Monday, April 26, 2010

End of the Semester Reflection

Coming into ENG 378, I did not expect to be reading only testimonial literature. Because of the subject matter, this class felt more to me like a Spanish class taught in English than an English class. Since I'm both a Spanish major and an English major, I was okay with that.

I think this class is good for people because we don't learn enough about Latin America in general. True, we only learned about depressing things, but that's a start. Although I think it's important, I don't know how many English students would sign up for the course if it were advertised as testimonial literature, especially since it's not required. Although it wasn't the type of literature I had hoped to read, it didn't grow old, as did the texts I had to read in an English class I took last year that turn out to focus only on Holocaust literature.

Overall, I had a positive experience with this class. I liked it because it combined my interests -- English and Spanish. I don't know if it is a class for everyone, but people who are interested in both sides of the subject, as I am, should definitely try it.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Reaction to Death and the Maiden

Dorfman's play Death and the Maiden takes place in a South American country after the end of the dictatorship. Paulina is a survivor of torture, and she is clearly not over her turmoil, as can be seen in the way she reacts a a car coming to her house late at night. Because of this, it is hard to tell whether Paulina is correct in thinking that Roberto is guilty or if she is simply crazy and accusing an innocent man. In the film, however, Roberto definitely seems to act guilty. Even though he stays mostly the same lines as are in the play, the actor says them in a way that makes him seem guilty. The endings of the two versions are different as well -- in the play, the reader does not know if Roberto is alive or dead, but in the film he is definitely alive and gives a true confession of his guilt.

I liked the play better than the film version. I liked the ambiguity in the play about Roberto's guilt because that showed how difficult it would be to convict the people who performed the tortures because it would be so hard to prove their guilt. I also thought the film dragged the play out too much. While I thought the play could have been shortened, it did not bother me because I was able to read through it quickly. With the film, however, I was a captive audience, unable to speed up the proceedings.

Monday, April 19, 2010

An Absence of Shadows

My group looked at the word usage in An Absence of Shadows and compared it to the usage in A Single, Numberless Death.

The first thing I did was looked for words that are used frequently throughout each text. The most common words I found had to do with violence and torture: wires, explode, shock, electric, burning, death. I also found that body parts were frequently mentioned: teeth, fingertips, nipples, mouth, hair, bones, nails. This makes sense considering the subject matter of the texts.

In An Absence of Shadows, I noticed a recurring theme of the idea of having ownership over the dead. On page 107, it states, "A woman waits for her dead" and the idea shows up again on page 157: "Maria del Carmen asks me if I know all my dead." I am not sure if this refers to the dead people that they actually knew, or if there is another, poetic meaning, but I thought the terminology was interesting either way. I don't usually think of people as having dead.

Another similarity between the two texts is the idea of a loss of individuality. On page 151, the narrator says, "my name is Carmen, or Maria". To me, this implies that the narrator is one woman out of many nameless women, and that she could be any of them because each of them has the same story, and can easily testify for one another. It reminded me of the way that Nora in A Single, Numberless Death ceased to be an individual and became only a number. The experience was so horrific that all of their stories became one large story in which they ceased to be people and became only numbers.

Another similarity I noticed was the mention of colors. I am not sure what sort of deeper meaning the colors hold, if any, but I thought it was interesting that both authors had colors on their minds when writing about this topic.

I also compared the English translations of the poems to the original Spanish versions. Overall, I thought the translations were pretty well done. In the times where the translation differed, the English version tended to have more words, attempting to capture the same sense that the Spanish version gave with less words. One example that stood out to me is on page 145. The Spanish version says simply, "al dentista/a las escuelitas privadas", which has been translated to, "made regular trips to the dentist/attended very nice private schools". I found it somewhat amusing that English needed so many more words in order to explain and evoke the same type of emotion that is accomplished by the shorter Spanish phrases.

