21st Century Literature discussion

Here we cover up to part 2 of the book, which includes chapters 5: Poor Abelard, and 6: Land of the Lost.

For me, chapter 5 was the most compelling of the entire book, where we learn Beli's backstory. It's also (IMO) the best written. Thoughts?

Also, don't miss on some side topics going up shortly, namely one on his use of footnotes, Fuku, and the mongoose question.

I think what I loved most about this book was the regressive temporal waves of narration. It begins to tell a story, then reaches into the past to develop an antecedent—almost as a casual narrative clause. Then it comes back to the present before reaching even further into the past to develop an antecedent prior to the last (an ante-antecedent?). It's like watching the tide roll back to reveal the detritus that wasn't visible just short hours ago. That narrative structure had me absolutely hooked, and served to flesh out hidden layers of the characters which wouldn't have had the same impact if the story was told chronologically in the standard "epic" fashion.

I agree with you Will, I am right in the middle of Beli's story and it is - until now - the part I enjoy the most. I have to say I've really struggled with the book, which has a lot to do with the tone of the narrative voice it is using in the first view chapters, that for some reason I am slightly allergic to. In lack of a better description (and without any hope of being able to jugde objectivly) I'd call it "forcefully jolly". The fact that I am reading the German translation (my library didn't have the original) might not help either, but I discovered that listening to it rather than reading it actually does the trick for me, so I am now jumping back and forth between the two.

Like Daniel I enjoy the "tidal" change of narrated time. For a moment I was lost when it jumped back to Beli's story that until that point had not left a pleasant impression whatsoever. But it felt quite nice to get lost in that way, to not recognize her for a moment and to find myself emphasizing with a character I could hardly relate to before, not knowing they were the same.

A lot of this book is the narration, and two side threads I created earlier today both touch on that, one the footnotes, which Diaz comments on himself to reveal more importance than might first be obvious,
http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1...

and the other to do with the narrator himself, although I'm not fully fleshing that thread out for a few more days yet so to not spoil anything for anybody. http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1...

I've been thinking a lot about Diaz's narrative choices and his interesting play with point of view. It's one of the things I like best.

I didn't mind the skipping around at all.

I confess when I originally got a sample of this book on my Kindle last year. He lost me. His musings on Fuku just didn't grab me.

I think (sorry maybe this should be in the part one discussion) that this was his one mistake. I think he should have started with something less conceptual.

@Deborah: I LOVED how he started with Fuku. It totally grabbed me by the throat and left me breathless. I can still remember being literally jaw agape after that intro. That's when I was won over, and the rest of the book simply existed to confirm that fact.

The narrative choices are pretty impressive as well. When I tried piecing together the elements in my mind, I couldn't believe how many points of view were used. It just felt so fluid. The only real break in rhythm for me was Yunior's piece (perhaps because he's not really part of the family unit? not cursed by the family fuku?). Everything else felt of one piece, woven from the same cloth.

Daniel wrote: "@Deborah: I

LOVED

how he started with Fuku. It totally grabbed me by the throat and left me breathless. I can still remember being literally jaw agape after that intro. That's when I wa..."

I had not thought about it, but this is right. The Fuku is tremendous glue for the novel.

I'm not saying it should not have appeared in the text. I'm saying that it did not grab me as an opener.

@Deborah: I may have been a little forceful in stating my opinion **sheepish grin**, but my intent was to make an observation about how something that might not work for one person is sheer magic for another.

On another note, one thing I'm not sure what to make of, and I'm not quite sure how to put it delicately, is the issue of Beli's blackness at birth and the response that engenders. It seems related to Will's question of Dominican identity from the first bit. There certainly seems to be a need for homogeneity. A man has to be a *man* and a girl shouldn't have naturally straight hair. Plus, your skin can't have an excessive amount of melanin.

I don't see that need for homogeneity. In NY at least. Of course, I haven't been Dominican lately. But there seems to be an enjoyment of the wide range of appearance. They are not a monotone country. But that there is a threshold of darkness is also a reality, but understandable. You see that threshold in so many places, The US, India, etc. why should the D.R. be different.

More interesting is reconciling the biology to the narrative. What do we make of the Diaz's assertion that cannot be true? Darkness is not a recessive gene. You cannot be darker than your parents. Yet, he assures us that she is the biological child of Abelard and Socorro - you know after assuring us that she's not by making her so dark.

