Hi Class,

This time I have several questions. I thought maybe more people could be involved if there were more options from which to choose.

1) In the story "My Name," Cisneros explores the diversity of name. What do you think she means by saying that Esperanza’s name is "like the number nine"? What do you think of the childlike voice she utilizes for the work?

2) "Laughter" has always been one of my favorite parts of this book, and "Gil’s Furniture Bought and Sold" goes right along with it. To me it’s like a connection through metaphor, the recognition between sisters of an archetype, or a synaesthesia that you feel with someone else because of your same experience. I guess this isn’t really a question but rather a comment. Anyone else have a comment about this? Also, what do you think of the form Cisneros utilizes in writing this book? Do you like the vignettes or fragments? Do you think they accomplish her purpose?

In the article Petty argues that Cisneros is bringing forward a dualism that Petty says works to define women in Latino culture—the "good," virginal, Guadalupe-like woman or the "bad," "dirty," malinche. Petty argues that Cisneros is revealing how this dualism stifles the multifaceted personality of the Latina. Does anyone have a comment on this?

La Malinche? Beyond October 14." You can also just perform a basic search on the web, and you’ll get plenty of hits on this topic.

Look forward to hearing from you.

Becky

Becky,
In response to question # 3 regarding "The ‘Dual’-ing Images of la Malinche and la Virgen de Guadalupe in Cisneros’s The House on Mango Street"
I'd like to say first that the concept of dueling images in feminism is not uncommon. Many women face the challenges of what women's studies academics and feminists call the madonnna/whore dichotomy which means women, in general, face the challenge of the idea that men view women as either saint or sinner, mother or lover, pure and innocent or sexual and vulgar. This dichotomy poses problems, of course, in that either way the female is objectified and is being defined by the dominant male. In a paper I wrote in a previous class I discussed this dichotomy in terms of blondness. In my research I found a quote that went something like this: men want to kiss the blonde but marry the brunette. In this case the blonde represents the "whore" and the brunette the "Madonna."  In a more practical scenario, women working in the maquiladoras on the Texas-Mexico border confront this dichotomy imposed by the unemployed male workforce. In this case, the women incorporated into the industrial workforce are accused of improper moral behavior based solely on the male supposition that if a women is not at home (Madonna) then she must be immoral (whore).

For many Latinas la Virgen de Guadalupe is a symbol of female empowerment however, because of the association of the Madonna/whore dichotomy with la Virgen de Guadalupe some female artists are now recreating the image of the Virgen de Guadalupe. For instance, Alma Lopez's image of the Virgin exhibited at the International Museum of Folk Art  is "bikini clad" -- an image which Lopez describes as "a strong Virgen dressed in roses." It appears that, for this artist, she is attempting to resist the dichotomy by blurring the lines between Madonna and whore.

I see Cisneros' Sally as an expression of the push and pull of the dichotomy. In Sally's case I think she is innocent enough in her initial clothing and make-up choices but is pushed to extremes when forced into the Madonna role by her father.

Andrea Dunn
Acdjdd@aol.com

Hi Becky,

Cisneros' use of vignettes/fragments and choppiness of form was nice to see.

My favorite reads are usually contemporary Amer. novels that follow in a very contemporary form of this type, sometimes called metafiction. This text was difficult for me to get into because it is written from the child's point of view. Cisneros effectively uses this form as a method of conveying the child point of view through simple sentences, less development of characters and short chapters. The simple structure enables the child to express her feelings and perceptions of the world around her, whereas adults would be less able to express themselves with so little words. We always seem to complicate things.

At the same time, the vignettes and fragmentation serve as a vehicle to exhibit the child's lack of identity and security. As she ages, her sentences grow in length and complexity, as do the chapters. We see that the fragmentation occurs less as she begins to understand her surroundings and her own existence - as she acquires a stronger sense of self and direction.

As I stated earlier, my favorite reads are usually the novels that make use of the "contemporary form" we see here. In our reads this semester I have looked at the contemporary novels and tried to work them into the "typical" contemporary American canon, and this one is the first that comes close to fitting that style, as a result of its structure and form. I am sure a great deal more lies underneath this form, but upon first superficial inspection, that is what I have examined.

Donnette Arnold

I love the vignette format Cisneros uses in her story. It is so interesting to take each story out and look at it as a separate piece. Being a high school english teacher in a district with a Hispanic majority, I have the opportunity to take these little stories and have them personalized by my students. Cisneros is so unique in that her vignettes can be read on a surface level and on a symbolic or meaningful level. That quality helps all my students because the lower-level kids can understand what Esperanza or her characters are going through, and the higher-level students can reach a more symbolic understanding of the text. The vignette style also assists students who are intimidated by lengthy works. Her brief stories appeal to frightened students that do not like to read. If I can just open that door to reading, the students gain a confidence to try longer pieces. If Cisneros did not write House on Mango Street with a series of vignettes, many young students would be denied the opportunity to identify with someone they recognize.

