Now that I’ve finished the book, I can definitely say that my opinions about it have drastically changed since reading the first half. I found complete changes and of course similarities in the style and form in which Cisneros brings these stories in the second half to life. Her creativeness, attention to detail and absurd way of writing actually astounded me, rather than annoying me like it did in the beginning. Anyway, I’ll begin, as there it so much which can be said about this book!

I found the “Eyes of Zapata” to be the most curious of all the stories. It stuck out from the whole book because, although it was the same in the sense that it spoke of a woman and her experience with a man (like most of the stories did) it had a completely different impact on me, as I’m sure it did for many of you (?). Obviously Cisneros was not alive during the revolution, so we can assume that this story was not about her. From this a few interesting things pop out. On the one hand, how on earth can she describe with such passion the situation of this woman during the Mexican revolution (Emiliano Zapata’s mistress…I think) without having any sort of personal connection to her. On the other hand, she mentions her last name (Cisneros) as a man involved in the revolution, bringing us to guess that she has some sort of family tie to the revolution which she is perhaps quite aware of. I would guess that she (Cisneros) is most probably a Zapatista, and she, relating her experiences and hardships with men, decided to express what it was like for Chicana women during the revolution, and that no matter how famous or “sucessful” your husband was, they all face the same or somewhat similar issues. She describes a universal issue by highlighting the experience of a woman involved with one of the most famous Mexican revolutionaries. I’m going to go a little deeper and say that I believe she is trying to say something about Contemporary Mexico. Obviously people wonder “Why Mexico?” “Why so many problems?” Poverty, corruption, etc, the list goes on…I think she is focusing on Mexican society in addition to a man-woman interaction. If Emiliano Zapata, one the most praised revolutionary men in the Mexico is treating a woman like that, what does it say about the country?

“Bien Pretty” the second and conluding story in the book definitely merits some attention as well. Cisneros documents the experience of a Californian artist who courageously moves to Texas, almost to leave her past behind. In this case, I think it’s interesting how she describes her possessions which she takes with her in her truck having all came from different parts of the world. She automatically shows us that this Chicana is an established American who clearly is very knowlegeable and conforms to the upper class. A true San Franciscan. I believe Cisneros highlights this womans life and experience as a way to embrace diversity as an essential component in the way she describes these different Chicana women. I love the way she compares language to love, and how it comes into play during the relationship between Lupe and Flavio. She says “I’ve never made love in Spanish before” (Pg 153) I think this whole page says a lot about communication and the culture barrier between these two people who share common hertiage, but lead such different lives. Is their common bond their Mexican roots? I would think not, seeing as Cisneros almost seems to consider herself a “Mexicana light”.

Overall, I ended up really enjoying the book. I found the stories in the second half really brought her artistic ability to life, and I was really able to connect with the author through the stories. A great read.

Sandra Cisneros knows about love. About the innocence and totality of the love found in a childhood friendship. About the loss of this innocence and the sting of your first betrayal. About the incapability to deny love once it has set itself in a young heart. About unrequited love. About forcing yourself to endure a love that is superficial and injurious. About letting go of counterfeit love. About never letting go of genuine love. About the unending depths of family love. About public love. About private love. About jealous love. About vindictive love. About misplaced and projected love. About wanting love. About needing love. About giving love.

And goddamn, the woman knows how to write. Reading this, I felt as though I was being guided through the inner workings of the tender heart of each of the characters, as they were either awestruck or utterly disappointed by love.

I must also say that although this book can clearly be identified as feminist literature, and Mexican or Chicano literature, I really feel that Cisneros’ writing surpasses all of that. These are universal tales of the human condition, and it is a pleasure to read such a truthful account of what we all go through.

“I want to come undone, like a gold thread, like a tent full of birds”.

The technique that became most apparent in the second half of Woman Hollering Creek is the intertwining of Spanish and English into one ‘Spanglish’. The symbolism of Mexican immigrants living in the US but struggling to find their identity on both sides of the border is not lost in this conglomeration of languages. Cisneros is an expert at laying out Mexican slang within an English monologue…and I’m guessing that this is because that was how language worked for her while growing up. As I read the stories (such as Little Miracles, Kept Promises), I began to wonder what it would be like to not have any background in the spanish language and attept to read those short spanish prayers. Perhaps we get the feeling for who Cisneros’s audience really is: Chicanos….the bilingual masses. I feel like she has let me into these secrets just because I have taken the effort to learn spanish and understand her culture. It’s almost like she could care less for those people that don’t take the time to understand even THAT necesity about her: her language.

I love all the different writing styles that surface in this book. It becomes almost overwhelming to catch onto a different style with every chapter, but it’s still all written in that same sassiness that I have come to admire about Cisneros. I found that my least favorite story was Eyes of Zapata. It was full of magical realism, which I love, but something about it having to do with a historical figure made me pop out of that fantasy world of characters that Cisneros had created. And once again, the naive, frail female protagonist who stayed with her famous, cheating husband frustrated me. That opinion aside, considering that Cisneros couldn’t have experienced this time period but still achieves such an amazing level of description is an incredible feat.

