Author Archives: Clandestino

The End, My Dear Old Friend

To quote Jim Morrison, “This is the end, my dear old friend, the end.”

After a semester of lots of reading, I feel good. Good because with literature comes a bit more context, and I am always grateful for those that guide or demonstrate a more diverse sense of the world at large. Particularly, being Latin Canadian, and having lived in Canada for most of my life, reading Latin American literature is very empowering for someone like myself.

So without further adieu, I would like to extended my gratitude to those who presented such an opportunity. Professor Beasly-Murray and assistant professor Orizaga Doguim, thank you for your patience and compassion with such interesting and difficult topics. I can’t really say how much I appreciate everything but I can say that what was covered in this class will stay with me for sometime, if not, for all of my time, and I think that speaks for itself.

Now aside from the grateful formalities, we covered a lot of topics this semester. We read a lot of great literature from phenomenal authors. We read of a new world at the end of another world. We delved into history that was not clear but possibly made clearer through figurative language. We tackled hypothesis with illusion and allusion. We read of life passing through generations without motive except in prophesy. We read about truth and magic fighting eternally. We read about satire becoming self-inflicted. We read about women becoming sane through madness. We wondered whether truth weighed heavier than solidarity. We read about the politics of identity. We read about someone seeing the world crossing its own end.

Maybe these weren’t the best summarizations for the books we’ve read and I might have missed some, but its been a hell of a good semester if you ask me. I also think it is due to the grading scheme. I feel like this grading system allows one to rid of the pressures of performance in examination and rather allows the student to attempt to enjoy the pressures of self through a contractual promise.

So in the end, I am happy with what I am taking away from this course and I guess before I leave the final question, I should also thank my classmates for being apart of this experience and for also being good students as to take their own risks, whether it was with the pressure of their contract or with the comments they made about the literature we were charged with. Thanks everyone, really appreciate the company I had this semester and I wish everyone the best of luck in the future, and who knows, maybe we’ll see each other around.

For my final question, probably the simplest one I’ve asked all semester, which book did you enjoy the most and why?

Clandestino out.

Fever Dream

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For the last week, I chose the book Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin.

This book was confusing, annoying, but also intriguing with its short timeline narrative. After watching the video on the novel, the idea of a Hyperobject makes that book all the more interesting.

I didn’t know that soy was the largest export of Argentina, and I also didn’t know that there was or still is so much contamination with the agriculture. I’m am grateful to have become aware of it now.

Throughout the book, I was constantly wondering what is going on. In real life, I also wonder what is going with the world, my neighbourhood, and lets be honest, with myself. In this narrative produced by Schweblin, the paranoia produced by external forces concludes in a story about illness, selfishness, and death. With so much discourse on trying to find out what was the source of the fatality, the book tries to navigate the reader to the exact moment when it all started. I don’t think we ever find out what was the real source but in consideration of our the world at large and place within it, we can or do, also, try to navigate and find the sources of circumstances or of being.

The truth is that in that search we still participate that destruction, exactly the one we are trying to stop by finding out how it started. Maybe not for all scenarios but in the grand scheme of things, when people say the world is f’d up, people like to talk about this or that as the reason to i, but in the end, we still never change our habits or participation due to many reasons but speaking for myself it is because a) I am already to invested in this way lustre of form of being, b) to blind in mundanity that I cannot see and accept my part, c) too scared to be THE difference with all of its radical connotations, d) simply feel the insignificance of such a thought or action since it is the external forces which cause the pressures and I ame only able to deal with the internal force.

In the end, we all do have a part to play, no one is innocent, especially for us in North American where we consume instead of eat. And honestly speaking, I am probably the worst of the consumers for being the slightest bit conscious about it and still partake like there’s no tomorrow.

So this book leaves the reader, with a bit of context, with this feverish dream called life. Schweblin did her small part by writing the book, how shall we follow her lead? How does she even live her life? Just cause she writes about, doesn’t mean she practices it but I sure do hope so.

Anyways, the last question of these blogs of mine is do you think the children in this book, and how they were all being lead across the road with all their visible deformities, to be a greater far cry to something else? Or what do you think of that image?

