A Brief Overview of Cuban Literature

We have ‘traveled’ to many places in the Caribbean throughout our literary journey this semester, but we were only able to briefly stop in Cuba by watching the animated film, “Chico y Rita.”  While I personally enjoyed this film very much and was intrigued that we explored a country via movie instead of through a piece of writing, I thought it would be interesting to do a brief overview of the works that fall under the umbrella of ‘Cuban Literature.’

Cuban literature first emerged at the end of the 18th century and started progressing into the beginning of the 19th century.  Early Cuban writers began to give a name to Cuban literature and distinguish themselves by writing passionately on the subject of freedom.  One of the most notable writers who intently covered the struggle for independence from Spain, fought ruthlessly for Cuban freedom, and is said to have “led the Modernist movement in Cuban writing” is José Martí, known for his personal yet “deceptively simple” prose, mostly in the form of poems.  Following Martí was a slew of writers devoted to winning freedom from Spain and are categorized under the pre-Castro period which was riddled with social protest.  These writers include Nicolás Guillé and Jose Z. Tallet, both poets, to name a few.  Guillé is well-known as one of the leaders behind the founding of he Afro-Cuban school of literature.

The 20th century saw an explosion of Cuban literature, mostly in the form of short stories, interspersed with a handful of influential novels.  The notable novels include Alejo Carpentier’s ¡Ecué-Yamba-Ó!, “a tribute to Afro-Cuban life and culture, and El Siglo De Las Luces, “which portrays the violence and chaos wrought on the Caribbean during the French Revolution.”  José Lezama Lima was one of the most prominent short-story writers of the time, as he is considered one of the most influential Cuban writers of the 20th century.  Cuban native writers have been discussed thus far, but Cuban literature cannot be fully appreciated without highlighting the work of American author, Ernest Hemingway.  Having lived on the island for several years, Hemingway did a lot for creating a name for Cuban literature and presented Cuba from an interesting perspective with his Pulitzer Prize winning novel The Old Man and the Sea, about “an old Cuban fisherman who, after an extended struggle, hooks and boats a giant marlin only to have it eaten by voracious sharks during a long voyage home.”  It is also important to note the large number of Cuban writers who published works during this time period and were internationally recognized for those works, but were ultimately exiled after failing to comply with the very restraining government censorship regulations that were in place — these authors include Reinaldo Arenas, Guillermo Cabera Infante, Leonardo Padura Fuentes, and Ronaldo Mendez.

While there is not necessarily an immediate association when it comes to Cuban literature, such as with 100 Years of Solitude/García Márquez/Colombia, it is important to consider the depth of art, including the literature, when studying a particular place.  Like many of the other countries in the Caribbean that we have covered throughout the semester, it is clear that Cuba has a deep history of literary works that follow the patterns and vividly depict the history of the nation.  The complex history and it’s prominent presence in the Caribbean makes Cuba an integral point of focus when studying the Caribbean as a whole.

“A Cuban writer had to be a social being with sufficient class consciousness, both of the historic moment and of the intellectual’s responsibility in society, which was to write what one was supposed to write.  In short: a compañero was someone capable of handling with skill the casting art of self-censorship to avoid the insult of being censored.” — Leonardo Padura, a 21st century Cuban writer on what it means to be a Cuban writer and the social function of writing in Cuba.

Sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuban_literature

http://www.cubaabsolutely.com/Culture/articles_literature.php?id=The-30-best-works-of-Cuban-literature

http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/145542/Cuba/54412/Cultural-life

http://www.worldliteraturetoday.org/2013/may/writing-cuba-twenty-first-century-leonardo-padura#.VH0pqosl820

http://www.cubaluxuryhotels.com/front/about_cuba/information/cuban-literature/8/en

A ‘Really Real’ Piece of Writing

My copy of “This is How You Lose Her” by Junot Díaz was sitting on my desk in my townhouse when one of my roommates walked into the room and exclaimed: “oh my gosh, you’re reading this!?”  I told her that although I was reading it for my Caribbean Lit class, it was one of the first books in a long time required for school, that I would have picked up and read for enjoyment on my own.  She could not have agreed more, and mentioned that she had read it over the summer.  We began discussing how much and why we enjoyed it, and how it truly influenced our perspectives and expectations in terms of desires, feelings, and relationships.

