Tag Archives: sexuality

Week 13, Rivera Garza, “The Taiga Syndrome”

Cristina Rivera Garza’s The Taiga Syndrome was an eye-catching read, to say the least. It was adventurous and mysterious, while also difficult to understand what was going on at times. Simultaneously, the book also had some really resonating quotes that not only intensified the plot of the story, but also made me think—in more abstract terms—about life and our world.

To characterize both the beginning and ending of the story, each ends of the book were mysterious, in I had a strong yearning for more clarification. The very abstract quote written on the telegram, “’WHAT ARE WE LETTING IN WHEN WE SAY GOODBYE?’” was just the beginning of this growing curiosity. I questioned, “who exactly was this man, who hired the detective (our narrator)” and “who exactly is our narrator?” (p. 5). I just wanted to know more about the context—the place, people, and exact situation of the investigation—for my own sense of security. With the lack of this, I think I felt quite lost; I was questioning every advancement I made throughout the book, with a sense of excitement that came from the false hope that all my questions would be answered in a blockbuster ending.

This ‘blockbuster ending’ never occurred. However, the ending still gave me some chills. First of all, I wonder what exactly the ending of the story is. Does the book come to a proper closure? “At the foot of a volcano” (p. 119) is what left me an additional influx of questions. At first, I thought I was overthinking, but after going through the lecture, I think I was going towards the right direction with this book.

“This story that almost literally has no end is not only a fairy tale awry, but also a detective story whose poetics of failure point to the end of sovereignty without obviously establishing any alternatives. We can no longer even escape to the vanishing woods” (Rivera Garza Lecture, p. 1).

Like what Professor Jon stated, I also thought the book “almost literally has no end” (Rivera Garza Lecture, p. 1). In a literal sense, the quest to the Taiga forest the begun at the start of the book did come to an end, albeit a failed one. However, although I’m not sure exactly why, I keep getting a sense that there is something more left to the book; and Professor Jon’s quote—“Had his first wife really “died in an accident, years ago” as he is rather too quick to tell the narrator (15)? Is the detective missing the real case, right under her nose?”—added to this feeling (Rivera Garza Lecture, p.7).

Question: Personally, do you think the story came to a proper closure? Why do you think so? What makes a proper ‘ending’?

Week 9, Vargas Llosa, “Captain Pantoja and the Special Service”

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Mario Vargas Llosa’s Captain Pantoja and the Special Service was an eventful read. The book—both directly and indirectly—dealt with heavier themes of colonialism, discipline and control, sexuality, prostitution, and corruption, while simultaneously providing comedy.

The first thing that stood out to me was how corrupt the military was. This was most explicitly shown to me in Father Beltran’s statement, “’And do they call rape a ‘misfortune’ nowadays?’ […] ‘Because that’s what it was: rape’” (16). Additionally, the corruption was evident once more when General Victoria, despite acknowledging that “’what the recruits tried to do to the lady [was] very wrong,’ […] hedges, smiles, salutes” (18). While these two quotes got me confused whether or not this book was going to be comic or just straight up disturbing, the first instance of comedy came by from this quote: “It has to be the heat, the climate, don’t you think?” (18). This statement by Tiger Collazos just got me laughing in disbelief; it was an ‘are you serious?’ moment. In this way the comedy used by Vargas Llosa in this book seemed unconventional, definitely not the same type of comedy as used in regular comic books. At the same time, however, it didn’t also feel like the conventional ‘black humour’ either. In my opinion conventional black humour is more explicit—straight up making fun of a ‘dark event’—while the comedy in Captain Pantoja was more satirical.

Secondly, as a student currently enrolled in a Holocaust studies course, I found some parallels between the events and themes laid out by this book and those of the Holocaust—albeit on different degrees. A key theme of the book was abuse of power, which is also a central theme of the Holocaust. In both cases, those in power use their authority to exploit and oppress those who are vulnerable. In the book, Captain Pantoja’s project essentially commodifies women who work in the brothel; their welfare is of little concern to the military. Similarly, during the Holocaust, the Nazi regime used its power to systematically persecute and murder millions of Jews, Romani people, disabled individuals, and others deemed ‘undesirable’; the Nazis treated their victims as subhuman, and their welfare was of little concern to those in power. Moreover, Captain Pantoja’s attempt to defend himself with the “fact that he was only following orders” was a very similar behaviour shown by many German officers post-Holocaust (Vargas Llosa Lecture, p.8). After the events of the Holocaust, many German officials tried to justify their acts and avoid responsibility by stating they only did what they did because they were told to do so. To take this argument for its face value or disregard it is beyond the scope of my reflection today. However, connecting this book with the insight I have on the Holocaust made me reflect on how literature can be a powerful tool to explore complex and difficult—‘hard to speak’—topics.

Question: Did Vargas Llosa’s style of comedy work for you? Or were you more disturbed by it?

Week 4 – Neruda, “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair”

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Pablo Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair was a beautiful read. As I watched the lecture video before I read the book, I was able to set aside the controversies surrounding the author and focus solely on the work itself. Accordingly, I will only reflect on the work itself and the author as he is—directly or indirectly—represented within his work.

My first interest was the translation of Neruda’s poems. Although the English version was beautiful, resonating, and—at times—heartbreaking, I constantly wonder how accurate W. S. Merwin’s translations are. I have no doubt that Merwin is a superb translator; however, there are words, tones, and nuances that just cannot be translated accurately. Moreover, translation in itself is a new form of representation; the translator ultimately decides—based on his own perspective—what words fit best for a certain translation. I wonder how different Neruda’s untranslated version is from the English version.

Throughout the chapters, I found it interesting that I kept reading with an emphasis on the words “I” and “My.” Throughout the first half of the book, the narrator uses the words “I” and “My” a lot. This tendency is only disrupted in chapter 4, when the tone shifts—as if the poem was addressed to a third person, many uses of “our” and “her” instead of “I” and “My.” In line with the lecture, the fact that I kept reading with an emphasis on these words revealed to me that these poems are extremely one-sided—as in, it only shows ‘his’ side of the love story. Reasonably inferring that this is a heterosexual relationship, ‘her’ perspective is nowhere to be found. Even in places where we might be able to assume ‘her’ perspective, that too is a conscious representation of the male narrator. Relating back to the idea that “history is written by the victors,” these poems were written by one side of a two-way relationship. This left me wondering what she might think of these poems… Considering the frequent mentioning of a “toy doll” and the overall desperation/ resentment shown by the narrator, I wouldn’t be too pleased to read the work if I was ‘her’.

Solely as a literary work, this book is just mesmerizing. The quality of the poems (lines, rhymes, metaphors, imagery, etc.) are just amazing. I am not so much into poetry but some lines just resonated with me. My top two favourites were: “I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees” (46-47); “The biggest stars look at me with your eyes” (58). As a poetic work, I think there are multiple ways the reader can approach this book. Whether that is to take it in face-value or try to find some ‘hidden message’ (perhaps a political message), these different approaches would entail different interpretations. I think that is the beauty of poetry—and literature in general.

Question: What is your most favourite line or phrase from the poems in the book?