Would there be some reasons not to consider it such? It is set in a fairly homogeneous community that is distinct in both ancestry and culture from not just most of the country but most of the city. That they are poor and a minority shapes and limits what they see as their life prospects.
Or maybe that can be put more sharply in that Cisneros chooses episodes that show she is interested not in telling a general story of childhood but a particular one of a girl growing up in this ethnic community. Hence the sad story of Geraldo No Last Name among others.
I just often forgot that I was reading stories about Hispanic culture as I read Cisneros, maybe because so many of her stories seemed so universal.
Here's something from the writer Alice McDermott that may explain what I mean. She said this in an interview about her novel "Charming Billy," which is almost exclusively concerned with the lives of Irish-Americans, but doesn't really feel like an "Irish novel."
The interviewer aks, "Did you set out to write about Irish-American life?"
ALICE McDERMOTT: No, I wouldn't say that I did. I set out to write about the things we believe in, and the way we feel, and things like hope and faith. Being Irish-American, myself, Irish-American material is readily at hand to me. I know Irish-American people. I know what their homes look like. I know what they have for dinner. I know how they turn a phrase. And so since it was readily available, it saves me lots of research time, and I can spend the time instead trying to develop the things that I think are important in fiction, and that is the inner life of the characters.
I liked that Geraldo story. It also brings up the notion that even in that culture there are gaps of understanding — those who were born here or who have become more Americanized don't automatically connect with new arrivals like Geraldo — "another brazer who didn't speak English. Just another wetback."
I wonder if this could be an effect of having read that introduction first. Cisneros talked about how after college she lived alone in Chicago. Her father neither understood or approved and kept trying to talk her into moving back home. The striving for a house of her own seems to be the struggle to establish the autonomy she needs to be her own person and the writer she wants to be. The struggle is against both family and the culture that forms and supports the family expectations. Hence the complex dance of become free from Mango Street without renouncing it.
Also in the introduction she talks about the time she spent teaching the kids from this neighborhood and trying to get them into college. She also said that several of the ideas for the stories in the book came from her students. So I took her to be much more invested in telling stories from this particular place than just using it as the material she knew best and found easiest to use.
Great question, Kim! Thanks for sharing. I would have classified this as an ethnic book - partly because so much of it is about feeling ashamed and yet proud of the "House on Mango Street." Without that tension, as Driftwood describes it, the novella wouldn't be the same.
I also found the themes and issues mentioned in this book to be "universal." Like Kim, I often didn't remember the Hispanic aspect of the book as much as superimposed my own European-Asian biracial experiences with the author's experience.
Did anyone else find themselves doing that - remembering childhood experiences similar to Cisneros' when reading the vignettes?
Yes, absolutely, Shanxi. I've already mentioned the rice sandwich story. It reminded me of how as a kid I could conjure a whole romance around a single word, as Esperanza did around "canteen." Anything that sounded slightly exotic or grownup. I think kids are very susceptible to the sounds of words.
Another story, though, that stands out in that regard is "Edna's Ruthie." Edna is the crabby landlady. Every week Edna is screaming at somebody, and every week somebody has to move away. Once she threw out a pregnant lady just because she owned a duck ...Little kids have a powerful affinity for animals and never understand why they can't keep them and why adults might not want them around! Reminded me of finding frogs and baby birds and whatnot and running up against that cursed adult resistance to giving them a home! Stupid grownups.
That story was also lovely because Ruthie has some issues that make her not quite "normal." She's a misfit in the adult world, and she actually seems more at home with kids. She likes candy and books and says random weird things.
My experience was that when you're a kid you don't understand adult issues and differences. You just think all adults are sort of equal, only that some are more fun than others. You don't understand that Ruthie is kind of an outcast and, thus, you don't judge or shun her as other adults might. You just think she's kind of kooky and awesome. It's only when you become aware that other adults don't think much of her that you start to pity or condescend to her or whatever. It's kind of like how kids aren't natural racists and bigots; they learn that stuff.
Also, the story about the kid with the big yellow Cadillac. Remember how little kids would be totally impressed by something like that? You'd think that guy was really important. It's sort of magical. But as an adult you'd think what a doofus and a showoff.
Nice! I also liked the little two-sentence treasure in "Cathy Queen of Cats" - "Alicia is stuck-up ever since she went to college. She used to like me but now she doesn't."
I met someone in kindergarten who was like that, even before the college experience. She'd play with me only when the "cool" kids were absent.
Did she get into some ritzy, elite kindergarten that made her ego swe1l?
You mentioned that you "superimposed my own European-Asian biracial experiences with the author's experience."
Your background is so interesting because you had parents from China and Australia who lived in New Zealand and then the U.S., right? Was that a difficult thing for your young playmates to understand?
"Chanclas" brought back memories for me, as I mentioned before. I didn't grow up poor, so I didn't have the experience of being stuck with the same saddle shoes year after year. But I was horribly self-conscious, and whenever my parents dragged me to some social function or other, I often fixated on some aspect of my appearance that wasn't up to snuff.
Ha! Kim, you just made my day. :) You're right - my dad was born in Australia and my mother's father is Chinese. She was born in Singapore.
Seriously, though, I was a pretty shy kid. I can identify with Erin about being self-conscious.
The person I was thinking about was a newcomer to the kindergarten, and she played with me quite happily until she made friends in higher places (older and less shy). Then she didn't have time for me any more and laughed at me because I was moving too slowly on the swings. Funny, the kinds of memories that stick with you!
Would there be some reasons not to consider it such? It is set in a fairly homogeneous community that is distinct in both ancestry and culture from not just most of the country but most of the city. That they are poor and a minority shapes and limits what they see as their life prospects.
