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Another Conclusion

I must say it felt like yesterday when I first looked at my Semester 2 timetable and wondered why romance studies takes place in the math building (as well as trying to find it, confusing the mathematics annex for the math building, and nearly being late for the first class because I’m bad with directions).

I still am, to this day. But enough about that.

I also remember being confused with the concept of “contract grading” since I was expecting RMST 202 to follow a similar structure to RMST 201. It was certainly unique compared to the other classes I had, especially since we get to pick out the books we want to read as well as the grade we want for our report card.

Naturally, that would mean a lot of us would gun for As and A+s, right?

Regardless, I still heavily enjoyed the course and the wide selection of texts that was available.

If I have to pick out a favorite book, I suppose it would have to come down to two choices: “If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler” and “My Brilliant Friend.” The first one because I’ve found the different types of reading styles to be interesting to note (also because I personally interpret the author as trying to start on many creative writing projects but unable to finish any of them so he decided to combine them all into one book). And the second one partially because I’ve already read it before, and it is one of my favorite series to read because of how nuanced everything is – not to mention the complex friendship that Elena and Lila share with each other.

And I wasn’t too fond of books that heavily focused on romance (to state some examples: the second half of “Death with Interruptions” and “The Lover”). But I can mostly attribute that to not being interested in romantic relationship-centered plots in general since the genre never quite appealed to me.

Thank you so much Professor for creating various forms of lecture videos so we could follow along (I really enjoyed reading the transcripts and drink pairings as well as your reasonings for why the drink and the book should go together). And thanks TAs Daniel and Tesi for reading our blog posts! Also, thank to everyone who’s commented on my blog posts – your follow-up thoughts had certainly given me a lot of food for thought post-reading!

Throughout the semester, what was your favorite book you read and why?

Constant Comparisons (My Brilliant Friend)

I remember being very happy when I first saw the book on the list of readings for this class. For one, this is one of my favorite books as far as I could remember. I had read this entire series at an earlier time, when I was looking into book recommendations so I could learn how to illustrate compelling friendships in my own writing. The characters are genuinely written with a ton of nuance, and I really adored reading about how Lenù and Lila’s friendship developed from childhood and how much complexity it has. I also remember feeling completely lost when I got to the final page of the fourth book, because there were a lot of topics that Lenù had never quite resolved that I would have liked answers to. It felt like I was reading into the lives of actual people instead of an actual book I could relax with (especially since I could see myself and a close friend of mine in their roles).

There’s a lot I really want to say about this series as a whole… but we are only focusing on the first book of the series. If I had to keep that to two words, it would be: screw Nino. He did not deserve the relatively happy ending he got (I know that the book’s subreddit would agree with me as they love to heavily roast him).

On the subject of the first book, Lenù genuinely has amazing ambitions in life driven by the urge to compete with her friend, which resulted in a series of impressive moments and achievements for her that directed her character growth.

…Like that time when her brilliant friend taught herself to read and write at 7.

…Or that time when her brilliant friend was deemed to be the star student of the class by their elementary teacher.

…Or that time when her brilliant friend is deemed to be more physically attractive than she is in their adolescence and captured the attention of many guys.

…Or that time when her brilliant friend won an award for borrowing many books from a local library.

Those moments were all important to her, weren’t they?

At this rate, Lenù would never ever have to wear sunscreen in her life because of the shadow she thinks she lives in.

…Moving on.

Though I’ll have to give credit where it’s due. The constant competition between the two has pushed each other to be better in language, reading, and writing (which we can see when they chose to buy a copy of Little Women with Don Achille’s money instead of using it on dolls – as well as academically be the best in class. As they grow up together, they make sometimes unorthodox yet meaningful decisions driven by their desire to impress each other (such as the time when Lenù stoically throws Lila’s doll). It was interesting to note that they always felt second-best to each other since Lila envies Lenù’s chance for further education, and Lenù practically breathes for Lila’s praise. And it is ultimately hard to deny that their friendship proves to drive the major decisions in their life through competition and their strong dependence on each other. It’s just very unfortunate that their paths had to diverge due to financial situations on Lila’s end.

So what are your thoughts on the friendship between Lenù and Lila? Have you ever had a friendship like that?

