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Blogs Conclusion

farewell, at last (imy rmst 202 already)

 

Woah, this has definitely been a wonderful journey with all of you!! I can’t believe that this class and semester have come to an end, it really does not feel like that much time has passed. I am really so grateful that I took this course since I had an amazing time getting back into reading (middle school me would be proud).

 

I quite enjoyed the selection of books I chose this term. If I were to revisit any of the novel choices, one text I would have loved to read is If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Calvino. I am so interested on how it would feel to be a character in the novel and (literally) be more involved in the story.

 

This class taught me that the more passive reading technique I have used for previous literature classes cannot be applied for all texts. Some works, especially more layered and emotional works like Combray by Proust and Faces in the Crowd by Luiselli, require active engagement with concurrent constant reflection. I believe this strategy may also be applied to understand the less obvious and underlying themes of more “outwardly intuitive” texts.

 

Early in the course, I felt like the novels we were reading didn’t have romance as the focal point of the novel. I begin thinking about what makes a novel a romance studies novel, other than the latin linguistic origin. Unsurprisingly enough, I decided to put that thought to rest after I couldn’t make a clear connection between the relationship.

 

I wanted to revisit this question after watching the lecture video and have come up with somewhat of an explanation. These novels are unique, and as discussed in the lecture, their similarities cannot be only reduced to simple thematic elements. They all share the aspect of translation into English. Maybe, in an abstract sense, the romantic elements of these texts may also involve the dedication, which is an aspect of romance, of the reader. More specifically, things like the effort we take to read the foreign text in a foreign language to ultimately rationalize what has transpired, or what the author truly intends, through a filter. Therefore, the romance in these texts comes to almost comes to life when we as readers take the time to give each novel its own nuanced interpretation.

I now ask you the same question: what do you think makes a novel a romance studies novel?

Before I sign off for the last time, I want to thank Dr. Beasley-Murray, Julián and Daniel for all your support this semester. I have constantly looked forward to the weekly discussions and your comments on my blog posts!

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Blogs Debré

Debré is extremely strong

Love Me Tender by Constance Debré was probably the saddest book in this course. Debré is an extremely strong person, and her story showcased the struggles queer women face in patriarchal societies. Her main challenge was handling the “string of unfounded accusations [by her ex-husband] that separated her from her eight-year old son, Paul.”

 

I discussed my distaste for the first person point of view in one of my previous blog posts. I begrudgingly have accepted that when used appropriately, such as to recount memories, the first person perspective can add another layer of depth to the story. In fact, I believe that the agonizing aspects of this book could only be felt using “I.” For example, the following quote presents her raw stream of thoughts and her conclusions, where we as readers don’t have to infer things from the outside narrator:

“I look at him and realize he’s stronger…than me, the fact that we’re the same height…none of that makes any difference. That’s when I realize that the difference between a man and a woman is just…weight and muscles” (18).

 

Another aspect of the novel is the almost apathetic nature of CD. In multiple points in the novel, her reactions are monotone or seem lacklustre for the gravity of the situation. One example is her acceptance after her son sides with her ex-husband:

“I look at Laurent and see he’s thinking the same thing, I look at Paul standing behind his dad and see there’s nothing I can do” (18).

Another point is where she just accepts the nature of supervised visitation:

“I can understand how this drives people to despair” (94).

In these situations, I would expect more strong emotions to be depicted than were present. However, later in the novel there is somewhat of a switch where she begins discussing her emotions more. Such is observed when her ex-husband cancels the trip she was going to take with her son, and she feels upset and says:

“It’s Paul I’m crying for” (109).

This may be since these scenes transpired later and were easier to recollect, or the actual feelings she felt in the earlier scenes were too strong, traumatic or personal to want to immortalize in her writing.

 

One aspect of the novel that I want to draw attention to is the title. Love Me Tender was published under the English title, albeit having been written in French. I was confused about this choice after learning that the novel is literally based on parts of her life in Paris. Having an English title, almost takes away from that more personal aspect. Perhaps, this choice was made to distance herself from the traumatic experience of being separated from her child or maybe it represents the distance between her and her child during the legal battle, which may resemble the differences between two languages. Now, I ask you the same question: why do you think Debré gave this French novel an English title?

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Blogs Luiselli

why does every book have a character that likes reading?

