Author Archives: DanielleFriesen

11/6/21

Journalistic Integrity & its Consequences

Ricardo Piglia’s “Crazy Woman and the Tale of the Crime” is a short story interested in untouchable higher-ups and those who wish to expose them. I found this story both difficult to comprehend and extremely captivating. Piglia’s decision to have the titular “Crazy Woman” be the key to the solving of the crime is very interesting. In a sense, this decision sets the fictional detectives up for failure. The Crazy Woman proves to be somewhat of an unreliable narrator- her speech occurs in a sort of stream of consciousness rant, and we are predisposed to distrust her based on the fact the she is seemingly homeless and literally described as crazy. Unfortunately, it is keeping up appearances that society holds most dear, and this poor possibly unbalanced woman is no match for Almada’s arrogance and elevated societal position. Even once Anahi is proven to be onto something with her information- that Almada really is the murderer- the journalist Renzi is forcefully encouraged to look the other way. The understanding is that if he isn’t killed for reporting on this issue, he will be fired, and having no job will be the least of his worries.

This story is a tragic reminder of the casualties that occur in the search for the truth. Many journalists are killed or imprisoned for getting too close to the truth of what is really happening. We see this occur all over the world, and many individuals are forced to make a choice: are they willing to die for their pursuit of truth? This is too big of a price to pay, and it should not ever have to be asked, but the reality is, just like in Piglia’s story, criminals are protected by powerful people with many resources. It is a bleak reminder of the state of our present, and of our future if corruption and bribery are not dealt with swiftly and severely.

11/5/21

A Broken Watch, Broken Trust, and Police Corruption

Maria Elvira Bermudez’ short story “The Puzzle of the Broken Watch” is a reflection on corruption within the police and government states. I’m not sure if this was me being too much of an armchair detective, but I found myself ruminating over the title of this story. A police force is supposed to watch over the general population in which they preside. Is Bermudez embarking on her story by telling her readers that the police watch is broken and not functioning properly? If we are to run with this explanation, the duplicate watch in the story becomes even more interesting. The watch in the story is the clue that allows the crime to be solved, and the two watches seem to imply that there are two sides to the police force as well. There is the public side, which seems to function as intended, but really was manipulated to look as if it was effective. We can see this reflected in Ismael, a trusted family friend and respected police officer who turns out to be the murderer. Not only did he murder Rosa, but he also did it in an incredibly calculated manner. If you cannot trust the police, who can you trust? In a real world setting, I see this mirrored in the tragic murder of George Floyd in the United States. George Floyd was murdered by the very individuals who were supposed to protect him. If corruption is rampant within a government body, mistrust will permeate citizens of that country. If those who are seemingly trained to uphold the law only persist in breaking it for their own personal gain, there can be no trust.

11/5/21

Colonial Serpents

Humberto Ak’abal’s poem “Paradise” references the Biblical book of Genesis and the story of the garden of Eden. When I read this poem, I interpreted the serpents as colonizers and colonial entities. Ak’abal writes that “there was no forbidden fruit/the snakes were mute” (3-4). Before the colonizers, life was paradise. The “fruit” could be interpreted as traditional indigenous cultural practices. Therefore, once the serpents spoke, they “forbade the fruit and divided paradise among themselves” (10-12) can be understood as the banning of indigenous culture in favour of assimilation. No longer does the land belong to the indigenous people, it was forcefully taken by colonial forces who gave little thought to the rightful owners of the land. This reminded me of the Canadian government and Catholic Church’s program of residential schools in Canada. The purpose was to “kill the Indian within the child”, and to assimilate into so-called “civilized” white society. Ak’abal seems to be lamenting the interventionist practices of colonial settlers, and reminiscing over times when the land belonged to the Indigenous peoples, who treated it with respect. Land is more than just a “resource”, it is also a family member in many Indigenous cultures. Paradise can only last as long as it is not infected by colonial greed.

11/5/21

Viscera & Violence

In reading excerpts of Cristina Rivera Garza’s Grieving, I was drawn to the essay entitled “The Visceraless State”. Admittedly, I had to look up the word “visceraless” or “viscera” to ensure I was understanding Rivera Garza’s commentary properly. Viscera, by definition, refers to the internal organs in the main cavities of the body, like the heart, lungs, liver, pancreas, and intestines. This got me thinking more critically about the content of “The Visceraless State”. In titling her essay in this manner, Rivera Garza is alluding to the fact that Mexico is a body, but it lacks the necessary parts to allow it to function properly. Mexico is operating without heart, without lungs, without its liver. Anatomically, the heart pumps blood throughout the body, allowing your body to function as intended. Your lungs provide oxygen to your brain, allowing it to work properly, and your liver helps filter toxins from your body and keep you healthy. If Mexico is a visceraless state, it lacks everything it needs to function properly, and therefore doesn’t.

Senorita Signatory’s medical distress being unanswered and unassisted is an allegory for the function of the country of Mexico. The government cannot function properly due to its corruption and it being overwhelmed by the so-called war on drugs, that it lacks its ability to care for its population properly- its human body population. Without heart, a government which believes in its ability to solve this crisis, without lungs, the tools which can combat the guerilla warfare that is endemic to the country, and without liver, the dismantling of toxic and dangerous entities that prevent the body of Mexico from governing as it should, the body is doomed to be a visceraless state. This analogy is so profound, and I have to wonder if I was the only one who didn’t catch the full effect of the title at first. Like her other excerpts, Rivera Garza’s masterful choice of words leads her to comment on not only a single entity, but a collective state. Rivera Garza’s sister’s femicide is deeply personal to her, but is also widespread and relatable. Senorita Signatory’s medical wishes for her organs is intimately her own, but also a symptom is a more widely-spread issue.

10/29/21

Broken by the West

“She abandons herself to the pulling sensation, to the delicious feeling of fingers that don’t want to break anything of hers, that want to leave her hair beautiful and radiant for the west wind to play with and make her a woman.” (Santos-Febres, 6).

This passage from Mayra Santos-Febres short story “Broken Strands” evokes several of the major themes within the story. I was struck by the image of “fingers that don’t want to break anything of hers” (6) which allude to the epidemic of broken noses of women in Trastalleres. This depiction of pain (“pulling sensation” (6)) seems to be a pleasurable pain, because the outcome allows Yetsaida to conform and uphold idealized White and western standards of beauty she so desperately craves. This is illustrated by the “west wind” (6) that will play with [her hair] and make her a woman” (6). Ironically, continued use of heat treatments like straightening often cause permanent damage, or breakage, to hair, leading the hair’s owner to eventually have to cut it short, and begin growing it out again. The beautiful, straight hair she craves is actually the broken hair, and her natural hair is the unblemished, perfect one. This is confirmed to the reader on page 5, with Miss Kety saying “Oh, these roots, girl. Your hair’s gonna break right off. Look at all these broken strands.” The broken noses are evidence of physical abuse against the women, just as the broken hair a sign of abuse, too. However, beyond the physical damage to each strand of hair, the broken strands signify the internalized racism and struggle to conform to western beauty standards that the women of Puerto Rico experience. This dichotomy of physical pain versus emotional pain is visible on the faces and heads of each woman who has experienced abuse.