What is Life without Death? (Death with Interruptions)

José Saramago’s “Death with Interruptions” has to be one of the most philosophical books I’ve ever read regarding the concept of death and its importance.

Now the book was split into two sections: with the first part exploring all the potential political, social, and economical consequences in society should death take a temporary holiday – and the second part detailing a personification of death itself as a beautiful woman who falls in love for a cellist who just doesn’t die.

Now, if no one died, their reaction would be joy, with people feeling like they have just escaped the biggest fear of their lives. If death was gone, wouldn’t that mean eternal paradise for people?

However, as the author describes, immortality is not equivalent to eternal youth. In other words, society would have many people suspended on the edge of dying, begging for their suffering to just end already.

It’s not just the funeral workers that are out of jobs – religion also becomes meaningless in their case since its greatest reward (eternal life) has already happened to everyone. Saramago also explains how this also practically ruins the economy (healthcare workers would be very overworked, for one) and brings about the maphia (a business that transports undying corpses outside of the country so they can die there since death hasn’t stopped working in literally every other part of the world).

After all the chaos that happens, death ends her social experiment and makes the choice to mail violet stationery to people who will die in a week so they can take the time to prepare themselves… which is an interesting idea. But would it really be any better for them? Regardless, it still imparts the message to society that death is absolutely necessary to life.

Ultimately, people fear death because they fear for what happens after it.

It is because we die that our lives have meaning in the first place.

When you think about it, you can not succeed at anything if there are infinitely more opportunities to succeed.

And you can never be happy if your life continues indefinitely without purpose.

Now, imagine no work of art was ever finished. Imagine that there are never any borders, boundaries, or frames to signal completion. Imagine that because nothing was ever final, that there are no places to hang up and admire completed work. Without the pressure from time making every color, word, or note a possibly final precious element of their masterpiece – the artist would never feel that creative spark or sense of urgency to tell the world of their vision that led to such beautiful pieces in the first place.

Personally, this is the importance of death I see in our existence. While Saramago in his book covers the societal disadvantages an absence of death impose, there are mental and individual factors that should also be acknowledged.

While I may not know the answer to what constitutes a “meaningful” life, I like to say that our limits to life creates a definition to what is beautiful. And to specify, one that is a completed beauty.

Death is permanent, but it is never without mercy or meaning.

So how would you define the meaning of death? What other consequences regarding the absence of death do you think would happen to society apart from reasons the author already listed?

Morals Against Money (Plata Quemada)

The first thought I literally had upon picking up this book was “hey. We’ve got the first coming of age novel in a long while!” Then I started reading Plata Quemada (written by Ricardo Piglia), and quickly realized that this has to be one of the most action-packed books I’ve ever read.

To summarize, this story starts with a bank robbery in Buenos Aires full of action and ends with a shootout between cocaine-fuelled bandits and hundreds of policemen in Uruguay. Oh, did I mention cocaine here? The robbers had taken the cocaine before and during the heist while gunning down bank tellers, guards, police, and innocent pedestrians before making their getaway. So this is already setting up for us to know that we are not looking from the perspective of an innocent human this time.

The language and writing is very dense and a little hard to understand at times, but it was very interesting to see how Brignone and Dorda’s relationship developed over time.
And yet, I found the characters easy to root for despite their questionable morals (especially since they are in love with each other and struggle with internalized homophobia). It was also worth noting that this had taken me back to my initial reading of “El Juguete Rabioso” (Arlt), which was an earlier reading done many weeks ago at this point. The viewpoint character was also morally grey considering his involvement in thievery and jaded experiences while growing up.

Upon becoming aware of the fact that the plot was based off of a crime that actually happened in real life, I remember immediately immediately going into a deep rabbit hole online reading articles that talked about the robbery this book was inspired by.

The point where the robbers start burning the money also stood out to me, since this is the point where they believed if they can’t keep the money, then no one can. This causes the crowd’s opinion to completely turn against them, unwilling to watch the prospect of thousands of dollars being destroyed right before their very eyes. If the money was the sole reason for all the murders they had done, and if the money they did the murders for was burning in front of them, then the characters had to be viewed as completely unredeemable.

Yet, the concept of money is neutral in all of this. Its symbolism only depends on how it’s utilized in the first place.

