Sunday, March 25, 2007

100 years more

warning: contains spoiler

Alas, I have finished, and I didn't want it to end.
I closed the covers of Cien Años and said goodbye to all the characters that I have grown to love. *sigh. I know that I have truly enjoyed a book when I am sad to finish it. Though as well, the ending is sad and tragic, especially the part where the ants carry off the dead newborn baby. Yikes. And those Beundía's, they sure can't stop falling into bed with each other. I wonder if it was a bit of a moral statement that the unbridled passion between Aureliano Babalonia and his aunt, Amaranta Ursula ended in the death of their pig-tailed newborn, not to mention the end of the whole town itself? The significance of Aureliano's last name I think plays into it a bit (as we discussed in class). It is interesting that the town went from it's origins of just a quiet place where the founders lived with hardly any access to the outside world, to a place of wars, commerce, whorehouses and a massacre (though, after writing whorehouses, I questioned whether it really belonged in the list as Marquez doesn't seem to have a real problem with whorehouses and puts them in almost every book; though, I'll leave it in anyways), mimicking Babylon somewhat (thanks to Mikael for filling me in on a more complete version of the story of Babylon). Though are the two punished for incest? They weren't aware that they were related. Maybe were they punished for being so madly in love? It seems to be more the trend in the novel. Those who fall madly in love are somehow punished. Starting with Aureliano and Remedios (who dies), Arcadio is killed after falling in love with Sofia de la Piedad, Meme is sent to a nunnery for falling for Mauricio, Pietro Crespi is punished twice over for his love of Rebeca and then Amaranta. I could go on, but you read the book. Just a thought, but I feel that the Buendía's were never destined for happiness and love, but for loneliness and solitude.

Telenovela

I think that it is too obvious to just say that the telenovela, Corázon Salvaje, is bad media/literature. This is apparent for so many reasons... it's overdone, overdramatized, melodramatic, poorly acted, Juan de Diablo had terrible hair... I could on, but I would rather talk about something else: such as, why are telenovelas so popular?

Though, first of all, I would like to address the issue of whether or not this is literature. I think it's arguable. I don't believe the series could fall into the category of literature if we were to only look at it as visual media, however, I will admit that, in some context, the screenplay could be considered literature as it was written. But we are not reading the screenplay so I would argue that what we are viewing is not literature.

Second, Why are telenovelas so popular? I can't say I didn't enjoy watching it, but only because it made me laugh. I didn't take any of it seriously. Like American soap operas however, the telenovela seems to be addictive and watched religiously. My own mother records her soap opera every day while she is at work. She has been watching it for over 15 years. The few times that I have watched it with her I have had to stifle laughter at how silly the whole thing is. It's so phony and overdone, but she loves it, just like so many other women. (I think that it should be mentioned that this genre is aimed primarily at women, especially housewives). I think that these housewives maybe feel that there lives are mundane and they turn to these shows as a way to escape. The melodrama and the luxuries appeal to them because it is world so far from theirs.

This reminds me... there seems to be a gender issue here that irks me. Why is it that the literature/media that appeals to women that we have studied in class are considered bad, and the one book that appealed to the men in the class was not really bad?

Sunday, March 18, 2007

10 años con mafalda??!!!


OK, what's going on Jon? I didn't buy this book at the bookstore originally because I thought, no, this can't be for our literature class (bad or not), there must be some mistake.
But no, this is what we are supposed to be reading.

I don't think the question here should be--is this bad literature or not, but, is this literature at all? This is a comic book. I mean, I'm not complaining, it's easy reading, it's cute. Some comics are funny, some not as much (though I realize this is personal taste), and some I don't understand because of their references to things in Argentina that I am not aware of. Personally, I don't think comic strips are literature, though I do think a graphic novel could be considered literature. However, I wouldn't put 10 Años de Mafalda under the graphic novel category because it doesn't have a plot, though maybe it does have subtext.

Although, I do think that this book can be studied. Like literature it has themes and characters and sometimes even, a political message. Also, I think a lot can be said about a country by it's popular culture so I am interested to discuss this in class, and perhaps, also learn something about Argentina. I think though, when you study popular culture, you are studying the preferences of what Jon would call the "middlebrow", and perhaps that was his intention of choosing this work. I think, especially now, there is a lot of debate as to whether popular culture has cultural merit. Is it "cultured" culture? If it isn't high culture, though it is popular culture, does it have cultural worth and can we say it defines a country or a people because it is popular?

characterization


I have been creating a list of character traits that go along with each character and their namesakes in order to keep them all straight in my head, and to see if certain personality traits are handed down from characters to their namesakes. This what I have come up with:

In the José Arcadio Buendía line:

José Arcadio Buendía
is an inventor, careless in his dress, obsesses over his ideas and creations, takes an interest in his sons educations, is a careless dresser, unusually strong, clairvoyant and of course, goes crazy in the end and is tied to a tree in the backyard.