My Tender Matador

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For this week, I choose to read My Tender Matador by Pedro Lemebel. With a strong narrative about nameless interpersonal relationships that are tangled with a greater cause that is attached to the characters identity.

I enjoyed the political question of identity it seemed to be asking throughout the book but also around the use of a character from the queer community as the main protagonist who embodies a sense of compassion, among other things, while society doesn’t reciprocate the same feeling towards her. I would like to say that I found a lot of cliches in the book but that may be of my own point of view. One that can be mentioned is a love story in a revolutionary story. An overused theme but I guess this love story was unique.

The scene with Pinochet and the attempted assassination was one part that really stuck out for me as it probably did for others. The scene was seemed more comedic than I originally thought it would be, but it also drew me to imagine what that era might of been when there was so much state control in response to eliminate anarchists or revolutionaries and how through that logic, dictators were so fuelled by their own justice that they were almost capable of doing anything. But then that’s where the comedic part happens because since after Pinochet goes into cliche rant about Chile never falling into delinquency, he gets shot at and gets ends up getting shook like want-to-be gangster.

The book makes you think of what those times must of been like with all the check stops and identification calls. What it would be like to constantly hide your identity or to create a new or true identity to serve your best life. Tie that in with a bit of love and historical events and you have a book that is rooted in the playful version of historical interpretation with serious connotations.

I think towards the end of the book when La loca had to exile and the narrator talks about her never owning any papers, I think that must of been my favorite part of the book. I’m not entirely sure why but I think it was a great poetic little character trait that holds a lot more value than I’m getting at here.

For my question, I’d like to ask everyone about the topic of identity and its relation the political of society. Do you think identity, even if you are a non partisan, is political?

Yo-Yo Boing!

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For this week’s reading, I picked Giannina Braschi’s, Yo-Yo Boing!

It was a very interesting read that had a very original aesthetic and design to the novel. It felt like different conversations between a single person over the anxieties of life and its own designs but overall, it is safe to say that it was a book of which I have never read anything similar to it.

There were a lot of cross cultural references that were hard to contemplate in the moment since I didn’t have much of a references to it, but along with the mix of the Spanish and English language, the text became a sort of meandering cultural loophole that didn’t seem to have an end, nor a start. There were some lines that really made an impression on me because I had never heard them before and also because some lines just jump out at the reader especially if the reader gets lost along the narrative path. One line was: “You know why? Because when women have sons, they think it’s their turn to be men. Or to exercise power over these men,” (128). Probably liked that line because I grew up with a single mom and we didn’t have the best of relationships throughout my teen years. But there was also another quote before the one above that triggered my attention just a tad bit sharper: “The man bolted, coward, but the woman, brave woman, did not run, she stopped-gathered one, two, three crying children and then ran off. Where was the father? Gone. It showed me how much stronger women are./ Some and some not./ Maternal instinct/ Some and some not.” (127).

This narrative that seemed to be a grand combustion of self exploration through language and cultural reference, creating a narrative that consumed thought and leaving the reader to ponder more than maybe the could at face value. At least, that was how I experienced this book. I feel like I’ll have to give it another read to further grasp some of the narratives that persisted to make a point.

The question I would like to ask is about the narrative. What do you think was being constantly asked in this book?

I, Rigoberta Menchu

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This book was tragic and inspiring. Menchu’s voice will be hard to forget and I do not want to forget it. For the very beginning, on a personal level, appreciated the oral genesis of this book since so much of common life is built on those building blocks. The fact that she learned Spanish only three years before is something that I find very relative to my own idiosyncrasy since I too have been trying to learn it the best I can so I may tell my own story or to simply hear and understand the stories of my family by their own tongue.

Aside for the things mentioned above, I struggled with the reading because of the lack of humanity she spoke of, and of the colonial structures that took away so much for such a little price. But at the same time, I felt the necessity to hear her story in order to be educated more of the lives that I haven’t lived because I feel like here in Canada, we are so comfortable that some horrific stories that we hear of don’t seem real until we read about the details extensively and even then we are worlds away. At some of us, not all of us.

