2015: The Year of Reading Women discussion
R's
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The Time of the Doves by Mercè Rodoreda
Bloodorange wrote: "Linda wrote: "The only thing I see so far is about Barcelona, not Catalunya as a whole. The upper class lives way up on the hill (remember how Quimet said they were going to need a house farther up..."Will have to go back and re-read the part where she studies him. Though I doubt that she doubts his sincerity.
It's weird, but yes, it translates. Working a lot in Latin America, I realize that it's the reverse. In America or in Europe, to be high up on the hill usually means avoiding too much contact with the lumpen, and real estate costs more. Just the view? I guess.
In Latin America, however, the inverse is usually true. The higher up the mountain or hill that you go, especially in some places such as Brazil, Mexico, or Colombia, the less access you have to city services, such as drinking water (it doesn't flow uphill) and electricity. Think of the favelas and shanty-towns. So, in those areas, the higher up you go, the lower your economic status.
This is all city-center, so this may not be relevant to the discussion, but in Barcelona, there used to be shanty-towns on the city's fringes, when people started moving away from the countryside en masse to the industrial areas in search of work and a better life. I can't remember which book it was we read, I think Eduardo Mendoza, where they mentioned that the government was forcing anyone coming into the city near the train lines to get back on the trains and would ship them back to the country. So, people who were living in the shanty towns, chabolas I think they're called in Catalunya, when they wanted to visit their family, would start walking along the train lines closer to the city center. The government would pop them onto the trains and ship them back to the country and voila! Free trip home to visit your family! :)
Oh, and I forgot, but in Latin America, when the shanty-towns are up on the mountain, there's also increased risk of losing the home due to mudslides and earthquakes.
Thanks! I knew about the Latin America and the favelas, but has no idea what the situation looked like in Spain.To repeat my previous question: Are we putting Rodoreda on hold until, say, Monday, 1 June?
No, not that I know of......I'm still in it!
That is to say, I'm ready to start discussing....go for it!
Aaaa! I must have misunderstood what you wrote about the overload. (But I was a good girl and asked on Monday!)Can you start first? I'll try to make a dent in it this weekend (at the cost of The Lacuna. Exam papers have cometh...). I'll leafed through the book and have a general idea of what's coming (poor everyone...), so I have no fear of spoilers.
Well, I still have a luncheon with reps from Spain today, and a 100+ pp to go for tomorrow's f2f in Boston, but can start discussing it...(I thought we were working bit by bit, not all at once).Well, you were right about Mateo, he was fishing. But....ah! no spoilers! Though I think you're at least where I am, if not farther.
I've reached that point where she's run into Julieta, and remembering her past life with nostalgia, especially those days when she wore the white uniform and had time to stroll the city (time for strolling is probably something that any parent of young 'uns longs for, but that obsession with white that Zanna pointed out.....perhaps for a time when she was young and innocent, whereas now she feels tired and cynical--even though she may not know enough to call it that).
I'm here. Will try to add something tonight. Sorry about the misunderstanding!
No worries, but we may have lost Zanna, so I've been trying to hurry!
I think we lost Zanna before we even started - she published her review nearly three weeks ago.
I'm in chapter 30. It feels so realistic - they all try to believe the war is temporary and not the real thing, and are amazed that something like this happened to them, peace-loving, fun-loving people...
Was there a connection between anti-Church sentiments in Mexico and Spain?
Don't know/think so. In Spanish America, I know that the Church has always been linked (until the sixties) with the upper class, the elite. In Spain-Franco was pro-Catholic, and wanted a Spain that was "unified" in religion, language, etc. Here's a long post from Spain: Then and Now. Note the reference to Catalonia halfway thru:The Catholic Church was the institution that most benefitted from Franco’s victory. Its hierarchy had blessed the Nationalist uprising as a crusade and had justified the war to the world as an “armed plebiscite.” Now it reaped the reward. Franco quickly abolished all those Republican** measures that had undermined the Church’s spiritual and social roles, and entrusted it with more power and privilege than it had enjoyed since the 18th century.