José Arcadio (married to Rebeca) is said to have his father's character (p.14), though, unlike his father, lacks imagination, he enjoys excess (drinks, gambles and sleeps with many women until he marries Rebeca) and is also unusually strong and dies young, shot in his own house.

Arcadio (son of Pilar and José Arcadio and Pilar) does not recieve the full name of his father because he is illegitimite, takes an interest in education like his grandfather, but unlike his father, also has tremendous hereditary strength and dies very young. After impregnating Sofia de la Piedad with the twins, José Arcadio Segundo and Aureliano Segundo and fathering Remedios the beauty, he faces a firing squad, and is killed.

Aureliano Segundo (son of Arcadio). I put him in the José Arcadio line because the wise Ursula suspects that, during their mischievous games of pretending to be the other, they became confused and never changed back to the other. He was also a big, burly and strong man like his grandfather and great grandfather, was excessive, also like his grandfather. He had a good sense of humor and was very lucky. He marries Fernanda and fathers José Arcadio, Ursula Amaranta, and Meme.

In the Aureliano line:

Colonel Aureliano Buendía (who marries the young Rebeca) is silent and withdrawn, thinner than the Arcadios, is clairvoyant like his father, very proud, intense, brave and doesn't have the capacity for love (as observed by Ursula). He dies of old age against the tree in the backyard.

Aureliano José follows his father to war and I think he doesn't return? If anyone remembers this, I am missing a characterization of this Aureliano.

The 17 Aurelianos have the same intensity as their father and the same eyes.

José Arcadio Segundo (who was probably born Aureliano Segundo) follows in his Great uncle's footsteps and organizes a strike against the banana company. He is also quiet and reserved like the Colonel and spends his later years locked in a room reading Melquíades writings, similar to the same obsession Aureliano had over his gold fish.

(their are two more Aureliano's but I haven't gotten that far yet. I will fill the rest in perhaps at a later date)

My conclusion then is that, there are definite personality traits that are handed down through the names. The first José Arcadio Buendía seems to hand down traits to both his sons, but then after that, the José Arcadios seem to be strong and burly and drawn to excess. And the Aurelianos are more reserved, thinner and more intense, but are driven to fight (for the war and strike) and are natural leaders. This seems to be the same with the women as well but I will end this here because I could go on for another hour or so I am sure of I wanted.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Gender


(Arlt looks like a pretty intense guy)


I have no idea what else I can say about Los Siete Locos, except maybe that Arlt tried a little too hard to be both high brow and low brow at the same time. Though people's reactions to this book in their blogs and in class has made me think...

One thing that I have noticed about the books that we have studied in this class is how some of the books, namely Como Agua Para Chocolate and Eva Luna, were liked by some of the women in the class, but maybe none of the men. With Los Siete Locos, there seemed to be the opposite reaction. Not that this is a surprising revelation; however, it did make me wonder, especially after reading the Jane Austen article, if this contributes to what makes a book a bad piece of literature. Though, the opposite could be said about The Alchemist.

Take for example, a book that other members of the class and I are studying in Span 365, Cien años de soledad. This book, along with most others that we have been studying, are books readily enjoyed by both genders. Though, the books that we are studying in this class have generally been liked by only one gender. Does the exclusion of half of a potential audience make a book "bad"?

The Alchemist, I am sure you will agree, would be exempt from this list as it is not aimed at any one gender. But it is extremely accessible. As we discussed in class, this book is universal. It doesn't really leave out anyone, from child to elder, Muslim to Christian, man to woman... So, can it also be said that a book that swings too far in the other direction and becomes too universal is also a "bad" book?

Just postulating theories, I am interested in what the rest of you think...

Ancestry


Reading Cien Años de Soledad. I started to wonder what Gabriel Garcia Marquez's family was like. I wondered how much of this book reflected his own ancestry, so I did a little investigating and I found a story of his parents meeting, which started with a beautiful description of his mother, and also gave some insight into the size of his family... "My mother became a woman in a godforsaken hellhole. She had spent an uncertain childhood plagued by malarial fevers, but, once cured, she was cured completely and forever, and with her health as strong as reinforced concrete she was able to celebrate her ninety-fifth birthday with eleven of her own children, and four of her husband's, and sixty-six grandchildren, seventy-three great-grandchildren, and five great-great-grandchildren. Not counting the ones nobody ever knew about" (Serenade: How my Father Won my Mother 2001 The New Yorker ). An impressively large family, I am sure you agree, and I just wanted to share it with everyone.

As Marquez says, "Serenade" is about of how his parents came to be married and Love in the Times of Cholera is a based on his parents courtship. However, I did notice some similarities between his parents world and the world of the Buendía family:
First of all, like Ursula and José Arcadio Buendía, Marquez's mother's parents also moved away from a town due to her father having killed another man, "
her father, had killed Medardo Pacheco in a duel over a point of honor" and "Her family had moved to Aracataca after the killing of Medardo Pacheco".
I thought this quote about his own family was interesting and reflects a little on the Buendía family, "This atavistic prejudice, whose embers still linger, has turned us into a vast family of men with their flies open and unmarried women with numerous children in the street."