I really enjoyed Faces in the Crowd, however, I found myself more confused than not over the course of my read. The multiple perspective changes (from the woman to Owen), the different locations (i.e. New York City and Mexico City) and the various time periods (for example, the woman’s present day compared to her young adult years) left me in a constant state of fight-or-flight, where I was trying to figure out who was the narrator and where each part transpired. I liked the role of time in the novel; the notion of the “future pluperfect” (96) tense lowkey sent me into a frenzy after remembering the hours I have spent learning conjugations. However, such a tense also tied the story from “three” perspectives together in both time (past and future) and space (New York).

 

I found the abrupt breaks in the woman’s and Owen’s memories of their youth quite interesting. I felt like such discontinuity almost added to the process of telling a retrospective tale, and how there may be missing parts when recollecting something that occurred x numbers of years ago. In a way, the fragmented aspect of this partially retrospective story emphasized the “unreliability” of the story: the woman and Owen are likely unreliable narrators. After realizing this, I begun taking the words I read with a grain of salt, especially since there is a plethora of missing information (as indicated by the abrupt narrative changes).

 

One thing I have noticed in this book and in many novels from other genres is that there is often a main cast member who enjoys writing and/or reading. For example, in Money to Burn, one of the twins somehow became a reader after his time in prison or Macabea who likes newspapers in The Hour of the Star. On that note, Faces in the Crowd really fulfilled such a literary “canon event” per say by having the women and Owen as writers and literary enthusiasts. We know that these characters are writers as they both state they are in the progress of writing a novel; similarly, we can infer that the women enjoy reading after learning about her hyper fixation on Owen’s poetry when she was in New York.

 

Initially, I believed that the aspect of having a “literary” main cast member was something authors do because they can’t conceptualize the fact that not everyone is like them (harsh, I know). However, I recently took some time to reconsider my thoughts, after consistently seeing this trend in literature. Perhaps, rather than just a desire to have characters that share their passions, such characters that enjoy literature are fragments of the authors themselves, allowing them to be encapsulated forever in their own creation. I think my newfound notion actually aligns extremely well with Faces in the Crowd, especially after considering the fragmented storytelling. I now leave the question to you, why do you think that many authors include characters that enjoy reading into their works?

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Agualusa Blogs

theres always a duo in a trio (idk how true that is but there are certainly duos in the chameleon).

 

I was actually really intrigued by this book. From the talking gecko, who’s not actually a gecko, to a silently marinating plot twist, what’s there not to be shocked by? It was incredibly pleasing when the title manifested in the story when the gecko’s true identity as an Argentine author was revealed: Borges was almost like a chameleon since he was disguised as another entity (can this work almost be considered a fanfiction lol??). Overall, the author’s utilization of pairs and differences from other works in this class captivated my attention during my read.

 

Agualusa’s use of pairs added another layer of depth to the novel, one that could only be properly appreciated when I was actively engaging with the text. One of the most notable pairs is the Gecko, later revealed to be Borges, and Ventura. Their dynamic as different but the same was intriguing. More specifically, we realize that they are physically different through the Geckos animalization of Ventura by calling him “the creature” (3). However, they are also similar in the sense that they both burn easily under the sunlight.

Aside: the use of pairs encouraged me to listed to “In Twos” by Esha Tewari during the writing of this post (super good song lol, I 100% recommend giving it a listen).

 

I would like to make some comparisons to the previous works we have read in this class; prior to making any claims, I acknowledge that these observations may have been influenced by the collection of novels I have chosen to read. Firstly, it quickly becomes clear that this novel was written around a time of political unrest after learning about Buchmann’s occupation as a “photojournalist” that collects “images of wars” (17), which is emphasized after his grand revelation near the end of novel. I noticed that many of the South American literature we have read has been during such unstable times; an example includes Money to Burn.

 

Despite the presence of the well-documented societal unrest in South American novels, such is not the case in the Western European romantic literature we have explored; the most notable example is Combray. In a way, it seems like the South American authors have aimed to encapsulate the surrounding socio-political unrest into the stories of their characters, which ultimately acts as an introspective window into their world and feelings. As a result, I leave you with the question, why do you think the discrepancy between the author’s portrayals of society exists? Perhaps it may be a product of my literary selections, it could also be a cultural difference between Europe and Latin America, or even, it may simply be attributed to indiviual author characteristics/stylistic decisions.

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Blogs Piglia

well…money was definitely burned

Up to this point, Money to Burn has been one of the most interesting books from this course. In fact, I found myself extremelt eager to find out what happens next. I really liked the suspense, the description and the close feeling to the characters. Two aspects of the novel stood out to me, one of them better than the other: Piglia’s depiction of woman and the irony at the end of the novel.

