Category Archives: Blogs

04/8/24

Conclusion – Money to Burn was iconic and y’all are just scared to admit it

In honour of my last blog post, I want to reflect on the many texts I have read.

In this unique sort of course, I was entirely in my element. Reading books and subsequently crying over my laptop while making memes has become my life.

I have used a variety of mediums throughout the past few weeks–ranging from works of art to my stupid memes. It really goes to show how fluid storytelling can be. The one medium I wish I had considered was doing a podcast, but I guarantee I would put too much work into dumb editing choices.

 

Novels

First and foremost, I am a Money to Burn defender. I will let the gay people do the crime. Even though it was not historically accurate, it was iconic. I love that this is an unpopular opinion. I personally enjoyed the stupidity of the three high criminals saying fuck you to the police holed out in that apartment. Additionally, the relationship between Dorda and Brignone was heartbreaking.

 

I want to bring us back to the early weeks so that I may again hate Breton in his novel Nadja. My man said, “Let me create a girl that’s so crazy that my wife would think it is okay for me to cheat on her, and then let me have Nadja worship my work.” We get it, Breton. You have no friends and no life, and you hate your wife. Yes, it was giving Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but it was also giving “Breton, you are psychotic. I hope your wife divorces you because she deserves better than your lame ass”.

My most contested opinion is about Agostino. I swear on all things holy, this book is not about the Oedipal complex. I recently reread the myth of Oedipus, and my man Freud did not describe it very well. The myth was that the prophecy was for Oedipus to kill his father and marry his mother, yet he was adopted and did not want to fulfill the myth. Unfortunately, he ends up killing his birth father (whom he does not recognize) and marries his birth mother (which, again, he does not recognize). When he discovers the truth about his relationship, he blinds and kills himself. Does this really seem like someone in love with his mother? No, Freud is a loser. I enjoyed Agostino, and in my blog post, I explicitly explain the tricky line it treads on adolescence and being attached to his mother (but not in a sexual way). 

The most profound novel had to be The Shrouded Woman. While I initially debated between The Shrouded Woman and The Time of the Doves, Bombal comes out on top. A unique narrative, a woman on her deathbed and dying a second death, the flipping timelines of past to present, it all perfectly encapsulates Ana Maria’s slow decline into death. I also enjoyed the language throughout the novel, especially the sentences about Ana Maria dying. Moment of silence for Ana Maria. The last few paragraphs about her succumbing to death and being swallowed up by the Earth are so profound and beautiful. This book had me questioning my own identity for a while.

The books I did not choose but are now officially added to my list are Mad Toy, The Trenchcoat, and The Book of Chameleons. 

 

My all-time favourite quotes:

“And it was also like one of those miserable creatures whose singular torment, repeated indefinitely throughout eternity, aroused the curiosity of Dante, who would have asked the tormented creature himself to recount its cause and its particularities at greater length had Virgil, striding on ahead, not forced him to hurry after immediately, as my parents did me” (Proust p. 173)

“Hatred, yes hatred, and beneath its somber wings she breathed, she slept, she laughed; hated her now main purpose, her primary concern. A hatred that victories did not lessen but made fiercer, as if the fact of meeting so little resistance could only increase its fury” (Bombal p. 229)

“But, born of her body, she was feeling an infinity of roots sink and spread into the Earth like an expanding cobweb through which was rising, trembling up to her, the constant throbbing of the universe.And now she desires nothing more than to remain there crucified to the earth, suffering and enjoying in her flesh the ebb and flow of distant, far distant tides; feeling the grass grow, new islands emerge, and on some other continent, the unknown flower bursting open that blooms only on a day of eclipse. And she even feels huge suns boiling and exploding and gigantic mountains of sand tumbling down, no one knows where” (Bombal p. 259)

“I’m a typist and a virgin, and I like coca-cola” (Lispector p. 27)

“Returning to the grass. For that puny creature named Macabéa great nature showed itself only in the form of grass in
the sewer—were she given the thick sea or the high peaks of mountains, her soul, even more virgin than her body, would
go mad and her organism would explode, arms here, intestines there, her head rolling round and hollow at her feet—as you
dismantle a wax dummy” (Lispector p. 71)

“No woman, no girl wore a man’s fedora…” (Duras p. 12) – Tell that to 10-year-old me, you coward.

“for the first time in her life, death knew what it felt to have a dog on her lap” (Saramago p. 172) – cut to me crying.

“There was something unbearable in the things, in the people, in the buildings, in the streets that, only if you reinvented it all, as in a game, became acceptable. The essential, however, was to know how to play, and she and I, only she and I, knew how to do it” (Ferrante p. 106-107)

 

Money to Burn section…hehe

“The Gaucho acts as the body, solely responsible for executing the action, a psychotic killer; the kid is the brains and does the thinking for him” (Piglia p. 52)

“Life is like a freight train, haven’t you watched one of them go by at night? It goes so slowly, you can’t see the end, it seems it’ll never finish going by, but finally you’re left behind, watching the tiny redlight at the back of the last carriage as it disappears into the distance” (Piglia p. 92)

