Women in the Island Literature

Courtesy of hsrabdreams.blogspot.com

            The role of women in Latino culture has been a key aspect of each of the novels covered in this class.  In this genre of literature, women are portrayed as being independent, although still face struggles in attempting to overcome the cultural effects of machismo in Latino culture.  Bodega Dreams and Dreaming in Cuban are no exception to this representation, as both of these novels contain strong women who are attempting to follow their “dreams.”  However, the dreams in each novel vary because of the cultural and masculine influences that each woman faces. 

            Bodega Dreams takes place in Spanish Harlem of New York City.  Even though many of the people living in this area have ancestors from Puerto Rico, most of them are second or third generation citizens.  Spanish Harlem, then, is in the process of developing a unique culture, combining both Puerto Rican and American qualities.  Blanca, the main female character in this book, is attempting to get out of the poverty of Spanish Harlem by attaining a college education.  Chino, her husband, also holds this same goal, but doesn’t seem to be as committed to it, especially when he becomes more closely involved with his ‘pana’ Sapo and Willie Bodega.  Chino, however, connects with Sapo and Bodega so that he can have the means to get his family out of poverty, and even attains a new apartment without telling Blanca (60).  This makes Blanca mad as she wants to be in on family decisions.  She doesn’t believe in the old machismo ways of the past (130).  In Blanca’s case, then, following and attaining her dreams means not only completing her education but having the opportunity to play an integral role in supporting her family.

Courtesy of cristinagarcia.com

            Dreaming in Cuban takes place in both Cuba and the New York City, varying slightly from Bodega Dreams.  The women in this book play the main role in telling the story, as a large majority of all the narrators are women from different generations of the del Piño family.  Another difference from Bodega Dreams is that some of the female characters have, in effect, accomplished their life dreams of success.  Celia has participated in the Cuban revolution, playing an important part as the People’s judge (111).  Lourdes, her daughter, has moved to the United States in order to open her own bakery business, because she is not able to in Cuba due to the Communist government (17).  The other main character, Pilar, is attempting to figure out what her dream is so she can accomplish it, while Felicia, the final female character, cannot fully realize her dream because of her mental depression.  However, more than these physical dreams, the del Piño family dreams are linked to the politics and machismo of Cuban culture. 

               The men in the novel influence the political stances of the females, thus inserting their masculine opinion into the novel.  Celia’s husband, Jorge, worked closely with a company in the United States and left her to live with his disagreeable mother and sister in Cuba.  After this experience, Celia gets depression, and disowns Lourdes, her first child.  Because of this relationship with Jorge, then, it makes sense that Celia doesn’t like the United States!  On the other hand, Lourdes forms a close relationship with her father from youth, as she thinks her mother doesn’t love her.  Lourdes, too, experiences trauma in Cuba as she is raped by revolutionary soldiers (71).  Lourdes’ allegiance to the United States also fits with these past experiences. 

            All in all, women do play important roles in both Bodega Dreams and Dreaming in Cuban, but are influenced by the different cultural, masculine influences the have in their lives.  So even though the women in both Bodega Dreams and Dreaming in Cuban are portrayed as being independent, they still must deal with the issues of machismo present in many Latin American countries, a theme, which has pervaded the literature covered in this course.    

Political Influence

            In reading the book Dreaming in Cuban, it’s remarkable to see how politics, especially relations with the United States, play such a big role in the plot of the book and the lives of the different characters. In my view, politics are something that a person doesn’t have much control over.  I’m not saying that a person shouldn’t suggest how they believe a country should be run, but have come to realize, through taking various classes and learning about political systems, that the people in charge of politics are the ones who have grown up having the power and have certain connections with those currently in charge.  We citizens of the United States may think our decisions to elect politicians really influence who’s going to be in charge, but in reality, do we have much choice to choose who we want?  I did not think that George W. Bush was the best person to be elected as the last president, and yet I had to learn to live events I didn’t necessarily have control over.  Dreaming in Cuban is a novel that explores these questions of control and power, especially in looking at how different characters support either the U.S. or Cuban governments.