 

However, many of the male characters in this novel were incredibly weird, and I honestly despised the way Piglia portrayed women in the novel. Beware: rant incoming. Almost every time a female character was discussed, there was always a sexual undertone to it. It basically felt like women were constantly objectified. This aspect of the novel left a sour taste in my mouth and diminished my enjoyment of the book, which was disappointing since the premise of the story, the fast-paced plot and the narration were all really enticing.

 

I’m going to jump all the way ahead to the end of the novel: after the team successfully achieved their goal of robbing the bank, they burned the newfound money they acquired. This was incredibly ironic as it seemed like they did all planning and work for … well … nothing. Initially, I was confused as to why they were doing this. However, after thinking about it for a little bit, I thought that the action of burning the money was almost a “critique” of society: the world runs on money and some people would do anything for it. In a way, the main cast, and Piglia by extension, were setting themselves free from the money-driven mindset that had possibly governed their lives until now.

 

I found it interesting how every character had a “label” of some sorts. For example, Malito was the “Engineer” (8), or Brigone, one of the twins, was the “Kid” (4). At first, it seems like they going to package each character into their element, however, that didn’t really happen. As a result, I wasn’t really sure what to make of these character tropes by the time I finished the novel. Therefore, I want to ask you what you made of the labels. Did you think they had a purpose, if so, what was it? Or did you believe they were just some extra expositions used to introduce the characters and set up the story? I am excited to hear your thoughts!

 

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Blogs Manea

The Trenchcoat of the Unknownn

I’m not sure how to feel about this book, or is it even a book? Maybe this work is better classified as a short story. Regardless, the fast, fleeting nature of this piece helped capture the sentiments of the members of the working class, the “proletariats,” during the unfortunate times of war.

 

The start of this book was incredibly abrupt. We were introduced to an amalgamation of different characters, such as Ali, Felicia and Ioana, within the first few pages. It almost felt like navigating a friend group for the first time, where every member except you has known each other for years. As a result, it was difficult to follow what was going on. The dinner scene really highlighted our lack of context by making references to other characters that everyone in the dinner knows, but not us:

“They, meaning them, meaning Him, the audience knows it.” (196).

Whoever the narrator is discussing seems like common a figure to the characters in the novel, but they are completely unfamiliar to us.

 

In fact, the narrator actually breaks the fourth wall and addresses our confusion:

“For you, the observer, the Guileless One … The miracle of the instant already past, the deep, inaudible breath of the instant to come, chance and void and question: the uncertainty” (199).

Despite the initial confusion about the phrase, I started to notice that the “uncertainty” addressed by the narrator plagued the world of the characters. Such “uncertainty” and suspicion between characters emerged more clearly after the owner of the raincoat was questioned. For example, Dina asked Ali

“the same question” (219)

about the raincoat that she had asked two days earlier. Although this could be a simple accident, Dina kept pressing Ali and the other attendees of the dinner party. This lack of trust between the characters showcases broader information about the period the work takes place: during wartime. This sense of uncertainty was likely perpetuated by the larger social issues surrounding the main cast, which becomes apparent when discussing whom the raincoat belongs to, especially since war is never certain.

 

My question for you all is what makes someone a novel or a short story. Is it solely the length of a piece of writing? Or are there other stylistic or textual elements that contribute to the categorization of a work? I would argue that while the categorization of a short story can be guided by its length, I think that this one, albeit short, is not an example of a short story. This piece resembled an excerpt of a larger work, than a standalone piece of literature, since there was an overwhelming lack of exposition. However, this quality is what made the story a more convincing rendition of the war Manea hoped to portray: just like the abrupt start of the narrative, war often comes out of nowhere.

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Blogs Lispector

The Hour of Questions

I have to say that this has been my favourite book so far. I loved everything about it, from the engaging writing style to the mysterious nature of the author, and each page left me more eager to go on. It really seems like the overarching theme of this novel is the “unknown,” since there is so much unexplained information.

 

This narrator is a paradox: both humble and proud, mysterious yet close. Each paragraph made me more confused about who the narrator truly is what his actual intention is for writing the story. This quote reminded me of a riddle, it was almost like “what am I” would be placed right after it haha:

“The upper class considers me a weird monster, the middle class worries I might unsettle them, the lower class never comes to me” (8).

This sentence really highlights the unknown aspects of the author: even though he provided a description of himself, it is not nearly enough for readers to learn anything meaningful about him or his motives.