“If the money were the sole justification for the murders they committed, and if what they did, they did for the money they were now burning, that had to mean they had no morals nor motives, that they acted and killed gratuitously, out of a taste for evil, out of pure evil, that they were born assassins, insensate criminals, degenerates. Filled with indignation, the citizens gathered to observe the scene, offering shouts of horror and loathing, looking like something from a witches’ sabbath straight out of the Middle Ages (according to the papers), they couldn’t bear the prospect of 500,000 dollars being burned before their very eyes, in a move that left the city and the country horror-struck, and which lasted precisely fifteen interminable minutes, which is exactly how long it takes to burn such an astronomical quantity of money” (Piglia p. 157)

“They’re made of ice, they have no pity, they’re dead. They’re like living cadavers hellbent on just one thing, discovering quite how many of us they can take with them” (Piglia p. 163)

‘Don’t give in, Marquitos,’ said the Kid. He called him by his name for the first time in a long while, in its diminutive form, as if the Gaucho were the one in need of consolation. Then the Kid raised himself up ever so slightly, leaning on one elbow, and murmured something into his ear which no one could hear, a few words of love, no doubt, uttered under his breath or perhaps left unuttered, but sensed by the Gaucho who kissed the Kid as he departed” (Piglia p. 181)

“Ready to doe, no way; because nobody’s ever ready to die, but prepared to die, yes” (Piglia p. 183)

“And the Gaucho could feel him there, dead at his feet, the only man who had ever loved him, and who’d treated him as a person, better than a brother, that Kid Brignone had treated him like a woman, understanding whatever it was he couldn’t bring himself to say and so always saying, he the kid himself, whatever it was the Gaucho felt without being able to express it, as if reading his thoughts” (Piglia p. 188-189)

“The desire for vengeance, which is perhaps the first spark in the electric shock of the human mind when it is cut into, coursed rapidly around the circuit of the crowd” (Piglia p. 202)

“My mother always knew that I was destined to be misunderstood and nobody has ever understood me, but occasionally I’ve succeeded in getting someone to love me” (Piglia p. 203)

It will never be said that I am not the number one Money to Burn defender

 

The Official “Gabby” Rank List is as follows:

  1. Money To Burn (controversial take, get over it)
  2. Death with Interruptions (Me and Death besties)
  3. The Shrouded Woman (What if I were to die…twice?)
  4. The Hour of the Star
  5. My Brilliant Friend (What if I made a perfect shoe? Does that mean I can drop out of school?)
  6. The Time of the Doves (Someone get these damn birds out of my house)
  7. Agostino (he isn’t in love with his mom, god)
  8. Deep Rivers
  9. The Lover
  10. “Combray”
  11. Nadja (It’s giving Breton is a psychopath)

 

Discussion Question

For those who are not fans, why do you really dislike Money to Burn? Are you afraid of the masterpiece in literature?

For those who are unwavering Money-to-Burnies (our fan club name), what makes this book so unique?

 

That’s pretty much it. I hope that everyone enjoyed my memes and perhaps changed their tune about the most tragic queer love story in the history of criminals.

04/2/24

I’m Just A Girl – My Brilliant Friend

“Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition, and they’ve got talent, as well as just beauty. I’m so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for.” (Alcott, Little Women)

A wearying message arrives to Elena: Her friend has vanished. Yet, it’s not entirely surprising as her friend had “wanted not only to disappear herself, now, at the age of sixty-six, but also to eliminate the entire life that she had left behind” (23). This life casts a burden on Lila and results in her vanishing. To comprehend why, it is crucial to delve into the before– it cannot be understated  “that there really had been a before” (36).

My Brilliant Friend sets the stage for Elena Greco and her friend Lila. The two live amongst the edges of Naples in a poorer neighbourhood. From Elena’s perspective, we experience Elena’s relationship with Lila from childhood to adolescence. Set amongst a background of eclectic characters, Elena and Lila stand out. With a list of characters in the beginning, the friendship of the two girls is the key theme. The two exist in a liminal duality–forever opposing yet existing complementarily.

Early on, Elena constantly compares herself to Lila. Lila was an intelligent student, making “[Elena] second in everything” (52). Despite having the opportunity to attend middle and, subsequently, high school, Elena still finds herself returning to Lila and her mind. Lila exudes a natural curiosity that has her soar over her peers. However, she can only attend school at the elementary level as her parents refuse to pay. The girls have many of the same ambitions (leaving the neighbourhood) but are destined to split. Thus, the diverging paths begin for the two girls, and a thematic device is shown in many parts.

 

A first read might have you considering the inherent jealousy between the two girls. I could recognize Elena’s pain at always feeling one step behind Lila. However, the authenticity of such feelings further cements the truth of the friendship.

Elena’s narrative may be filled with snipes at Lila, but considering the 1950s period, the community frowned upon the girls’ ambition. There is an internalized misogyny that is seen within the characters, and it is essential to notice that while looking at the overarching narratives of how women fit into the world.

I had to reread these narratives to understand if truly was a nasty relationship between the two girls. Of course, it isn’t, more so a reflection of the complex nature of growing up and being around other people–a sort of difficult period of finding your own identity amongst a sea of others (plus, puberty).

Within these 350 pages of agony, My Brilliant Friend is a very intense novel. Even just talking about the key relationship, there are many more that I haven’t mentioned. These girls exist alongside characters who are abusive, violent, and impulsive. But even in their differing lives, Elena and Lila are both connected to one another; just in the complex string of fate.