I think as a girl reading the “This is How You Lose Her,” a very consuming cascade of emotions were brought to light due to the different perspectives that the subject matter could be looked at from.  On one side, the storyline can be very relatable in a literal way…the boyfriend you thought you really liked/loved does something or a series of things that leave you disgusted and wanting to slap him in the face…so maybe you do that, maybe you don’t, but you end up leaving him.  Even more interesting was the insight that it provided into the more emotional side of boys handling a breakup or dealing with their mistakes in a relationship.  While the general consensus is usually that girls ‘care’ about things more than boys do, it was almost shocking, but in a way very touching to see that in some cases boys suffer losing a girl or a tough break up just as much and just as emotionally as girls do (although their handling of the situation is often very different.)

One of the most intriguing things that we discussed was the thought of Díaz writing another novel to follow-up “This is How You Lose Her,” from the female perspective, which we decided could possibly be titled “This is How You Leave Him.”  It is very evident that Díaz was writing from a very personal place and his main character, Yunior, went through many similar things that the author went through in his love life.  It would be very interesting to see whether or not Díaz would be able to produce another work from a female perspective, that was able to resonate so strongly with both men and women, as he was able to do with “This is How You Lose Her.”

This whole interaction and conversation about this novel is a true testament to Díaz’ incredible ability to emulate the ‘regular person’ through his writing, all while being extremely blunt and honest with the situations, feelings, and emotions that he is able to surface.  The bottom line is that Yunior, and Díaz for that matter are just trying to figure their lives out, and that is what makes the whole piece so intriguing and relatable — that’s what everyone is trying to do, figure their life out.  There is nothing better than reading something that resonates within you, and it is quite refreshing that it was actually a book that was assigned for a school class.  I thoroughly enjoyed reading “This is How You Lose Her” and definitely plan on delving into Díaz’ other novels in the very near future.

Picture on a Postcard

If you meet someone new while you’re at college, and you ask them where they are from, they probably won’t respond with “the United States.”  Chances are, they will tell you they are from “Massachusetts!” “Connecticut!” “New York!” or whatever state they are from.  The same thing would occur if you asked someone from the Caribbean where they are from…they probably wouldn’t respond with “the Caribbean” but rather they would tell you the specific country from which they are from.  This is indicative of the fact that people are inclined to strongly identify with a specific place of origin due to the incredible pride they feel towards defining themselves by where they are from.

The following link is to an article written in the New York Times with several vignettes written by Caribbean authors about their respective places of origin.  The authors were asked “how do you define the Caribbean?” and all of them immediately responded with postcard scenes from where they are from.  The vignettes that they presented give unique insight into where they are from, and provide personal accounts from their childhood that cause them to associate specific things to where they are from — whether it is food, customs, or places, humans define their cultural identity and feel pride towards things and memories that are not only made but retained throughout their lives.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/10/travel/my-caribbean-5-vignettes.html?pagewanted=all&module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3Aw%2C%7B%222%22%3A%22RI%3A18%22%7D&_r=0

Living in English, Dreaming in Spanish

In 2008, a writer from the New York Times visited a then 68-year-old Esmeralda Santiago in her home in Katonah, New York, as part of an article that she was working on regarding Santiago’s new book “Conquistadora.”  In discussing the novel, the lively Santiago could not help but touch upon the struggle that she went through while writing, that being a massive stroke that she suffered causing her to have to completely learn her native language, Spanish, and second language, English completely over again from scratch.  This process took Santiago over 18 months, during which she listened to books on tape, and went to her local library to immerse herself in children’s books and simple magazines — she had to literally start from the beginning, she did not know how to read, write, or speak either language.  What I found most interesting in her account of her suffering and rehabilitation is that she equated having this stroke to her experience coming to the United States when she was a 13-year-old child, as illustrated in her novel that we are covering in class, When I Was a Puerto Rican.  Take that in for a second…she equated coming to the United States when she was a young child…to having a stroke.  Santiago chose to focus mainly on relearning English due to the fact that the majority of her work is done in that language, but was adamant in relearning both languages, a testament to her embodiment of having a dual identity.