 

The first chapter was full of uncertainty. The author stated multiple times that he “would like to tell the story of the northeastern girl,” which almost felt like an effort to remind himself what his primary objective is. This act of also reinforced the unreliability in the narrator’s version of events. In fact, the narrator himself states that

“[t]his book is a question” (8),

implying that us as readers should not take what he says as face value. However, he still says,

“I prefer the truth in the foreboding” and that “the story is true” (4),

which highlights the nuance in his words. The repetition, his declaration as an unreliable figure, and his desire to emphasize the “truth” in the material led me to believe (very early on) that this guy is a ghost. The last paragraph of the novel confirms this:

“I just remembered that we die” (77).

 

Similarly, I had more questions about why he is telling us about her, why does he love her so much and why he knows so much about Macabea especially since

“the girl isn’t aware of [the narrator]” (25).

I think anyone’s first thoughts would consider him a stalker, which I agree with, but it seemed like he was almost an extension of the girl, to the point he died with her: “Macabea killed me” (76). It seemed like the more I read, the less I understood.

 

Overall, the “simplicity” (3) in the text, as said by our narrator, led me to question the line between truth and lies. Specifically, can something be considered “true” if information is intentionally or unintentionally omitted? In this novel, the lack of details, and paradoxical nature of the narrator made me extremely hesitant to trust anything the narrator said, despite his reinforcement of the “truth” in the story. But I’m not sure I can say that his story is a lie. I open the same question to you all: what do you think?

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Blogs Rodoreda

Quimet is a D1 Ragebaiter

I found The Time of the Doves interesting, and I liked Natalia’s narration throughout. I feel like I am slowly but surely overcoming my bias towards the first-person perspective. In fact, in this novel specifically, I believe that only the first person could have made me so infuriated about Quimet. In this blog post, I want to discuss how Rodoreda’s storytelling excels through its symbolism and lively narrative style

 

Quimet irritated me so much throughout the whole book. He was as annoying as the fly constantly buzzing in your ear on a sunny day, or as the fire alarm when it’s on low battery. My rage cannot be condensed into one blog post; as a result, I will focus on Rodoreda’s symbolism regarding Natalia and Quimet. The following quote (65) discusses Quimet’s thoughts about a dove:

 

“Quimet said we should keep [the dove], that he’d make a cage for it on the balcony so we could watch it from the dining room: a cage like a mansion, with an iron balcony, a red roof, and a door with a knocker. And how that dove would be the boy’s pride and joy.”

 

Quimet’s desire to keep the dove in captivity as his “pride and joy” showcased what he thought of Natalia, considering that he calls her Colometa (his little dove) (18).  Perhaps, his infuriating treatment towards Natalia can be explained by him wanting to keep Natalia in his control?

 

Another notable aspect of the novel was the “diary-style” narration, which highlighted the gaps in the storyline. I really liked how Natalia’s raw, unfiltered recounting of events unfolded in each section; her storytelling truly made every scene feel alive and interesting. For example, Natalia’s version of the scene describing the worm’s appearance (which was gross TT) was semi-entertaining. I think this may be attributed to her dismissal of the expected combined with her making connections to common real world things (78):

 

“We’d never seen one. It was the color of spaghetti made without eggs, and we kept it in alcohol in a jam jar.”

 

However, despite the entertaining nature of her journal entries, I found that they left me questioning the “in between.” For example, the jump from her pregnancy announcement to giving birth was extremely abrupt as a significant amount of time had passed between chapter. This brought me to question the nature of such entries: do they only mark special occasions, or are they are just randomly written (such as, whenever Natalia got a moment of rest). All the entries have at least some extent of crazy mixed into them, but a lot of the time it seems like it’s Natalia’s bizarre and lively narration that gives the somewhat mundane stories (more so in the first half of the novel) this appearance. That makes me believe that the novel is a collection of emotionally jarring moments in time, rather than physically exciting. Now, I leave you with the same question: how do you think these specific journal entries were created?

Categories
Arguedas Blogs Inequality

new character unlocked: a middle-class man

To start off this post, I really appreciated how easy the words of this novel was to read; AND ONLY THE WORDS, this book was also a emotionally hard to get through due to the emphasis on the unfortunate discrimination towards marginalized racial and social groups. The descriptions in the book also never overwhelmed me like some of the previous pieces we read, rather, every detail seemed extremely relevant to Arguedas’ world. Despite my categorization of an “easy read,” I had some difficulty focusing on the novel due to the mix of plenty of description AND lots of conversation. After my initial confusion, I realized that the conversations itself with another piece of detail the author was giving us (I know this seems super obvious TT, but I found that the previous novels we read in this course did not use spoken word like this).