To be honest, reading this book was brutal. Ferrante truly projects her heart onto the paper, and I found myself needing to take a moment. The length is nothing if you understand why she placed each word as it was. Even as the first book in a series, she could convey an authentic view of childhood and leave you questioning.

ps. I was super sick reading this so I was already having a rough time. Enjoy the memes.

“It was as if, because of an evil spell, the joy or sorrow of one required the sorrow or joy of the other; even our physical aspect, it seemed to me, shared in that swing” (257)

 

Discussion Question

What is the effect of Elena and Lila being so different yet complementary? How can their relationship function as “Yin and Yang” or the “Sun and Moon”?

 

 

 

03/26/24

Death With Interruptions – A Permanent Curse Suspended in Limbo

“As in a game of chess, death advanced her queen. A few more moves should open the way to a checkmate, and the game will end.” (186)

Is the wish for immortality a blessing or a curse? That answer seems simple.

What begins as a celebration devolves into the unknown. Humanity’s fear of death is nothing compared to its fear of life.

In this new world, religion stands without purpose, the government is at a halt, and the ‘maphia’ (emphasis on ‘ph’ so as not to be confused with mafia with ‘fi’) starts to infect the community. Eternal life breeds new challenges that humanity hadn’t dared to consider, and one must “not foster false hopes” (8) of immortality.

Death may be gone, but pain is not. Those on the brink of death are suspended in a listless, forever undying state: a permanent state of limbo. The removal of death is not a blessing. It stirs doubt within the population because what is there to live for if you cannot die?

Amongst my brief summary (and subtle existential ramblings), this book is truly a hypnotic mind-fuck. The suspension of death is not typically something one thinks about–but these ‘what ifs?’ are genuinely the point with works of speculative fiction.

 

Narratives At Play

The beginning presents itself as the philosophical pondering of death’s vacation and, underneath it, the satirical nature of death’s vacation. It is a commentary on humanity’s futile existence. It is an absurdist case study.

“for it is not the same thing to bury a human being and to carry it to its final resting place a cat or a canary, or indeed a circus elephant or a bathtub crocodile…” (18).

The funeral directors, once having a market of corpses, now find the coffins empty. They complain over their new jobs of burying animals in elaborate ways–a strange complaint in this time of uncertainty. This is just one of the many absurdist themes in the novel. There is no longer any point. Death is gone, and people will start to wish to be dead. Immortality is a curse, which we will soon see.

 

Around more than halfway, death herself becomes a character. The tone switches into a melancholic existence.

This is where I started to connect emotionally with the novel. I am truly interested in the personification of death. I am intrigued by the paradoxical nature of death: being alive yet not feeling ‘alive’ in the way humanity does.

A cellist’s pre-death warning keeps bouncing back to death, something that has never happened before. Curious (and a bit worried), death takes it upon herself to investigate.

Death can find herself in the human world, sitting amongst the audience at the orchestra. What began as the journey to condemn the cellist to death reveals itself into death learning to live. It is such a beautiful narrative that focuses on the futility of life. As death watches the cellist, the readers find themselves entranced by the simple man. The way “a man and a dog asleep, perhaps […] dreaming about each other, the man about the dog, the dog about the man…” (170) is something so mundane it truly captivates death.

My stomach was in knots as I watched the impending countdown of the man’s life, the dog one day searching for his owner to no avail. It is genuinely the inevitability of death and its effects on others that is so heartbreaking. This man, unmarried, a simple cellist, accompanied only by man’s best friend, will leave his buddy. I don’t know why, but this broke something in me.

But all is not tragic as Death finds herself alive, setting a blaze to the cellist’s death letter and falling asleep (something death never could do). And with death alive, “no one died” (238).

If I reread this book, I think I will die from sadness. (Ps. I was on the verge of losing it if the dog died)

 

“For the first time in her life, death knew what it felt to have a dog on her lap” (172)

 

Discussion Question

In this land with no death, some cross the border to let the dying die. The morality of killing is blurry in a land without death, yet the limbo state of the dying is permanent. Reflecting on a world in which you have to decide whether to let someone you love live in pain or die, which would you choose? What are the moral implications of either choice?

 

The only certainty we have is life and eventually death: https://www.arthistoryproject.com/subjects/death/

“Self-portrait with Fiddling Death”– Arnold Böcklin

 

03/15/24

Be Gay, Do Crime – Money To Burn

“What has to be most feared, the worst thing in life, always happens out of the blue, without anyone being ready for it, which makes it all the worse, because one is both waiting but has no time to get used to the idea and is caught out, paralysed, yet obliged to act and take decisions” (121-22)

 

Money to Burn (or perhaps Burnt Money) is a thrilling retelling of a true criminal tale. Being that Piglia was sued for his work, it’s evident he took a few creative liberties. However, this is a work of fiction and, therefore, can be (to be frank) fictional. To begin, we are introduced to a plethora of characters, many of which are given an extensive backstory. First, have Fontán Reyes (real name: Atir Omar Nocito) do the handoff. He used to be a tango singer until he started doing drugs. The reason why he joined the robbery was so he could make enough to escape to New York and open an Argentinian restaurant.

We are given extensive character backgrounds of people briefly in the heist. At the book’s midway point, we only have four key members. Yet, Piglia has such a captivating way of writing that he assures us that every character on the team deserves their backstory shared.

