memory – span312c blog

The task of unraveling the intricate web of themes in Roberto Bolaño’s Distant Star proved to be quite challenging for me initially. Without the historical context in which the story is set, it was hard to fathom the significance of the novel’s central themes. However, my perplexity cleared up after watching the lecture that expounded on the story’s background, and I came to appreciate how Bolaño ingeniously interwove the themes of art and violence, as well as memory and trauma, to offer a fresh perspective on the relationship between art, politics, and culture.

Bolaño’s portrayal of Carlos Wieder’s transformation from an aspiring poet to a serial killer highlights the potential for art to inspire violence. Wieder’s gruesome acts were portrayed as an expression of his artistic vision, and Bolaño deftly showcased the powerful influence art can have on an individual’s actions. The military junta was also portrayed as a group of artists who use violence as their medium, censoring and repressing those who do not conform to their ideology. In doing so, Bolaño showed how closely intertwined the artistic and political spheres can be, and how art can be used to justify violence.

Memory is another theme explored in Distant Star, particularly through the lens of photography. Wieder’s obsession with the “process of killings” and his desire to capture their beauty through his photography is a central theme in the novel. Photography, like memory, is a way of preserving moments in time for the future. However, Bolaño also showcased how memory and photography can be distorted and manipulated. I believe the purpose of Wieder’s photographs was to serve as a form of propaganda, perpetuating the myth of the dictatorship’s success. In this way, Bolaño highlighted the power of memory and the dangers of allowing it to be controlled and manipulated.

Throughout the novella, Bolaño seamlessly blended the themes of art and politics, demonstrating how they can be both mutually reinforcing and destructive. His portrayal of the military junta as artists who use violence as their medium highlighted the potential for art to justify and propagate violence. Moreover, his exploration of memory through photography underscores the importance of preserving the truth and the danger of allowing history to be distorted and manipulated.

Question: In what ways does Bolaño’s exploration of memory through photography highlight the power of memory and the dangers of allowing it to be controlled and manipulated? How does this relate to our current societal context, where the manipulation of information and images has become increasingly prevalent?

Teresa de la Parra’s Mama Blanca’s Memoirs, with its interlaced filtered and unfiltered accounts of childhood memories, illuminated my own long-buried childhood memories. As I reached the end of the book, I found myself struggling to recall the last time I shared my own experiences with someone. I surmised that Mama Blanca’s motivation for creating “Portrait of Her Memories” was to preserve her untold stories for someone she held dear, someone, who would truly appreciate her offerings and fulfill her innate desire to tell her tales, which she knew her sons and daughters-in-law could not fulfill. Mama Blanca chose to express her memories through a serenely flowing river of words, much like how artists capture their wild imaginings in paintings, photographers capture moments through the click of a shutter, and musicians capture their emotions through harmoniously combined notes. I drifted down the river of her now-familiar stories, laughing and frowning as though I were a character within the tale.

As Mama Blanca discovers at the end of the book, “Change is the law of existence,” and “We should fold away our memories within ourselves without ever venturing to confront them with things and beings that life changes.” This realization left me feeling a sense of powerlessness and insignificance in Mama Blanca, whether it be a five-year-old, “uncivilized” girl who has never received formal education moving to Caracas, or simply one who is unable to return to the place they once called home. The ending of this book has left me with questions about the relationship between change and memories, and how to come to terms with feeling insignificant in the face of larger forces such as patriarchy and racial superiority that shape our lives, which I think are definitely worth contemplating.

Blanca’s “filtered” recollections of her initial encounters with Vicente Cochocho also sparked my curiosity. According to her description, their initial interaction was born out of a rebellious act against Evelyn’s command. The human tendency to shy away from that which is unsavory, akin to a three-year-old’s inclination to bestow a radiant smile only upon a relatively attractive individual, stirred within me an incessant ponderance of whether Blanca would have ever initiated a discourse with Vicente had it not been for the influence of Evelyn. This realization led me to wonder if Mama Blanca’s description of Vicente Cochocho in the book differs from her actual perception of him as a child.

Question: Does the acceptance of change mean we should let go of our past and memories? Is it possible to hold onto our past while still embracing change?