Well, to some extent you have to remember that the shared border with Haiti and the relations of the two countries (even ignoring the very complex history of the area in the era of Hispaniola) partly explains the problems of skin tone and group identity. Certainly there are a number of communities throughout world history extending to the present day that have a number of really arbitrary and cruel measurements, ranging from the ridiculous and contrived separation of the people of Rwanda to comparisons with paper products. These are remnants of an embarrassing period of human history which we inch painfully away from each year, seemingly with no end in sight, but crawl we must. But notice at times where it's said that she's so dark she must be Haitian? I think that partly explains it more than some sort of need for homogeneity.

However, I have to point something painful out, which is that skin color, while it's true it's not recessive, IS additive. So, getting a mix of genes from each parent add up to whatever your general melanin will be, but the statistical range usually puts the child nearer the middle than the extremes, but it is actually quite possible for a child to be darker than the parents, and this is even before we admit that skin color is additionally effected by a range of gene expression ranging from the amount the skin will be effected by sun to admitting that there are ALSO several other genes that also bear an impact on melanin production that are more or less randomly impactful, so additional and unpredictable variation is possible. Certainly a number of these factors are rare, but given the human *ahem* enthusiasm for recreational recombinant genetic experimentation (if we called it that, kids would never try it!) it's natural to expect plentiful examples of the statistically rare outcomes.

So, I suspect Diaz didn't mean anything by it.

Also, I have to agree with Deborah that the Fuku is a rather poor opener, and while it IS the glue that binds the story, I thought it could have been handled more adroitly.

And sorry for the genetics, I myself am the result of a noted genetics professor and a biologist. One's childhood breaks through at times.

I am glad that you weighed in there with the genetics. So, don't apologize! In fact if you were to go back and edit that apology with a big old strike through that would be a ok with me.

@Will: The Haitian issue was something running in the back of my mind as well. It's almost a matter of defining one's self in the negative: non-Haitian. Between this and Deborah's point of reconciling biology with narrative, I think I'll have to leave the incongruence as a teasing allusion to something just beyond my kenning—sort of like a piece of corn stuck in your teeth that you can't stop worrying at with your tongue.

The use of "Fuku" for the opening worked for me. It set up a story where many bad things will happen, including some freakishly bad things, but tells you up front that there is a mysterious force in the background influencing events.

Casceil wrote: "The use of "Fuku" for the opening worked for me. It set up a story where many bad things will happen, including some freakishly bad things, but tells you up front that there is a mysterious force ..."

I agree and I think it worked well with framing Oscar's own narrative with the de Leon family history. The focus on the curse helped unify the stories.

As an opening it felt slight irritating, but by the time I'd finished the book I was convinced that it was entirely appropriate.

I agree that when you look at the entirety of the book it works. But when you order a sample from Amazon, less.

When you have a history where every generation makes bull-headed mistakes and runs afoul of an evil government and/or its minions, with resulting torture, beatings, etc., I think you need an explanation like Fuku to make it hang together. When a mother, and many years later her son, both get beaten nearly to death in a cane field as a result of a relationship with someone whose wife or lover is jealous and violent,it might otherwise seem like too much coincidence. When Belli and Oscar are each rescued from the cane field, in a near dead state, by some sort of supernatural intervention, you need an explanation like Fuku to avoid it seeming to be too incredible to be coincidence. Opening by explaining that Fuku is why the Kennedys have had so many tragedies is a way of demonstrating that in the real world, sometimes the improbable happens.

If I'd seen the opening as a sample from Amazon I'd have run a mile. But then I would never have read this book if it hadn't been a group read and I'm very glad I did. So, we’re doing what it says on the tin (or some-such)!

NB The experience of reading the book – as opposed to listening to it – is very different. I gained a lot by engaging with both.

Funny that you mention that Sophia, because for me - after really having struggled with the book in the beginning - switching to the audiobook actually kept me going and allowed me to be drawn in. I still think it is ironic that I got annoyed with the tone of the book when listening to my own voice in my head, but was perfectly fine and actually really enjoyed that same tone of narration when having it read to me.

Jenny, your experience makes sense to me. I listened to the audio book in my car, but kept a paper copy with me to go back over things I wasn't sure of, or sometimes to read ahead. The reader on the audiobook is very good, and adds a flavor that I would not have created in my own head. I think I enjoyed the audio book much more than I would have liked just reading the paper copy.

The Fuku frames the entire book for me and how I am going to read it. It’s a tale, an epic journey, an origin story, etc. Like mentioned above, it sets up all of the “fantastical” elements or “coincidences” that occur in the novel so that they are believable. I don’t think that you can start the book in any other way. To say that the Fuku as an opener didn’t grab you sounds more like a taste issue.

Absolutely. My complaint was always intended to be subjective.