Author Archives: gillian marshall

Concluding Thoughts

As the last week of classes is upon us, it continues to baffle my mind of where the time has gone. It seems as though the more I approach the end of my degree, the faster the terms go by – not that I’m complaining, you know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun. Although I wouldn’t necessarily classify this class as “fun,” I would say it was incredibly engaging, thought-provoking, and opened my eyes to a new form of literature I hadn’t explored before. I am grateful for stepping out of my comfort zone and exploring a new form of writing, and different ways of analyzing underlying themes present throughout the novels.

As Jon first introduced the overarching theme of “play” during our first class, it made me question how all of these Latin American stories will have aspects of play within them. However, after reading quite a few, I became increasingly aware and able to point out themes in the books that weren’t always obvious. Much of the themes present within the various books also included violence, race, gender, inequality, and as Jon mentions in the lecture – time, temporality and technology. The themes present also play into much of the patterns of commonality that a lot of us have identified throughout our weekly blog posts, or in various class discussions.

As I have mentioned in many of my blog posts, much of these books are a raw depiction of life, and the human psyche. They represent the suffering, desire to love and be loved, the beautiful inner-workings of life itself and what it means to have consciousness. I thought it was interesting when Jon mentioned the stories as being “threads connecting past to present” and that “history catches up to us in one way or another that we cannot escape our past – or put enough distance between then and now.” The stories we read and pass on to younger generations do bring us closer to a past we may not know personally, but one that can bring awareness to other’s hardships. And much of learning about history is so that we can become increasingly aware of the world around us, the experiences others have had, the suffering a lot of the world has endured, and how we can learn from this and try our best to do something meaningful with the little time that we have on this Earth.

I think personally, that is one of the biggest takeaways from this course. Through Latin American literature, the stories we explored gave me a greater perspective on the world around us.

So, perhaps my last question for the course is: How did this class change your perspective on the world around us? Do you feel like the readings have made you more appreciative of life and all the emotions that come along with it?

The Taiga Syndrome: Rivera Garza

When thinking about Cristina Rivera Garza’s, The Taiga Syndrome, the word that comes to my mind time and time again for how to describe the story is: eerie. The novel is a captivating and yet mysterious story about a female detective that is set out to find a woman that went missing.

When reflecting on the novel, various themes are present that are far from the light-hearted, child-friendly and dreamy characteristics of a typical fairytale. However, after watching this week’s lecture, Jon mentions that when delving deeply into the novel, it is apparent that much of the story is similar to a fairy-tale, which draws on themes of play, and childlike narratives, like the most classic one’s we all know and love. Although the book depicts a haunting version of fairytales, it also represents familiarity associated with fairy-tales – ones that are “strange, often disquieting and uncanny, especially the more we think about them.” The novel also presents themes of brutality,  a haunting story of life, suffering, and human psyche. 

This week’s lecture made me reflect on the most common, well-known fairytales we are told growing up, and the often dark and twisted messages present within them. For example, little red riding hood is a story about a young girl thats sets out to visit her sick grandmother and is stalked by an evil wolf. Once she arrives, she notices her grandmother looks strange, almost wolf-like. After several exchanges, the wolf jumps out and eats her. If that isn’t an eerie fairytale, I don’t know what is. The Taiga Syndrome highlights the eerie and disturbing parts of a fairytale, and therefore, in my opinion, highlights aspects of life. It also explores various frameworks on how a story can be told, and how it may be depicted. 

Much of the stories we hear growing up are a reflection of life and the various struggles we face, desires we crave, and the societal concept of good versus bad, leading to positive reinforcement or negative punishments. In a way, this book depicted much of the fundamental, confusing, and captivating feelings of the human psyche. It also represented much of the themes present in other novels in the class – play, identity, life, brutality, human desire, and more. It was fascinating to read, and often left me feeling confused and un-easy in a way. But after all, isn’t that just a perfect representation of life. 

My question for this week is: What childhood fairytale did this twisted, mysterious, and eerie novel remind you of?