There is a concept that we have been discussing in my sociology class known as ethnocentrism.  This is the “belief in the inherent superiority of one’s own ethnic group or culture.”  I think this is part of the core issue when people come into the United States and attempt to integrate into the society.  Despite how willing they are to adapt and become part of the culture, there is always an incredible stigma that American’s have against people who are not incredibly accustomed to the society.  As Santiago illustrated in When I Was a Puerto Rican, it is not just adults who make it difficult for people who are different to become integrated into American society, but children as well because of how they are brought up with a complete misunderstanding for those who are different.  Americans exhibit the concept of ethnocentrism throughout their lives, and it is made completely apparent when dealing with newcomers into the country, like Esmeralda and her family from Puerto Rico when she was young.

Here’s the article, in case you’re interested in taking a closer look!

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/25/books/esmeralda-santiagos-conquistadora-is-a-puerto-rican-epic.html?_r=1&

Confusion With a Purpose

Even after reading 100 Years of Solitude for the second time I can wholeheartedly say that the similarities between the names in this book made it even more difficult/challenging than it already is. My initial thought has always been: “why not have a version of the book where all of the characters have completely different/distinct names?!”… this would allow you to focus just on the story, right? But after taking a deeper look into this incredible literary work, I have begun to understand that the names are the story…the circularity of the similar names passing from generation to generation, is the story. I think one of the most important things to consider when coming to terms with how confusing these names are is the intention of the author in doing this — Marquez absolutely did this on purpose. Time, for the most part, was not usually explicitly discussed throughout the novel, but the repeating names masterfully made time extremely apparent and important.  The trends that existed and continued through generations of families were magnified by the fact that they appeared to be happening to the ‘same people’ when, in fact, they were different people in the family lineage with extremely similar names.  This circularity also presents the idea that while big changes may have appeared to be occurring within the town over time, the interpersonal interactions and situations that are natural and bound to happen in life will always occur no matter the surrounding.  Once again, for as confusing as the names were in this book, it is important to remember that Marquez had a purpose in doing it, and a deeper examination of the dimension that is added with the confusion allows for a deeper appreciation and understanding of the work.

Aracataca-Macondo

“I feel Latin American from whatever country, but I have never renounced the nostalgia of my homeland: Aracataca, to which I returned one day and discovered that between reality and nostalgia was the raw material for my work.” – Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The small, banana-growing town of Aracataca, Colombia is considered one of the fundamental sources of inspiration behind Gabriel García Márquez’s greatest work – the muse behind Macondo, the town that serves as the sage for quite possibly one of the greatest literary masterpieces of all time, “One Hundred Years of Solitude.”

Márquez was born in 1927 in a small house in Aracataca owned by his maternal grandparents, Doña Tranquilina Iguarán and Colonel Nicolás Ricardo Márquez Mejía, two additional significant sources of inspiration throughout his career. Despite his family roots in Aracataca, Márquez moved away from the town when he was only nine years old. While he was adamant in sighting Aracataca as a source of inspiration throughout his career, Márquez barely ever returned to the Colombian cost, instead living the majority of his life in countries in Europe and primarily in Mexico.

Now, it is interesting to look at the contrasting opinions that the people of Aracataca and throughout Latin America have on Márquez. Most people are incredibly thankful for the bright spotlight and awareness that Márquez raised about the small, cut-off town.  As posted in a New York Times Article, many locals and people throughout Latin America sing their praises for literary genius: “Jorge Polo, 54, a merchant and palm oil farmer who met Mr. García Márquez on a few of his visits here, said, ‘We gave him his nationality, and he gave us recognition. We thank him for the happiness of having been born in Aracataca.'”  But, on the opposing and presumably less-common side, people, including the likes of his own daughter, Isabella Vidal, believe that Márquez abandoned Aracataca and forfeited an opportunity to use the wealth he acquired as a prolific writer to do good in a town that had struggled for centuries. “What did he give to Aracataca?…for me, he has done nothing” states Vidal. Héctor Abad, a Colombian novelist makes another point on the side of anti-Márquez-worshipers: “there [was] a downside to the long shadow cast by Mr. García Márquez’s genus. His magical realist style was poorly imitated by many, in touristy novels portraying a clichéd version of Latin America.”

There is no doubt that Márquez is one of the literary giants of our time.  As with most prolific authors, specific sources of inspiration can easily be identified, but what is often not looked at is the impact that a moments work may have on the author’s source of inspiration.

Sources:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/5116004.stm

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/04/19/gabriel-garcia-marquez-hometown_n_5178757.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/04/21/world/americas/magic-ebbs-from-colombian-town-that-informed-an-authors-work.html