Assignment 2 -- Testimonial Lit and Strevilevich

Testimonial work is, obviously, work that provides a testimony. The testimony can be the firsthand account of a witness, or it can be a more fictionalized story that nonetheless testifies to the history of an actual event. The form of a testimonial work is unlimited – it can be prose, poetry, or any sort of compilation that the author sees fit to use. In this it is easy to classify Nora Strejilevich’s A Single, Numberless Death as an example of testimonial literature.
Strejilevich uses multiple literary forms in her text. Perhaps the most obvious reason her book is an example of testimonial literature is because she was one of those who were kidnapped and tortured during Argentina’s Dirty War, which is the subject of her text. However, Strejilevich’s work is not about only her own experience – it encompasses the experiences of others and so can be thought of to stand for all of those who were victimized by the Dirty War. Strejilevich includes others’ stories in a manner that makes it clear that they are not all her own, unlike the manner in which Rigoberta Menchú, in her story, I, Rigoberta Menchú, tells the story of all victimized Guatemalans as though it were her own personal history. Menchú’s story stirred controversy because the book is written as though she personally experienced all of the events it describes, but Strejilevich’s text is not all written in the same, seemingly autobiographical, way. While there are portions that are clearly autobiographical and so lend the author an authoritative tone on the matter, there are also parts that are obviously about someone else. Because of this, A Single, Numberless Death is an example of testimonial literature in that it provides a witness account of the event and also because it contains other people’s viewpoints, which may or may not be actual accounts but nonetheless all contribute to a testimony of the Dirty War.
Nora Strejilevich uses various forms of writing in her text, as is permitted with testimonial literature. With prose being the primary component of the text, Strejilevich also incorporates poetry, letters, and excerpts from articles and books. These contribute both to the sense of authority – the author clearly knew her material – and to the sense of surrealness that covers anything as horrible and widespread as the Dirty War. The various materials, along with the switches between stories and time, keep the reader suspended in a sort of horrified trance, unable to stop reading for curiosity of what might come next. Strejilevich uses the different materials much like the way Elena Poniatowska uses various mediums in her book, Massacre in Mexico. Poniatowska, like Strejilevich, uses multiple story lines, articles, and other forms of testimony in order to create a sense of the chaos that was a part of the massacre. Both authors combine various forms of testimony in order to create one larger testimony that stands for everything included within the text.
There is no doubt that Nora Strejilevich’s A Single, Numberless Death is an example of testimonial literature, as it provides a testimony of the events of the Dirty War, both from her own experience and those of others’. In order to shape the text, Strejilevich made use of various forms of literature, including prose, poetry, and excerpts from other texts. Altogether, they combine to create an exemplary example of testimonial literature.


1. If what happened to Nora happened to me, I don’t think I would be able to feel secure in the U.S. ever again. I am a person who holds grudges for a very long time, and I think that experiencing the things that Nora went through would cause most people to hold a grudge of epic proportions. I would miss my family and friends very much, but I would have to go live in Canada or somewhere else I felt was far enough from the U.S. to be disconnected from the government and far enough so that they could not keep up with what I was doing. I think that I would be too bitter and angry to lead a normal life in the U.S., and that I would be incredibly cynical about everything to do with the government or the military. I think I would still be bitter and angry living in exile, but that I would be able contain that angry enough to be able to go about with my daily life.

2. I think that we as college students are able to relate more closely with this story than other people might be able to because the people who were targeted in the Dirty War were mostly people around our age. It is similar to the way in which we are able to relate to the victims in Massacre in Mexico. The people who were attacked were mainly college students, and this adds a level of reality to the story for me because it is easy to imagine myself or the people I know as the victims. The disappeared were people who thought and acted similarly to us, and if we had lived in Argentina at that time, it could have very easily been us who were kidnapped, tortured, and killed. Because of the similarities between the victims and the college students of our generation, this story really hits hard and is extremely relatable.

The Dirty War

First of all, I find it interesting that I have only heard about the Dirty War in a Spanish class (very briefly though, the professor got off topic and told us a little about it) and an English class that is also cross-listed with Spanish. This annoys me because it was a huge deal that still affects people today, and we don't learn anything about it in school. It's not even a matter of people in our country not caring about other places, because we aren't even given the chance to care, because no one tells us anything. On a somewhat similar note, I find our media to be infuriating because they just repeat the same things at us all day, every day, while there are other important stories, both good and bad, that they totally neglect to share. It ticks me off.