For the Church, the privileges constituted a spiritual “reconquista” complementing the political “reconquista” enjoyed by Franco and his Nationalists. What the political “reconquista” meant was the return to Castilian centralism and the elimination of other ideologies. The “reconquista” for the Church signified Catholic monopoly over the life of all Spaniards, a vital privilege if society was to be “re-Catholicised”. This “re-Catholisation” was not an easy undertaking keeping in mind that, in supporting the Nationalists during the War, the Church had alienated a large percentage of the population. .....The privileged status of the Church was granted immediately following the Civil War. A little later --in June 1941-- its rights were outlined in an Agreement between the Vatican and the Franco government, and finally formalised in a Concordat signed in August, 1953. Amongst the provisions were: 1. recognition of Catholicism as the official religion of the country; 2. mandatory religious instruction at all educational levels in conformity with Catholic dogma; 3. financial support of the church by the state (paying the salary of priests and contributing to the (re)construction of church buildings); 4. guaranteed representation in both press and radio. To ensure that the Church hierarchy consisted of supportive members, Franco was granted the right to participate in the selection of bishops....The symbiotic relationship between the Franco regime and the Church depended on both parties retaining a shared vision of each other’s role in the destiny of Spain. Each was happy to cocoon the country in a nostalgic, imperial and Catholic past. But Franco did not let the church dictate the terms of their relationship, and Spain was in no danger of becoming a theocracy...For the first ten years or so, things went according to plan. There was a healthy attendance at Mass, a high intake of young priests and a robust construction of seminaries and churches. Pilgrimages to local shrines (romerías) were in as were catechism classes. Mission retreats became very popular, often attended by local politicians. Religious tracts were widely published, and dangerous or offensive books, magazines, photographs etc. were ritually burned in public squares. The Inquisition might be dead, but its spirit was still alive in Franco’s crusading Spain. Religious conformity was demanded, and largely achieved. Those who resisted suffered, especially where jobs often depended on a favourable letter from the local priest.
The power of the Church seemed unassailable. And yet within twenty years, the Institution was to undergo such radical changes that overturned not only the favours it enjoyed under Franco but the very monopoly over spiritual matters that it had pursued relentlessly for centuries.
Rapid industrialisation and urbanisation challenged social norms, increasing consumerism fueled demands for goods and services, and yearly invasions of tourists brought new ideas and new modes of behaviour. This social and economic transformation was a challenge at all levels, but as a bulwark of the status quo the Church was particularly susceptible. It was aware of the dangers it faced, especially in the rapidly growing cities, and as early as the 1940s had recognised how important it was to fish in waters that were traditionally anti-clerical. In those early post-Civil War days, lay Catholic organisations flourished, e.g. the Juventud Obrera Católica (Young Catholic Workers) and the Hermandades Obreras Acción Católica (Catholic Action Workers’ Brotherhoods), carrying the Catholic message to the workers. But with time as the lay Catholics became more acquainted with the social problems and political injustices faced by workers, so they became more critical of government and employers’ policies. Gradually they began adopting a more radical, adversarial stance against the government, assuming in many cases a role equivalent to trade unions, officially banned under Franco. Their activities placed the Church hierarchy in a difficult situation.
A consequence of the lay movement was the activity of many of the priests who served as chaplains to the lay members. Mostly young and idealistic, these priests worked in the barrios to bring the word of God to the workers. However, in many instances the social awakening of these priests had a greater impact on their own lives than they had on the religious life of those they had been sent to save. Many of these priests became known as curas rojos ("red priests"), and got engaged in illegal union activities even removing their dog collars as a sign of solidarity with the workers....