I, Rigoberta Menchú

I, Rigoberta Menchú is a powerful memoir about a young Mayan woman’s family and life during the civil war in Guatemala. The main themes explored include discrimination, mistreatment, and violence, which continue to be prominent themes throughout several books we’ve read in this course so far.

I was thoroughly captivated by I, Rigoberta Menchú this week, as it brought a new perspective and made me reflect on my own life and history in our country. We are learning increasingly more about the history of mistreatment and oppression towards Indigenous peoples around the world. The book touches on the impact that colonialism has had on the Indigenous peoples in Guatemala as Rigoberta Menchu describes accounts of racism, violence, and oppression. She describes “Indians” often being sprayed with pesticides, or living in miserable conditions with little to no quality of life, highlighting the vast differences between the treatment of wealthy colonizers and indigenous people. Despite the constant oppression and marginalization inflicted onto the indigenous communities of Guatemala, it was inspiring to see how Menchú was committed to celebrating her cultural heritage. After everything she experiences, she is resilient, and dedicated to her community and her cultural identity.

The book, and all its brutality, oppression and racial inequality, made me reflect on my own position within society, and how far removed I am to Menchú’s experience as an individual who grew up in a wealthy, developed country with various opportunities at her fingertips. It also made me understand how often we take for granted the privilege we have to receive the quality of education that we do, as all Menchú wanted was to master spanish and explore the world outside of her hometown. It was striking to see how she was treated even once she moved to Guatemala City to learn Spanish and work as a maid in a wealthy home, as the book portrays that even pets in the home had a better quality of life than her.

Overall, I, Rigoberta Menchú was thought-provoking and incredibly moving as she highlighted the raw experiences of indigenous people in Guatemala, and the persisting struggles of injustice that continue to linger today as a result of colonialism and systemic racism.

My question for this week is: How did the book make you think about the world we live in, and the privilege we have in society? Did it make you reflect on your own positionally?

Clarice Lispector: The Hour of the Star

Clarice Lispector’s, The Hour of the Star, is a captivating story about the ultimate fate and existential crisis of a 19-year-old young woman named Macabea. Macabea moves from the countryside to Rio de Janeiro, and lives in a tenant room in the slums of Rio. The novel takes us through her life – a life that is ultimately quite mundane – exploring themes of identity, belonging, and the state of being. The novel also touches on prevalent social and economic inequalities in Brazilian society, as Lispector navigates the intricacies of writing about impoverished communities.

I thought it was incredibly fascinating that the way the book was written allows the reader to enter the mind of Macabea and navigate through various thoughts and emotions that she is grappling with. Macabea struggles with the fact that she is undereducated, coming from a very low social status. and therefore is viewed as not enough in the eyes of others. Her lack of ambition makes her not very interesting to others, which further isolates her and highlights a sense of loneliness.

I think what I loved about the novel so much was the way it explored so much more than just the story of Macabea’s life, but rather depicts the human condition. It was fascinating when Jon mentioned in the lecture video that, “how we construct our own narrative and sense of self comes from the material available to us, from what is at hand to what we consume.” It made me take a step back and look at my own life as a whole, highlighting what we consider bystanders to our own life, while navigating the fact that we are in fact bystanders in other people’s story. It really made me question the kind of purpose we attach to our life and how, when you look at life this way, daily stressors become rather insignificant. I think the story reminds us of the importance of living life to the fullest, while capturing the life of a girl who may not be doing just that, and doesn’t have many ambitions either. When thinking about the fact that we too are “playing out roles that were written for us,” I think it can be a scary thought to think that we are potentially living a life of conformity. 

My question for you all is: how did The Hour of the Star make you think about your own life? Did it shift your perspective on the reality of living life to the fullest vs. a life of conformity?