One thing that interested my train of thought was about her renouncing in way the ideas custom for women within her culture in order to defend more than her culture. I think after all the injustices she experienced, that is logical action to take but also a very hard one. I don’t think many people could do that but then again, not everyone is meant to be a leader.

After reading about so many injustices committed to innocent people and especially, such unique people customs as old as generations, it still never gets old to think how crazy the world is to justify and even try to debunk the cruelties of testimonials. It amazes me that people what to debunk cruelties against human rights and then sell them useless products in bulk. It is a world full of legal games with cheap victories and expensive debt; at least in this continent.

I do think that Rigoberta is playing a game with us as well. And why wouldn’t she? She a smart woman who knows that people only want to be entertained. That no one really wants to help. That the most we’ll do is write a blog post and speak about injustice, hardly without ever sacrificing something meaningful of ourselves in order to stand in solidarity. So, maybe there’s chance she gave us what we wanted. The question is are we gonna do anything about it?

My question is, if you’ve every experienced an injustice, how could you turn it into a greater cause without writing about it?

Captain Pantoja and the Special Service

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For this weeks book, I chose Mario Vargas Llosa’s, Captain Pantoja and the Dictatorial Service of Machismo… wait that’s not it. Let me try again… I chose Mario Vargas Llosa’s,Captain Pantoja and the Special Service. Yeah, that’s the one.

Wow, what a way to be introduced to Mario Vargas Llosa. A very courageous narrative to embark on as an author. There was a huge sense of a greater message being delivered but sometimes the narrative was so ridiculous and absurd that it made me wonder about that phrase about truth being stranger than fiction. Maybe this time it is the other way around. I sure hope it is but at the same time, seems like men in power were capable of justifying anything while also being innovative with logic.

If there is one thing I would like to say about the character of Captain Pantoja, it would have to be that I was glad that he defended Olga Arellano Rosaura (the Brazilian) to his commanding officer, General Scavino and that they gave her military honours at her funeral even though it may have been part of the joke of the farce but it may have been the closest thing to an honourable act in this book, though of course the whole situation was demeaning and unethical. But at the same time, I think some of the intent of this book was for to be read by the men of the current time of when it was written and of course, now. In that case, this book was meant to be a reflective narrative for men being that it was so deliberately sexist and unempathetic to the female reader.

In the lecture it was interesting that the issues of the 1970’s was immersed into the possible underbelly of the narrative and I would probably summarize and relate to the opening dream of chapter ten: A cockroach is eaten by a rat who is eaten by a lizard who is eaten by a jaguar who is crucified and whose remains are devoured by cockroaches… (218).

That imagine or idea seems to be the repetitive dialogue that surfaces and submerges itself with the intent to stabilize and destabilize the old and new structures that arise from the military interventions and the democratic conscious that continue to plague the political history of Latin America and in some cases, the rest of the world. But that horrifying image of the cycle of life or better yet, the cycle of the devoured, seems to have a greater meaning.

What do you think it means?

100 Years of Today’s Yesterdays

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This book written by Garcia Marquez has left a certain hole in my pupil, one that looks backwards to my own history and that of my family’s. Though, I can argue that that hole was already there, I can also confess that it has and is always being shaded with some type of filter. Seldom is it just a hole that reaches the past. Most often it is a shade covered with desire to see what I want to see, not what is really there. And that can be related to desire and to this notion of solitude from Garcia Marquez’s book. I mention my own idiosyncrasy in relation tot he book because I think these types of book’s offer a genuine node of reflection with self and world. And world can be described as starting with family as family is the cradle of world. Maybe, maybe not. But I believe this blog was designed to “freestyle” thought so there is my own version.

But it is compelling to see how this book tackles family within world and world within family. The discovery of an outer world to the secluded world is a great metaphor to the being of an individual intersecting with external forces. The trickle down effect of maintaining traditions or the lack of is also very evident in this novel as memory flees just as easy as it attaches.

With a family so diverse but also so similar it almost seems as if Garcia Marquez is saying that everything stems from one thing and ends up back to where it started. Why? Greed, desire, lust, pride etc. All those selfish traits don’t allow any growth other than that of pursuit are very detrimental to a family well being.