 

Who is on our Mafia Team?

I had to chart the characters as I went on and occasionally mark them as dead

  • Malito (Mad Mala): Our puppet master, the operation’s boss. He is a traitor.
  • Twisty Bazán: Does drugs…is a narc
  • ‘Crow’ Merles: The gang’s driver. Lowkey thought his being named Crow was cool, but he was boring
  • Blanco Galano: Crow’s sugar baby. She does cocaine. How old is she? Concerning.
  • Fontán Reyes: Was a tango singer until drugs. Justice for him.
  • Hernando ‘Nando’ Heguilein: The big boss. Named after the chicken restaurant?
  • Dorda “The Blond Gaucho”: Suffers from hearing voices, he’s just trying his best
  • Brignone “The Kid”: he is a wildcard, protector of Dorda.

 

Dorda and Brignone. Yes, I found myself rooting for them. Honestly, both sides are dicey (I’m talking about you, Commissioner Silva). Described as “twinned brothers, identical twins, belonging to the mafia fraternity” (51-52), these two are connected in such a profound way that “they understood each other without words” (52). All people want is gay people who commit crimes.

The two exist in a liminal space, both struggling with this internalized homophobia. When Brignone dies, we truly see their love come to fruition. They are the sole focus in the book’s last half, partially because they and Crow are stuck in this apartment surrounded by police. But in Chapter Nine, Dorda finally begins to make sense (if one can ever truly ‘make sense), and we can understand the pain boiling inside him.

“And the Gaucho could feel him there, dead at his feet, the only man who had ever loved him, and who’d treated him as a person, better than a brother, that Kid Brignone had treated him like a woman, understanding whatever it was he couldn’t bring himself to say and so always saying, he the Kid himself, whatever it was the Gaucho felt without being able to express it, as if reading his thoughts (188-89)

It is within Dorda’s narrative that I genuinely found myself sad. He grew up with a mother insisting he would “come to a bad end” (183). His mind is fragmented, as he is pestered “with those voices reverberating inside him” (187). When recounting the murder of the peasant girl, he explains that she was “begging him to kill her and the Gaucho paid attention to that voice issuing such softly-spoken orders, telling him what to do” (198). These voices drive him mad, to kill, to rage, and the drugs are what quiets them down. I could not stop leaving the room while reading Chapter 9 to scream. #Justice for Dorda and Brignone

“My mother always knew that I was destined to be misunderstood and nobody has

ever understood me, but occasionally I’ve succeeded in getting someone to love me” (203)

“I listened to her as if face to face with the Argentine version of a Greek tragedy. The heroes were determined to confront and resist the insurmountable, and chose death as their destiny” (208)

It’s important to note that I, or other readers, am not justifying horror but trying to understand it.

Pause for a moment of silence for Brignone.

 

Discussion Question

  1. Where the hell is Malito? Is he a Traitor?
  2. Why is burning money so taboo? Why have we, as a society, deemed paper more valuable than human lives? Why is it then that the crowd is furious?

 

Enjoy the collection of memes I made to deal with Brignone dying.

 

03/11/24

An Illicit Affair of Adolescence – The Lover

   “Everything flows towards the Pacific, no time for anything to sink, all is swept along by the deep and head-long storm of the inner current, suspended on the surface of the river’s strength” (Duras 22)

 

To fully understand what is happening in this novel, one must observe the disturbing content embedded.

The Lover is a story about an illicit affair between a young girl and an older man who just so happens to be Chinese. While on paper, many readers can assume that this entanglement is the worst of the novel. The young girl’s mother is incredibly abusive as well as her older brother is extremely violent and filled with rage.

With that out of the way, The Lover is a good book. I am not justifying these actions, but they serve as somewhat of an autobiographical retelling of this hidden love. The two titular lovers have not just age but race against them. This is what portrays such a complex narrative. The lovers are sharing an interracial relationship, thereby fighting against the prejudices stacked against them. When meeting for the first time at a dinner, there is an underlying tension as her “brother gorge themselves without saying a word to him” (Duras 51). While it is not said the two are in a relationship, the white brothers are still hesitant to this ‘outsider’. The book’s themes are so nuanced that readers can find themselves connecting with taboo characters like the older lover. He is an example of the wealth of narratives in this novel–Duras is so precise to flesh out everyone’s stories, because this is her authentic life.

Hence, the novel begins as Marguerite’s leap into a sexual awakening. It is another coming-of-age story except with a focus on love and desire. In the end, her and her lover don’t end up together–the latter’s father forbidding the son from marrying a white girl. It becomes a fleeting memory that has ached in Duras’s chest for a long time.

Between her sexual revelation, Duras becomes aged to the world–not in the sense of no longer being a virgin but in finally witnessing the true world. She is not afraid to release her true experiences, no matter how risqué. This novel serves as a woman trying to recollect her life–the sudden jumps between times indicate an authentic portrayal of memory.

My review comes up short because the book was so…complex.

Good books can have you writing long passages, carefully analyzing every detail, or it can have you sitting on the floor, trying to understand the emotional turmoil the book carried you along for.

I would say this book broke me, but that is a very dramatic statement.