But back on topic...the part of the Dirty War that is going on right now, families finding their missing children, is what sticks out to me. I can't imagine how I would feel if I found out that the people who raised me and who I had loved turned out to not be my parents, or even worse, to have been somehow involved in the deaths of my actual parents. That has to really mess with those people's minds, and I am sorry for them. In their place, I don't know what I would do. I don't know if I would be able to leave my parents and become part of a new family. It's sad that the war has been passed down to that generation of people, and that they are still being affected by what their parents had to go through.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

"Other"

When discussing literature that deals with people not from the United States, the word "other" frequently comes up. "Other" is the idea that someone is somehow different, or doesn't quite fit in the way society would like. In the U.S., "other" is often applied to immigrants, who might stand out for physical, cultural, or religious reasons. Something that we sometimes forget is that within these "other" groups are even smaller groups of "others" that are not even accepted by the group our society places them in. I was reminded of this during Larry LaFountain's presentation, Queer Ricans. He discussed his work in the field of studying the diaspora of LGBT Puerto Ricans, many of whom traveled to the mainland United States as a result of intolerance in Puerto Rico. I found this interesting because we tend to lump all immigrants under one category and do not look closely into why people choose to come here. I wish Mr. LaFountain would have spoken more directly about his work instead of just giving brief bios of other writers, but he did cause me to think about a subject that I had not previously thought about. Within every "other" there is another "other" that is just as discriminated against as the group they are in.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Reaction to A Single Numberless Death

The main thing that this book reminded me of was the various Holocaust literature I read for a class last year. Apart from similar subject matter -- torture, arrest scenes, memories of before the war -- the tone is the same. It's very straightforward and holds nothing back -- I get the feeling that the author kind of wanted to shock the reader with her complete openness and the way she intertwines the horrifying scenes from the dirty war with memories of the past.

Content-wise, there's not a ton in this book simply because it's a lot of the same sort of story being told over and over. That is not to say that it is an empty book, because it is quite interesting, just that I don't have a lot to say about it because there isn't a ton of information in the text. That being said, although the book is very depressing I do enjoy it.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Reaction to Massacre in Mexico

I thought Massacre in Mexico was interesting primarily because it told a story that I had previously heard nothing about. I think that's rather sad, because the fact that the event took place right before the Olympics should have made it huge international news, and the victims should still be remembered with the Olympics today. However, it was kept secret precisely because of the Olympic games, and seems to have flown under the international radar ever since.

My last post was about the Olympics, too, and my feelings about this book match up with my feelings about human rights and the Olympics in general. I think that the students were probably trying to use the extra publicity of the journalists in town for the Olympics to their advantage, and the Mexican government was not going to allow the students to embarrass them in front of the entire world. Unfortunately, this resulted in the murder and imprisonment of many people, but it is easy to see why the government overreacted. In a way, the students provoked the government by making a fuss in front of the international visitors. While it is true that they should be allowed to state their opinions whenever they want, to whomever they want, they really could have done things in a more diplomatic way. I don't want to sound as though I am excusing the massacre or human rights violations in general, but I do feel as though it was a bad move on the students' part to demonstrate on the eve of such an internationally viewed spectacle as the Olympics. In addition, I feel as though the manner in which the government fought showed how panicked they were -- they were disorganized and ended up shooting at each other as much as at the students. I think that shows that they were desperate to keep the students from acting up in front of the international community.

Writing-wise, I thought the book gives a good sense of the chaotic nature of the event. The various fragments provide quick glimpses into peoples' experiences, and while it was frustrating to try to keep all of the names and relationships straight, that also added to the feeling of chaos and confusion that must have been felt at the time. The only issue I had with the form was that it became very repetitive, and I felt as though I were reading the same thing over and over.

Overall, I think this is a good read simply because it tells a story that is too infrequently told, both in the sense of the actual event and in that it shows the darker side of the Olympics, which is too often covered up.

Human Rights and the Olympics

I love the Olympics. I love the over dramatized footage of athletes' lives, cheering for countries that I forget exist most of the time, and watching athletes jump up in down for coming in third. However, my love of this international spectacle is tainted by the knowledge that with every Olympics comes a slew of human rights violations.