One Hundred Years of Solitude: Part 2

After finishing Garcia Marquez’s, One Hundred Years of Solitude, it is clear why Marquez is one of the most well-known and successful Latin American writers in history. As mentioned in my last blog post, the way magic realism is incorporated into the inner-workings of the novel adds an element of nostalgia, and child-like playfulness of reality vs. magic. Marquez does this skillfully by bringing objects to life, that “expand and frustrate human desire,” as mentioned in the lecture.  Although I remained a tad confused at times, it was fascinating to read how the narrative played out for the Buendia family – much to which I was not expecting. 

The second half of the novel touches on themes of time and history, as the book explores series of events that occur to the Buendia family throughout time. The story takes you through the “rise and fall” of the town of Macondo, a once quaint and tranquil town that becomes riddled with war, violence, and corruption; themes that continue to be prominent throughout multiple books that we’ve read in this course. The Buendia family slowly decays, as incest and madness become a common occurrence and take over their sanity. Another common theme is memory, and the fact that time is repeating itself and further shaping the perception of one’s reality. The novel touches on memories that the Buendia family share, further explaining how time, memory, and nostalgia are intertwined, creating either a place of comfort or a trigger from the past.

Garcia Marquez’s, One Hundred Years of Solitude touches on fundamental aspects of human existence, from successes to struggles, and the various emotions that come along with them. It’s interesting to compare these themes to others in various books we’ve explored in class, as it is becoming increasingly common for me to write my blog posts about themes of violence, suffering, and passion. I think that’s what makes Latin American literature so pertinent – that it explores aspects of life, contrasting what makes it ugly and what makes it beautiful.

The novel has definitely left a lasting impression on me, as the use of magic realism and intricate storytelling captures much of human experiences and shared sense of life, love, and loss that is not always talked about, but commonly felt.

My question for you is: How do you think the book was able to explore both life, death and repetition through magic realism?

Garcia Marquez: One Hundred Years of Solitude

After reading a significant portion of the book, I can say that, so far, I have thoroughly enjoyed Garcia Marquez’s, One Hundred Years of Solitude. It was fascinating to learn that Garcia Marquez was one of the most well-known and successful Latin American writers in history as he “combined literary and cultural prestige,” and that this book was a global classic almost from the moment of publication. It definitely takes a special kind of talent for a writer to have such massive success from the moment a book is published, which is clearly reflected from the fact that he won a Nobel Prize for literature.

Garcia Marquez was especially known for the way he incorporated magic realism within One Hundred Years of Solitude, in which he takes the reader through the history of how the town of Macondo was founded by the Buendia family. The first portion of the book establishes various themes that are pertinent to the rest of the book. These themes include magical realism – blending the unimaginable with reality – nostalgia, struggle, and repetition. The characters in the book also provide a deep insight and exploration into time and repetition within past mistakes, experiences, and tragedies, further proving that everything around us has its agency, and a life of its own. 

In the lecture this week, Jon mentions that the book is “an intricate game of confusion – a narrative that is over-full, excessive, repetitive, with recurring attempts to impose some kind of order one that can otherwise appear to be chaos, even madness.” To answer Jon’s question from the lecture this week, although the beginning of the book was confusing at times, I feel as though I have a different outlook on challenging books ever since I attended an engaging class a few weeks ago. This class challenged the way we think about, well, challenges. It gave me a new appreciation for navigating more intricate books that cause confusion and acknowledge that it’s okay to find it hard to read at times. 

It’s amazing to think that after over 50 years, Garcia Marquez’s, One Hundred Years of Solitude continues to resonate with readers, making it an all-time Latin American classic. I’m really looking forward to diving deeper in the analysis of the first portion of the book this week, and to experience for myself why it has become so influential. 

My question for the week is: what role does magic realism play in the novel, as it is a book that is both repetitive and one that “appeals to many senses and generates many affects”?

Week 5: Labyrinths

Labyrinths is a collection of short stories and essays written by Jorge Luis Borges. The themes throughout the book portray mortality, violence, power, philosophy, and time, touching on history in Buenos Aires, but without much of a plot, as it consists of many short stories and essays.