 

“I see the war as I see my childhood. I see wartime in the reign of my elder brother as one. Partly, no doubt, because it was during the war that my younger brother died: his heart, as I’ve said, had given out, given up. As for my elder brother, I don’t think I ever saw him during the war. By that time it didn’t matter to me whether he was alive or dead. I see the war as like him, spreading everywhere, breaking in everywhere, stealing, imprisoning, always there, merged and mingled with everything, present in the body, in the mind, awake and asleep, all the time, a prey to the intoxicating passion of occupying that delightful territory, a child’s body, the body of those less strong, of conquered peoples. Because evil is there, at the gates, against the skin” (Duras 62-63)

 

Discussion Question

By titling the book The Lover, what is Duras really trying to convey? (Hint, it’s not about love)

How is the archetype of a “Lover” used to redefine Duras’s experiences? Can we argue that she is acting in opposition to this role? Or is she perhaps commenting on those loves that are not romantic per say?

 

Bonus

This book is severely uncomfortable in its themes, so please enjoy my message to society (the following is a joke)

Why must we, as a distinguished society, cast a shadow on fedoras? I prominently wore fedoras as a child and looked adorable. Case in point, here is proof from my father’s facebook – Gabby

 

03/5/24

The Hour of the Star, starring Macabéa, the Typist, Virgin, and Coca-Cola Fan. Et tu brute?!

“But who am I to rebuke the guilty? The worst part is that I have to forgive them. We must reach such a nothing that we indifferently love or don’t love the criminal who kills us. But I’m not so sure of myself:  I have to ask, though I don’t know who can answer, if I really have to love the one who slays me and ask who amongst you slays me. And my life stronger than myself, replies that it wants revenge at all cost and replies that I must struggle like someone drowning, even if I die in the end. If that’s the way it is, so be it” (Lispector 72)

 

How do I even try to comprehend this novel?

 

Macabéa, the titular character who is not named until at least halfway into the novel, is strange. Frequently described as dumb, Macabéa is someone who “doesn’t know herself except from living aimlessly” (Lispector 7). If she were to contemplate her existence wondering, “Who am I?’ She would fall flat on her face” (Lispector 7). Within these opening remarks from the narrator, we can infer his self-righteous nature. He cannot fathom the very being of Macabéa, or at least he cannot understand her.

“It’s a fear that those whose sense of self is rooted in knowing often have about those perceived to be unknowing” (Minor)

The entire creation of Macabéa in the narrator’s eyes reminded me of Nadja; Breton also created a woman to redirect his insecurities. Thus, the narrator portrays his own self-isolation onto Macabéa. He claims that he “ha[s] to seek a truth that is beyond [him]” (Lispector 12). It is a desire to understand the girl who exists as nothing. But nothing is something; the very nature of there being nothing implies its very existence.

“All roads are blocked to a philosophy which reduces everything to the word ‘no.’ To ‘no’, there is only one answer, and that is ‘yes.’ Nihilism has no substance. There is no such thing as nothingness, and zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing. Man lives more by affirmation than by bread” (Sorenson, From Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables)

Leaving the academic philosophical lecture aside, the book is a more extensive commentary on humanity; what does it mean to be human? Who am I?

Previously, I touched upon the narrator’s desire to understand Macabéa. This one theme is central to the short novel because everyone around her seems to be trying to make sense of her. We see the explosive attitude of Olímpico, the somewhat helpful Glória, or even the mystical fortune teller. Everyone exists around her to eliminate her individuality or, rather, her lack of it; the narrator describes her as “a dispensable cog” (Lispector 21). But she is nothing of the sort. Macabéa’s very own identity contrasts with society’s. We can see her “possess[ing] a keen ability to see beyond the structures that everyone else lives by” (Berry). She existed “ in [an] impersonal limbo, without reaching the worst or the best.” (Lispector 15). To be frank, she just was. 

Macabéa is a being that just exists. She watches the little things, narrowing her view onto a small speck in the entire universe. Living a quaint life can never changed for the girl; “Just as you could be sentenced to death, the fortune teller sentenced her to life” (Lispector 70), and it is when she truly started living that she died. 

This novel may be one of the strangest things I’ve ever read. A closer look envelops all these heavy philosophical topics tucked under 80 pages.

Quick quote about Greta Garbo: “There was a reason, beyond the exertions of the Hollywood publicity machine, that a single line she uttered in one movie—“I want to be alone”—became so fused with her image.”

 

Discussion Question

What truly makes a life ‘meaningful’?

 

Works Cited

Gerry, Rachel. “Writing the Void: A Review of Clarice Lispector’s “The Hour of the Star” Prism Online, 2021, https://prismmagazine.ca/2021/05/27/writing-the-void-a-review-of-clarice-lispectors-the-hour-of-the-star/

Minor, Abby. “That Full Void’: Clarice Lispector’s The Hour of the Star.” AGNI, 2021 https://agnionline.bu.edu/review/that-full-void-clarice-lispectors-the-hour-of-the-star/

Sorensen, Roy, “Nothingness”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2023 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2023/entries/nothingness/

Talbot, Margaret. “What Was So Special About Greta Garbo?” The New Yorker, 2021 https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2021/12/13/what-was-so-special-about-greta-garbo

 