…When did we as a society start prioritizing money over the value of a human life? And what should truly be held more in value: money or morals? And how do you interpret the meaning of money in this novel?

Why did I subject myself to this. (The Lover)

I like to say that I have read plenty of horrible romance stories in my lifetime, and have seen plenty of interesting (read: “disturbing”) tropes regarding relationships in the process. So when I received a content warning regarding this book, I simply brushed it aside thinking that it wouldn’t be too bad on my end.

For reference, I have survived reading the Twilight series, “After Forever”, briefly looking over the accursed, satirical coronavirus romance trilogy, and having to glimpse over more unhinged premises of books I would love to unread.

Admittedly, “The Lover” (Marguerite Duras) isn’t as bad as the examples I had listed above. But it still has some elements that some people would not be okay with as a plot point (namely a romantic relationship between 2 people with very different ages).

So imagine if Lolita was autobiographical and was written from the perspective of the titular character.

That’s pretty much the premise of this book.

But while both relationships are absolutely inappropriate, but a girl in her mid-teens (and especially when it is told through her perspective) is going to be read a lot differently compared to a book written through the predator’s perspective about a pre-teen girl.

And in the case of Duras’s novel, she at least desires her rich Chinese partner, she has some agency in what is happening, even though her hand is forced by the abuse in her family (which is such a typical unfortunate situation in real life as well — to simply swap one form of abuse for another). So her relationship is also a story of abuse.

Duras makes it clear that as a young girl, she felt forced by necessity to become involved with an older man in order to survive based on several factors. Her family was incredibly poor. Her mentally unsound mother forbade the relationship. But the lover was generous, and their family desperately needed the money. Then, she screams at her daughter and beat her (with the lover being a way to escape her pain).

This is not just an average love story, or an average story about the tragedies of poverty, or a story about how the loved ones in her life mistreated her. She just wants to write down what happened and make peace with it. The result is something that is unexpectedly beautiful and meaningful.

After all, there’s genuinely nothing wrong with a person recounting their truth in light of their experiences.

What exactly does it mean to love a person? Do you think it is true romantic love if one gets into a relationship based on a financial necessity?

The Most Complete Incomplete Work I’ve Ever Read (If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller)

You are now reading a blog post of “If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller” written by Italo Calvino. Now’s the time to chill without any distractions. Focus. Clear your mind to the best of your abilities, and perhaps find a place where you can read in peace and quiet. And prepare to reply to this after writing your 400-500 word blog post about the same book earlier. Either you went to the UBC bookstore to get a copy of this or you have chosen to open up the pdf file on the RMST 202 website. Or you managed to find a very detailed summary somewhere on the web. Regardless, you feel ready to talk about this piece of literature with other readers.

You initially understand the contents of this blog post, but as it delves into the deeper analyses of the books as well as how all fragments connect to an author’s perspective on their writings, psychology, and a general larger picture – you lose track of the whole argument.

You then close your device in silence after staring blankly at your screen for a few moments. Maybe it’s a laptop, a tablet, a phone, a PC. You then proceed to wonder why you even bothered clicking on this blog post instead of someone else’s.

Let me just state my opinion on this: this book is utterly frustrating yet incredibly funny to read.

It’s like discovering a new TV series where each episode there’s a new story with a new set of characters and it always ends on a cliffhanger (with their true endings never to be found) – causing you to have an existential crisis why you even bothered to watch the next episodes when you know how they’re going to end. Whenever the Reader tries to read any book in the novel, there’s always either a publishing error or a supernatural force for the purpose of plot convenience (ex – like a certain book being banned in a country the Reader travels to) that prevents the Reader from ever finishing a book…

Which is honestly very clever, since it’s stated in the beginning where the Narrator warns us Calvino has a reputation for changing his style from book to book (which we can see in the books within the book, if that makes sense). From an author’s perspective, it is certainly a fun way to implement stories that you’ve worked on yet couldn’t finish. And from my experience, I’ve found it funny (and felt called out by it) because I have been guilty of doing the same in my writings: I constantly feel the urge to start new writing projects when there are multiple unfinished documents in my Google Drive collecting dust and crying to be finished. So sometimes I just have the idea to either repurpose certain details from an older draft or insert a paragraph as an excerpt of a book that a character happens to be reading.

