As a woman, I really enjoyed this novel empathetically. There are two different lines that are worth talking about, one is about the narrator’s funeral, and the other is about the narrator herself.
I think I’ll start with Ana María herself. If I’m gonna describe her in simple sentences, I would say: she was a good girl, trapped within the society and expectations of patriarchy, so that eventually the only word that could be used to describe her was good. As a woman, and even more so as a person, her dream was to be admired, be remembered, be beautiful; for this, she tried her best. When she was young, she chased her true love; when she got married, she tried to be a good wife, a good mother. But eventually the story was sad, she was ignored, hated, annoyed.
Her whole life was so deeply controlled or impacted by patriarchy, which, as a woman myself, felt so sad about. She lived in a family where the father ruled everyone and everything, being suppressed from being a “good woman”, and her life goal should only be finding a man, marrying him, and raising his kids. In this case, her personality was ignored; she was only valuable as tags like “unmarried, useless woman that would eventually leave the house” marked by her father, “the wife that should be taking care of my whole family and not stepping further to care about my own business” marked by her husband, “wonderful pure wife model” marked by Fernando, “mother that should take care of the whole family and be caring and considerate” marked by her children. I can see she tried not to obey those rules by finding a man herself: Don Ricardo. Was Ricardo a good man that can be relied on? No, personally no. The narrator described him as a “cruel torturer”, so naughty that he grabbed others’ attention by making fun of others; and more so, I see the patterns of his abusive/tough father on him. But she loved him so much. Is that love? She said that was a “strange desire” that she eventually categorized as love, but what I see is that the desire came from the obedience of men’s power. She feared this man’s forceful command, yet simultaneously hoped that this intimidating strength could safeguard her identity as a woman — it was the admiration and dependence of a woman oppressed by patriarchy toward a powerful figure. On the other hand, she also glimpsed his vulnerable and fragile side, and this contrast gave rise to a tender, protective affection — much like a mother cherishing her own child. These complex emotions became entangled, eventually rationalized into love.
People say the relationships between your parents really affect their children in terms of their views on love and marriage.
In this case, Zoila became the projection of her template for how to live in the future. She could see that Zoila wasn’t doing well, or at least wasn’t living a life where everyone commonly considered to be “happy.” But within the framework and concepts of that world at the time, Zoila got married, had children, and took on the responsibilities of a mother — and that was called “happiness”. She was strict yet tender-hearted toward her child. When the narrator “made foolish mistakes”, Zoila would rather take the blame herself than be overly scolding her. However, becoming such a role of “a competent woman” demanded the sacrifice of her own personality, the surrender of her freedom, transforming her into a “wife” and a “mother”. The narrator seemed to have a complex mix of upset and pity towards Zoila. On one hand, she didn’t like her current state and didn’t recognize her as her mother; on the other hand, she felt pained by Zoila’s diminished self after such excessive sacrifice. To be honest, in some corner of my heart, I’m quite glad that the narrator still calls her Zoila rather than “mother”. At least in that world, beyond being remembered as someone’s wife or someone’s mother, she remains as Zoila — her own Zoila.
This is merely my personal view: One of the saddest aspects of the past patriarchal society is that most people ultimately find themselves forced into the very roles they dreaded most. Sons despise their fathers’ brutality and autocracy, daughters loathe their mothers’ weakness and subservience—yet in the end, most are still pushed by society into becoming those fathers, those mothers.
After marriage, the narrator seemed to have transformed into Zoila. Only she carried more pain, more confusion. She didn’t receive sufficient respect or love from her husband, so when it came time for her to love her children, her confusion and helplessness were projected onto them alongside her affection.
As a woman herself, her daughter Anita witnessed her mother’s endurance and sacrifice as both a wife and a mother within this household — just as the narrator once observed Zoila. Anita feared of becoming like her mother, a person disciplined into numbness. So she chose to keep away from her mother, withdrawing with ruthless detachment to avoid becoming another replica of “Mother.”
I’ve heard someone talking about a phenomenon that when a wife cannot receive the respect and love from her husband, she projects these longings onto her son, fantasizing that he might “become her husband.” And so another child, Fred, assumed this role. At the height of her isolation in marriage, the narrator found a sense of understanding in Fred. But Fred was just a child—he neither had the capacity nor the responsibility to bear and rescue his mother’s pain and loneliness. So the only thing he could do was to withdraw.
Her other son, Alberto, was the child who most resembled his father. As I mentioned in previous paragraphs, patriarchal society often forces many people to become the kind of person they hate most. Yet as the party with greater authority, men ultimately benefit more from this system. Consequently, some individuals neither question this power structure nor hesitate to willingly become part of it. Alberto was such a child. In this case, his dislike for his mother becomes clear: he never saw her as an independent person, but rather as an identity serving him. He was careless of her concessions and sacrifices; as the dominant party in society, these seemed to him both justified and insignificant.
Such a society is unsolvable and painful. Within this rigidly structured framework, some may benefit, but somehow it still seems no one truly finds happiness. What I find most valuable about this piece is how it shifts focus from traditional male-centered narratives to reveal the lived experience of a woman’s entire life. I am grateful to have been born a woman in an era striving harder for equality, yet I also feel deep empathy and gratitude toward the women who endured oppression in the past.
So sorry I think I wrote too much and didn’t have the time to elaborate about my thoughts on the funeral part… 🙁
Question: If you got to pick your style of life, which one would you choose: to be attached to someone extremely powerful/wealthy/famous, or to live independently without recognition/fame/money?