Mona and Other Tales covers Reinaldo Arenas's entire his recently rediscovered debut (which got him a job at the Biblioteca Nacional in Havana), stories written in a political prison, and some of his last works, written in exile. Many of the stories have not previously appeared in English.
Here is the tender story of a boy who recognizes evil for the first time and decides to ignore it; the tale of a writer struggling between the demands of creativity and of fame; common people dealing with changes brought about by revolution and exile; a romp with a famous, dangerous woman in the Metropolitan Museum; an outrageous fantasy that picks up where Garcia Lorca's famous play The House of Bernardo Alba ends. Told with Arenas's famous wit and humanity, Mona makes a perfect introduction to this important writer.
Arenas was born in the countryside, in the northern part of the Province of Oriente, Cuba, and later moved to the city of Holguín. In 1963, he moved to Havana to enroll in the School of Planification and, later, in the Faculty of Letters at the Universidad de La Habana, where he studied philosophy and literature without completing a degree. The following year, he began working at the Biblioteca Nacional José Martí. While there, his talent was noticed and he was awarded prizes at Cirilo Villaverde National Competition held by UNEAC (National Union of Cuban Writers and Artists). His Hallucinations was awarded "first Honorable Mention" in 1966 although, as the judges could find no better entry, no First Prize was awarded that year.
His writings and openly gay lifestyle were, by 1967, bringing him into conflict with the Communist government. He left the Biblioteca Nacional and became an editor for the Cuban Book Institute until 1968. From 1968 to 1974 he was a journalist and editor for the literary magazine La Gaceta de Cuba. In 1973, he was sent to prison after being charged and convicted of 'ideological deviation' and for publishing abroad without official consent.
He escaped from prison and tried to leave Cuba by launching himself from the shore on a tire inner tube. The attempt failed and he was rearrested near Lenin Park and imprisoned at the notorious El Morro Castle alongside murderers and rapists. He survived by helping the inmates to write letters to wives and lovers. He was able to collect enough paper this way to continue his writing. However, his attempts to smuggle his work out of prison were discovered and he was severely punished. Threatened with death, he was forced to renounce his work and was released in 1976. In 1980, as part of the Mariel Boatlift, he fled to the United States. He came on the boat San Lazaro captained by Cuban immigrant Roberto Aguero.
In 1987, Arenas was diagnosed with AIDS; he continued to write and speak out against the Cuban government. He mentored many Cuban exile writers, including John O'Donnell-Rosales. After battling AIDS, Arenas died of an intentional overdose of drugs and alcohol on December 7, 1990, in New York City. In a suicide letter written for publication, Arenas wrote: "Due to my delicate state of health and to the terrible depression that causes me not to be able to continue writing and struggling for the freedom of Cuba, I am ending my life... I want to encourage the Cuban people abroad as well as on the Island to continue fighting for freedom... Cuba will be free. I already am."
In 2012 Arenas was inducted into the Legacy Walk, an outdoor public display which celebrates LGBT history and people
Book of short stories, several of them are genius/masterpieces. "Alipio's Kingdom" is one of the best 5 short stories I have ever read. Magnificent stuff.
I really enjoyed this collection of short stories, though I read it over several months and lost the thread a bit. Arenas' writing is very bizarre at points, in a good way, but super weird. The Mona Lisa story was really interesting, I also loved the last story about leaving Cuba which was kind of all over the place but read as an emotional torrent instead of random writing. I didn't LOVE the book, even though it's probably deserving of 5 stars. Magical realism has never been my thing, it's definitely present in several stories, not because of the actual concept of it - which I like - but because there's a trend in magical realism writing to write very hard to follow plots that dip in and out of narration, description, character thoughts, and scenes. It can make the stories in this book a bit hard to follow at point, but overall it's still a fantastic read.
Having travelled to Cuba earlier this year and hearing about Arenas, I was intrigued when I saw this book at a used book sale. Arenas is creative and inventive, and the stories gave good insight into what life must be (have been?) like in Cuba. That said, each story was vulgar (there should be language/content warnings on books as there are on music), and often leaving me wondering what on earth I had just read.
This collection spans work Arenas had written during both his last years in his native Cuba and the decade of his life in the US after the Mariel Boat Lift in 1980. The stories run from dreamlike childhood passages (The Empty Shoes; In the Shade of the Almond Tree), absurdist black comedy (The Glass Tower; Mona; Halley's Comet) and full visceral imagery/magic realism (The Parade Begins; The Parade Ends; Something is Happening on the Top Floor).
All have the wide ranging themes and stylistic scope which make Arenas main body of work, the Pentagonia, so engaging and wonderful. A review of the final tale, End of a Story, below.