The transformation of the Spanish church was also affected by events that took place in Catalonia and the Basque Provinces. Here religion got mixed with nationalist and linguistic sentiments which led to clashes within the Spanish Church itself. Even during the Civil War Basque priests had dissented from the mainstream church and had supported the Republic and many were executed by the Franco regime. In 1960 Basque priests signed letters protesting the abuses of human rights, the suppression of their cultures and the prohibition of their language in their homeland. In 1964 Catalan priests did the same. Until 1965, priests in these two peripheral areas of the country were even prohibited from giving their sermons in their native languages. The confrontations between the priests and the Franco regime became increasingly public, and the sight of state police beating priests not only shook the Church but also progressively undermined the legitimacy of the Franco regime.
With pressure from the Vatican, and with the grass roots priests in closer contact with the people, it was only a matter of time before social awareness began to filter upwards through the church hierarchy in Spain. In addition, as older priests and conservative bishops died, younger and more open minded figures replaced them.
The Franco regime could hardly accept such a declaration without comment. Almost immediately the caudillo reminded the Church that the Civil War had been fought in defence of Christian civilisation, and that it had been blessed by the bishops as a crusade. By now, however, the Church had cast its lot sufficiently with the people to make another radical public statement in January 1973 in which it expressed support for profound changes in our institutions to guarantee fundamental rights for citizens, such as the right of expression and association (Catholic Herald, UK). Furthermore, the document affirmed that the Church needed no privileges, and that it sought to cooperate with the State but on the basis of a new formula of collaboration that excluded clerics from the state’s political institutions. It also called for reconciliation between Spaniards; no more division into conquerors and conquered.
This voluntary surrender of monopoly over the spiritual life of the people and recognition of freedom of choice was a major step in releasing the Spanish church from its own ghosts. It is one of the defining moments in the history of the Church in Spain. The institution that had fought so long for the soul of Spain had finally recognised the anachronism of battle when it purported to serve the Prince of peace.
This is not to say that the Church abandoned its spiritual responsibilities nor its interests, but in becoming a Church for all Spaniards, it became too a voice of reason and moderation. In this capacity, and under the guidance of the broad-minded Cardinal Tarancón, it contributed to the transition to democracy in the months following the death of Franco in 1975. It still haggled vigorously over the omission of any reference to the Catholic Church in the draft version of the new Constitution (1978) and was rewarded with a brief declaration (Article 16) that the state would maintain appropriate relationship with the Catholic Church and other confessions. But this was really not much more than a nod to its historic role; the article grants it no more privileges or powers than to other confessions.
Thank you for posting this. I can't read it now - need to make breakfast - but will.Finished chapter 30. Julieta's story seems like a mix of kitchy novels for maids and the Gothic; I wonder whether it is real, or at least to some degree invented. I find it ironic that the revolutionaries' romance takes place in such a place. And that she takes the dress, which should symbolize to her the very order she fights against.
It is odd to compare Natalia's reaction to Mateu's plea for something to remember her by and what he tells her (none) to one to Julieta's dream-like account of the romantic night. They still seem very young, and have very unrealistic and kitchy image of what love should be like.
Agreed! (as I dash off to the f2f club). At the same time, as I read Julieta's account (which remains platonic, no sex involved in what is "truly" romantic...), I kept flashing back to "The English Patient". Of course, different circumstances-in TEP, it was a planned, romantic date. Here, it was a case of whatever they could find available. Still, interesting that she at least depicts the women as participating on or near the front lines. I don't recall ever seeing that in any other novel of the Spanish Civil War. Ever.
Linda wrote: "Don't know/think so. In Spanish America, I know that the Church has always been linked (until the sixties) with the upper class, the elite. In Spain-Franco was pro-Catholic, and wanted a Spain that..."I've read the whole text, thank you! What a strange (and uplifting) evolution... I also read the Polish Wikipedia entry on the Spanish Civil War - didn't know the trams were owned by the Church! On a more serious note, the entry discusses the killings, by nationalists, of priests who did support the Republican side (they, too, mention the repressions against the Basque clergy).
