Madison

The overall feeling I had when reading this book was a kind of sadness, I guess; a mourning for the culture that was lost during the years that Franco ruled the country. The other big feeling I had reading this was anger at the system and fascism in general. All in all, this was a great book, though the ending felt a teeny bit rushed. I also feel like there was a lot of backstory that went undiscovered and like there was just too much story for this one-off medium length novel.

This has definitely been added to my list of absolute favorites

I like the idea of this book, and I do try my best to enjoy magical realism (I did, after all, love One Hundred Years of Solitude), but this just didn't do it for me. Tita makes stupid decisions, and I don't think that the book has any moral message at all. Far be it from me to claim that any and all books need a moral message, as they really don't, but I think this one is dangerous in its lack of such a thing. It depicts this “relationship” that is almost entirely based on lust, with no emotional development at all, and then the both of them die at the end from their mutual passion. It's ridiculous, and sets a dangerous standard for women. It's just that Tita and Pedro's relationship is so utterly milquetoast it's repulsive. John at least genuinely cares for and admires Tita, while Pedro really only cares for her body. I can't say anything against the theme of liberation in this book, but it bugs me that that might be the only thing some readers get out of it. I think (and maybe hope) that the way Esquivel writes John is to send readers a message about what real love and companionship should be, to set a standard for how a real man should behave (instead of keeling over after doing the deed, loser), but that hope is rather dashed by calling Pedro's forcing himself on Tita “true love”. It disgusts me. The only hope I can gather from this story is that part of its point is for readers like me to have the same reaction to it that I do, in order to get across less blatant themes, such as having standards and whatnot. Maybe I'm angry because I'm Catholic, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm angry. Maybe it's a story that portrays the negative effects of generational trauma, the hatred and hideous idiocy that can be born of loveless familial relationships. I just think that a lot of scenes in this book are of women being “liberated” by being swept off their feet by rapey, womanizing men. I think someday I'll have to read it it Spanish or perhaps write an essay about it to really get out my frustration at the way that it ends and the way the characters handle themselves. I think, if I looked long enough, this book could wash a waterfall of themes over me, but I don't want to. Obviously there is romance etc etc, but coupled with that is the idea of the liberation of women from traditional roles, the breaking of generational trauma (sort of), and the pursuit of one's own life. Depending on what kind of reader you are, you might romanticize the drama and thrill of it all, or you might hate the lesson it seems to convey, like I do. I think, if the book maybe lasted longer or cared less about the drama and more about the intricacy of characters rather than plot, I would like it better.

I really really really did not like most of this book. I found the main character, Lia, unlikeable at best and overly selfish at worst, but as the book wore on I think I could understand her better. (It does seem kind of insensitive that I didn't like her but eh) I feel like this is a book that certain people should be very careful about and others shouldn't even read, because despite its bringing to light a very important issue, it does so I a way that is what I assume would be problematic ally triggering for someone going through that same issue. 

Much Ado About Nothing is certainly top 5 Shakespeare ever, even if I haven't read enough of them to have a true ability to rank them. I love it nearly as much as I love Hamlet, if for completely different reasons. I will say, though, that this play is very much advantaged by performance; I don't know that I would like it near so much if I had read it without seeing it first. Being a comedy, the parts that are supposed to be funny can come off worse without the comedic sensibilities of whoever performs them. To read it is amusing, but to see it is hilarious. Even still, I love Much Ado.