spanish but not really

Fever Dream is definitely up there among one of my favourite novels we've read this term. I don't think it was necessarily my absolute favourite, but it's up there. And don't get me wrong, it's horrible, the whole premise of it is. But I think it's a very important topic to think and talk about, and it's one that I've encountered in various classes across my degree thus far. Specifically, this book made me think a lot about a class I'm taking this term, the Sociology of Development. Coincidentally, the prof for this class is also Argentinian and often brings anecdotes from Argentina to the class, so the connecting points with this texts were plentiful.  The environmental and human health degradation that comes as a result of "modernisation" is a subject area that desperately needs to be given more attention. Unfortunately it comes hand in hand with other forms of exploitation, like maquiladoras and export-processing zones. In the attempt to

 This week's novel felt like perhaps the most personal we have read so far this term. It is about a girl and her father, among a litany of other children, and a bunch of other people who see him as a sort of father figure. While reading it, I thought of two other books, one of which we read earlier on in the term (Pedro Paramo) and one that I read back in high school (Lullabies for Little Criminals.)  The main connection between these three works is the fatherly aspect. In Pedro Paramo and Papi, both characters - who are also the title of each book - play a paternalistic role to their communities in a very materialistic sense. Pedro Paramo controlled all the food and everything else in the village, such that when he died everyone perished. Papi had a similar characteristic too, in that he provided for the whole community (at a price). Not only did he provide for the narrator's community, but to most places he went.  As for Lullabies for Little Criminals, a story that was also (

I felt somewhat indifferent toward this novella, Distant Star by Roberto Bolano. It had a similar energy to the Borges book we read (which I hated) but in a more accessible fashion. I have previously encountered the Bolano Literary Universe thanks to a book we read last year in a similar class, and truth be told I don't think I really enjoy it - though I think it's slightly cool that he has his own alter ego that he puts in his stories.  The premise of this story, especially on the brutality of art front was interesting to read. As was the character of Carlos/Alberto. Having had conversations with my friends about the resurgence of true crime obsessions and how some people are drawn to serial killers, his character reminded me of those conversations. It's mentioned early on the story that the women in the group were drawn to him, and how he wasn't super friendly with the men. It's not like the women knew about his connections with all the Pinochet era killings and d

 I, Rigoberta Menchu is probably one of my favourites of the term so far. I believe it's the first (and only?) non-fictional text of the term - although this is partially debated a la Jon's lecture - because it's not a novel, but a testimonial about life as an Indigenous K'iche' Maya woman and her family in Guatemala during the civil war. The subject matter of this book was not completely foreign to me; having read and studied some of the impacts of colonialism and its impacts on Indigenous people, past and present, I think I came in to reading the story with a fairly good sense of what to expect. That said, I'd never read anything specifically about the case in Guatemala, so there was definitely much to be learned there. I can't say that I was completely surprised by what I read in the book, because I was already primed to expect absolutely horrible brutality. Nonetheless, I found the reading experience tough and sometimes found myself skimming over the mos

Captain Pantoja and the Special Service was written by Mario Vargas Llosa in 1973. I decided to read this novel because I'd heard of the author before, namely about the book "The Time of the Hero." I really wanted to like this book, but truthfully I was in two minds about it. Depending on factors such as whether I was fresh out of class about colonialism or social dynamics, how tired I was, or my mood, my opinion about it shifted. I can completely see why it would be funny for people, and I found it funny too when I was reading it in a more lighthearted state. But I also sometimes couldn't ignore the misogyny of it all, so I sometimes found it harder to enjoy. That said, I think it is a well-written piece of satire that makes good use of euphemism and absurdity to illustrate comedy, so I wasn't dwelling on the unsavoury tones of the book for too long. I suppose Captain Pantaleon Pantoja's role in the book could be summarised by the phrase "one thing led t

Finishing this book was like a whirlwind (though not as dramatic as the literal whirlwind at the end of the story of course.) I still find it an impressive feat that Garcia Marquez managed to fit 7 generations in a single novel without it being a Tolstoy-length monstrosity. This half of the story was a bit easier to wrap my head around, having got through the first half. However, a lot of my initial thoughts carried through. In my last blog post, I mentioned nominative determinism being the idea that your name somewhat dictates your character, and I could definitely see that in Aureliano and Amaranta Ursula's son - the one who was born with a pig's tail. They briefly considered giving him a name that hadn't been used before in the family, but decided against it, calling him Aureliano all over again and oh look he's got a tail and the family curse prevails. If they could "simply" untether themselves from the family curse and the seemingly neverending cycles the