To give a very brief summary (or at least my best try for very brief), this part follows Oscar Fate, an American journalist who normally covers politics but is sent to Santa Teresa to cover a boxing match (there’s a part a bit before about Oscar Fate interviewing a former Black Panther but I didn’t find it of much importance or interest). And that’s right, he’s going to Santa Tersa, the same Santa Teresa where all our parts converge and hundreds of women are killed mysteriously. Anyways, once in Mexico, he ends up meeting a Mexican journalist (Chucho Flores), a film fanatic (Charly Cruz), Rosa Amalfitano from the second part whom Oscar Fate develops some romantic attraction towards (I don’t recall exactly how old she is from the second part, but I recall her being a teenager, which raised some eyebrows), Rosa Mendez, a friend of the aforementioned characters, and Guadalupe Roncal, another journalist who is covering the mysterious murders (he meets other characters but these are the ones of most relevance). Initially focused on the task at hand of covering the boxing match, Oscar Fate notices several mentions of the murders in Santa Teresa throughout this part and believes them to be much more worthwhile to report on than the silly boxing match. Sadly, his request to stay longer to cover the murders is rejected. However, he arranges with Guadalupe to meet one of the main suspects for the murders in prison after the boxing match. The actual boxing match is laughably short and uneventful, but the following night eventually leads Oscar Fate giving a savage uppercut to another character and kind of going on the run with Rosa Amalfitano. Oscar Fate meets Óscar Amalfitano, who asks him to send his daughter back to Spain. This part concludes with sort of fractured snippets of Oscar Fate and Rosa having crossed the border, and of Oscar Fate, Rosa, and Guadalupe just meeting the very tall, intimidating, murder suspect (who speaks German… curious).

What I really liked about this part in particular is that we finally seem to be “going somewhere.” In part I, the murders seem like a background detail, no more than a brief mention or a news report. In part II, we get more mentions of the murders and we can sort of see how it affects one of our characters, Amalfitano. Now in part III though, it finally seems like things are about to come to fruition, with everything finally building up to the legendary part IV, The Part About the Crimes. Although, it’s not just the fact that we’re building up, it’s also how we built up that I really enjoyed. All throughout part III, the mentions are littered everywhere, not in secret, I mean, they’re very clearly explicitly talked about, but the way they keep getting repeatedly mentioned feels like a balloon being pumped up more and more, about to burst. Here are the several mentions of the murders that I noted down in order:

“While Fate was sleeping, there was a report on an American who had disappeared in Santa Teresa…long list of women killed in Santa Teresa, many of whom ended up in the common grave at the cemetery because no one claimed their bodies.” (258)

“‘I’m a reporter,’ he said. ‘You’re going to write about the crimes,’ said the cook. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about…'” (268)

“The customs officer asked if he was coming to write about the killings. ‘No,’ said Fate, ‘I’m going to cover the fight on Saturday.’ ‘What fight?'” (271)

“‘What the hell were they talking about?’…’About the women who’ve been killed…Every so often the numbers go up and it’s news again and the reporters talk about it. People talk about it too, and the story grows like a snowball until the sun comes out and the whole damn ball melts and everybody forgets about it and goes back to work.” (285-286)

“‘Fear of everything. When you work on something that involves the killings of women in Santa Teresa, you end up scared of everything. Scared you’ll be beaten up. Scared of being kidnapped. Scared of torture…'” (296)

After that basically the elephant’s been addressed and I’m assuming in part IV we’ll really get to learn about the details of these mysterious murders. The ending really piqued my interest because the sequence of weaving together Oscar Fate and Rosa’s departure from Santa Teresa and their visit to the prison created some kind of harrowing atmosphere. In my mind, I could imagine the scenes cutting back and forth as if they were shown in a movie. The abrupt ending, with the reveal of the enormous, very blond suspect made me want to immediately jump into the next part to learn more (hold on though this blog post is just about The Part about Fate)! Speaking of learning more, even with all the buildup, we still haven’t really gotten much info about these murders beyond the fact that several hundred women have been killed over the span of multiple years, nothing about how they were killed or if there’s one murderer or several.

Anyhow, as for my official discussion question this week, going back to this part’s title, The Part About Fate, I wanted to ask “Does the title of your book influence your reading? How about titles of specific chapters? How much trust should we even put in titles to tell us what the book is actually about?” To be completely honest, I haven’t really made much sense of either the title of The Savage Detectives or 2666, but I believe that could change by the end, as seen in Amulet. What are we, some kind of savage detective? (Get it? It’s like the meme of “what are we, some kind of suicide squad?” Never mind then…) I’ll see myself out now…

P.S. I mentioned earlier that the actual boxing match was laughably short and I really meant it. Here it is in its entirety: “The fight was short. First Count Pickett came out. Polite applause, some boos. Then Merolino Fernandez came out. Thundering applause. In the first round, they sized each other up. In the second, Pickett went on the offensive and knocked his opponent out in less than a minute. Merolino Fernandez’s body didn’t even move where it lay on the canvas. His seconds hauled him into his corner and when he didn’t recover the medics came in and took him off to the hospital. Count Pickett raised an arm, without much enthusiasm, and left surrounded by his people. The fans began to empty out of the arena.” (312) I find it especially funny because Bolaño will spend countless time on crafting these shorter stories within his books (including the buildup to the boxing match), yet for the actual boxing match, the reason for Oscar Fate came down to Santa Teresa, he only writes one measly paragraph. I understand that the reason why Oscar Fate initially goes down to Santa Teresa isn’t meant to be important or of any relevance, but I find it funny nonetheless.

