Tag Archives: love

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

 

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/

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

01/22/24

Nadja – A State of Delusion or of Reflection?

“I am the soul in Limbo” (71)

Considered one of the earliest surrealist romance books, Nadja is chock-full of wonder. Flipping through this short recollection of a haunting memory, every page tells a fragment of this mystery. Who was Nadja? And, was she truly real? 

Some quick research and Nadja is actually Léona Camille Ghislaine Delcourt. However, I will focus on Nadja within these pages. Nadja isn’t introduced until page 60, yet Breton finds himself entranced with her. Her surrealist way of living, as if she were living above us all. It reflects the quote at the top–Nadja is a mystery who believes herself to be living in a forgotten world (limbo). But this forgotten world is the normal one that does not exist in her daydreams. One may call her delusional, but in reality, she seems to be the most interesting woman Breton has ever seen. 

With the various pictures attached to these memories, it is almost as if Breton is trying to prove to himself that Nadja was real or show proof that she is haunting his mind. Nadja can be considered a state of mind, a cautionary tale of overindulgence. She feeds into Breton’s ego, existing as a complementary figure in his imagination. 

Does it truly matter if Nadja was real? She exists in many causes to reaffirm Breton. He is fading away, whether this be in his work or life. It exists in the tortured soul of many artists that many do not understand you. What if Nadja was a remedy for self-reflection? It’s tricky to determine the exact truth of this novel, but for me, it felt that Nadja existed to examine Breton’s disconnect from the world. 

Nadja’s fate is to be confined to a psychiatric institution, and Breton seems dull about this. Her carefree worldview could have been that of a delusion, one that Breton finds unnecessary to put her away. But her disappearance is what creates the longing to remember her. Whether or not she existed, Breton felt a deep connection that will forever be lost. The limits of surrealism in the real world are what Breton must come to imagine. Nadja’s once visionary surrealist mindset slowly descends into madness. When noticing the man on top of the train, Breton can begin to feed into her disillusions (or perhaps his own). However, he does not stay like this forever. Nadja must be taken away, and Breton will be alone (despite having a wife, but cast that aside for a moment). It is a devastating tale that many find themselves plagued in: a regular tale of star–crossed lovers. 

“Beauty will be convulsive or will not be at all.” (160)

 

Discussion Question:

Nadja is a book that borders on fiction and non-fiction, its photographs reaffirm Breton’s memories but Nadja herself remains an enigma. However, she exists to teach Breton valuable lessons–acting as a sort of fable. Narratively, what do you think Nadja’s role in this book is? Was she simply a woman who he could connect with who wasn’t his wife? Or perhaps did she serve a purpose in the fundamental character of Breton?

 

One of my favourite surrealist paintings would be “Tête de Femme” (Head of Woman) by Pablo Picasso. Despite him being a prominent cubism painter, he did dabble in surrealism