Cuban Sugar Cane Field (Courtesy of Reuters.com)

            In the novel, Celia is a devout supporter of the Revolution in Cuba and is a big fan of El Líder, Fidel Castro.  Her ardor leads her to become greatly involved in the revolution as she cuts field sugarcane for Cuba and serves as the judge for the People’s Court, where she is elected by the people (pages 111-112).  Not only is Celia engaged with doing her duty as a member of the Revolution, she also has a certain affinity for El Líder.  She is drawn by his power, and many times thinks of him as a kind of lover (110).  For Celia, then, power is important as she likes being involved specifically in the role of her country.

            Lourdes, in contrast to Celia, dislikes everything about the Revolution.  In coming to the United States, she has embraced the new heritage she has found, including the possibility of using an “adopted language” and losing all part of Cuba (page 73).  She likes having her own business and relishes the chance to continue expanding, as she opens another Yankee Doodle Bakery (page 138).  Lourdes is also a little obsessed with other “American” traditions, such as barbecuing everything and participating in various holiday customs like the annual Thanksgiving DayParade (page 137).  Lourdes, then, is drawn in with the chance she has to control her own life.

            Despite the power both Celia and Lourdes plug into, though, their political dreams and preferences interfere with the happiness of the extended family.  Celia has a tough time coming to terms with her husband Jorge’s death, and suffers various mental breakdowns, such as when Lourdes and Pilar find her sitting motionless on her porch upon their arrival in Cuba (page 217).  Lourdes, too, never seems to be happy with her family since coming to the United States, as Pilar is a rebellious child and Rufino spends his time working on various inventions (page 20).  In this way, then, the unhappy circumstances that both of these women find themselves in relate to something they don’t really have control over, or the different political establishments in both nations and the long-range effects they have on various citizens.    

Identity Search

            The book Bodega Dreams by Ernesto Quiñonez takes place in El Barrio, the section of New York City where many Puerto Ricans live.  Even though Chino, the main character, has experiences much different from those in the Mexican texts we’ve read in this class so far, it’s interesting to see how the search for self-identity is a theme that is carried on through most of our readings.  In the Mexican literature, defining self had much to do with finding a place in white American society while also learning to retain Mexican heritage and values.  This is also a problem Chino faces in Bodega Dreams, although he has to cross different borders than the physical and familial ones addressed by Bless Me, Ultima, The Guardians, and The Devil’s Highway.  Chino, instead, must learn how to deal with keeping up appearances with his old ‘pana’ Sapo and his boss Willie Bodega, along with his pregnant wife, Blanca.  Even though Chino becomes involved with Bodega in order to help Blanca and his family, it ends up backfiring on him after Blanca can’t stand being left in the dark whenever Chino makes a family decision.  Chino, then, ends up having identity conflict between how he wants to appear to his friends and his wife. 

Aurora Levins Morales

            A similar identity search can be seen in Aurora Levins Morales, one of the Puerto Rican poets whose poem “Child of the Americas” we read for class.  In this poem, she reveals her search for sense of self as both a Puerto Rican and an American, even though she isn’t fully part of either culture. In the same way, she not only looks at herself as a writer, but also sees herself as an “activist, a healer, a revolutionary.”  Despite having these dreams, she has a chronic disability that keeps her from traveling extensively.  Because of this, she cannot pursue all of these self-ideals, but instead has to learn to live with the recurring theme of a split identity.  

My Mirror's Reflection

              I stare intently at myself in the mirror.  Dark brown eyes stare back at me.  The eyes of both my mother and father, framed by a mass of wavy, shoulder-length, chestnut hair.  My nose and lips are petite, and my right ear is slightly larger than my left.  My skin is pale, made that way by the dim, winter sun.  In the summer, it will regain its tan hue.  My reflection is a mixture of many different traits that define me: White-German Mennonite, Farm Girl, and Midwesterner.  All of these traits mixed together make me North American.

