Although a complex novel, I absolutely loved Pedro Páramo. Had this been a few years ago, I may not have said that since I had never been exposed to Magical Realism. However, after having read García Marquez’ “Cien años de soledad”, Cortázar’s “La noche boca arriba” and Fuentes’ “Chac-mool,” I felt much more comfortable with the novel. (It’s crazy how education can do that!) Well, maybe comfortable is not the right word, as I still had to review many passages. I believe the most confusing aspect was the chronology. I mean I am still wondering if the priest was dead and came back, or if it was a flashback. I am also not sure if some of the characters were spirits, or humans. Now that I think about it, do I have a better grasp on magical realism? Aw man.
Nostalgia. The past. Heritage. History. Conscience. All of these ideas crossed my mind repeatedly while reading this book. I imagined a young man (I assume he was young) tracing the path of his ancestors. Upon returning to his past, he was enveloped with an abundance of varying emotion. Was it his conscience? Were there truly spirits? Or perhaps, every time he took a nap or went to sleep, his mind escaped and he dreamt of what may have happened.
I suppose I can relate. Maybe this is weird but I think of the poem “Tintern Abbey.” When I am in front of a ruin, when I am standing in the midst of a historical monument, when I walk through an Indian burial ground, when I open an old book passed down to me by my family, or even when I moved into an older house, I am taken back to an earlier time. I imagine scenarios, and try to immerse myself into what “was”. It helps me to understand history better by putting myself right in it, or at least trying to. Afterall, every place has a story. At times I can almost hear the murmurs of its people… much like Juan. (I am not psycho, I swear)
Revisiting the past is always an emotional, almost spiritual experience for me. It is surreal. History is a part of us, whether we acknowledge it or not, whether we accept it or not, or whether we understand it or not.
Silence can speak millions and there is no better story than one told by a vine-devoured stone wall. Very cool book.
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3 comments:
It is interesting that you refer to reliving historical memory as a spiritual experience. As a religious person, especially catholic, I assume this idea that the past is connected to and perhaps even contained in the present has been engrained in you. I was not raised catholic, but rather protestant and did not feel a deep spiritual connection to the past until my wife and I entered the Orthodox Church. Unlike you, I had not been exposed to Magical Realism and felt like I was just slopping through Pedro Paramo trying to make sense of it. The pleas for redemption in the book really stuck out to me and were an eerie reminder that it is not just this fleshly life we need concern ourselves with.
Yes, indeed, if the walls could talk. And in Pedro Páramo, they do! The trick, as you said, is in deciding whether we are hearing the living or the dead or if it even matters. Good post.
Good for people to know.
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