I suspect we are witnessing the end of a genre. In 1959 a revolution led by Fidel Castro
succeeded in toppling Cuban President Batista, a puppet of the United States,
resulting in a shutdown of relations between the two countries -- one authoritarian
dictatorship replaced by another. In
2015, the “normalization” process, brokered by Pope Francis, began, its future is
still largely uncertain.
Between those two dates are 56 years of intense,
controversial, fiercely debated, history and culture; tinged with enough
conspiracy theories to keep Hollywood and the National Inquirer in script for
decades. This background includes the Bay
of Pigs, Cuban Missile Crisis, the (John) Kennedy assassination, the Peruvian
Embassy & Operation Peter Pan, the Mariel Boat Flotilla, the Tropicana and the
“Mob,” the Buena Vista Social Club, and the Malecon, … not a complete
list. And, let’s not forget that
decidedly Cuban-American cultural icon from my childhood, Ricky Ricardo.
Much has been written about these 56 years, both fiction and
non-fiction, including a fun little book I read earlier this week called Dreaming in Cuban, by Christina
Garcia. Her book is almost unique in the
“Cuban Revolution” genre because it let its characters make the value
judgements, not the author, and the characters have different takes on their
shared history. It’s also interesting
because in this decidedly “macho” culture, its main characters are entirely
female.
The copy I read has a library stamp in it from the
International School in Panama, which is probably an interesting story in its
own right.
The characters span a multi-generation family who are
divided politically. The matriarch is
Celia, a devoted follower of El Lider (Fidel Castro). She provides much of the history of the rich-poor
divisions in the country that allowed the revolution to happen in the first
place. She has two daughters and a son: Felicia,
is a practitioner of native religion and ends up being institutionalized for
mental health reasons – Celia raises Felicia’s son (who plays only a minor role
in the book, until the very end); Lourdes, marries a wealthy man, they lose
everything in the revolution, fleeing to the U.S. and eventually settling in
Brooklyn (her father will eventually join them); and Javier, who is raised in
Cuba and joins the Communist Party, eventually taking a teaching position in
Prague – when his wife leaves him, he returns to Cuba to drink himself into
oblivion.
Playing an outsize role in the book is Lourdes’ daughter
Pilar, raised in the U.S., she is a fan of Lou Reed and all things punk – the
contrast between her political indifference, and her mother’s vehement
anti-Castro tirades are the core of the book.
Recommendation: Because of its many dream sequences, the book
is confusing at times, but it is also an interesting read.
interesting cause on the date of the publication of the novel this happened per wikipedia
ReplyDelete'The Cuban Democracy Act was a bill presented by U.S. Congressman Robert Torricelli and passed in 1992 which prohibited foreign-based subsidiaries of U.S. companies from trading with Cuba, travel to Cuba by U.S. citizens, and family remittances to Cuba. The act was passed as “A bill to promote a peaceful transition to democracy in Cuba through the application of sanctions directed at the Castro government and support for the Cuban people.” The act stated that “[t]he government of Fidel Castro has demonstrated consistent disregard for internationally accepted standards of human rights and for democratic values” adding “[t]here is no sign that the Castro regime is prepared to make any significant concessions to democracy or to undertake any form of democratic opening.”[1] Congressman Torricelli stated that the act was intended to "wreak havoc on that island."'