02/27/24

The Grieving Period – How “The Time of the Doves” Presents Melancholy

“And I didn’t know if I was sleeping or awake but I saw the doves. I saw them like before. Everything was the same: the dovecote painted dark blue, the nests full of straw, the roof with the wires getting rusty because I couldn’t hang the clothes up, the trapdoor, the procession of doves marching through the apartment taking little steps from the back porch to the balcony…Everything was the same, but it was pretty” (173-174)

To fully delve into this book, one must recognize the symbolism of doves. Doves act as a major metaphor throughout the novel. Some of the meanings of this symbol include peace and love. The appearance and disappearance of such birds provide a clue as to where the narratives are going

If one is to delve deeper into these imageries, you would find references to pigeons. When saying Colometa, “pigeon girl” is expressed in English. The external proof to this comes from an article entitled”Life in Barcelona” by Micheal Eaude. Eaude presents the real world connection to the novel with Plaça del Diamant– a real life place and the original name of the book. The story is reflective of the Spanish Civil War, seemingly entangled with our real narratives. In Barcelona, there is a statue that so similar to Nataila’s story. Sitting in this square is “a low, black sculpture of a naked woman screaming­—in anguish or perhaps liberation. She is surrounded by pigeons” (Eaude).

We can view this statue as a testament to feelings of entrapment; both within the confides of the war and her marriage with Quimet. There is a sense of empowerment in this novel; “history is seen through the eyes of this working-class woman with her feet on the ground” (Eaude). Continuing on with our symbol of entrapment, Nataila begins the novel pulled away by her now ex-fiancé and into an abusive relationship with Quimet. She reminded me of The Shrouded Woman, who too lived her life full of pain. Nataila seems to be bound to the walls of her and Quimet’s home; she becomes a prisoner in her own home. When tasked with housework, Nataila cannot help but think that “Maria probably gets them done cleaner” (46), a woman that Quimet so often whispers. After their wedding and when it was time to consummate the marriage, Nataila cannot help but recall things she heard as a child that “[…] women die ripped open [and] it begins when they get married” (50). Even within these early moments, Nataila is trapped into this marriage and in turn cannot fly away.

The Doves in the book are embodiments are the world around them especially Nataila. When the doves are introduced they live in a dovecote on the roof. The first dove is injured and after Nataila nurses it Quimet proposes they keep it. The first dove lives in “a cage like a mansion […]” (65). It is within these subtle motifs that you can recognize the feelings of entrapment both with the dove and Nataila. Eventually when more doves arrive the dovecote gets bigger until Quimet insists that the doves should be able to visit their home. This is when the narratives start to blend together. The doves were first trapped in a sense and now are able to be apart of the family; you can release doves, but Nataila cannot be released. Her frustration with the doves is understandable as all she can sense is doves; it is overwhelming in a time of war. We can see the metaphor of doves as peace and love during this war being nothing but a burden to Nataila. They represent something that she could not get. When the doves all leave or die it is when the war is at its peak; Nataila and the kids are left alone hungry, wishing for a moment of peace or love.

The Time of Doves presents a tragedy that lies within hopelessness. It serves as an authentic telling of war from the perspective of the citizens. It is not afraid to have the characters feel and mourn. One more moment I want to draw attention to is this quote: “And one night when I was lying with Antoni on one side and Rita on the other, with their ribs sticking out and their bodies all lined with bright blue veins, I decided to kill them” (145). This moment is heartbreaking–Nataila had just found on Quimet was dead and her family was dying. In times of war, citizens suffer under the lack of supplies and bloodshed. Perhaps other readers viewed this as cruel but I viewed it as love. Nataila wanted to keep her children safe, but it was no longer an option; either she could let them suffer or ensure they could rest. It’s a truly devastating moment in a mother’s perspective; how can you protect your children during a war? This moment completely captures Nataila as a character–despite going through all this abuse with Quimet, she will always have love for her children. She wanted to fly away, be free of her cage.

This post is already very long so I will add one more thing. Antoni was everything the family needed. I’m not a fan of men swooping in and saving the day, but in this case, Antoni lived as a lonely shop-owner without any children and Nataila was a hard-working mother. He wasn’t a knight in shining armour, but rather just a human who wished to help her for his emptiness could become whole. Antoni is the best love for Nataila hands down.

As The Time of The Doves comes to an end, the quote I first started with brings the narrative to a conclusion. After everything that happened, she can see peace. The doves have come back as an omen, that everything will be okay. It is the fleetness of grief: Nataila can start to heal even if her world is still a bit blue. The Time of The Doves can fly away with melancholy.

 

Discussion Question:

Doves are a recurrent theme in this book. I have personally noted what I believe is what they are represented for, but what does everyone else think? What do you believe the doves are symbolic of? Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🙂

 

Works Cited

Eaude, Michael. “Life in Barcelona.” Metropolitan Barcelona, April 2013 https://www.barcelona-metropolitan.com/features/in-diamond-square-barcelona-books/

02/13/24

Deep Rivers – The Forces of Illa and Yllu: The Duality of Humanity

“For many days afterward I felt alone, completely isolated. I felt I should be like the great river, crossing the land, cutting through the rocks, undetainably and serenely flowing through mountains and forests, and entering the sea accompanied by a huge nation of birds that sang from the heavens” (63)

This novel digs deep into the discourse of the Western society and all those we oppose it. The conflict is struck from within Ernesto, existing between two different worlds. In the beginning, the novel stands out to be a journey with Ernesto and his father–moving around as needed for his father’s job. Within these narratives, one can see the beginning as a passing of knowledge from Ernesto’s father to him. However, when Ernesto is enrolled in the Catholic boarding school things take a sinister tone.

