Tag Archives: perspective

Roberto Bolano, “Amulet”

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amulet (noun): a charm (such as an ornament) often inscribed with a magic incantation or symbol to aid the wearer or protect against evil (such as disease or witchcraft)

Amulet follows Auxilio Lacouture, a woman trapped in the women’s bathroom of a university while it is being taken over by the military in response to a student movement. Perhaps the most intriguing choice of this novel is how Bolano anchors the perspective in the women’s bathroom in 1968, where Auxilio is hiding, yet time and memory move both backward and forward as well. Auxilio, isolated in the women’s bathroom, cold and hungry, begins to see moments of the future. People enter Auxilio’s life and disappear, but are never truly forgotten.

One of the more intriguing characters is Arturito Belano, a Chilean poet who befriends Auxilio and later returns to Chile to take part in the revolution against Pinochet. When he returns, he is irrevocably changed by the horrors he has seen and experienced. Just like everyone else, Arturito disappears from Auxilio’s life, and she has no idea where he has gone.

I think memory and death are important themes in this book, but not in the way it was in say, Proust or Bombal. It’s not so much just about the memories of Auxilio herself, but her memories of an entire generation. The final chapter captures it most clearly:

“But what kind of love could they have known. I wondered when they were gone from the valley, leaving only their song resonating in my ears. The love of their parents, the love of their dogs and cats, the love of their toys, but above all the love, the desire and the pleasure they shared with one another.

And although the song that I heard was about war, about the heroic deeds of a whole generation of young Latin Americans led to sacrifice, I knew that above and beyond all, it was about courage and mirrors, desire and pleasure.

And that song is our amulet.” (p.184)

Auxilio is the “mother of Mexican Poetry”, a protector and guardian. While she never physically protects any of her “children”, she does protect the memory of a generation. She is the mother of all the young poets. And it is a kind of courage of a generation that is being remembered and will protect others to come.

Bit of a shorter post this time. I have to say that this novel was a little bit confusing because of the perspective. Just like other novels in the course, time bends all over the place and there is lots of metaphysical imagery.

My question for this post would be: What is the “amulet” and what does it protect us from?

 

Maria Luisa Bombal, “The Shrouded Woman”

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The Shrouded Woman was a wonderful read. The unorthodox use of perspective, at times adopting the first-person viewpoint of the dead Ana Maria, and at other times taking a third-person viewpoint, makes for an interesting retrospective on the life of the character. By seeing it through Ana Maria’s eyes, we get to experience her life, her suffering, her mistakes and her regrets. Indeed, the story itself was quite saddening as nobody is really happy in this story. Everybody faces misfortune, misunderstandings, hardship, heartbreak, and/or jealousy. And yet, the story ends with catharsis as Ana Maria seems to come to terms with the end of her life; the finality of it is a break from the suffering of living. She is ready for the final end, the “second death”, the “death of the dead”.

I find it interesting how the characters of this story are portrayed. As mentioned before, nobody is ever truly happy. The women are often portrayed as vain, or jealous. The men as cowardly, foolish, or selfish. People envy each other throughout the story: everyone envies or desires Maria Griselda for her impossible beauty; Sofia envies Ana Maria for the happiness of her childhood; Antonio envies Ricardo for possessing the heart of Ana Maria even though she has married Antonio. It is as if living only brings suffering and lost opportunities. Love does not persevere, except only in death.

Death is central to this story. After all, the narrator herself is dead. It seems that only in death can Ana Maria tie up the loose ends in her life. She finally understands the true love between her and Ricardo (“Must we die in order to know?”, 176). In death, she comes to Sofia in a dream, and forgives her (“… that an almost forgotten friend has come to her in death to tell her she was forgiven”, 248).  In death, she finally sees her daughter’s full expression of love (“You see, you see how death can also be an act of life.”, 249). And her final goodbye is to the priest, in whose faith (not just in God, but in her) she finds solace in her final transition. As a side note, it is interesting that Silvia takes her own life in the same way that Ana Maria attempted to, and both out of heartbreak. Yet Silvia is the one with the “courage” to follow through, while Ana Maria couldn’t bring herself to do it. Is it courageous to escape, and would Ana Maria have spared herself a lifetime of suffering?

Overall, it was an interesting perspective on life and death. If we could, upon passing, reflect on the entirety of our lives before we finally move on, how would we come to terms with everything we have done? Is death the only liberation from the burdens of life?

There was also something more about the role of women in this. Women are portrayed so vain and jealous, and the strong women like Elena and Anita have their strength seemingly as negative traits. I don’t know what to make of it though. Perhaps it speaks of the role of women of the time?

My question for this blog post is, what is the significance of having the narrator already be dead, rather than, say, dying? Why does the perspective sometimes shift between first and third person?

 

Some noteworthy quotes I wrote down:

  • “That is the price that women like Elena must pay for their liberty” (182);
  • “Must we die in order to know?” (176)
  • “God, I’m beginning to think that to be so beautiful is a misfortune, like any other” (193);
  • “She had let him into the intimacies of her life and she was not strong enough to cast him out” (206)
  • “Why, oh, why, must a woman’s nature be such that a man has always to be the pivot of her life?” (226)
  • “You see, you see how death can also be an act of life.” (249)
  • “Oh Lord, the waters have not yet closed over her head and things are already changing; life is pursuing its course in spite of her, without her.” (250)

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