And finally we see two stories that have some relevance to eachother: Bien Pretty, and Tin Tan Tan. Yet even through this small victory of correlation, I couldn’t feel a connection with the protagonist. I felt more connected to the childhood stories than any other section in the book. I have a suspiscion that my adult life experiences are a little more low-key as compared to those of Cisneros and her characters. Final response: this book made me feel very young.

This book is not so much a probe into identity as it is a reminiscence of Chicano/Chicana life before it can be necessarily be acknowledged as such. We experience the various memories, first-person narrative coming-of-age tales, and third person observations without knowing much back story or mythology about these seemingly endless protagonists. However, I’m going to try to be more specific in my musings than I tend to be…

This book, unlike the others, is modern in its revelations, new in its creation, and abundant in its pop culture references…I love the mention of Alarma! the gory Mexican tabloid magazine which is actually quite an entertaining read if you are able to desensitize yourself enough from violent pictures that you can read the rather comical articles…probably no worse than the video games we play here. It is a pretty disgusting rag, nonetheless I enjoyed the allusion.

I’m not sure if Cisneros intended to make all men look like insensitive misogynists that lack any sense of responsibility or humanity but she does a revolutionary job of portraying them as such…I guess it’s pretty accurate. I don’t take offense to be honest, it in many ways rings true…I just don’t like how the female characters are ignorant to the fact that men are like this, how they are bloodthirsty dogs who want to copulate with them yet they romanticize the memory of them after they never make contact (p. 30).

I’m not trying to discredit Cisnero’s personal experiences with men in her community, but other than a few mentions of boys experiencing discrimination because of their race I felt the novel was a never-ending well of female emotion being either drained or poisoned by men. There are brief descriptions of romance, passion, and then indelible consequences, eternal pain, of these men impregnating women, breaking hearts, deaf to the cries of their victims. These women describing their experiences are intelligent, are aware, but seem to blame rather than take control of the unfortunate situation bestowed upon them…I find it to be more demoralizing for women than it is empowering, as I read on page 100 of the details of a man charming and beautiful, impervious to guilt, and irresistible to all, yet never does a woman become wise to his irresponsible actions.

Still, the sense of togetherness in family is charming throughout, and unconditional love is a major theme in this opus…the imagination of Cisneros is so beautiful and limitless, dreaming up images, smells, both malodorous and pleasant, it brings to mind a photograph interactive in every way. She effectively combines nostalgia with conflict, and in many of these short stories she creates spirits unchained; dramatically pained in their existence but never stagnant.

I have a heard a lot of talk about Sandra Cisneros and now that I finally experienced her work for myself I find that I have mixed feelings about her. I definitely enjoy her uniqueness and I have genuinely enjoyed reading several of her stories. Cisneros has a particular talent for evoking strong emotions from the reader. “My Lucy Friend Who Smells Like Corn” was such a lovely, sweet, innocent story. I felt sincerely nostalgic for my youth as a simple, appreciative, little girl, even though I share none of these experiences with the little girls. Only the memory of childlike wonderment and awe for the simple pleasures is shared among us. “Eleven,” however, evoked exactly the opposite emotions in me, as I struggled not to cry while reading. I still can’t quite figure out why the words of Cisneros were able to touch me so deeply while none of the other texts have been able to affect me in such a way. There’s something about her exceptionally convincing ability to narrate from a child’s perspective that causes the reader to actually feel as though this heartbreaking story is being told by the bullied young birthday girl. And what adds to her sophistication as a writer is that Cisneros can do such a wonderful job of conveying that she is writing from the perspective of a young child without ever needing to directly inform the reader of the speaker’s age. Thus I was quite fond of the first few short stories.

As I read further into the text, however, I found that I began to notice a high frequency of incidents inserted purely for shock value. These did not so much detract from the literary merit of the text as they did from my personal enjoyment of it. As I read further and further into the book, I also found the stories became more and more difficult for me to comprehend. I’m still not sure as to whether I gained a proper understanding of what was going on in “Remember the Alamo,” with Cisneros’ erratic insertion of names before every new paragraph and constant repetition of “Say you want me…” (Cisneros, 67). Neither do I quite understand the significance of the narrator sleeping with her former lover’s son in “Never Marry a Mexican” other than the obvious shock value provided. I feel as though I could read some of these passages several times and still not fully understand exactly what Cisneros was trying to convey. Nevertheless she is an incredibly gifted writer and her writing has been a fresh breath of air. I definitely respect her. I’m just not so sure whether I truly enjoy reading her work as much as I do the work of Julia Alvarez, for example. We shall see how I feel after reading the second half of the book………..

I realy enjoyed this novel, i htink the author does a great job of putting all the stories together and setting common themes like struggle of woman and protraying different types of woman. like in other books we have read in this oen realigion is also a important theme, like it is on the life of eevry day people. One thing I noticed and also erad from other critics is the fact that she steretypes men alot especialy the image of the Latin men, she portays them all as players and abusers of woman, i belive she should have included more diverse men and not just one type. An intrestign not e that i want to add is that Woman holleirng creek exsist and its a creek filled with legends of spirits o fwoman that hunt the creek specialy of one woman that is said to have killed her baby because her husban left her.

this book is sort of written in a familiar way to that of “y no se lo trago la tierra” in the way that it is also fragmented and is broken up into little sections that talk about random (or are they) events and have various titles. the book is a great read and made me want to read more and more. Im curious as to the fact of who these narrators are and where are they located. i guess sometimes they’re in mexico and sometimes in the states???