I finished chapter 36. today (bedtime: I'm doing it wrong - no reading aloud, though), and the good news is it ends well for Natalia at this point. I have some fragments bookmarked - some hunger-induced hallucinations, and another teddy bear scene - but I cannot write now. will try to do it tomorrow morning.
Tell me if you got any answers about The Time... from your bookclub colleague!
Sheidn't come! But sent me a ? thru organizer ! text, so will just email her and will ask!
Chapters 31-32.It strikes me that she can makes mental notes of how beautiful something is, as with the blue light. The scenes in the refugee camp for children, as well as description of Antoni upon return moved me, but still I was annoyed at Julieta's "I couldn't have done it" reaction - how could she know? And why make it even harder for Natalia? Also, if I remember correctly, she was the one who offered to take Antoni to the camp? I have the impression that Rodoreda sets her to be this stereotypical single friend - someone mobile, unburdened by the children. This might have started in the scene when she brings Natalia a gift after Antoni is born and tells her not to think too much about it, since he will die anyway. I understand where this is coming from, but it still is a tad insensitive.
I think Rodoreda was a bit heavy on symbolism with the dead pigeon.
Chapter 33.
I'm a bit lost as to whether I understand her reaction to Mateu (view spoiler). She later sees him, not Quiment, in one of her visions, and there's also Griselda, who visits her, all cool and elegant, and looks at her with her green eyes.
Chapter 34.
Rodoreda conveys Natalia's helplessness and isolation through hunger visions, her final resolution - we are clearly to understand that she has no other choice - her fear she will be killed because her husband fought on the losing side, as well as the fact that she has no one to talk to. She now goes through hell, which is conveyed through a vision of hands furiously shaking her children - war doing them the ultimate injustice, making it impossible for them to survive and grow.
The teddy bear scene is creepy as usual.
Chapters 35-36.
The scene with Quimet's apprentice (journeyman?) only highlights the theme of the winners and the losers. The fat lady in a shawl who so captivates Natalia seems to be a monarchist/ conservative widow, am I right? The apprentice behaves very decently towards her, and she feels some connection with the lady, which shows it's not all about the divisions. The war hasn't completely destroyed the bonds between people - even though Natalia is on her own, she feels connection to people in general.
While I believe I mostly get the Church vision scene, I don't know why the little red bubbles?
The scene in which Natalia is saved reminds me of an anecdote Tara Brach used in one of her talks, of a woman who found herself perfectly capable of giving money to the homeless man in the street, but not looking him in the eye, because, as she said, "If I really looked at him, he would be sleeping on my living room couch." Someone finally looks at her.
Aside from this scene, the most striking thing about chapter 36, for me, was the short paragraph in which Natalia finally pities herself, for a moment, after all she went through - a short paragraph which is a condensed biography, of sorts:
"I could read and write, and my mother taught me to wear bright dresses. I could read, and write, and I sold sweets, cookies, and liquor chocolates. And I was no different from the people in the street. I could read, and write, and I would work, and be useful..."Also: I found a good article online - it contains a long section on The Time of the Doves: http://quarterlyconversation.com/merc...
Chapters 37 and 38.The description of the carpet she opens chapter 37 is like a cinematic cut, stressing the enormous change in her life. The last chapters were set in the streets, in public location, or at home, which offered no protection. Now she's taken into this very safe, kitchy, tiny household.
She starts with the carpet and ends with the bed. (view spoiler)
She describes a slow return to the normal; her children crave physical contact with food.
Why does she keep touching the scales? I'm tempted to go back to see whether there is any kind of pattern.
Chapters 39-41.No comments; the mouse in Ch.41 is a possible example if animal symbolism? Esp. as Natalia starts Ch. 42 by admitting she feels too anxious to leave the house.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 31-32.It strikes me that she can makes mental notes of how beautiful something is, as with the blue light. The scenes in the refugee camp for children, as well as description of Antoni u..."