Hello everybody!!

And now i am back to one of my favourite characters.. Don Quixote. I missed him , i am not gonnna lie!
During these chapters , delusion is a big theme as our protagonist is so involved in being a honorable knight and help others who need him. Even confuses normal objects with legendary helmets in a scene where he thinkgs he accomplished a victory but in the end , he was just fighting with a barber.

Don quixote believes that his values ( justice , gratitude) should be practiced on a daily basis thats why he frees random people from chains because he doesnt feel anybody should live like this. He gets betrayed and hit by rocks in the end…

These momments make me wonder that if we all were a bit delusional like him .. will we create a better world than the one we live in? what would be different? what values would we cherish the most? His delusion is based on the ideology of bravery ,honorable actions , helping others… thats not bad at all. Maybe the author is telling us that even though people mock you for your values , you should not change them because the problem is not you… ITS THEM.
Maybe this is one of the moral points of the novel … the people around us have no discipline / values ( Sancho is kind of a coward sometimes and also lazy) and the people with a psychological delusion carry a better vision of themselves and what they want to project in society.

Now i also came to realize for the first time , that our protagonist is a performer more than just a crazy guy.He is trully commited to the books that he read before. He admitted that his madness is intentional ( and if you call him crazy , its ok with him )because he has a goal to accomplish ( dulcinea) and this imitation of brave knights is necessary to imppress her. So , if Dulcinea responds to him .. will the madness end? He might have fooled everyone all this time. I feel like Sancho ( a guy who is not a good fit to be his protector) represents what we think Don Quixote or reactions to his “madness”.

One good line is ” The actions that i do are not joke , They are truthful”.. good for him and the world he wants to live in.

Discussion question :

Can the power of imagination give meaning to your life?

Part 3. Les guerriers de l’hiver. After two weeks of writing blog posts about Bolaño, as well as the mid-term break that took place between those two weeks, I was very much looking forward to continuing reading this novel. I had been wanting to resume reading it for the past month! As of the moment when I finished writing my blog post about it on February 4^th, I just wanted to keep going. As expected, I held back because I had more immediate reading and schoolwork to attend to. I waited patiently until this past week. But to tell you the truth, I was somewhat underwhelmed by the portion of the novel that I read this week. One of the reasons for this disappointment is because certain characters that we were following, such as Azarov, haven’t reappeared since the first part that I read. I was hoping that the narrative would continue to follow the stories of the various characters that were introduced in the first 100 pages. Several of them have reappeared, but others haven’t. Out of all the characters introduced in the first part, Leena’s story had been the most captivating for me. She appeared to be bold, defiant and fearless. I was inspired by her courage. I even started searching online to learn more about the history of the Lotta Svärd (the Finnish women’s paramilitary organization), as I expected the narrative to shift its focus back to Leena’s perspective soon. However, she has only reappeared twice, and in both of those instances, I got the impression that she had been reduced to a minor character, even though she appeared to be one of the more central characters at the start of the novel. When she finally appeared for the second time, it was at an outdoor party, where Finnish servicemen and members of the Lotta Svärd were gathered together to have the opportunity to meet each other and dance together. However, her appearance was rather brief, as the narrative focused more on the perspectives and experiences of the Finnish servicemen. One of Simo Häyhä’s best friends, Toivo, danced with Leena that night. They both started having feelings for each other. A cute love story. However, I wanted to read more from Leena’s perspective and she didn’t reappear until over 100 pages later. At this point, I’m starting to worry that her character simply serves the purpose of being the love interest of one of the male characters, Toivo, whose story we actually continue to follow throughout the novel. When she finally appears again, over 100 pages later, it is when Toivo visits her. But as soon as he leaves, we are back to following the perspectives of the men in the novel. Now I understand that war is typically a man’s game. And for this reason, I’d expect male characters to be the main focus of the novel. The book was also written by a man, and so I wasn’t expecting it to have a feminist theme, but I was hoping it would feature at least one strong female character. One who isn’t just a love interest. One who isn’t just an accessory. One whose role goes beyond being a part of the side story of a male character. I was hoping for something more. After this compelling young woman is introduced to us, I was excited to be able to read about a woman’s experience in the war. She was assigned to the infirmary, but up until now, I’ve only had the opportunity to read a page or two about her experience in that position. And even though I’m still hoping that it’ll happen eventually, I’m not counting on it anymore.

I know this blog post has been so narrowly focused on this one aspect of the novel that I found disappointing, but it does sum up how I felt while reading this third part, as well as after I put the book down. It made me even more appreciative of the diverse perspectives featured in Roberto Bolaño’s two novels, especially since he doesn’t shy away from strong female characters (Auxilio has by far been my favourite). I often find myself comparing Bolaño’s novels to Les guerriers de l’hiver, which is natural, since I’m reading these books for the same class and writing blog posts on them. But I can’t expect Norek to be Bolaño, or vice versa. With all that being said, when I resume my reading of Les guerriers de l’hiver in a week from now, I will have to shift my expectations.

Here are my questions for the class: Up until now, has the novel that you chose to read for this class met or exceeded your expectations? Is there any aspect of your book that has been disappointing?