In this article, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/02/27/AR2010022703315.html , the author blames the IOC for not doing enough to prevent and/or rectify the human rights violations, pointing out that they managed to rebuke the Canadian women's hockey team for drinking champagne on the ice while not acting against rights violations. This article http://www.hrw.org/en/news/2010/02/12/olympics-dont-skate-over-rights-violations also urges the need for more focus on human rights reform. I find it interesting that both authors mention China and Russia as human rights violators but do not say much about Canada, even though both articles were written recently. It makes me wonder if Canada is doing well in the issue of human rights or if problems are being covered up until later.

Naturally, the question arises of whether these human rights violations are typical in these countries, or if they are something caused by the Olympics. This article, written about the problems with the Olympics in Beijing, suggests the latter: http://www.euractiv.com/en/sports/olympics-triggering-human-rights-violations-china/article-171524 If that is the case, can the IOC really do anything about it? If people see the Olympics as an opportunity to protest their cause before an international audience, is it really the fault of the host nation for wanting to repress the demonstrations and therefore save face before the world? It's no wonder that countries do not allow journalists to report things such as unrest in their countries in a time when everyone in the international community is watching. The Olympics are supposed to breed understanding and camaraderie, but in reality they create a huge stage for people to show off their message to the world. Of course people want to use that opportunity to complain, and of course their countries don't want them to. It's a cycle that can't really be stopped as long as the Olympics remain as they are. I love the Olympics, but I don't see how the cycle can be broken.

Of course, if the people had nothing to complain about there wouldn't be a problem, but we do not live in a perfect world. Someone will always be unhappy, and want to tell people about it. I just wonder what has been going on in Canada during these Olympic games, and if we will hear anything about it.

Reaction Questions

One of the aspects of the introduction of I, Rigoberta Menchú that most interested me was the fact that Elisabeth Burgos gives herself the majority of the credit for the creation of the book. It is true that she thanks Rigoberta at the end of the introduction and that she explains how Rigoberta told her story, even recording some answers that Burgos did not interview her on, but overall the part of the introduction that deals with the book itself seems to be focused more on Burgos and what she did to put the book together. Burgos certainly had to put in a lot of work to transcribe the recordings and put them in book form, but it irked me that she placed so much emphasis on her part of the creation, when in my mind Rigoberta’s was the much more difficult and valuable contribution. It is interesting, then, that Burgos chose to leave her questions out of the actual text. Perhaps she felt awkward protruding that much into someone else’s story, and had to content herself with asserting in the introduction that she was originally a part of the manuscript, thus ensuring that the reader would know that the book was not Menchú’s work alone, and that Burgos deserved credit too. I would be interested in knowing how Rigoberta Menchú feels about the authorship of the book – if she feels like it is an autobiography, or if she sees it as a book about her life written by Burgos.

Somewhat similarly, I was curious as about the relationship between Menchú and Burgos. Burgos implies that the two became close friends during the week, partly due to the fact that they were both brought up on the fare of tortillas and black beans. I find her description of Rigoberta, however, to be rather off-putting. Burgos describes Menchú in a manner that sounds almost degrading, emphasizing her childlike features and bringing attention to her clothes, which Burgos does not seem to deem adequate for the Parisian weather. It is almost as though Burgos is trying to create a specific (and somewhat stereotypical) image of an indigenous woman – innocent, pure, and poorly clothed while somehow enduring the cold. While all of these descriptions might in all actuality apply to Rigoberta Menchú, Burgos piled all of them together in one place in the introduction, causing the image to feel forced and causing me, as a reader, to feel as though Burgos were trying to manipulate my way of thinking about Menchú.

It must be noted that this book was not written in Guatemala, where the events in it take place, or even in Venezuela, where Burgos grew up, but rather in Paris. It is possible that this caused the interview to be distant from the situation in Guatemala, but judging on the wealth of information contained in the book, I think that if the location had an effect it was in the opposite manner. It is plausible that being away from Guatemala gave Menchú a sense of security that allowed her to talk about matters that it would not have been safe to discuss in Guatemala. Burgos has another point on this matter: “Similarly, if we had been in her home in El Quiché, her descriptions of the landscape would not have been so realistic” (xix). Surrounded by a French city instead of her familiar home, Menchú would have been unable to take anything for granted – she would have had to assume that Burgos did not have prior knowledge of anything she was talking about, and so would most likely have gone into greater detail than she would have had the Guatemalan scenery been all around them.

