10/7/21

When Will they Get it Right 

What struck me with interest was the difference between the lawyer and the police. Both were in a position of power to influence the lives of people yet only one was concerned with the lives themselves. So what caused this difference? 

First, let us note that the defense lawyer, Miguel Prado, seemed to be the only character who empathized with the victims of the crime. He was the only one who did not delight himself in the amusement of the tragic case at any point, unlike Zozaya. Furthermore, Miguel was helping the family (Lupe and Juan) deal with their case when it was obvious that they would not have enough money to pay for his service, as they could not even afford to buy many more simple things. Meanwhile, the police with far more resources than Miguel, demonstrated a lack of care to provide the victims and suspect with a non-negligent level of work for their case; such is an abuse of power.

Hence, one can conclude that when authority is not submitted to the needs of the people in their jurisdiction, they will use the people to serve themselves. Miguel was the only character that was concerned with benefiting the family of the victim and his client; he was submitted to their needs. Ultimately, this small piece of literature can be interpreted as a commentary for the larger scale leadership of the country and government. Possibly that the government in Mexico in that era was mostly concerned with profiting themselves using what resources they had (such as the people) to the extent that the people themselves suffered as shown through the living circumstance of Lupe’s family. Only leads one to ask; when will they get it right.

10/6/21

Dostoyevsky and Borges: Detective Fiction

When reading Luis Borges’ “Death and the Compass” I was immediately struck by the stylistic similarities to Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s detective novels. Dostoyevsky, like Poe, was an early contributor to the genre writing several murder mysteries such as “The Brothers Karamazov” and “Crime and Punishment.” Both Borges and Dostoyevsky use a similarly mysterious and cerebral tone as well as an active narrator who occasionally inserts himself into the narrative. For the comparison of the two authors, I wanted to look more at the narrative style of metafiction. In “Death and the Compass” the narrator adds external commentary towards the end of the short story creating a feeling of an anonymous witness or observer to the crime. Dostoyevsky employs a similar technique in his novel “The Brother’s Karamazov” where the reader is unaware that they have been reading a court disposition until almost the very end. In turn, the reader occasionally stumbles across the first person in a way that feels related to Borges’ approach to metafiction.

Borges seems to have been inspired by Dostoyevsky saying ” Like the discovery of love, like the discovery of the sea, the discovery of Dostoevsky marks an important date in one’s life.” I think that the similarities between the authors lend to the similarities in their writing. Both were writing for a non-English speaker audience, who are often more widely associated with the detective fiction genre. Both men also lived under repressive governments and their literature was subject to scrutiny and in the case of Dostoyevsky, even exile. I think that maybe the detective fiction genre allowed both authors the ability to examine and comment on human nature, the state, and morality.

10/6/21

You can not trust even those who “protect” you

This reading definitely made me feel like a detective, every time I was trying to deduce who was the real murderer of Rosa, first the husband, then the wife, the neighbors, Rosa’s boyfriend, and until the end when I realized it was the policeman, it was surprising but at the same time, it left me with the thought that it has a back story. 

I was at the edge trying to figure out why would someone kill Rosa, it never crossed my mind that the murderer would be the one that should be looking out for the killer. 

It had the typical figures in a detective short story,  multiple diversions of who the killer really is (the husband disappearing, the wife taking more time than normal in their errands, a jealous boyfriend, etc.), tons of clues laid out, a surprise ending. (A different point of view in comparison to Borges style). 

But there is one particular aspect I want to focus on, which is that the author uses this story to allude to the ongoing corruption in Mexico. In a fair and normal place, the police are the ones you go to when you need help, it’s their job to care for your wellbeing, in Mexico it’s the other way around, why would you ask someone for help when they are the first ones to commit and cover-up those crimes. Not only does the author leave us with this exciting story with an unexpected ending, but she also infers that a policeman has the power to get away with everything even murder.

10/6/21

Spatial Inequality and Access to Justice: A Cross Comparison between Parasite (2019) and “The Puzzle of the Broken Watch”

Parasite (2019) is a Korean film directed by Bong Joon-ho. It follows attempts to class mobility by a lower-class Korean family. Although quite different genres, “The Puzzle of the Broken Watch” and Parasite explore spatial inequality through their surroundings and how those living in ‘slums’ access justice and navigate daily life institutions in unequal ways. 

In Parasite, the Kim’s home undergoes a fumigation leak, a man urinating in front of their family unit, and a disastrous inundation. Later, even at the shelter after losing their home to the rain, the conditions are inhumane, with the State’s unpreparedness to offer help to its lower-class citizens. Hence, the Kim family’s environment tells us how they experience neglect due to their economic status. In contrast, the Park family sees the rain as a blessing because the State has invested infrastructure into their area. 

