Tag Archives: sadness

Weekly Book Blog

Bolaño’s Amulet; thinking about Auxilio

For this week, we were given the task of reading Amulet by Robert Bolaño. I found this to be one of the best books we’ve read in this course so far. This book, like many of the other ones, have the consistent theme of memory, and I think repetition. The story is one long monologue, from Auxilio’s perspective. I seem to enjoy Auxilio as a character, “the mother of all young Mexican poets”. Something about her makes me really like and sympathize with her, especially when she’s recalling traumatic memories like the bathroom (which she recalls A LOT… repetition amirite?), or having to find accommodation while not wanting to overstay her welcome. One of the most quotable moments I read in the book was, “I lost my teeth but not my discretion, my tact, my sense of propriety” (Bolaño, 37). That was a very memorable line for me. It’s like she just wants to fit in, but also float around, which I find kind of cool. Auxilio doesn’t have many material possessions, but I think she possesses a lot of character and individuality which I noticed while reading. Something that I found a bit confusing during my reading was the constant references to ‘ash’ and damage, which I infer is reference to the revolution, the army occupation of UNAM, or of the coup (I can’t narrow which one is the best fit). It’s like her mind is dusted and ashy in a way. On another note, I felt as if Auxilio was always just sort of around. I say this especially due to the fact that the story is set up in a quite fragmented manner. The narrator is constantly recalling different stories to create one (I hesitate to call fluid, but I might play with the idea of it) narrative that is like her life. For example, there was a solid shift between hearing about Auxilio’s friend, and then hearing a ton about Arturito and Ernesto. Both memories are being called from different times in Auxilio’s life, but are almost told as a story; like she has already lived these moments. 

I really think that the narrators point of view is interesting, but slightly frustrating at the same time. I like how readers get a very raw sort of perspective from Auxilio, to the point where you can see that she’s still trying to think of her older memories and having difficulty recalling them as well. However, the crux of the matter is this, which leads to my question of the week: How do you think the narrative point of view limits what the readers get from the whole story? To simplify the question a bit more, do you think that Auxilio’s way of narration limits what we know? Auxilio seems like an unreliable narrator who is not telling us everything, which only gives us a certain amount of understanding of the story. I think that if the way the story was narrated (without an unreliable narrator), there is a good chance we would have a different story, or the same story but with different information. For example, I think there is a good chance that we would learn more about Juan and how he got into the situation with the King; maybe it was intentionally written so that we’d never know. However, its always interesting to think about how stories could be different if tweaks were made to a character or narrative style. 

With all this said, I would recommend this book especially due to its quotable nature. There are many lines I will continue to think about, especially these two (because I couldn’t choose one; “memory plays malicious tricks on me when the light of the waning moon creeps into the women’s bathroom like a spider” (101), or “If you have friends you’re never alone (61). 

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Weekly Book Blog

The Time of the Doves Review

The Time of the Doves by Mercé Rodoreda is definitely a heart-wrenching book, and challenging to read at times (well, I mean basically all of the time). There is little to be happy about in this book, and the times that are happy, you can probably count on two hands. Nevertheless, I think that the complexity and layers that the book has are a lot to unpack. This book left me with so many questions that I think discussions would be very helpful to clear up. I enjoyed reading from Natalia’s perspective the effects the war had on a woman living through the revolution; that is not something you often read in war-centered books. It made me think a lot about the significance of conflict on civilians, people of different classes, and a mother to two children.

One of the first sadnesses I identified in the book was how Natalia decided to leave her fiancé for Quimet; it really hurt me when she found her ex-fiancé and they talked for a little and he had nothing but well wishes for her. Quimet was once charming, lovely, and intriguing. However, over the course of the novel, it basically fades into nothingness, and creates more pains for him, his family, and for Natalia. I believe that there is a reason for this choice to write him this way, but its still difficult because Natalia had a choice and upon reflecting on her decisions, she might have regretted getting with Quimet. 