Burgos states that the idea for the book came from a Canadian woman who was sympathetic to the indigenous people. She says that Menchú’s motivation for doing the interview was to tell not only about the sufferings of her people, but also to make the world more aware of her culture. As for Burgos’ motivations, they can be inferred by the additional background information given in the introduction. Burgos describes the situation in not only Guatemala, but Latin America as a whole, reminding the reader that oppression does not come only from outside sources but also from within a country. Much like the ideas expressed in The Post-Colonial Studies Reader, that colonial practices do not stop with independence and that internal division is a sign of continuing colonialism, Burgos states, “there is an internal colonialism which works to the detriment of the indigenous population” (xii). With such a strong statement it can be assumed that Burgos’ motivation in working on the project comes from a dislike of the internal practices of colonialism in Latin America. Perhaps in creating the book she hoped to bring these practices to light, especially to a non-Latin American audience, as she wrote it in Europe.

Overall, the introduction to I, Rigoberta Menchú is interesting to read because it is Burgos’ thoughts, not Menchú’s, that are allowed to be heard. It is possible, therefore, to look into Burgos’ view of Menchú, the situation in Guatemala and all of Latin America, and to guess as to what her own motivations were for embarking on such a project.



4. If Menchú becomes president, I think she will have a hard time being impartial in regards to not favoring the Maya. Judging by the way she comes across in the book, she has come to be more accepting of the ladinos but still dislikes the upper class. If she is president, she will have to do things that help the rich as well as the poor, and I am not sure if she will be willing to do that, or even think of the rich as having needs and rights of their own. Hopefully she will at least work for rights for the ladinos as well, but personally I think she will be focused almost entirely on the Maya.


I chose to respond to the question regarding Menchu's possible future presidency because I feel as though that is the next step for her, at least in terms of what she will try to accomplish. After learning more about the controversy surrounding Rigoberta and her book, I feel even more strongly that she would focus more on her own concerns and not so much on those of the Guatemalan population as a whole. I do not think she would intentionally neglect anyone, but I could see her manipulating her power in order to benefit those she considers to be worthier of her help.



Sunday, January 31, 2010

Reaction to I, Rigoberta Menchú

I, Rigoberta Menchu is not actually by Rigoberta Menchú, but rather a book compiled out of interviews with Elisabeth Burgos. I found that very interesting, partly because I wouldn't have known that if I hadn't read the introduction to the book, since Burgos removed all aspects of an interview from the text. Knowing that the book was originally a much longer interview transcript, I wondered what sort of impact Burgos' choices had on the content. Obviously she had to take things out in order to create a reasonably sized book, so how did she decide what was less important or not as interesting? Based on the introduction, I am under the impression that Burgos did not consult Menchú on what she thought most important, so I am curious as to what Menchú thinks of the finished product. I also found it odd that there are so many things repeated throughout the book, since Burgos surely had enough material to avoid repetition had she wanted to.

All in all, I enjoyed reading this book. I had practically no prior knowledge of Guatemala, so it was nice to learn about a country that is usually glossed over in classes. I do wish that I had read this earlier in my life, though, because I think it provides insight into a very important situation, and it bothers me that we are so poorly educated about things like this around the world. I think that as a society we don't like to think about the bad things around us, because we don't want to feel obligated to do something about it. We also like to see ourselves as heroes, and according the film we watched in class, the U.S. is guilty of worsening the situation in Guatemala, so it makes sense that this is something we wouldn't be taught about in schools.

Menchú makes a point of saying that keeping secrets is very important to her community, but she goes on to share what seems like very private information, detailing their daily lives and many of their rituals and military tactics. It made me wonder just what exactly she was still keeping a secret, and why she thought some secrets were more worth keeping than others. I am also curious about how other members of her community reacted to the book, since she tells so much about their lives.

Although I frequently wondered at what was being left out, both by Burgos and by Menchú, the information and experiences that were included in the text did a good job of presenting the situation and introducing the reader to a different way of life, and I would definitely recommend this book.