The Hearing Trumpet

 

The Hearing Trumpet / Leonora Carrington
Potter's Bar, UK: Naxos Audiobooks, 2017, c1974

This novel by Surrealist painter Leonora Carrington was certainly as surreal as her artwork! I didn't know much about it when I began listening to it in audio format, so it was quite an adventure. 

Marian Leatherby is an aged woman living with her son and his family somewhere in Mexico. She spends most of her days in her room or in the yard which she can access directly from her room. She is fairly satisfied, but her family is not. They feel that her mind is failing, that she needs to go into a home. Marian discovers the plan when her friend Carmela gives her an antique hearing trumpet as a gift; now she can actually hear people talking. 

This tool of illumination is a metaphor for Marian's beginning to understand more than just the speech of those around her. She is sent to a residence found by her daughter-in-law, an odd place in which all the individual homes are novelty shapes spread throughout a garden -- Marian is taken to a tower that's her new home. As she accustoms herself to her odd co-inhabitants and the cultish owners of the residence, she begins to undergo an illumination about the world and these new surroundings.

I found this book both fascinating and confusing. There is a portrait of a nun in their dining hall which Marian begins to fixate on, and part of the book jumps to a history of this very un-Christian nun and her witchy history. That history then ties into the situation Marian finds herself in when there is a disaster and the wider world basically ends. The women all form a coven, there is a giant ground-ship that arrives with a family of werewolves aboard, the Earth's poles change and her Mexican home becomes more like Lapland...this all happens very quickly and abruptly near the end. 

I couldn't stop listening to this strange and compelling book, but it still doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Lots of striking and memorable images, some humour, some satirical commentary. Certainly a much different take on a potential apocalyptic dystopia! It has feminist &anti-ageist themes that resonate, but it also includes moments of racism that jarred among the rest of the story. Not a perfect story, but intriguing in any case. 

Jazmina Barrera's Cross-Stitch

 

Cross Stitch / Jazmina Barrera
trans. from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney
San Francisco: Two Lines Press, 2023, c2021.
224 p.

When I first heard about this book during Women in Translation month, I knew it would be one I would have to read. It's a translation of a novel by a Mexican writer, which explores the role of female friendship, interspersed with the history of embroidery, to create a resonant feminist narrative. I really loved it. 

Our narrator, Mila, is now a young mother and a writer whose book on needlework was recently published. But as the story opens, she hears about the drowning death of her old friend Citlali, who along with another friend Dalia, made up a high school triangle of best girlfriends. 

Mila's narrative spools back in time, to go back to the beginnings of their friendship, to illuminate how the balance of power shifted between them, and how there were experiences that they kept private from one another even with their strong bonds. Like the author noted in an interview, there is always something that we won't know about another person, no matter how close. 

The friendship covers many tumultuous years of adolescence and young adulthood. They face sexual harrasment, abuses, everyday misogyny, as well as the trials and disillusionments of growing into adulthood. At one point, the three plan to meet in Europe (where Citlali is already living) to have a Big Trip together. But it doesn't go quite as planned - Citlali doesn't meet them in England, only making it to Paris later on; Dalia and Mila have different ways of travelling and sightseeing and have to negotiate daily routines. This felt so realistic, how you have to manage these close relationships and can be utterly annoyed with one another even while remaining the same depth of friend. 

And through their years of friendship, they all embroidered together. From samplers and unique projects in high school (like Citlali's ambitious goal to embroider an Arachniary of all known spider species) to more complex art based embroideries as they grow up - like Mila's monochrome black on black embroidery meant to emphasize texture - they've always stitched together, despite it being a bit of an outlier hobby. 

Barrera includes small sections interspersed with the fictional narrative which detail and reflect on the history of stitching, mainly as it applies to women's lives and whatever is going on in the story. There are mentions of embroidery around the world, and how it appeared both as a language and means of expression whether personally or politically. And what the role of art is, and the relation to stitching. These are facts drawn from embroidery history texts, which the author also shares in a bibliography. 

Eventually Mila and Dalia resolve their memories and come together to create a memorial for Citlali in their own neighbourhood, even including Citlali's mostly awful father. The final scene is memorable, and involves Citlali's stitching. 