As I scrolled through fellow classmate’s blogs, and read their thoughts and feelings about the book, I grasped a shared sense of confusion and unawareness of what is truly going on in the various stories. I think this reflects what Professor Jon says in the lecture that, “his games (stories and essays) often challenge conventions and common sense, teasing out contradictions by taking ideas to their logical extremes, exposing secret complicities, as when apparent oppositions hide more fundamental similarities.” Borges also explores philosophical questions, like “what is the smallest difference that makes a difference?” I don’t know about you, but philosophical questions can sometimes make my head spin, and it seems as though throughout these responses, I’m not alone. 

Maybe my speculation is off, but after reading several famous books in Latin American literature, it seems as though lot of the themes throughout the books are similar, as they touch on time, life, and what life meant at that time. After these few weeks, it is apparent that there are various similarities in Labyrinths and in other books we’ve explored, like Cartucho. Cartucho was a novel that explored brutality, violence, and human survival, while Labyrinths also touches on mortality, power, time, etc. I feel as though Latin American literature holds a different level of passion than other forms of literature I’ve read before. It doesn’t seem to hold back as much, or neglect touching on fundamental aspects of life, power, violence, death, love, and discovering one’s self, no matter how difficult the topic may be to cover. Also apparent in Labyrinths, Latin American literature circles back to a fundamental theme in the course of “play,” and the exploration of genre.

Borges’ use of irony in his stories, creating a sense of imagination within life, and ultimately leaving the reader to be potentially confused leads me to wonder why… so my question this week is, what does this sense of imagination, irony, and confusion add to the book’s themes? One could argue that this was the whole point, and that Borges is really just exploring the different aspects of life, and feelings of confusion that we all experience at some point.

Week 4: Madwomen

After reading Madwomen, it is clear that Gabriela Mistral was anything by ordinary, not only in Latin American literature, but in her life as well. I thoroughly enjoyed reading the various poems that make up Mistral’s Madwomen. It gave me a new insight into life as a woman at the time the book was written. A time when women were constrained into a carefully constructed definition of how a woman should act. Her collection of poems reflect experiences and emotions of women, most notably those that have been oppressed. 

The poems are absolutely beautifully written, as they are full of powerful emotion, exploring themes of love, motherhood, discrimination, that captivated me. It was interesting the way Mistral depicted women and our generic forms of emotion including anxiety, anger, love, and some of the feelings we fear to feel, yet all experience as a woman. Her book was revolutionary, as it challenged the notion of what it meant to be a woman, and the confined, contracted definitions we are told by society to fit into. 

As I was reading her poems I felt like I was there, like I was feeling the emotion myself, through the descriptive language and metaphors. For example, the text reads, “I have sat down in the middle of the Earth, my love, in the middle of my life, to open my veins and my chest, to peel my skin like a pomegranate, and to break the red mahogany of these bones that loved you (35).” This small paragraph of the poem is full of powerful emotion that makes me feel the pain of abandonment with her. Another quote that resonated with me was one of the first lines of the book that read, “I killed a woman in me: one I did not love.” 

Gabriela Mistral, being passionate about social justice, brought attention to the discrimination women felt at this time, as they were continuously portrayed as “mad,” and arguably, at times still are. It is often that women are seen as “crazy” and “unreasonable” for their feelings. Mistral touches on this sense of portrayed “craziness” within her poems, however I believe she framed it to be highlighting and celebrating the emotion within women, rather than portraying it as craziness. I believe this helped pave the way for future ideals surrounding women to be broken down and challenged, bringing a more positive mindset to women’s emotions.

My question for this week is: If the book wasn’t written in free-form poetry, do you think the main themes of the text would remain? If not, how would the portrayal of women differ if written in a novel template?