While reading, I continually found myself thinking ‘wow. Natalia truly is a hard-working woman whom I cannot begin to understand.’ Well, Im attempting to do so now, but I suppose you know what I mean; she works until she can barely stand, takes care of her two children who were painstakingly difficult to raise, deal with her husband who moans and groans til the cows come home, and look after a ton of doves which she soon grows to despise. I remember her ‘last straw’ moment with the doves, and as violent as she was, I sort of understood why she acted as she did. I interpreted her feelings as being sick and tired of Quimet’s actions, especially with the doves and towards her. I feel like Natalia is so under appreciated by her husband. It seems as if Natalia once was very fearful of changing in front of Quimet, but the amount of time they have spent together, she was just done. I think that the use of doves within the novel is a massive metaphor; the exact meaning, I am still grappling with. But there is no way that the use of doves was this heavy and there is no significance to them. Originally when reading, I thought that the use of doves could be a metaphor for Quimet and Natalia’s dreams and hopes, but I don’t know if that would make sense due to Natalia absolutely destroying the doves. Unless that is actually what was intended…

The Time of the Doves is packed with symbolism, metaphors, and references. I constantly found myself taking note of them. For example, the constant use of flowers to describe Antonio and Rita, while also mentioning them when Quimet’s mother died, and the jonquil’s that his mother planted in her flashback about the boys uprooting them. Even the rose of Jericho that she had kept since Quimet was born (p. 59). So much thought and meaning went into the intentions of the symbols that Rodoreda used throughout the story. I also found that the consistent use of foreshadowing to be intriguing. Similar to the flower example, Quimet’s mother makes a remark about boys being difficult; we then see how Antonio is born, and he clearly is not an easy child. The employment of symbolism. Metaphors, and foreshadowing enrich the story and make it extra enjoyable to read. It felt slightly like a puzzle, in which if I went over it again, I would find things I missed the first time around. 

A question I sort of brought up before that I would like to discuss is ‘what exactly is the significance of the doves within the context of the story?’ Maybe it was clear and I misunderstood it, but I’m a little confused about it. 

I feel like this meme is from a super insignificant part of the book, but I thought of it anyways lol.

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Weekly Book Blog

My Take on The Shrouded Woman

I found that I really enjoyed reading The Shrouded Woman. The first few pages really set up the general gist of the narrative, which was a very interesting concept in my opinion. I thought that Bombal did a great job of engaging readers (or me at least; and sometimes I find it difficult to enjoy certain novels of this genre). I have only read one novel prior to this one that was focused on the perspective of a dead person looking in on their life, which I thoroughly enjoyed in The Shrouded Woman. Occasionally, I found myself a bit confused when following the progression of the novel, specifically with regards to flashbacks and her current point of view; although, I usually found my way back to the main progression. The use of flashbacks integrated with the unique perspective of the dead Ana Maria allowed for the ability to delve into certain topics with different perspectives. I constantly was thinking of the topic of femininity within the novel, especially with Ana Maria in mind (mainly because she’s the main character in the novel). The first example I can think of is when she’s describing the flashback of Ricardo, her love for him, and how she was feeling when he sort of abandoned him; it’s almost as she completely gave up on things, and became extremely depressed. This made me question how reliant she was on a man who I don’t think truly loved and cared for her at that point (maybe before, but not anymore). Is that what Ana Maria thought her life should be equated to? Recall the quote from the book, “I felt weak, with no desires, my body and my spirit indifferent as though they were filled with passion and sorrow.” I felt as if she was very obsessed with this man, and it almost changed her perspective on life. Furthermore, I believe that her relationship with men greatly affected her femininity when she was married to Antonio (at least in the flashbacks). Her gradual resentment made it seem as if she was so unhappy with her life, that even it is stated in the novel, “the destiny of women is to remove the pain of love in an orderly house, before an unfinished tapestry.” I got the impression that she could not be independent among herself, specifically in relation to men and romantic partners in her life. However, I don’t want to only talk upon the femininity aspect of the novel, but I’d like to delve into what this novel provoked me to think about death, and the perspective of what happens beyond this earth. Ana Maria’s perspective post-mortem illustrated that she had many revelations, which I thought was an interesting part of the book. The aspect of reflection of her life seemed very good and almost in a sense philosophical, because she considered her feelings and thoughts in a new light. For example, when she sees Antonio crying, instead of being filled with hate, she almost feels great pity for him; “she feels her hate withdraw and disappear”. That was a very interesting moment of character development. Now, a final question I have for readers of this blog post is this; how do you think the novel would have differed if female independence had been a more prominent theme within the novel? What I mean by this is how do you think the novel would be different if Ana Maria found peace with not being with a lover? Would that even be possible, given the fact that this novel was written in the 30’s? I know I said I didn’t want to completely talk about the feminine aspect of this novel, but I don’t often get the chance to analyze and criticize novels with such interesting female protagonists (if you can even call Ana Maria a protagonist or narrator?). I would want to read this book again and find more evidence to support claims once I discuss this with other classmates!

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