ReplyDeleteOr maybe that can be put more sharply in that Cisneros chooses episodes that show she is interested not in telling a general story of childhood but a particular one of a girl growing up in this ethnic community. Hence the sad story of Geraldo No Last Name among others.
ReplyDeleteI just often forgot that I was reading stories about Hispanic culture as I read Cisneros, maybe because so many of her stories seemed so universal.
ReplyDeleteHere's something from the writer Alice McDermott that may explain what I mean. She said this in an interview about her novel "Charming Billy," which is almost exclusively concerned with the lives of Irish-Americans, but doesn't really feel like an "Irish novel."
The interviewer aks, "Did you set out to write about Irish-American life?"
ALICE McDERMOTT: No, I wouldn't say that I did. I set out to write about the things we believe in, and the way we feel, and things like hope and faith. Being Irish-American, myself, Irish-American material is readily at hand to me. I know Irish-American people. I know what their homes look like. I know what they have for dinner. I know how they turn a phrase. And so since it was readily available, it saves me lots of research time, and I can spend the time instead trying to develop the things that I think are important in fiction, and that is the inner life of the characters.
I liked that Geraldo story. It also brings up the notion that even in that culture there are gaps of understanding — those who were born here or who have become more Americanized don't automatically connect with new arrivals like Geraldo — "another brazer who didn't speak English. Just another wetback."
ReplyDeleteI wonder if this could be an effect of having read that introduction first. Cisneros talked about how after college she lived alone in Chicago. Her father neither understood or approved and kept trying to talk her into moving back home. The striving for a house of her own seems to be the struggle to establish the autonomy she needs to be her own person and the writer she wants to be. The struggle is against both family and the culture that forms and supports the family expectations. Hence the complex dance of become free from Mango Street without renouncing it.
ReplyDeleteAlso in the introduction she talks about the time she spent teaching the kids from this neighborhood and trying to get them into college. She also said that several of the ideas for the stories in the book came from her students. So I took her to be much more invested in telling stories from this particular place than just using it as the material she knew best and found easiest to use.
Great question, Kim! Thanks for sharing. I would have classified this as an ethnic book - partly because so much of it is about feeling ashamed and yet proud of the "House on Mango Street." Without that tension, as Driftwood describes it, the novella wouldn't be the same.
ReplyDeleteI also found the themes and issues mentioned in this book to be "universal." Like Kim, I often didn't remember the Hispanic aspect of the book as much as superimposed my own European-Asian biracial experiences with the author's experience.
Did anyone else find themselves doing that - remembering childhood experiences similar to Cisneros' when reading the vignettes?
Yes, absolutely, Shanxi. I've already mentioned the rice sandwich story. It reminded me of how as a kid I could conjure a whole romance around a single word, as Esperanza did around "canteen." Anything that sounded slightly exotic or grownup. I think kids are very susceptible to the sounds of words.
ReplyDeleteAnother story, though, that stands out in that regard is "Edna's Ruthie." Edna is the crabby landlady. Every week Edna is screaming at somebody, and every week somebody has to move away. Once she threw out a pregnant lady just because she owned a duck ...Little kids have a powerful affinity for animals and never understand why they can't keep them and why adults might not want them around! Reminded me of finding frogs and baby birds and whatnot and running up against that cursed adult resistance to giving them a home! Stupid grownups.
That story was also lovely because Ruthie has some issues that make her not quite "normal." She's a misfit in the adult world, and she actually seems more at home with kids. She likes candy and books and says random weird things.
My experience was that when you're a kid you don't understand adult issues and differences. You just think all adults are sort of equal, only that some are more fun than others. You don't understand that Ruthie is kind of an outcast and, thus, you don't judge or shun her as other adults might. You just think she's kind of kooky and awesome. It's only when you become aware that other adults don't think much of her that you start to pity or condescend to her or whatever. It's kind of like how kids aren't natural racists and bigots; they learn that stuff.
Also, the story about the kid with the big yellow Cadillac. Remember how little kids would be totally impressed by something like that? You'd think that guy was really important. It's sort of magical. But as an adult you'd think what a doofus and a showoff.
Kc picked out some very good examples. Here’s one I spotted.
ReplyDeleteMeme Ortiz:
This is the tree we chose for the First Annual Tarzan Jumping Contest. Meme won. And broke both arms.
We did that. And Meme was that hapless kid who lived two houses down.
Nice! I also liked the little two-sentence treasure in "Cathy Queen of Cats" - "Alicia is stuck-up ever since she went to college. She used to like me but now she doesn't."
ReplyDeleteI met someone in kindergarten who was like that, even before the college experience. She'd play with me only when the "cool" kids were absent.
What?! You were the coolest of kids!
ReplyDeleteDid she get into some ritzy, elite kindergarten that made her ego swe1l?
You mentioned that you "superimposed my own European-Asian biracial experiences with the author's experience."
Your background is so interesting because you had parents from China and Australia who lived in New Zealand and then the U.S., right? Was that a difficult thing for your young playmates to understand?
"Chanclas" brought back memories for me, as I mentioned before. I didn't grow up poor, so I didn't have the experience of being stuck with the same saddle shoes year after year. But I was horribly self-conscious, and whenever my parents dragged me to some social function or other, I often fixated on some aspect of my appearance that wasn't up to snuff.
ReplyDeleteHa! Kim, you just made my day. :) You're right - my dad was born in Australia and my mother's father is Chinese. She was born in Singapore.
ReplyDeleteSeriously, though, I was a pretty shy kid. I can identify with Erin about being self-conscious.
The person I was thinking about was a newcomer to the kindergarten, and she played with me quite happily until she made friends in higher places (older and less shy). Then she didn't have time for me any more and laughed at me because I was moving too slowly on the swings. Funny, the kinds of memories that stick with you!