I found this book thoughtful and stylistically engaging. The tone is clear and nostalgic in one sense, though never sentimental. The writing style is natural but also has a poetry to it, with imagery, resonance and the inclusion of other women's words; I appreciated the style of this novel. The way that fiction and fact are interwoven throughout the story was smoothly accomplished, and I felt that it added an extra layer of interest both in subject matter and in style. 

The characters are also fascinating. The three girls are different in many ways, but the development of their friendship felt so true to high school dynamics, as did the way they grew apart as they became adults. I think if you read for writing and characters, you will appreciate this book. And, if on top of that you are also a stitcher and appreciate the role of embroidery in women's history, I think you will love this book. 

Highly recommend. 

You can read more about it, including author interviews and a reader's guide, at the publisher's website if you are interested.

(first published at FollowingTheThread)

Mexican Gothic

Mexican Gothic / Silvia Moreno-Garcia

NY: Del Rey, c2020

301 p.

All of the early hype about this book intrigued me, and the idea of a new gothic also appealed -- I do love a good modern gothic. However, be warned that this book is a shade more horror than gothic. I'm not a horror fan, but this was 'horror-lite' so I survived ;) 

Noemi is a modern young woman in Mexico City in the 1950s. But she gets called away from her socialite life by a desperate letter from her cousin Catalina, who'd married the year before and moved to her husband's estate, High Place, far off in the countryside. 

When Noemi arrives to this dark and foreboding, English-style manor house built by Catalina's inlaws -- a family once massively rich due to silver mining but now fading -- she finds that things are suspiciously unsettled, from the rude and unfriendly family to the silent and secretive servants. But from this standard gothic beginning things get even weirder...we have bioluminescent fungus, visions and waking dreams, odd behaviour from everyone in the house, and maybe a ghost? Noemi isn't sure what's happening but it's definitely not what she expected to find. Only her strength of character and indomitable will can save her now. 

I appreciated the unusual setting, and the focus on a different society than usual in these kind of books. The description of Noemi made her not the usual kind of gothic heroine, either. She had far too much gumption and common sense to be a victim. Her cousin was definitely more of the naive and delicate gothic heroine type. Noemi and Catalina recalled Marian and Laura from The Woman in White in rheir respective roles, and like Marian, Noemi pulls them out of the fire. 

I didn't quite love it, as the horror and weirdness was a bit out of my taste range, but I did like a lot of it, and definitely appreciated this take on a classic genre. Worth reading, full of intriguing details and a fresh approach to gothic themes. 

Faces in the Crowd

Faces in the Crowd / Valeria Luiselli 
trans. from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney
Minneapolis, MN: Coffee House Press, 2014, c2011.
146 p.

I've always meant to read Valeria Luiselli, and saw this book in my library's audiobook collection, her first novel. So I picked it up to give it a try. I found it clever, and interesting in its metafictional approach -- the character in Mexico City is remembering her time as a translator in NY City, and the object of her research. She's writing a novel about him. Meanwhile, the character she is researching is narrating his own story, and they cross over strangely in the end, both becoming equally real and fictional, and existing in the same space. 

I listened to this one, and the two narrators were both very good, especially the woman reader. I think listening made this a bit of a different reading experience, as the different voices really made the two storylines distinct, and the merging at the end particularly startling. 

The setting ranges between Mexico City (mainly in the character's home), NY City, and Philadelphia. The characters shift around in time and place as they recall their pasts and situate themselves in "then" or "now". It gives an expansive feeling to a small book. 

There is an uncertainty about the solidity of existence in both characters, the male author feeling like he's wasting away, and being separated from his children. The female character doesn't leave her house and feels absorbed in her children. This vagueness about individual reality reflects the structure and theme of the book too, and it makes it a bit of an unsettling read. At the end I wasn't quite sure what I thought of it, or if I really understood what she was going for. 

The style is compelling, the characters are intriguing, and as mentioned I found the narrators excellent. I can't stop thinking about parts of this story. However, I don't know if I can say that I "liked" it or not -- it felt a bit prickly and as if it was keeping itself at a remove, somehow. I might have to reread it in a paper copy to really get a handle on it. For now, I'll say that it was an interesting experience, and a clever read that appeals to the intellect. 

Like Water for Chocolate

Like Water for Chocolate / Laura Esquivel
trans. from Spanish by Thomas Christensen and Carol Christensen
NY: Anchor, 1994, c1989
242 p.