My family at Zion National Park, Utah

              I continue to stare, fascinated, into the mirror.  I see my cluttered desk, covered with textbooks, pens, and the weekly letter sent to my entire family by my Grandma Kempf.  Looking more closely, I see the pictures of my friends and family, tacked up on the bulletin board behind my binders.  There is one of my family standing in front of a waterfall in Zion National Park, Utah, with our exchange student from Germany, Milena.  Another shows the backyard of my childhood, complete with a homemade swing set and a jumbo trampoline with a mini-basketball hoop attached to the protective net surrounding the black mat.  A final picture portrays my roommate and I standing in front of a cow at the Kansas State Fair.  With it comes a poignant reminder of my past two years on the plains at Hesston College; two years where time did not stand still, but raced ahead, mocking me to try and catch it.  Two years that taught me to embrace my past, while also diving head-first into an uncertain and laborious future.

Kansas State Fair

            My mirror reflects things treasured by the unique American in me.  It reveals rich Mennonite traditions, sweltering summers on the farm, and the excitement caused by the perfect Husker volleyball set-up that wins the game for the national championship.  I see my mom and dad helping out in the confined kitchen at my country church, Salem Mennonite.  The tables are set up in the narrow basement along one wall, and as I finish putting chairs around each one, the plethora of crock pot dishes, hidden in the nearest classroom, begin to appear on the main table.  I see the haze of a summer morning disappear as the sun breaks the plane of the sky, revealing the endless blue above a fluttering corn field, drenched in the thick dew of the night.  With the field comes the smell of unspoiled dirt, beginning to thicken to mud as the life-giving water flows down each row from the dusty aluminum pipes.  My mirror catches a glimpse of me watching a Husker volleyball game on TV as a fifth grader, enthralled by the perfect execution of the most difficult plays.  Five years later, I am in the Qwest Center arena in Omaha, Nebraska, caught up in the exhilaration of the record breaking crowd of 17,000 fans as the Huskers win the final point and are crowned NCAA National Champions. 

                 I see downtown Shickley, bustling at 12:00 noon on a Saturday.  Workers are coming into town for their lunch breaks, their pick-ups parking in front of either the green awning of Dawg’s Café or the black and white striped of Cubbie’s Market.  Looking further, I see the local swimming pool teeming with kids, as the one hundred degree temperatures soar.  I see my grandpa driving his red pick-up with the white stripe out to the farm office to pay bills.  Oh, I can see so many treasured things!

            Then, as I look deeper into the mirror, geographical boundaries melt away.  Times and places blend.  I incredulously see the rhythmic flow of both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans for the first time through the eyes of my former self, amazed by their magnificence.  My mind runs back through various family vacations of exploring North American wonders: Bryce Canyon, Yellowstone National Park, the sequoias, Mount Rushmore, Pike’s Peak, the Cascades, the San Antonio Riverwalk , Washington D.C.  I see my North American legacy showing itself in all different shapes and forms, ranging from the diversity of the subways in New York City to the unique sloping of endless sandhills in sparsely populated western Nebraska.

My view of the Limmat in Zurich

            I see the legacy of my Mennonite Heritage: the monument to Menno Simons hidden in the tiny village of Witmarsum, Holland; the plaque remembering the execution of Felix Manz in the Limmat River of Zurich, Switzerland; the pictures of my grandpa’s twenty-year-old self building a dam in South Dakota for civilian public service during World War 2. 

            I look even further.  I see the influences of John Howard Yoder and his non-violent views in The Politics of Jesus.  I see the depiction of immigrants settling eastern Nebraska in My Antonia, written by Nebraska native Willa Cather.  I see the impact that music has had on my life, ranging from the a cappella hymns of my childhood to the endless country played on many Midwestern radio stations.  I hear the local stories of my past.  I hear about my mom as a child, scrubbing out turkey barns with her bare hands.  I hear about my grandpa walking two miles through fields on his way to school every morning.  I listen to the excitement of my older cousins reliving the time they backed Sylvia, the 1980 Chevy, propane-powered pick-up out of the irrigation lane at forty miles per hour. 

            I look into the mirror and capture more than my reflection.  I see that I am more than pale skin, brown hair, and brown eyes.  The mirror shows me a beautiful, rich, and unique heritage that is a part of me, my essence.  In fact, I see that I am, in reality, a reflection of this heritage.  Wherever I go, I can do so with pride, knowing what I am and where I have come from.  I carry the stories of my past and they reflect and intermingle with my aspirations for the future.  Indeed, I know that the changing self reflected in the mirror, will always proudly reflect the essence of myself.