In “The Puzzle of the Broken Watch,” class relations are not as explicit, but are still embedded within the narration of Juan’s neighbourhood and his dishonest arrest. Atlampa is a working-class neighbourhood in Mexico City, a city defined by its social stratification. Juan’s daily context is described as: “tenements which characterized the older, poorer Mexico … ravaged by the years … crowded with tables, assorted junk … improvised partition of bedspreads and sarapes” (pg. 4-5). Furthermore, there is constant neighbourhood vigilance, but this is not as to benefit each other. Instead, when needed, people keep silent to appease people in power (ex. gossiping ladies silence on Ismael). Ismael, a policeman and worker of the Mexican State, asserted his power against the neighbourhood, as they know if they speak on injustice, they will just be met with consequences. Juan’s unequal spatial context made him vulnerable to being framed in the first place. Ismael knew that Juan’s positionality within society was less valid than his. And had it not been for the willingness of the detective, Juan would have likely not gained justice. Or at least we assume he does, as the story ends without conclusion on Juan’s case. Additionally, it is interesting that when the detectives are looking at other plausible perpetrators, it is all working class people until they get to the murderer, perhaps representing their interchangeability.

Within both works, we see Mexican and Korean societal structures, given legitimacy by the State, keep cycles of exploitation and marginalization as to obstruct the working-class from obtaining justice. Both States deliberately fail to protect the working class, as they are seen as expendable. Their lives are not as valuable, and their spatial surroundings represent the lack of dignity that is assigned unto their identities. The States’ structures are built only for those who can afford freedom. Everyone else is in a state of survival, trying not to fall victim to the States’ corruption and negligence. Through a spatial context, both stories explore levels justice recognition. 

10/4/21

Detectives and Devices

This weeks’ readings were so rich with literary devices I felt almost overwhelmed! One of the first things I noticed about both readings was the use of direct imagery. While Arias’s Funeral for a Bird and even Ak’abal’s poems used imagery kind of indirectly (very open to interpretation by the reader), Borges and Bermúdes explicitly describe scenes. For example, Borges describes the second scene of the crime: “the city crumbled away; the sky expanded, and now houses held less and less importance… they came to their miserable destination; a final alleyway lined with pink-coloured walls that somehow seemed to reflect the rambunctious setting of the sun” (149-150). I think what this does is make the reader so invested in every detail in the story that they can be an active participant in decoding the crime, paying attention to nuances and how they might fit into the narrative.

Another particular literary device that stood out to me (and that I had to google) was internal dialogue, the example of which is when Lönrott thinks, the house is not so large… It seems larger because of its dimness, its symmetry, its mirrors, its age, my unfamiliarity with it, and my solitude. Internal dialogue uses italics to distinguish the character’s thoughts from speech. This is the first time it is used in the entire text, and places us right in Lönrott’s head, emphasizing the fact that he was alone in this big house with nothing but his thoughts. This, for me, created suspense and a bit of fear.

One final literary device that I wanted to point out was allusion, which Death and the Compass was especially rich in. Example/Question: Red Scharlach describes how Daniel Azevedo stabbed Yarmolinsky in the chest, and says, “the movement was almost reflexive; a half century of violence had taught him that the easiest and safest way is simply to kill…” (155) I’m not sure what he’s referring to here, perhaps someone with a better knowledge of the location/context of the story can help me out!

09/26/21

Religious Critiques and Their Effects

I find his critique on Colonialism in the Paradise text to be very profound. I can see this becoming very controversial for the time. I am curious to hear other students’ perspectives on the matter. Do you think its parallels would have warranted a reaction similar to that of Paradise Lost (A text famous for its critique on the bible, God, and the fall of Lucifer) or other critiques of the religion? I think its main difference with Paradise lost is that it’s not directly critiquing the bible, rather the people who are colonizing their culture and changing their paradise for the worse in the name of God. It does a good job of pointing out the irony of holiness in this type of setting. I could see the lines where he refers to the colonizers as “serpents [who] spoke, forbade the fruit and decided paradise among themselves” could be a particularly divisive statement as a snake is considered to be a representation of the devil. It also indirectly brings to light the idea of religious freedom. As much as it is their right to practice Christianity it is also the right of the “Indio” to freely embrace their paradise in order to embrace their spirituality. Why should religious freedom be only applicable to Christians at the expense of Native Americans? I hope the effect of this poem did manage to provide a meaningful critique that hopefully some Christians at the time took to heart and convinced them to become supporters of indigenous beliefs, despite their differences. 

09/24/21

On Ak’abal’s “In the K’iche Language”

Situated on a section of its own, Humberto Ak’abal’s poem “In the K’iche Language” provides an interesting framework for the rest of the collection. It is the only poem we read from this collection that is not part of the “500 Years” section. In fact, it is separated from the rest of the poems and has its own accompanying image, which displays a Guatemalan cemetery. The image depicts different cells of people celebrating around graves. When studying it, it is difficult not to recall the “Dia de Los Muertos” tradition generally thought to be Mexican. However, this tradition originates from some parts of Mayan culture, from the ceremony by the name of ‘Hanal Pixan’. Hanal Pixan is a day where families gather and spend the day celebrating with the spirits of their deceased loved ones. It is a tradition that looks at death not as a finality, but as a part of life. Having this image before the “In the K’iche Language” poem makes perfect sense. The poem itself is very simple, it has two verses, four lines, and has a very clear message. “In the K’iche Language/ we don’t say good-bye/ but katinch’ab’ej chik/ (I’ll talk to you again),” (page 152) When paired along with the image beforehand, this way of saying goodbye sheds some light into how Ak’abal’s culture addresses death and the impermanence of things. It seems that to them things don’t end, and it is expected to see things again. Going back to the placement of the poem in the collection, I think it’s interesting to keep in mind what follows it. The next section, 500 Years, is entirely about the effect of colonialism on Indigenous cultures, and most of the poems in it discuss the subsequent plight on them. I think that “In the K’iche Language” and its placement in the section before, could be interepreted as Ak’abal’s way of saying:”We’re still here, and we’re gonna stay here. Despite everything.” It gives some hope to the 500 Years section, in retrospect.