In thinking about Esperanza's name being "like the number nine," I wondered if the number nine is an unlucky number in Mexican culture or superstition. However, I could not find any evidence to support this. Another thought dawned on me this morning while I was listening to the radio on my way to work. A lot of radio contests select winners based on the order in which they call in. Being the ninth caller can be disappointing if the winner is caller ten. The line before, "like the number nine," is, "It means sadness, it means waiting." This is one thought on the matter despite the fact it's pretty flaky!

Also, I liked the style Cisneros used to write the book. The vignettes about a girl growing up are very believable coming from a child's voice. Cisneros gives the character a voice and it allows us as adults to see the world from a child's point of view. Life experiences are also remembered in fragments and a child's thoughts and oral interpretations often jump from subject to subject. I felt like I was experiencing Esperanza's life as I read the book.

I think Cisneros did accomplish her purpose to give readers a glimpse into the life of a young girl.

Take care,

Linda Harvey

Becky,

Here are my comments on part 2 of your question:

The "Laughter" chapter of The House on Mango Street really spoke to me too. The relationship between Nenny and Esperanza is so much like the one I share with my own sister- we don't look alike, but our voices are identical. We're opposite in so many ways, but very much alike in others. The things one shares with a sister, or sibling, aren't really all that apparent until you're among other people. There's a connection you share with a sibling, from having grown up with the same parents, in the same environment, with the same traditions, expectations, etc. A sibling has a better understanding of who you are, having been such a part of your past...especially if you are close in age. The fact that Nenny knew just what Esperanza meant about the houses in Mexico, whereas Rachel and Lucy did not, is a perfect example.

The episode in Gil's Furniture store is cute and so funny because it's obvious both sisters want the box. Of course Esperanza won't let Nenny know she cares too much about it, because every sister knows that if your sister thinks you want something of hers, she automatically holds the power (so to speak) in the relationship. The reversal of power won't occur again until you can get a hold of something she wants! So it's understandable that Esperanza wouldn't want Nenny to know she's also interested in the music box.

I love the way Cisneros wrote this book using the small vignettes. They are reminiscent of memories- bits and pieces floating around in your head. It's like looking through a photo album with the pictures all mixed up. Christmas pictures next to birthday pictures, vacation pictures next to family reunion pictures. Everything is compiled haphazardly to form the memories of a young girls life. I think this form is the best way to possible to accomplish her purpose because she is able to get so much across with so few words and in such a beautifully simple way.

Hi Class,

Thanks to those of you who answered the questions on House on Mango Street.

Question 5:1—

I enjoyed reading Linda’s thoughts on Esperanza’s name. I think that Cisneros would like the fact that we are wondering about the meaning of "Esperanza" and struggling with the word and the label it gives to the girl/young woman in the book. Esperanza says that her name is a "muddy color." It seems that one of Cisneros’ points throughout the stories is that life is varied and that Esperanza as a character is varied. She is not just hope; she is sadness too; she’s the virgin and the malinche, and many other things as well. When I read Esperanza saying that her name was "like the number nine," I thought of the way a nine looks—turn it over and it becomes a six. But she’s not just a dualism (e.g. malinche or virgin); rather, she is those two things and more.

Question 5:2—

The vignette form makes this book fabulous in my opinion. As Jennifer comments, it can be used with students on a surface level as well as on a symbolic one. When I lived in Lake Jackson, I taught ESL, and I used this text because it was generally easy to read and motivated my adult students more than children’s books did.

Donnette also makes an interesting point about the vignette form. I hadn’t noticed it until she pointed it out, but the sentences and chapters grow in complexity as Esperanza grows. The innocence that Cisneros gives to Esperanza opens out and encompasses more and more as Esperanza gains knowledge. A lot of times when women (e.g. Sally or Esperanza’s mother) gain knowledge, it is too late. They are closed in and can’t expand—Sally is so closed in her husband won’t even allow her to look out the window.

I think Jamie’s comments on this are really poetic—I love the comparison of the vignettes to a photo album with individual pictures all jumbled up yet forming memories—"the memories of a young girls life."

Question 5:3—

Andrea makes some good points on the virgin/whore dichotomy that Cisneros’ character Sally brings to light. Thanks for the tip on Lopez’s "bikini clad" virgin. I have not seen this rendition of the virgin, but the "blurring" of the point at which the virgin ends and the whore begins is very interesting. I’m sure that this is what Cisneros is doing and is the reason she talks so much about the varied meanings of things—for instance the thirty different words for snow in the Eskimo language and all the different meanings of Esperanza’s name—she blurring the dichotomy.

Thanks to everyone who answered the questions. If anyone else has comments I’ll be more than happy to respond.

Becky