Just catching up to you. Got to the part, late last night after the incoherent 1 am post (:))where she finds out he's dead. Kind of abrupt. "They told me that he and Cintet, as others, had died, and gave me what was left: the watch." It's supposed to serve as proof, but with the soap operas that we have today, you almost expect him to show up again, having traded the watch to someone for food or something he needed more.
I thought the same thing of Julieta...why suggest sending him to this camp, and then say "I could never have done it."--more than just insensitive...cruel.
And yes, that eye for detail and description has struck me before, when she describes the belongings in the house she went to work in. For someone who doesn't seem to spend a lot of time analyzing matters, she's a good eye for material things.
Was just a paragraph behind on the dead pigeon, but agree. 33 And how annoying is it that, after all that, Julieta nominates herself to be "hero", the one who releases him from the orphanage? True, it would be easier than if she had to buy two tickets for herself and her daughter, but I still get the sense that Julieta was happy to be the one who released him from that prison.
I thought her expression of emotion was interesting, considering that she didn't describe any emotion that she felt when she learned Quimet was dead. When she was told about Mateu, the response was "no, no, not that." And she loses it. Not sure, because Quimet brought her food and things as well as Mateu, but maybe it was that feeling of hope that she got--hope that someone would bring her something to eat, hope that there were men out there who were not like Quimet...He's definitely portrayed much differently than Quimet, and usually, birds of a feather...
34-the dolls are always weirdly fascinating, but this bear's effect is stronger. As Zanna pointed out, he's white...her fascination with white. The hands that come to grab her children, gently at first as with eggs, and soft, boneless hands. I was surprised when the dream changed.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 31-32.It strikes me that she can makes mental notes of how beautiful something is, as with the blue light. The scenes in the refugee camp for children, as well as description of Antoni u..."
35-the bubbles start out white, then began to turn red. And she wonders why no one else sees them, doubts herself, closes her eyes, but they're still there. Then they start turning red.
And then she says that no one sees the souls of those killed in the war in front of them, either. So I'm tying the bubbles to the souls of the war's dead.
Yes, the fact that she's still overweight in these times, and wearing the mantilla, and going to Church (and has money for candles) would indicate she's wealthier.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 31-32.It strikes me that she can makes mental notes of how beautiful something is, as with the blue light. The scenes in the refugee camp for children, as well as description of Antoni u..."
Wow, thanks. Haven't read the whole article, but darn, she lived, didn't she!? But....she married her uncle. Sorry, but-Ew.
But all I can think of at this part is that the shop owner who offered her work is nothing short of an angel. And I think he knew what she was about.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 37 and 38.The description of the carpet she opens chapter 37 is like a cinematic cut, stressing the enormous change in her life. The last chapters were set in the streets, in public loca..."
37
I see the same contrast here as when she was hired by the other couple--for someone who doesn't analyze much, there's an odd attention to detail here, but usually when it comes to other people's things. Maybe because all she ever had were those hot chocolate mugs.
First page--all of a sudden, the pockmarks on his face stand out less, "in the bright light"...now that he's her angel/savior, she'll judge him less by his looks.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 37 and 38.The description of the carpet she opens chapter 37 is like a cinematic cut, stressing the enormous change in her life. The last chapters were set in the streets, in public loca..."
Scales-I think I remember that they had commented that that landing was the halfway point, like a resting spot, or a pause between the outside world and going into whatever awaited her at home, good or bad.
Linda wrote: "Got to the part, late last night after the incoherent 1 am post (:))where she finds out he's dead. Kind of abrupt. "They told me that he and Cintet, as others, had died, and gave me what was left: the watch." It's supposed to serve as proof, but with the soap operas that we have today, you almost expect him to show up again, having traded the watch to someone for food or something he needed more"You're good:) She will actually be tormented by the thought that Quimet survived in ch. 42 (but don't know what happens next).