There are many recurring motifs present in the book. We have the mentally ill woman who is involved sexually with some of the boys (sometimes without her consent), the recurring bullying, and just a lack of familiarity. One of the biggest issues within Ernesto’s life is his disconnect. There are many times when such Western ideals cannot link about to the Indigenous thinking of his past. In the West, humanity exists apart from the world–living as beings on the Earth. Whereas in many other cultures, including that of Andean thinking is about the interconnectedness of humanity and nature–we exist inside the large kingdom of Earth. There are many recurring times where Ernesto is fed Western ideals, but in the end, he is able to reaffirm his own identity.

A symbol that is prevalent throughout the whole novel is that of the Zumbayllu. Described as a spinning top toy, the Zumbayllu is a representation of Ernesto’s eventual place in the school–it is at a time where he no longer is isolated and can start opposing the system around him. When Ernesto first sees the Zumbayllu it is if a light switched in his head–this object is apart of his past that was denied to him at the school. The Zumbayllu seems to exist as a magical force that unlocks all of Ernesto’s memories growing up.

The Zumbayllu then leads into the introduction of Quechuan terms and culture. To start, the Tankayllu “is the name of the inoffensive humming insect” (Argueadas 64) that children would chase around–mirroring the dynamics of the Zumbayllu. Another memory is that of the Pinkuyllu, a sort of giant flute played at celebrations, and the Wak’rapuku, a large trumpet “made of bull’s horn” (Argueadas 66).  These bursts of Ernesto’s culture showcase his perseverance for his identity.

The more difficult ones to understand is that of Illa and Yllu. Illa is explained as “certain kind of light” which goes hand-in-hand with the suffix Yllu meaning a sound of “music created by the movement of light objects” (Argueadas 64). It’s important to note that while this is one such definition, Illa and Yllu have many definitions. They represent a duality of beings: think of the sun and the moon, or good and bad. They are opposites but not in a hostile sense; they both exist as a companion to one another. We can see this similar thinking in other cultures such as that of Yin and Yang–opposite forces that must work in tandem. This thinking is seen throughout the course of Ernesto’s growth. Ernesto had to see the world in both the good and bad light. The synchronous nature of creativity and destruction is necessary for balance. Towards the ending of chapter 6 (Zumbayllu), Ernesto goes back to the courtyard alone to play with the Zumbayllu. This moment of winding up the toy and watching it fly resulting in “a great joy, fresh and pure, illumin[ing] [Ernesto’s] life” (Argueadas 87). The key word there is illumine, which is similar to illuminate, representing a spiritual enlightenment. Ernesto can find spiritual peace amongst the sea of chaos as reflected in his identity.

While there are many other themes present in the book, I personally enjoyed the symbolism of the Zumbayllu and the concept of opposite forces (also the plague as a whole is a metaphor for trying to eliminate the Andean peoples) Deep Rivers represents a raw account of cultural dissonance during a period of conflict between the Andean peoples and the Spanish people. It is truly one of the most profound novels I have read in a while. The mentioning of Catholicism is executed very well throughout the book–portrayed in a way that acts as yet another oppressive force. It is in constant opposition with the Andean ways of thinking, but unlike Illa and Yllu, Catholicism will not live in alongside it.

“Who is capable of setting the bounds between heroism and the iciness of a great sorrow?” (172)

 

Discussion Question:

In the beginning of the novel there is a mention to Argueadas use of personification in the novel. With the title Deep Rivers, Argueadas is making a statement not just the actual depth of the Andean rivers, but the depth of the Andean culture itself in the country of Peru. What are some differences between Ernesto’s way of thinking and the boys at the boarding school?

Additionally, we have seen the Zumbayllu’s impact on Ernesto, what do you feel the other boys see when they think of it? What do you think could be an object symbolic to the other boys (i.e Palacitos’s coin)?

 

“Gold is something that human beings discover deep down in the rocks, or in the sands of the rivers. Everyone is exalted by its dull gleam, even if we only fancy we see some similar glow in the sand or in the streaks of minerals on the dark walls of a cave.” (218)

 

The painting I have here is from Peruvian painter, Fransico (Pancho) Fierro. With his background in Spanish, Indigenous, and African descent, Fierro was the perfect artist for Ernesto’s story. In this watercolour painting, Fierro is depicting traditional Peruvian culture (or at least how it was around 1850). This painting is longly titled: “A man riding a mule, his whip raised, another mule loaded with grass alongside, from a group of drawings depicting Peruvian dress”

02/5/24

Agostino – A Case Study in Mommy Issues

“This is why he must not betray the annoyance and disappointment that he was feeling. But try as he may to feign an air of composure and serenity, he still felt the everyone could read in his face how forced and petty his attitude was” (7)

A story can be powerful despite the length. Where many books are lengthy and redundant, Agostino is able to capture the fleeting moment of a summer in just under 100 pages. With prevalent themes of coming of age, sexuality, emotions, Agostino exists as inside a summer.