Once again, a story of stunning beauty which greets as a powerful kick in the stomach. It's a conversation between narrator and a friend dealing with the loss of their homeland, and their homesickness, in different ways. The author's is a blend of longing and hatred: a resolve never to return to Cuba, under any circumstances, and a full embrace of his new home in NYC. There in its cold excess he can accept he can accept the new cosmopolis just as he recognizes it as thoroughly accepting of him. One place where he can scream out his lusts, agonies and complaints without fear of judgment. Or, as was the reality of his Cuba, severe punishment.
The friend, to whom the whole story is addressed, can't find anything to love or become attached to in the US. He can see nothing else but vistas of home, a home which had brutalized and rejected him, and so many others, as well. Though apparently far ahead of the narrator in his comprehension and use of English, he is never able to rise over his loneliness, the deep yearning for Cuba dragging him at last to an end.
Although all of the tales in this compilation display Arenas' literary talent, there were several that struck me as particularly enjoyable, while others dragged on or did not hold my attention in the same manner. Arenas has a tendency to pour emotions and impassioned observation over the reader, with some of his stories told within a single paragraph spanning many pages. Despite his knack for conveying vivid perceptions, I was really impressed by Arenas' ability to simultaneously tell multiple stories, weaving a dream-like stream of observations and thoughts into a cohesive entity with several levels of interpretation. Of course, along with this, Reinaldo also speaks to the Cuban and Cuban-American experience of the last half-century, providing an intensely humanizing account of the events that occurred as well as a continuum of perspectives about them. Although this book was titled after the story "Mona" which was an interesting if not somewhat disturbing narrative centered around the famous da Vinci painting, the standouts were: "With My Eyes Closed" (a story about a boy's unfortunate trip for some chocolate cake), "In the Shade of the Almond Tree" (where a young man's attention is split between a young woman and an ill-fated tree), "Alipio's Kingdom" (about a committed stargazer) and "Halley's Comet" (a story about several women's experience at a party before the end of the world).
Anyone curious about any of Arenas's works after reading his autobiography or watching the film named after it, Before Night Falls, might want to explore this collection of short stories written by him. And should anyone pick up Mona and Other Tales, one might find that Arenas had a penchant for exploring black humor as well as the tragic. Of course, I think he is at his best when he writes about anything that comes across allegorical (as was the case with The Doorman). Of all the stories that I like most in this collection, however, is Mona, a story about a man who becomes fascinated with the beauty of a woman in the same vein that Leonardo da Vinci might have before he decided to paint the Mona Lisa.
This is a work of stories and other pieces of short fiction, much of which appeared to be experimental, or so it seemed to me because it resembled a bad nightmare. I’m not fond of reading ten or twenty pages and when I’m done I just shake my head and say, “What the F***?” In all fairness though, I did find one story, “Mona,” to be very engaging and thoroughly kept my disposition to incredulity aux abois. I know that Arenas is supposed to be one the Latin American greats (and they made a movie about his life), but I guess I’ll leave the experts to their precincts, and go search out my copy Ring Lardner short stories.
Arenas' inspiringly inventive collection of 14 short stories and one essay, many of which appear for the first time in English. The most inventive of these stories achieve a kind of contained giddiness, enabling us to see both the craft and magic in the author's work. When Arenas descends to reality, where Castro rules Cuba and any self- respecting artist must become an exile, his stories slide into despair. Friends turn into traitors, lovers become separated, and—as in the hellish "The Parade Ends," which has dissident Cubans squeezing through a living wall of flesh, sweat, tears, and excrement to reach a political safe haven—humanity is subject to degradation.
This collection of stories is varied in style but worthwhile. The title story, Mona, is a page turner (esp if you like visiting the Metropolitan Museum and the pre-Guiliani dingy Times Square). The final story and paragraph in the collection is extremely moving. Arenas died of AIDS in NY after escaping Cuba and persecution b/c of his writing and sexuality. His take on both the island he left behind and the one he chose to inhabit (Manhattan) intrigued this reader.
Reinaldo Arenas is, simply, an amazing, astounding writer. I would say he is incomparable. Some of these stories leave you breathless in their intensity, some leave you trying to understand what you have just read but astonished by the caliber the writing. In his work, he has extracted everything possible from the experiences of his life and has told of these things with what I can only call brilliance. He is an unqualified master.
I stopped reading this book because I liked it too much. I'm really sad for the day that I finish it.
Mona is really scary and enchanting. My roommate just came home with a Mona Lisa reproduction and I'm not sure I can hang (but she certainly can...aah cha cha).
A strange mixture of stories. Some great, some not so great. "The Parade Begins", "The Parade Ends", and "End of a Story" are three of the best stories I've ever read, though. Brilliant, beautiful prose.