Linda wrote: "35-the bubbles start out white, then began to turn red. And she wonders why no one else sees them, doubts herself, closes her eyes, but they're still there. Then they start turning red.And then she says that no one sees the souls of those killed in the war in front of them, either. So I'm tying the bubbles to the souls of the war's dead...."
I got the meaning, but I thought the very form of the bubbles might be significant in a way I don't understand. The way her hand vision is a replay of what she did to the pigeons earlier in the book.
Linda wrote: "But all I can think of at this part is that the shop owner who offered her work is nothing short of an angel. And I think he knew what she was about."I think he was alarmed, but it is striking and a tad unrealistic, after everyone so carefully avoids her, not to get in trouble for helping the widow of a Republican soldier.
Bloodorange wrote: "Linda wrote: "But all I can think of at this part is that the shop owner who offered her work is nothing short of an angel. And I think he knew what she was about."I think he was alarmed, but it ..."
Ah, but now we know why, don't we? For some reason, I thought he was married. In the end, that took precedence over what people might think. Wanted to finish this last night, since it goes so fast, but didn't get to it.
Funny how quickly she got used to material things, wasn't it? Not just being fed and clothed, but having "things".
And to directing the relationship, after being such a doormat for so long. She told him she didn't want anything coming from the old house, not even clothes. And she got it. And went from being the maid to having a maid.
Yes, it would be horrible for her if Quimet came back now. And the children seem to have adapted, as well.
Let's finish it together or tomorrow, shall we?:) and the back to The Lacuna? Or do you quit Kingsolver?
Deal! I have to get to work on the conference paper, and hate having to read 16 things at a time. I'm stubborn, will try to dash off Kingsolver today, too. Yuk.
I have a tremendous headache - there has been a tremendous change in weather - and will finish my work for today and go to bed. I'll probably finish the book tomorrow during the commute and I'll have the time in the afternoon to post my thoughts. Double yuck.
I was distracted by a happy hour! We are, once again, in the same boat! (Which would be appropriate here, since it's been coming down steadily for the last hour or so!) good reading weather, as there's little else to do!
Chapters 42-43.Natalia becomes a strange 'pigeon lady'.
Why does she experience her anxiety attacks in the city only, not in the park? Does she fear meeting someone? It seems there are safe and unsafe zones.
She is tormented - not only by the possibility of Q's return, but the hostility she sees in her daughter and her maid.
She develops mind-numbing, sensory rituals (cold water, grain).
The idealized vision of the pigeons reminds me of the article I linked to- the author discusses the double nature of tge pigeon as a creature at once nasty and sublime.
Chapters 44-45.
The very different children.
I liked the image of the two men making moss balls. Antoni strikes me as a thoughtful, tactful man and stepfather.
And when Toni says he simply likes the store? It feels like a substitute for saying sth different.
I'm so not happy with Rita's decision. She reminds me of the worst type of female protagonist from Victorian fiction, the ruthless arriviste relying on her looks.
Chapter 46.Courtship No.2
What Natalia says about time - the inner time - at the beginning of this chapter is the obvious 'showcase' piece; Rodoreda has the tendency to scatter such fragments throughout the novel: obvious teacher meat. But still pretty.
I find Vincenc's pursuit of Rita disturbing; he reminds me of Quimet.
Toni's traumatized. That figures. I feel sorry for him. Do you happen to know whether military service was obligatory at the time? I should think it was.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapters 42-43.Natalia becomes a strange 'pigeon lady'.
Why does she experience her anxiety attacks in the city only, not in the park? Does she fear meeting someone? It seems there are safe an..."
Fnished it, but haven't been able to get into GR all day.
Yes, I was afraid that, just as she had found a way to feed them and help them survive, she was going to lose it.