I also noticed that, in the Buendía family, most of the women are incredibly strong, especially Ursula and thought that this quote from "Serenade", about his mother, explains his the strength of character his females have in his novels. Here he describes his mothers sudden shift from daughter to a strong and wilfull woman "And she, who had been obedient and submissive, confronted her opponents with the ferocity of a lioness who has just given birth."
This quote reminded me of Amaranta's burnt hand, though it's not the same circumstances, they are very similar, "In the most corrosive of their many domestic disputes, Mina lost her temper and threatened her daughter with the bread knife. An impassive Luisa Santiaga stood her ground. Suddenly aware of the criminal implications of her wrath, Mina dropped the knife and screamed in horror, "Oh, my God!" And placed her hand on the hot coals of the stove in brutal repentance.
"
Marquez describes his father's mother, Argemira Garcia Paternina, and it reminded me of Pilar, (except for the physical description), "she was a slender white girl with a joyous nature and a free spirit, who went on to have six more children, by three different fathers."
And this quote reflects the politics of Cien Años, "
The family's opposition to Gabriel Eligio was even more ferocious because he was an active Conservative, a member of the party against which Colonel Nicolás Márquez had fought his wars." This story can be found on this website, it's very good and if you have read Love in the Times of Cholera, you will probably see similarities between it and his parent's story as well: http://www.themodernword.com/gabo/gabo_serenade.html

Sunday, March 4, 2007

Cien Años de Soledad


This is one of my favorite books. I read it a couple of years ago and loved it and I am excited that we get to read it in Spanish. I really enjoyed the storyline about the gypsies who come to town and, though the story isn´t so much about the specific characters, but the several generations of a family and how the actions of one generation affects the younger generations (I think that's why Marquez gave everyone such similar names, making the characters personalities blur into one another, making it difficult to distinguish one character from another), I still enjoyed the stories of specific characters.

What I really appreciate about this epic work of fiction is the contrast of comedy and tragedy, which I think says something very profound about life in general. There is much to analyze here and I think a whole course could be spent on dissecting this novel. I know there are things that I am missing, such as the social/political comment being made by Marquez. I say this because, in my experience of Marquez'z work, there tends to be some sort of criticism of the social and/or political sphere but I would need to read more of the book to get an idea of what that is in Cien años de soledad. I am guessing it's more subtle for some reason or another. Maybe because I truly don't understand the culture because I am not part of it. Gender is another important theme in this novel. I think it would be easy to classify each person into stereotypes associated with their names... but I will think more on that and write on a later week. Though, I think the stereotypes work well in a book like this because it not necessarily about the individual but about the family as a whole.

Los Siete Locos


What I find interesting about Arlt's novel, Los Siete Locos, is that, unlike the other works of fiction, it is not middle brow. I find the language really complex, so much so that I found myself rereading passages in order to understand what he was talking about. I like that he is not polite, nor does he apologize for not being so (for example: "--¿Dónde vas? Echóse a cuestas el sobretodo; después inclinándose sobre la cama de la mujer, exclamó: --¿Sabes adónde voy? A un pro´tibulo, a buscarme una sífilis" [142] ) but, I have to admit, sometimes I wasn't sure that I knew what he was talking about and I had to ask myself if it was maybe because the language was too complex or too colloquial for me to understand, or, maybe, some things didn't really make that much sense. However, I am not sure I have figured out why it is bad literature, but I will try to further on. I am very interested to see what Jon has to say. I googled Arlt and so far all I have gotten is that he is a genius, that Los siete locos is and "extraordinary classic" (Amazon.com). Though, again, I just don't get some of what he is talking about, as if the metaphors are so weird that they don't make any sense. Take, for example, the beginning of "El odio". It starts "Su vida desangraba. Toda su pena descomprimida extendianse hacia el horizonte entrevisto a través de los cables y de los ¨trolleys¨de los travías y súbitamente tuvo la sensación de aue cominaba sobre su angustia convertida en una alfombra¨(38). I understand this part, actually it´s rather poetic. He feels his life being drained from him and can see his anguish run down the cables on the horizon, then he feels like he is treading on his anguish like it is a carpet. Good good, liked that Arlt, do go on... "Así como los caballos que, desventrados por un toro se enredan en sus propias entrañas, cada paso que daba le dejaba sin sangre lo pulmones. Respiraba despacio y desesperaba de llegar jamás. ¿A dónde? Ni lo sabía" (39). What? Disemboweled horses? a bull responsible for the disemboweling? the horses slipping around in their own entrails? Maybe I just have spent too much time in the city because I don't understand what all this had to do with the nice part of the metaphor. Is it me or is this merely gratuitously disgusting, and nothing more. I think, be as disgusting as you like, but at least give it some meaning. It seems that Arlt is beating a dead horse with a metaphor, or a dead metaphor with a horse (wahaha). Anyways, where are you going? I don't know either.