One thing I hope to not hear is…Freud. I am one of the biggest Freud haters. However, it is clear that Agostino has a case of mommy issues. Listen as much as I want to make fun of the guy, he is a kid. It is within the dynamic of being a newly 13 year old that one can decipher the inner workings on his strange fascinating with him mother. He is teetering on the line between being a child and an adult: the period of adolescence. The world is strange to him. But what’s even stranger is sex. He is dropped in the deep end (pardon the pun)and into the vicious waters of human sexuality.

To explore this complex narrative, we must first examine Agostino. Now, Agostino is not in love with his mother. While he does suffer from a strange fascination with her, it goes beyond that. Beginning the book, Agostino is his mother’s son. He is cared for by her and loved by her–he cannot imagine a world in which it isn’t just the two of them. However, drop in a 20 year old guy to flirt with and it seems that Agostino is pushed aside. Now Agostino has built a deep bond with his mother because his father left at a young age. This time of abandonment is reason to why Agostino feels so attached to his mother.

When it comes to Agostino’s fascination with his mother’s body, it goes back to the idea of human sexuality. Agostino is a child; he has lived his life filled with imagination. Curiosity is natural, and so is being swayed by older kids. The kids of the beach are the ones to tell Agostino about the real world, sending him into a spiral. It is this Agostino that watches the clothed figure of his mother, not from a place of actual arousal, but a morbid curiosity. He has been ‘corrupted’ in a sense and he longs to fully loose his innocence.

The plan of a loss innocence is lost in the end. This is where we see the summer wrap up. Agostino yearns to be with a woman, in some hope that it would cure him, but this seems crazy. He is worked up about this new found knowledge, as he mind starts thinking about his very own mother. He doesn’t crave sex, yet craves the answer to the mystery.

“Agostino’s first impulse was to withdraw quickly, but a new thought ‘She’s a woman,’ immediately stopped him, his hand still on the door handle, his eyes wide open. He could feel the whole of his former filial spirit rebel against the paralysis and pull away; but the new, timid yet strong spirit ruthlessly forced him to fix his reluctant eyes on a spot he would never have dared to set them the day before” (44)

 

Discussion Question:

Agostino ambitiously sets its aims on a compelling topic, growing up, how do you feel Moravia shows the drastic speed of Agostino’s maturity? Agostino is changed by the boys words on the beach, but how do you think he is truly understands the complex nature of human sexuality

 

Here is a painting of boys swimming by Peter Severin Krøyer called “Bathing Children”.  I think this picture encapsulates the sort of child-like wonder that Agostino would want.

01/29/24

A State of Temporary Limbo – The Shrouded Woman

“And now she desires nothing more than to remain there crucified to the earth, suffering and enjoying in her flesh the ebb and flow of distant, far distant tides; feeling the grass grow, new islands emerge, and on some other continent, the unknown flower bursting open that blooms only on a day of eclipse. And she even feels huge suns boiling and exploding and gigantic mountains of sand tumbling down, no one knows where” (259)

No matter how much you try, one cannot escape the cold grasp of death. It is a fate that Ana Maria so desperately tries to challenge. The “Shrouded Woman” is an unescapable march to the afterlife. The section of the novel presents itself as the tragic retelling of Ana Maria’s tragic life. The all around emotion of this book is despair. There are many instances of “what could have been” – the general structure of this book seeming like a final goodbye, which it is. At the beginning some may call Ana Maria whiny; exhibiting a general distain for life. However, reading deeper, Ana Maria’s life is that of a Shakespearean Tragedy.

Despair fills her entire view: her daughter-in-law dying by suicide; her husband “tolerating” her; the summer romance shared and never again fulfilled. “Isn’t it strange a love that can humiliate, can do nothing but humiliate” (205). Her hopeful wishes are torn down every chance; Ana Maria symbolically is hiding herself (shrouding) in gloom. 

Following the end of the story, we are shown a glimpse into Ana Maria’s relationship with god. This quote is a summary of her pain: “The Garden of Eden! Poor Ana Maria! Your whole life was nothing but a passionate search for that Garden of Eden, lost irretrievably, however, by man!” (254). She is cursed with the journey to find Eden; to find lust, desire, perhaps love. But, at every turn, she is tricked. She cannot find the garden because it has been overtaken by the selfish nature of man. Ricardo will never love her as she loved him; Antonio will always be resentful, barely tolerating his wife; and Fernando, the yearning of a true friend. 

 

Limbo: in an uncertain or undecided state or condition (Merriam-Webster)

This is where Ana Maria is, until the end of the novel. She teeters dead; on the edge of remembrance and disappearance. It is the fate of the Shrouded woman: to recount the live moments of her deadly life. She can rest, knowing that her second death is here.

“I swear it. The woman in the shroud did not feel the slightest desire to rise again. Alone, she would at last be able to rest, to die. For she had suffered the death of living. And now she longed for total immersion, for the second death, the death of the dead” (259)

 

Discussion Question:

The Shrouded Woman is a play on two meanings: one being literally shrouding herself (wrapping the woman up for death) and additionally shrouding the self (hiding from the world). Why do you think Bombal emphasizes this point so hard? It is a further commentary on death and life and the similarities between the two?

 

This painting I have here is one by Claude Monet entitled: “Camille Monet on her Deathbed”. It is a painting of his late wife who tragically died at 32. This painting represents the reality of death: corpses decay as death is inevitable. It is a painting of true despair