In a way, you could say globalization is like that. Just seeking for people to trade their product for what they are actually looking for. Product by product, the world will continue to discovery reserved and secluded areas unknown to man just to install or influence locals of “magic” or “technology” so that they may “prosper”. But in the end, with family’s already having their own “original” problems do we really need to inherit the worlds?

A controversial question but maybe it is also legitimate. It is interesting to think that we leave our homes in an attempt to be part of the world and possibly help others by finding our own cause when issues at home haven’t been resolved. It’s not like that for everyone but I do believe that family is the most complicated thing we will ever come across in our life.

As a final question, I have a controversial one. What do you think about the phrase, for a child to become their own person this must metaphorically kill their parent? Messed up I know, but I heard that in Argentina from an author but I think it is relevant to a Hundred Years of Solitude.

Perdón Daniel y Profe, recién salido del trabajo.

100 Years of Repetition

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So far, so good.

I haven’t finished the book yet but man, is it wonderful. I can only imagine what the original book in Spanish must be like; it must sounds amazing. Aside from the magical and fantastical idea of this book, it is simply written very well and I just wanted to take a moment to say it.

The many ideas that arise from reading this book are quite intriguing. Though, I haven’t finished it, I am getting some similar themes from Oedipus Rex about fate, curses, and the human will. I’m sure it will take awhile to understand a bit more of what this book is preposing but right now it almost seems as if this narrative, not the story, is very playful with how it reveals historical details while excluding others. As if they are letting us see the desert but not taste it. And of course, its syntaxes and its repetition is what gives it that superficial and sonic playfulness.

And from these playful methods arise sobering topics like history repeating itself. It is interesting to read along and experience some of the horrific events that happen but experiencing it under this playful “narrative” umbrella. It may be a similar narration in the minds of the people that do practice some too things in the book. The way of phrasing desire or justifying a crime could come natural to all if we are pushed to those limits and though it may be fatally or morally serious to us in the moment, in retrospect, when it known and talked about by others, they too may have a method of telling horrific events in a playful manner so people may grasp a bit more of the encompassed.

Maybe this is also a similar method of Garcia Marquez but most impressive, is the manner in which delivers his narrative. Playing with time, as the author does, with his references to the future, to the ancient, and to the multiplicity of the present — sometimes even all in one line — seems hard but very rewarding in consideration to plot. Applying that reconstruction of time through narrative seems to have given Garcia Marquez lots of room to fill the pockets of time with whatever he wanted. And it seems that he wanted a lot.

My question will be revolved around a quote from the top of page 136. The excerpt goes:

“Tell me something, old friend: why are you fighting?”
“What other reason could there be?” Colonel Gerineldo Marquez answered. “For the Liberal Party.”
“You’re lucky because you know why,” he answered. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve come to realize only just now that I’m fighting because of pride.”
“That’s bad,” Colonel Gerineldo Marquez said.
Colonel Aureliano Buendia was amused at his alarm. “Naturally,” he said. But in any case, it’s better than not knowing why you’re fighting. He looked him in the eyes and added with a smile:
“Or fighting, like you, for something that doesn’t have any meaning for anyone.”

Why does the liberal party not have any meaning for anyone in Colonel Aureliano Buendia’s opinion?

The Kingdom of this World

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Lost, one is found.

That is how I felt reading this book until I read the afterword; then everything made sense.

I have to admit that I was very tired while reading the book but some of my intuitions were in tune, but, as always, my mind blurred whatever intuition remained while sleep-reading. That original instinct–foreshadowed by our professor’s criticism on academias form of analyzation– attempted to relate all the imagery of animals behaviour, sects of beliefs, cruelty, colonial pre-ordained destiny, racism, and the fantastical with the greater theme of a brute comparison of colonialism and its actors (enslaved and colonials) as a portrayal for the worst animalistic infused sentiment of the human condition, or of human nature, with strong stippled droplets of spirituality. Though that is a very big broad stroke for generalization, the narrative is very focused and intact throughout the novel, and in my opinion it revolves around those themes.

