Week 13 – The Taiga Syndrome

We’ve reached the end of the course, and we’ve done it at perhaps the perfect place: the end of the world. This book was quite a journey for me, something very different and outside of the normal realm of ‘fiction’ I am used to, but I think this oddness contributed to me enjoying it so much. Rivera Garza’s prose is never really straightforward, blending first person accounts of the present, with breadcrumb-like hints of our story’s past. Her use of specific words — “that” comes to mind — and repetition makes for something that functions simultaneously as a novel and a creative exercise, something truly original yet rooted in classic fairy tales.

Being a fan of cinema, I pictured a lot of this book in my head with vivd imagery. Rivera Garza’s descriptions made for haunting, fully-fleshed out images in my head, complete with eerie ambience and sometimes music. I attribute a lot of this to the overall atmosphere, something Rivera Garza mentions in her interview with Jon. From the first page, the atmosphere was the thing that stuck out the most for me. It was deep, dark, wicked, hazy, foggy, damp, enchanting (I like adjectives, can you tell?). Having such a strong tone for a book lets the other events unfold naturally, because you know the world in which events are unfolding. I was better able to create images of these people, their faces expressions, and voices because I knew how the book felt. But, as mentioned in lecture, I never truly knew where I was.

This is a book that deals a lot with location (or dislocation), with never knowing where you are, with being lost (physically and perhaps mentally). It poses some interesting questions: where, exactly, is our detective from? What is the taiga? Is it a real place? Thinking too hard about the specificities of the Taiga may make people begin to believe it is made up — perhaps we start to think about this book as magical realism, but is that really the ‘right’ approach?

I think the lecture question of what makes this a ‘Latin American’ novel is quite interesting to contemplate. Do we assume that just because the author is Mexican the book is automatically Latin American? And if we do, does that mean we automatically situate all the events in Latin America? I think that is too constrictive. Other books we’ve read specify the location of items, but this book leaves much up to the imagination, I believe purposefully. The inside of the Taiga is mysterious, so why can’t its location be as well?

There are so many other themes in this book to discuss — sex, identity, to name a few — and I’m grateful I got the opportunity to read and discuss it. It’s a book that, even if I forget a lot of the plot or my understanding is muddled, I can always vividly see the setting and feeling in my brain.

Question: is this book truly Latin American literature to you? What makes it so, or keeps it from being?

For anyone interested, here are some movies this book reminded me of or made me think of: Annihilation (2018), Enemy (2013), Children of Men (2006).

« »

Spam prevention powered by Akismet