Week 3: Cartucho

Throughout the novel, Cartucho, Campobello explores several prominent themes through vignettes and the recalling of memories during the Mexican Revolution. The themes throughout the novel include suffering, brutality, violence, and identity, and was written at a time of political, economic, and social turmoil in the country. Divided into three sections, and comprised of many short stories and descriptions of events that took place, the novel was written from a female perspective, at a time where male writers dominated. I think this adds a notable touch to the novel, as it helped to pave the way for other female writers to have a more prominent voice. It also provided a unique perspective, as many women may not have felt inclined to share their stories of tragedy.

Themes of human survival, suffering, and brutality were somehow depicted in a poetic way. Told half through the perspective of a child, and half through an adult, the recalling of memories of horrific events were described using highly descriptive language to provoke emotion in the reader. However, as stated in the novel, many children at this time recall much of the disturbing events with a sense of normalcy, as violence, tragedy, and death became a regular occurrence during the Mexican Revolution.

This poses the question of whether or not the utilization of poetry and brutality has something to do with the fact that the novel was written by a woman. Although what I am about to say is a stereotype and does not apply to everyone, in the past – and still today – women have been portrayed to be more emotionally sensitive and reactive than men. In my opinion, I believe Campobello wanted to story-tell in an emotionally charged way when depicting experiences of the Mexican Revolution, in order to get a reaction from the reader.

When thinking about last week’s book, Mama Blanca’s Memoirs, it’s interesting to note the contrast in similarities and differences that come up. Both books tell stories of childhood and recall memories of specific events and people. While Mama Blanca’s Memoirs bring up themes of childhood and nostalgia, Cartucho differs as it does not provide the reader with a sense of nostalgia, but rather a loss of hope for the future and the recall of tragic events that don’t want to be remembered.

My question this week is: Do you think the utilization of poetry and emotion in contrast with violence and brutality during this time is more prominent due to Cartucho being written by a female writer?

Teresa De La Parra: “Mama Blanca’s Memoirs”

I enjoyed reading Teresa De La Parra’s, “Mama Blanca’s Memoirs,” as it was the first piece of Latin American literature I had ever explored before. The book demonstrates how literature at this time was written with irony, challenging several different social implications and conflict of the time. For example, throughout the memoirs, De La Parra explores themes of class inequality, political conflict and slavery, and femininity versus masculinity. Although the book highlights progression and change in Venezuala, as slavery had just been abolished, it also brings to light class inequalities that had been apparent in Latin America primarily because of colonialism. We are given a sense of this straight away, as the forward reads, “Contrary to what the rich and mighty of this world think, life’s slender comes not from what it gives but from what it promises (8),” and “My door, like the door of the poor, is always open (9).” Other quotes similar to these demonstrate how Mama Blanca often brings up social inequalities and her personal opinions on class division.

Nostalgia and childhood are also prominent themes throughout the memoirs, as sentiment, emotion, and a sense of yearning for the past presented itself in the poetic documentation of her life. The stories that Mama Blanca shares with the young girl – who eventually amalgamates the memories and turns them into published memoirs of Mama Blanca’s life – is written in a poetic way that pulled me into Mama Blanca’s life, and left me wanting to read more at the end of each chapter. In a way, nostalgia and childhood tie back to the overarching theme in Latin American literature that explores a sense of play. The writing in itself is playful as De La Parra utilizes irony, as well as the use of childhood stories and family relationship dynamics bring forth old memories of a more youthful time in Mama Blanca’s life.

The style of writing was full of emotion, irony, poetry, conflict, betrayal, and in my opinion, depicted many themes of Latin American literature that were explored in class last week. Although nostalgia and play were prominent themes in the book, De La Parra also touches on important social and political aspects of life during this time, bringing class conflict and femininity ideals into question.

In a way, the book felt complex to me as it had several overarching themes to break down and examine closely. As my first Latin American literature reading assignment, I found it difficult to gather my thoughts, articulate exactly how I was feeling, and put it into words in this blog post. Hopefully as the term goes on this will improve as I explore further literature.

My question I have for you is: What does nostalgia mean to you? When reading Mama Blanca’s Memoirs, what aspect of the storytelling made you feel nostalgic?