Also something i found interesting is that all the narrators that ive read so far have been children which is another similarity to “y no se lo trago la tierra.” I like that this book is in Spanglish (well more english than spanish,,,but you know what i mean).

The point of view of children (of different ages as well) is a really interesting way to get a good perspective on the different situations they were in. From being in a church to being indifferent of someone’s death, i thought that each child narrator brought their own persona forward.

The little stories are very random as well. I started out laughing at many of them to being a little shocked at the others. her style of writing is very easy too. Apart from having lots of short sentences or run on sentences, i liked the amount of detail she used to describe scenes (like the one with the Barbies).

Some of the scenes you could almost relate to. By putting yourself back in the age of that child or even now. The scene with the church and people walking on their knees, brought me back to the times that i was in mexico and had witnessed the same thing.

Cisneros obviously puts out many chicano issues up front for the reader. For example when the foreigners wanted to take the pictures of the children outside the church and then realized they were “mericans.” I felt that this passage apart from showing cultural diversity, definatley showed cultural ignorance (at least on the gringo side). Also in the other passages when it starts talking about sex, it made me tie this theme back with religion, how mexican catholic females were brought up and the different stereotypes and consequences that came along with rebelling against this traditionalism. Another theme was poverty, when the narrator talked about the boy in her school who had to dress his brothers, and help his mother, and lived poorly, and dressed bad. I think poverty is a large issue in mexican/chicano life, whether it being in the united states or mexico.

Overall, from what ive read, im really enjoying it and hopefully going to be enjoying it even more.

The book has a rather unusual structure. The stories seem to be chronologically compiled from childhood to adolescence and adulthood; however, each story has no explicit beginning or end. The stories open by identifying the main characters by their names and the protagonist seems to shift with every story. If the stories are told by the same narrator, she introduces herself indirectly through her tocaya. She seems to demarcate the borders by offering a birds-eye-perspective on her identity, negotiating her location between borders.
Cisneros seems to represent her position between Anglo and Mexican culture, “el otro lado- on the other side” by juxtaposing the Spanish words with the English words. Although she uses Spanish words once in awhile, I think this is the first time she placed them side by side.

I think it is interesting to see a book structurally similar to … y no se lo trago la tierra and find a poignant difference- the importance of naming stressed and how names function book. It reminds me of Who Would Have Thought It and how nearly all characters have names. Julie, the only surviving canary, symbolically trades places with Lavinia who ends up caged by the corruption of the ideological American dream.

I think Woman Hollering Creek and other stories ties all our reading together with its similarities with the other books.

Today I sat down with Woman Hollering Creek and I didn’t get up until I was halfway through, and even then I was reluctant to stop reading. Cisneros has such a powerful and fluid writing style that I quickly read through these stories while being completely engrossed in each of them. The first section, which is composed of girlhood vignettes, made me smile because the language is so evocative that it called up many of my own memories. Cisneros doesn’t neglect any of the senses, from the larger-than-life colours and objects seen from the eyes of a child, to the smell of Lucy and theatre popcorn, to the awful itch of the red sweater and being physically overtaken by emotion about an inconsequential and irrational thing. There were certain experiences and emotions I could relate to in the adolescent and adult sections of the book, but more commonly I felt dismay and frustration to be experiencing second-hand these terrible realities that are thankfully not my own, but are to many Chicanas.

Living in a deeply misogynist society is one of these realities. Not only do we read about the spousal abuse suffered by Cleofilas, but in both “My Tocaya” and “Woman Hollering Creek” the female characters mention how the newspapers are filled with accounts of women beaten and killed by their husbands, lovers, and male family members. When this happens it is not a surprise, but with a sickening resignation it is accepted as business as usual. Another reality that Chicanas must deal with is how their femininity and sexuality is constructed by the cheesy romanticism of telenovelas and ballads on the one hand and the Mexican and Southwestern myths of la Virgen de Guadalupe, la Llorona, and la Chingada on the other. The ways, often profoundly damaging ones, that these manifest themselves in women’s lives can be seen multiple times in the first half of the book, most painfully when a Chicana actually jokingly reenacts the Malinche/Cortez relationship with a white man she’s having an affair with.

The last reality that I’ll mention is that of being caught between two countries, not really being from one or the other, and feeling like you’re failing in both. There are strange and sad moments of dissonance when, for example, a bumbling tourist takes a picture of “authentic” Mexican children only to find out that they’re actually “Mericans,” and how the family in “One Holy Night” sends its female members back and forth between Mexico and the U.S. when they accidentally get pregnant, a migration forced by family honor in which the women have no say.

I. My Lucy Friend Who Smells Like Corn