I saw the son's accepting the work in the store as an expression of gratitude and content with what Antoni had given them. Antoni wanted something more for them, but he was saying he was happy with that. I, too, was disappointed that her daughter supposedly had the chance to go into the world beyond the neighbourhood, but appeared to be giving up on the idea before she'd ever really explored. When you think about it, these kids have never left the city. And she's resigned herself to spending her life there (with vacations with his family) without ever knowing anything else. I don't know whether to feel sad for her or to feel happy that she can be content there.
He's handsome and charismatic, like Quimet. But still seems to be waiting for her to come around, whereas Quimet simply told Natalia the way things would be. Still, somewhat creepy in that he assumes she will, in time, come around.
Notice anything weird about the way, when she freaks out, that she turns back to the nickname Quimet had given her, "Colometa"(can't remember how they translated it)....as much as she used to hate it, it's something she takes refuge in now.
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapter 46.Courtship No.2
What Natalia says about time - the inner time - at the beginning of this chapter is the obvious 'showcase' piece; Rodoreda has the tendency to scatter such fragments th..."
Still is. Two years, though if you're on a path of graduate study, it can be waived or forgiven. At least, it was up until the 90s. A friend I made in water aerobics in grad school was doing a Master's in Psych, her husband a post-doc in chemistry, and he'd gotten out of it. From WI, they went on, I believe, to Switzerland
Have you made it to the end? Read it in the middle of the night, insomnia attack, and it was kind of chilling...what a sense of forboding...
No, not yet. Had to calculate tentative end-of-year grades. Will finish today. Post away, if you have the chance - the next time I'm here I will know the ending.My notes on ch. 47.
I'm beginning to sympathize with Rita! I understand her words that marrying a neighbour is like marrying a cousin - she chooses (or rather is chosen by) the easiest way out (which isn't even really 'out').
Reading about Antoni the husband I can't help thinking "This is what Natalia's father should have done". He should have warned her and supported her. Not that it would change anything.
I'm chilled by the fact Natalia became some kind of fixture in the park, talking to other sad women, and feels she can't bear their grief. It feels that even now she is being emotionally exploited.
Bloodorange wrote: "No, not yet. Had to calculate tentative end-of-year grades. Will finish today. Post away, if you have the chance - the next time I'm here I will know the ending.My notes on ch. 47.
I'm beginning..."
Yes, misery loves company. Because the only other people who have time to be in the park in the middle of the day are senior citizens or other widows without children. Everyone else would be too busy. The sad part isn't that she's there, it's the lack of any sense of commiseration. It doesn't seem to help her or the others, and I got the sense that it almost made her feel haunted or crowded in another way, as though it were no longer an escape for her to go to the park.
Chapter 48.I actually wanted you to ask this question before - what do you make out of the crawfish/ langoustine painting? To my mind, Rita and Toni were fascinated by it because it was food. Food with eyes and legs. But asking, just in case.
The divorce joke.. ugh. I'm just now reading Wharton's The Custom of the Country, and maybe this makes me sensitive to all divorce-related jokes.
I think when Rita confides in Natalia about her marriage strategy - never make Vincenc aware of the fact that she loves him - she's trying to say she learned a lesson from her mother, who was so vulnerable.
Chapter 49.
Odd how suddenly the children grew up, odd how she never had the time to notice she is now a signora Natalia. I understand this is the 'time takes us by surprise, especially if we live to survive' theme, but I only bemae aware of it when Natalia did.
The whole book seems to be written in one voice, quite unchanging, perhaps with deeper reflections now, when she has the time to pause and think instead of just surviving her life with Quimet, the war, the post-war hunger. And she thinks of signora Enriqueta, who was perhaps trying to tell her something years before - about entangled lives. I wonder whether she was trying to instruct Natalia, or give her hope.
I'm not sure I get the ending. It is not dark, for me - until she returns home and finds Antoni, hungry for her presence, and turns from oblivious to scared of loss.
I'm currently surfing and looking for related articles online. This one looks good: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksda...
Edit: Ha! This is what I found!