 

I would first like to discuss Arguedas’ use of description and imagery and how Arguedas utilizes these literary tools as a lens into his surrounding world. Description is an incredibly effective world-building tool, while imagery seems more effective to explain current events in the novel. The descriptions given in the book, particularly the discrimination indigenous people within and outside of school, gives us insight about the society during Ernesto’s time.

 

It seemed like Ernesto exhibited a lot of character growth over the course of the novel: he realized that financial gain does not amount to ethical and emotional liberty. I thought this shift was strengthened by the following quote that connects such theoretical ideas into reality through him crossing a bridge: “on the hanging bridge at Auquibamba, I crossed over the river in the afternoon” (233).

 

One theme I noticed between all the novels up to this point, is that the main character has consistently been a member of the upper class. Deep Rivers, however, tells the story from a different perspective. We clearly see the levels of social inequality (and power dynamics) in his school, between the Indigenous people, the middle class and upper class students, told from the perspective of a middle class boy.

 

Finally, this novel brought me to question the backgrounds of the authors of the previous novels. Books are often reflections of larger societies and the author. Most novels were written by members of the upper class due to their perceived “larger” amount of free time. As a result, it makes sense for these authors wanting to elucidate their personal experience. However, this also adds a large amount of uncertainty to the books, especially when considering the lack of representation and erasure of the experiences of the broader population. So, I will now leave you with a question:  do you think an upper class author can truly represent the lived experiences of the broader population? Is it actually necessary to discuss the experiences of most of a population?

 

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Blogs Moravia

and the Grammy goes to … Agostino for the most Freudian MC!

This book was unsatisfying in so many ways: the novel felt extremely unfinished by the end due to Agostino’s glaringly evident “mommy issues,” self-centered personality and the lack of character development.

 

Agostino’s Oedipus complex has got to be a primary source for Freud’s central psychoanalytic theory TT. He beings being utterly infatuated with his mother (1-3), and then becomes jealous about Renzo’s relationship with his mother.” Somewhere along the line, this jealousy towards Renzo, manifests into a combination of adoration and hatred towards his mother.

 

Agostino, to me, was a very bland and self-centered main character that lacks any sense of self-awareness. Agostino’s blatant lack of self-awareness became apparent during the scene where he was almost “cosplaying” a boat boy. The following quote: “this small incident left Agostino with the feeling once and for all that he no longer belonged to the world of the children with the soccer ball, and that, anyway, he has sunk so low that he could not live without deceit and vexation” (78) showcases that Agostino believed that he was somewhere between being an elite and member of the working class. However, I would argue that his smugness after receiving his payment showcased how his actions were a cheap caricature of the poverty he was attempting to portray.

 

Agostino exhibits ZERO character development or growth. Firstly, Agostino states that he “want[s] to leave tomorrow” (101) after getting utterly deceived by Tortima. But honestly, can we even call it deceit, rather than naivety? At the start of the novel, a similar occurrence occurred where Berto assaulted Augustino after receiving cigarettes. Since that instance, I would say that none of the group acted any nicer to him, rather he was blind sighted by being “liberated” from his aristocratic world. His final humiliation was nothing but pure foolishness, rather than the deceit he described.

 

Moreover, his skewed perception of his mother as a “woman” or a “mother” that lasted throughout the novel did not get resolved. The main character believed that a woman he saw “had somehow confirmed the mother’s womanhood” (102) however, this revelation is really nothing new, from the start of the novel (1-3) the MC thought about his mother in these ways, just without overtly stating it. This showcases how he is unable to see the fact that “womanhood” and “motherhood” can exist concurrently, and how those terms are more nuanced than the MC’s disgustingly lustful portrayals of women. Therefore, I conclude that Agostino is a stale, privileged character that doesn’t learn from his experiences.

 

I realize that my critique on Agostino’s character development may come out as harsh, which is why I want to ask: do you think the storyline actually progressed enough for Agostino to reflect on himself and grow as a character?

 

Finally, in honor of the Grammy’s occurring right now, Agostino absolutely swept past Proust to get the award for the most Freudian MC (congrats, I guess?). Seriously, if I could summarize Agostino in one word, it would literally be Freud.

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