I also think that the mini books can be a representation of people we meet in our lives. In some way, we meet and pass by acquaintances and classmates – where we only get to know a small part (or a chapter, some may say) about themselves before moving on. Nothing more. And in that case, rarely do you ever get to actually finish reading a book – because there’s always something more to discover about a person.

What are your thoughts on Calvino’s writing style, and how does it compare to your own? How did you feel about never knowing the true resolution to the mini books scattered throughout the plot?

Enduring Abuse (The Time of the Doves)

I remember expecting another coming-of-age story from “The Time of the Doves” (written by Mercè Rodoreda) when I first picked up the book, mostly because the last four (of five) books I read were all centered around this trope. So I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the novel focuses on something else entirely.

This time, we focus on Natalia – a young woman who despite already being engaged decides to pursue a relationship with some guy named Quimet (which was certainly one way to segue into the next scene). As time passes, we discover that Quimet is a very controlling person (and that their relationship is pretty dysfunctional up to his death in the Spanish Civil War (in which come to think of it, the majority of my blog posts were literally talking about dysfunctional relationships because of how much I enjoyed reading about them)).

The most noteworthy thing I’ve noticed throughout my reading is my constant irritation with Natalia’s lack of strength to defend herself in their relationship. But at the same time, it does make sense: Natalia grew up in an environment that taught her the man was in charge of the household. This is also where Quimet has taken advantage of it to some degree. For example, he refuses to call Natalia by her real name and only uses a pet name (“Colometa,” or “little dove”), which I feel dehumanises her and causes him to exercise more power over her. He is telling her that she will be how he wants her to be, not how she truly is. Even though Natalia has a job later on, she still has to come home and take care of her doves and family. Yet Quimet doesn’t really help her.

And when Quimet and his friends die to the war, I couldn’t help but pity Natalia when she is left with her children to face poverty and starvation. All her loved ones are dying, and she’s being left alone. As a result, she had planned at one point to do a murder-suicide with her children. So it was very fortunate that she was saved with a much happier marriage with a grocer in the end.

Her submission may be rather frustrating to power through, but ultimately, I have to give her kudos for her strength and resilience. The combined mental pressure stemming from war, many deaths of loved ones (including her father’s and husband’s), violence, hunger, and poverty has to be incredibly insane – and I expect a lot of people would have been driven past their breaking point at this.

If you were in Natalia’s shoes (think: deceased spouse with children to take care of in times of a crisis), would you do the same thing as she did and send your children away to a refugee camp? Or would you not be able to separate yourself from your children?

Concepts of a Comfort Zone (Deep Rivers)

In the process of reading Deep Rivers, I couldn’t help but take note of Ernesto’s sensitive character as he tries to make sense of the injustices he witness towards the Quechua people. Even though he was sent to a Catholic boarding school in the hopes that the education would help him integrate within white society, he prefers to stick with identifying with the Indigenous people since they were who he spent the happiest periods of his life with.

In fact, it was even stated in the text that he found the atmosphere of the boarding school to be quite oppressive. Ernesto’s innocence causes him to question things more frequently than his peers, causing him to be relatively isolated because of his willingness to question the norm. His friendships with schoolmates (like Antero) are even split apart because of their differences in opinion.

We can also see his suffering from the way he sees others treated, but finds solace in listening to Quechua music and remembering the places he has been in the countryside (to be even more specific, the rivers – hence the title!). His descriptions of the local birds and flora also implies him to feel a strong connection to nature. And it is likely that he has learned this reverence from the local people who have befriended him. By reading about his trips, we also get to discover more about Quechuan culture and folklore, which I’ve found to be very fun to read about. In other words, this is basically his comfort zone.

But even the comfort zone couldn’t distract him from his reality all the time. Personally, I felt very uncomfortable I read the part about abuse of the woman by the boys in the boarding school. The part where the unfairness of the political and religious structure to maintain their status quo was also written very well, and it still is a common argument regarding religion today (which causes Ernesto to understand the role of the church in oppressing the identity of the Indigenous people).

I’m also getting the impression that this book is autobiographical in a way. Since the author did make it his life’s mission to spread Quechuan appreciation to his culture, we can see his passionate stance on the Indigenous people in his writing (which also makes it extremely harsh in hindsight when Arguedas actually completed suicide under the stresses of clinical depression and frustration from the suffering the Quechuan people endured).