I think reading it a second time and not so tired, I will be able to absorb it better but what I can recall now is that the book gave so much depiction of natures, myths, personas, histories, and haunting presences that it almost felt like it was an oral story rather than a read one. That may be a testament to the writer, or to my drowsiness, but I definitely think it has to do with Carpentier’s style. Especially since the chapters were rather short, sometimes I felt like someone was just telling me the whispers of the night. Often times, while I lived in Mexico, you would just talk to random people at very random times and you would hear stories similar in tone with its fantastical elements but located in realistic terrains like the neighbourhood you live in or along the dark coastline.

But it is tough to face the facts and read about the failed revolution in Haiti, especially since it seemed that it started with so much dignity. It is hard to read and know that Henri Christophe wanted to become his own monarch. Though, I can also rationalize why he might have wanted to become “King”, since if anyone was to be “King” he might be one of the best suited for the job. Again, I hope to read about revolutions and find some type of solidarity against the old ways, but then again, revolution is romanticism at its best and at its worst.

Alejo Carpentier–philosophically–is probably a mystic. Especially after that intro. But then again, isn’t that what some writers are? In some type of union or bond with reality. What do you think?

What do you think of the final messages on pages 130 and 131? Do you think an adherence to adversity is our greatest strength?

Perdon Daniel, se me fue el tiempo.

Labyrinths, A collection of Short Stories by J.L.B

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The blind man that read more than I could ever dream.

In Argentina, it seems that Borges is either loved or hated due to his political commentary and intellectual prowess. Having now read some more of his short stories, I am caught in-between admiration and envy. I admire him for his humility (I only know of it because I have watched lots of his interviews throughout the years), and his intellect, which I also envy.

If you didn’t know, Borges for a good majority of his latter years of life was blind, and I believe he still wrote despite that difficulty. This too is another reason which I admire him. But Borges, is intertwined within Argentine lore while also being rejected by many. While I visited Buenos Aires in 2019, I accidentally met one of his neighbours, a doctor, while in a local bookstore, and we discussed the man for about half an hour before we departed our separate ways. I will never forget the memories he shared with me about Borges. One quote he mentioned which Borges told him was in regards to literature was, “novelties: classics.” A simple and resourceful note from the blind librarian.

But his book was far from simple, or was it? Though from the outside, Borges’s short stories are often intimidating, depending on the story, for others they are quite magical and playful. Why playful? Well they simply play with history, changing the outcome or narratives of history recorded in the transcripts of time. So, in a sense, for those who have learned history of that certain context within his story, it could very playful to read his stories to see where the author ends that history and why in that way. I am not one of those people that is aware of some of those ancient or premodern histories so I did have some trouble engaging with the narrative as much as I wanted to.

I also want to add the thought of why Borges never wrote a novel in the traditional sense. He said that for him it was hard to have continuous focus while reading novels thus he wrote short stories. I am paraphrasing, of course, but I find it interesting since some of his stories are hard to follow due to his playful: one, two, three, etc. steps ahead type of narrative within a very short amount of page count. Of course, this is all out of context for our current times since the literature in learned and higher classes was a framing for authors that was common in those times and I guess now too, in some cases, but through the details of his writing, like the block paragraphs and also the language used, we can see that it is a dated style.

He is another South American author that pays homage to his European roots through the mentioning of its history in his stories but he also stays grounded as a contemporary by writing about Argentina and other Latin American cultures. Almost seems that he wrote about every culture, though that is not true, but it almost seemed so.

In Deutsches Requiem, I thought it was awfully brave to write a story about his German and Jewish blood while writing as a fictional Nazi. In his essay, The Argentine Writer and Tradition, Borges tackles a topic so important and dangerous within Argentine culture that it makes me admire him more. If you didn’t know, in Argentina, we are very fanatical about a lot of things: our politics, our football (soccer), our history. That is why a lot of people call Borges “anti Argentine” due to some of the connotations he makes within the essay in question. But, on the other side, his point has a lot merit and future authors like Julio Cortazar seem to have written with Borges’s idea about Argentine style of writing, though, Cortazar didn’t need to read Borges’s essay to achieve it.

Nevertheless, Borges is an icon whether some see him as anti-Argentine or as the Latin American author who should of but never won the Nobel Peace Prize in literature.

Why do you think Borges never won the Nobel Peace Prize in literature?

Do you think his stories are outdated? why or why not?