I found a pristine copy of this book at my favourite used book shop recently (Attic Books in London, Ontario). I read this when it was first published, and remember it being a high demand, popular title at the library I was working in, even a few years after publication. But since it had somehow been so long -- 30 years! -- since I read it, I decided that this was the perfect time for a reread. 

And I really enjoyed it! I recalled most of the gist of the story, but had forgotten many of the details, and much of the charm of its style. So this time around it was like rediscovering something faintly familiar. I remember liking it way back when, and there was no change there; I enjoyed this read. 

Tita is the youngest of three girls, and as the youngest, a family tradition rules that she must never marry but remain home to care for her mother until she dies. Mama Elena is strict and cruel, and when Tita finds a sweetheart, Pedro, he is married off to her sister instead. Tita only expresses herself through her cooking, and when she's forced to make the wedding cake for her sister's wedding, she weeps into the icing, and everyone who eats it is overcome with illness and sorrow. 

The title comes from Tita's emotions as well:

"Tita was literally 'like water for chocolate' -- she was on the verge of boiling over. How irritable she was!"

This emotional resonance with her cooking appears a few more times in the book, and it's always told straight -- the magical realism is folded into the narrative seamlessly. 

The structure of the book is also tied to food; each chapter is a month, and each one starts with a recipe, and then someone cooking it. It's like a serial novel in a women's magazine in some ways, with food and romance and True Love as themes. And in other ways it feels like a fable. 

The idea that true love is all consuming is a bit questionable, at a distance. Should one really be willing to die for love? As an older reader, the ending isn't as satisfying as Tita's possible other choice might have been. But this isn't a realistic, serious tale, it's a romance, a fairy tale of sorts. 

I appreciated the structure, the earthiness of the story based in food and relationships, and the writing style. I also found the depiction of the characters well done. Nearly all the important characters are women, and they are all different. From Tita -- sweet and sad but very skilled at cooking -- to her sister Gertrudis, adventurous and tough and sexual; to Rosario, the eldest sister who weds Pedro and is a sour, suspicious woman; to Mama Elena, cruel and selfish; to the old cook who taught Tita everything and was more of a mother to her than Mama Elena ever was. The women represented are complex; good and evil, generous and selfish -- not all one type of being. 

While this is a bit of a light read, it was delightful to reread, and felt just as charming as it was 30 years ago. 

Umami

Umami / Laia Jufresa; translated from the Spanish by Sophie Hughes
Oneworld Publications, 2016, c2015.
276 p.

Mexico City: a mews, four families, five voices. Umami takes its name from the courtyard with five houses clustered around it. Alfonso, owner and professor, named it Umami when he bought it, being a food specialist and all. 

But the term also highlights the five voices telling the story - a mix of all the flavours to be found in life. 

We hear from three young characters: Ana, 12 yrs old, her friend Pina, and Ana's young sister Luz whose death colours the entire narrative. And there are additional chapters from Alfonso, who is also grieving for his recently deceased wife, and Marina, a young woman who's just moved in to one of the houses and has her own struggles. 

All of these stories wrap around one another; the propinquity of the homes and the characters mean they are all telling sides of the same story -- with additional personal details. 

It's a wonderful concept, and the story is overall absorbing and full of description of life, from gardens and dirt to music to colour and beyond. But some voices were stronger than others, for me. Ana's narration is clear and straightforward; her sister Luz's chapters are less successful, partly because reading a five year old's thoughts and 'cute' language mishaps isn't appealing to me at all. Also I felt terribly anxious all the time while reading Luz's story, afraid I was about to stumble upon the scene of her drowning. (spoiler: it's not described). 

My favourite voice was Alfonso's -- his experience, his overwhelming grief and how he managed it, his study of amaranth and food history -- all of this combined with his style to engage me in his story most strongly. But I am sure a favourite character will be different for everyone who reads this.

I thought it was a fresh, intriguing book, one which I haven't read before. But there are flaws. And unfortunately, the biggest flaw was the ending. The book is going along strongly, it's building up the tension and the detail, and then the end kind of peters out weakly, like the air going out of a balloon. 

I'm not sure why Jufresa made this choice, but as a reader I felt there was no climax, no resolution that a reader would hope for. I was disappointed in the ending and felt like there was something missing. I'm not 100% enthusiastic about this book because of that.

For the characters and the setting, and the writing (even if the British translation choices showed at times), this is worth reading. Plus the cover of this edition is just gorgeous. But, a little more story with an actual conclusion would make this a more satisfying read.