So my question would be was there any part about Quechuan culture in the book that you enjoyed reading about the most?

“The Most Functional Family” Award goes to… (Nada, Carmen Laforet)

Okay, let me just say this up front:

There isn’t a single universe where Andrea’s family would win that.

For context, “Nada” is a coming-of-age novel written by Carmen Laforet about an orphan who moves to Barcelona post-Spanish Civil War in order to attend university. She moves into her formerly-wealthy-but-now-poor grandmother’s apartment with several relatives: her grandmother (a very faithful Catholic), Aunt Angustias (a strict aunt), Uncle Román (a former musician), Uncle Juan (who isn’t a successful painter), Juan’s wife Gloria (a beautiful young gambler), and their child (who wasn’t named if I recall correctly). In addition to this, there’s also a housekeeper and a dog who live with them all.

With so many people living together in a run-down apartment when times are just hard after the Spanish Civil War – it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that conflicts and drama constantly break out between them. Juan abuses his wife. Angustias constantly lectures Andrea and closely follows her footsteps. It’s a very happy family, you know? And that’s why it’s understandable when Andrea only finds solace when she’s away from them (especially when she befriends Ena and others from her university).

Yet, I’ve always found it peculiar that the concept of blood family is very important to society – even if the members are horrible individuals. Now, the idea of “family” can be defined in multiple ways. But the general defnition would be something along the lines of parents, siblings, and any others who are related by blood. As far as I know, this doesn’t always mean trust, love, or loyalty in a relationship. Blood may make someone a relative, but it doesn’t mean that they care in a way that’s best for you (for example, Angustias may want to mould Andrea into her own definition of an ideal citizen, but her methods are very discouraging and invasive). A family is not always what you think.

So what exactly is a family supposed to mean? I like to think that they’re the people who take care of you when everything goes wrong. Those who don’t judge or turn away, despite any differences in opinion or clashes in personality. Those who are willing to support you no matter what and help you out.

In a sense, I believe Andrea’s friendship with Ena has been more familial than her blood relatives. Ena did take care of her, invite her into her family and spend lots of time with her. Her friendship also did help her get opportunities for jobs, further education, and ultimately leave her life behind for Madrid.

How important is “family” to you and why? Do you think it’s something you’re born into, or something you choose?

María Luisa Bombal “The Shrouded Woman”

Having a dead person tell the story is not an entirely original concept. This has happened in “The Book Thief,” where Death narrates the tale. It also happens in “Epitaph of a Small Winner,” where the protagonist narrates his death, funeral, and journey to the afterlife. But has that ever tired me of continuously reading books with similar themes, ideas, and storylines in them?

Absolutely not. What truly matters is the execution, after all.

Personally, I’m impressed with how much information about Ana María’s life was condensed within a relatively short amount of pages. Ana María may have been dead, but her spirit still watches as people she know come and look at her corpse. She can still think and feel, and uses the time to reminisce on her life with a new sense of insight death can provide. Now that her life is over, time can’t go back. There’s nothing she could change even if she has any lingering regrets. As a result, it is fascinating to see how Ana María’s change to her thoughts on love and everyone she has ever loved – ranging from the children she raised and first love Ricardo to her best friend Fernando and her very eventful marriage with Antonio. She also regrets having initially been cold towards her husband, as it had altered the course of their relationship where she experiences plenty of emotional pain.

Though, it is interesting to see how fresh of a perspective death could bring about life. After all, we tend to waste a lot of our time focusing about trivial matters. But Ana María doesn’t do this on her deathbed. Rather, she only focuses on her most important memories. In other words, time is best spent living and laughing in general. We do only get to walk the earth for a few decades before returning to dust.

And even then – even if death happened the next day – you still existed. You are a concept that the laws of the universe allow to materialise. All the beauty that is you is cemented into the fabric of reality. You will die, everyone that knew you will die, humanity will die, the earth will die, the sun will die, the universe will die. But no amount of time will ever negate the fact that your life was real.

So this does bring me to my question: how different do you think Ana Maria’s thoughts about her life would be if this was set in a different moment (ex = when she’s on the verge of dying)?

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