09/24/21

Who Sold The Rain? (We Did)

In Carmen Naranjo’s And We Sold the Rain, I find there to be an interesting connection between the use of the third-person plural (particularly in the title), and the removal of the country’s natural resources. Throughout the work, the ineptitude and greed of the higher ups is constantly satirized and ridiculed, even from the first line; “This is a royal fuck-up”(page 1). The country is plundered for all its worth, and countless mechanisms and cycles are catastrophically damaged. In these descriptions, the work singles out both foreign and domestic culprits, though undeniably it is the multinational influence that is portrayed as the true evil, whereas the local corruption simply allows or permits for such evil.  What is most interesting, however, is to see how the work uses “we”. Other than the title, there is only one occasion where the third-person plural is used by the voice of the essay and not in citation; the moment where this “we” laments what the country had once been.

This causes me to question the title of the work, why the use of “we”, and who exactly is “we”? Though it may seem obvious that “we” refers to the writer and their country, in the work itself, “we” only comes into play from the perspective of the working class, and is otherwise merely recalling what a higher-up or a newspaper was saying, and their use of “we” comes across as dishonest and detached due to their obviously privileged position. Why then, is it used in the title? It seems to me like this reflects that, despite all the protests and complaints the author has for the country’s public officials, they still recognize them as part of the same group. It might seem like this is inevitable, but in my personal experience, many radically-minded Canadians tend not to refer to Canada as a “we”, especially when discussing the government itself or our international presence. It is certainly possible to avoid using “we” for one’s own people, so I find the use of it in the title (and almost exclusively there) quite interesting.

09/24/21

Magical Realism and Government Corruption

Elements of magical realism are juxtaposed with harsh realities in Carmen Naranjo’s short story “And We Sold the Rain” to portray the corruption of a developing nation’s government in a sardonic, satirical tone. In an attempt to escape its debilitating debt, the president of an unnamed Latin American country looks to unconventional methods of procuring funds. We can immediately grasp how unfairly the situation affects lower class citizens, and see the government’s inclination to ignore their struggle for their own gain.

The nation’s worsening conditions are evident: some neighbourhoods must now contend with the rising price of water bills and increased rates of violent crime, whereas others, characterized by “a whole alphabet of trade names of gleaming new cars” (151), are more distressed at their inability to travel to exotic destinations. The government considers various proposals, from imposing a tax on the air (151), to praying to patron saints (150), to creating a transnational aqueduct system to aid in selling their only remaining natural commodity: rainwater. They end up implementing this final idea, and while citizens are initially supportive of the rain funnels, the lack of precipitation soon destroys their beautiful “green” (153) land, leaving them with even less than before. It is at this point that people begin to travel through the aqueducts in hopes of finding a better life on the other side, and while they do for a short while, the final paragraph hints at the cycle beginning again.

Though the ideas of air taxes and rain funnels are implausible in the real world, it is precisely their comical nature alongside the sarcastic narration that allows readers to better understand how willing a government can be to exploit every last drop that their country can offer in order to rake more money in, even when it comes at the cost of losing the very people that make up the country.

09/23/21

A Hopeful Ending

In Ak’abal’s collection of poems, the section entitled “500 años” or “500 years” offers readers a complete storyline through a number of poems. Ak’abal introduces us to this story with the poem titled the same as the section, “500 years”. This poem gives us a context for the section, one critical of the treatment and status of Indigenous peoples. “500 years”, “pain”, and “holes” work together to paint a picture of the injustice (p 155, line 5), misery (p 157, line 1), and poverty (p 162, line 4) experienced by Indigenous people, and by Ak’abal. The poem titled “paradise” enlightens us to the cause of this mistreatment of Indigenous people, colonization. This particular poem begins with a description of a world of paradise, without sin, but soon transitions to a world of violence where the powerful enforce their will on others (page 159).

These poems give us the beginning and the middle of a story of colonization and oppression. However, the final poem of the section “the lamb” leaves me thinking there is hope for this story. This final poem speaks of a lamb and a shepherdess, as the shepherdess licks the lambs wound (page 163). As Ak’abal ended this section with this poem, I am left thinking that the lamb represents the oppressed Indigenous people, and the shepherdess represents a more abstract idea of hope, or freedom, or justice. His choice of finishing this section that is filled with a depiction of the creation and perpetuation of the minority status of Indigenous people with a poem of healing and comfort reveals an intent to rewrite the end of a story of oppression and change it into one of hope.