A vibrant life such as Adela Vázquez's would need to be visually rendered to have the fullness of her existence celebrated. We need these portraits of her sitting in her arm chair, happily smoking (7) explaining how things were, especially in the context of surviving so many obstacles to get where she is, in all her fabulousness.
There were so many things in the way of her self-actualization: the treacherous and violent voyage to the Miami shores (being let out of the truck to Mariel Harbor in the mob and getting beaten), getting exempt from the military, the AIDS crisis, she went through a lot. There is an important "femininity unlocked" perspective in the way Cortez draws her in the present, looking back, in cells that separate part of the narrative and break through. She has to live as a man for a long time before she gets to truly be herself.
One important visual in the narrative is the scene where she throws Mama's pesos out the bus window, leaving them in Cuba. (27) The perspective is from below, like the reader is a person in the street that the bus is passing by, and we can see the blood on her shirt and her black eye as she releases the money, which is fluttering about and curling in the wind, it's a real "in motion" moment. It helps that the perspective places the reader below, because I got a sense of being left behind, and the true glory of her escape. The money seems to be moving, and it adds to the power of the scene, her letting go and really leaving everything behind.
Another stunning visual is the portrait of the future Adela, seen from behind, while she is on the boat just leaving Mariel Harbor. (35) Another escapee is talking to her, speculating that Castro had planned to take the boat out and send them all to their watery death, asking Adela if she believes they'll make it to Florida. "You got familia in Florida?" he asks, and Adela says "No...but there's an American woman. She's waiting for me." And she means herself, once she has transitioned and become her true self. The portrait Cortez created of the future her is lovely, with just black pointilism forming spirals all around her like mystical bubbles. She has a long braid and earrings, short shorts and a low-backed shirt, and it feels like a dreamy fantasy. I think this wouldn't work as well as a regular novel description, because it takes up half the page, just after a cell showing her smiling to herself and fantasizing about it, still with stubble and a black eye, but allowing herself this wonderful image that awaits her new life in America. Something about her miserable journey preceding this sequence makes it that much more powerful, the promise of freedom.
My favorite visual though is when Adela describes coming to terms with the transmisogyny in her gay community. Her friends were trashing transwomen and were against her living as a woman. She even ended up joining in with them sometimes because the tide was so strong against her transitioning. The cell I have in mind is her sitting in her armchair, alongside her vivacious plant, ticking off on her fingers with a "time's up" stance, and her face says it all, she was done. (58) She decided to stop putting up with the transphobic and discriminatory friends, "I had to sit these bitches down, pull out the Rolex, and tell their asses what time it was." It's a striking image because it shows Adela in her full feminine power, standing up for herself. The way she holds her hands like she is making a numeric list really shows she's not taking it anymore. There would be no way to convey that sentiment as powerfully in words.
I really appreciate your perspective on the portrait of Adela throwing her mother's money/her country's money out of the window. Particularly this part:
ReplyDelete"The perspective is from below, like the reader is a person in the street that the bus is passing by, and we can see the blood on her shirt and her black eye as she releases the money, which is fluttering about and curling in the wind." I tried to imagine how this would feel as a reader if it was from Adela's perspective... maybe we'd see her hands throwing the money through a bus window, and watch the pesos flutter down to the ground.
Hmmm. As I write this response to your blog, I'm realizing that we really never see Adela's body (or world) through her eyes. That's a really important choice for Cortez to take. To me, this has better ethical implications for telling someone else's story. It also just makes for a more interesting story, because we can actually see Adela?
Your post has me thinking about the ways that narrative perspective can be a window or a mirror for the reader... are we seeing through her eyes, like a mirror, or our own, like a window?
Anyway, back to your blog. I'm interested in how you interpret the moment on p. 35. I agree that it is beautiful... and I also felt closed off from her imagined future. I wonder if this represents that Adela felt closed off as well? Or if we as readers are deliberately kept at bay? I can't let go of this image and what it says...
Booz,
ReplyDeleteyou give a great sense of positionally and how the graphics point to the position of the character and of the reader., how it's positioned historically and through the narrator's yees.