Mercè Rodoreda: A Selected and Annotated Bibliography (1963-2001) by M. Isidra Mencos (via googlebooks):
http://s14.postimg.org/6cmstbur5/Nowy...
(You'll find a 'clipping' from the book if you follow the link.)
Bloodorange wrote: "Chapter 48.I actually wanted you to ask this question before - what do you make out of the crawfish/ langoustine painting? To my mind, Rita and Toni were fascinated by it because it was food. Foo..."
I had the same question about that lobster painting when I first read it at the beginning! Maybe because it was the first thing that she describes in detail (and again, notice how everything she describes in detail is someone else's material goods, never her own things). That happens even before the children are born, and way before they're hungry (though you find them in paella, which is ubiquitous).
I totally missed the divorce joke. Funny, you'd think I'd get that. But yes, she's a game-player. The relationship will be all about power for her, and not letting him know what he means to her means she will deny him that power over her that her father had over her mother.
The Custom of the Country put me off Wharton. Forever. We did a reading circle with several of her works, bc she lived in the neighbourhood/wrote about Newport. Omg. I followed it with the film version of "House of Mirth" (when my good friend/colleague's husband and I were both cheering for the laudanum, not her), and it will now take an extreme show of willpower to make me read through the one or two books I have left of those purchased.
I didn't want to spoil it for you, but can you imagine what she must have looked like, walking around the street with a knife!? And Quimet does return, but just in ghost form. No, when she comes to (and I thought of you, because I thought she was going to gain entry and touch those scales again). It was scary for Antoni; I don't think that he was shaking because it was so cold; I think he was very unsettled by all of thise.
That transition to señora was obvious, for me, but it was inexplicit: she had a maid, which meant free time. And since she's not a deep thinker, that gave her time to go and sit in the park. I knwo depression's a horrible thing, but I really wanted her to find something constructive to do!
Am going to go read your links here and then will write back.
Yes, I did notice the knife:))) but I was relieved she didn't go to look at the dolls. What disturbs me most about the ending is that she plans to go to the park again, as if she made no progress.House of Mirth was nearly traumatizing, but I like Wharton's sense of humour in The Age of Innocence.
Also,re: The knife walk: Ok, she likes the way she feels, but she probably IS disturbed, objectively speaking.
First link: sweet capture on the title. I thought, at one point, that going back to the name "Colometa" when she did...that she was a bit like the rabbit who's been alllowed out of the cage after years, and is afraid. Except that instead of a rabbit, she's one of the doves. Quimet's no longer there to tell her what to do/think/like, and she has to take action to keep them all alive. But it almost proves to be too much for her, and thankfully, Antoni comes into her life. But then, she's given something she hasn't had in forever: free time. And she doesn't know what to do with it.At several points, I thought that in the end, Enriqueta proved to be a better friend to her than Julieta ever had been. Maybe the children coming along put N and Julieta at different life stages--you know, one person has kids, one doesn't, so it's a little harder for them to meet at the same place, as they used to. But her advice and help (think of all of those hours babysitting!) had to have been more monumental than N describes.
I liked what this article says about the sensual nature, because that's what I saw in Natalia: her eye for detail, color, sound. With GGM, even though I don't think LITTOC is his best work, I do have to say that there's a paragraph at the beginning that epitomizes the Caribbean for me: the sound and smell of the laundry on the line, blowing in the breeze, the slap-slap of the maid's flip flops, etc.
Second link: yep! Back to that rabbit in the cage...And this brings me back 'round to a seminal article by Jean Franco on women in Latin America, and their politicization in the 60s and 70s: the move from the private space (home/kitchen) to public space (the streets). I suppose this, being Spain and a few years earlier, could be the beginnings of that though technically unrelated.
2015: The Year of Reading Women
Books mentioned in this topic
The Time in Between (other topics)Wide Sargasso Sea (other topics)
The Time of the Doves (other topics)
I can tell you're as swept away with it as I am;> Would you like to put it on hold until Monday, 1 June?