Translated from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney
As Spanish lit month begins to draw to a close (I’m actually not sure when it ends) and my attention shifts to #Witmonth, I’m squeaking in with my review of Mexican novel Ramifications. My second book from Charco press this month – and I’m so glad I made time for it. I had seen a couple of reviews of this one, so was fairly sure I would like it, but it actually exceeded my expectations.
“The memories we return to most frequently are the most inaccurate, the least faithful to reality.”
I do love a coming of age type narrative – and in this novel the narrator looks back at his childhood – specifically the time around the disappearance of his mother Teresa when he was ten. It is also a novel of memory, and how our memories can torment us as well as comfort us. In the present, he is a thirty-two year old man, unable to leave his bed, trapped by the past, overwhelmed still by the single most defining moment of his life.
The story is told in two time periods. The first 1994, in the days and weeks after Teresa’s disappearance – a disappearance that has such a traumatic effect on her son. The second, more than twenty years later – when the adult narrator has retreated so far from the world he struggles to leave his bed, and his sister has been forced to send a regular cleaner to his apartment. What has led this man to retreat from the world so recently, more than two decades after his mother left, and two years after his father’s death?
In the Educación neighbourhood of Mexico City, in the summer of 1994, our unnamed narrator and his older teenage sister are on summer holidays from school, when their mother Teresa walks out of the family home. She goes to join the Zapatista uprising, and never returns. She leaves behind a letter for her husband which her young son longs to get a look at – hoping it will tell him when she is coming home or where she is.
“It’s commonly said that denial is the first phase of mourning, but for me, at the age of ten, it wasn’t just the first but, for a long time, the only phase. Through a process of highly complex mental gymnastics, I managed to convince myself that not only was Teresa still alive, but that she was more attentive to what was happening in my life than she’d ever been in the past. During the first two or three years, I used to imagine her reaction to anything I did. I could almost hear her robotic voice explaining why I didn’t need a certain toy, or why memorising dates was not the best way to study for my history class, why my sister’s life would be more difficult than mine because she was a woman.”
The woman he remembers and who remains a shadowy presence throughout the novel he describes as speaking in a flat monotone, an unemotional woman who leaves behind her just a handful of memories for her son to cling on to. In the wake of her disappearance the boy is left to make sense of this new world with his distant father, and teenage sister Mariana – who is naturally more interested in her teenage pursuits than her younger sibling.
For some time, the boy has been trying to teach himself the art of origami – with little success – but it becomes one of a number of obsessions, folding and refolding squares of paper, folding and refolding leaves into perfect halves – just as he will continue to unfold and refold the memories of that summer in 1994. He is a lonely, imaginative boy. Left alone in the house while his father is at work and his sister out with her friends, he builds himself a ‘zero luminosity capsule’ in his wardrobe to protect himself from the bogeyman, spending hours hidden inside – it quickly becomes a refuge. As the summer progresses he introduces more strange rituals into his days, favouring the left hand side of his body. He isolates himself from his peers, and falls out with his best friend at school.
With the encouragement of Rat – a teenage gang leader who’s been dating his sister, he undertakes a twelve hour journey by himself in search of Teresa. Inspired by the Choose Your Own Adventure stories he has been reading, he imagines a future reconciliation, his quest a need to put everything back the way it was. A journey on which he meets frightening cruelty and unexpected kindness.
“Nowadays, I rarely remember my dreams. Although I spend many hours in bed, my waking and sleeping lives have turned their backs on one another. Nothing of what happens while I sleep filters into my waking existence, except for a sense of angst that seems to issue from that dark place to which I escape every so often on an unfixed schedule.”
What the author does so well here – and why I so enjoy these coming of age type narratives – is to recreate that confused, uncertainty that is a child’s view of a very adult situation.
This is such an impressive novel – it is easy to see why Daniel Saldaña Paris is such a highly regarded writer in Mexico.
I do like the sound of this one. Those quotes are so darkly evocative.
Yes, the whole book is very evocative. A really good read.
hmm, I added this on my tbr!
Hope you enjoy it.
This sounds excellent. The quotes you pulled are so precise and sensitive. I’ve not heard of this author but he sounds so accomplished.
A very accomplished author, who I believe has another novel translated into English.
Coming of age and memory – two of my favourite themes in fiction right there. I think I may have to add this to the list, Ali. You’ve made it sound pretty unmissable! It seems quite filmic too. There’s a lot of interesting cinema coming out of the LatAm region at the moment, so I’ll be interested to see if this gets picked up…
Yes, two favourite themes of mine too. Actually you’re right, it’s very filmic, and I did think it would adapt well to the screen.
This does indeed sound powerful Ali – all that sublimated grief, and the poor boy coping with the trauma of his mother’s loss by retreating into himself. Capturing the voice of a child must, I think, be one of the hardest things to write and it sounds as if the author really nailed it here.
Very powerful in its depiction of a traumatised child, trying to make sense of his loss. I think child pov is hard to get right, but done well it’s brilliant. The narrator here though is looking back on his childhood, so the gaze is adult, but his memory of childhood still really poignant.
Gosh, that does sound powerful. I’m really hoping one day my Spanish will be good enough to read novels like this in the original, though I doubt it will be. Thank goodness for translators!
Yes it was, and very good. I’m always impressed with people learning languages as I have no talent for them at all. Keep going, you’ll get there.
Lovely review, Ali! I read RAMIFICATIONS around six months ago and was very impressed with it too. A lot of it has stayed in my mind, particularly, that harrowing bus journey late night.
Thank you. Yes, that bus journey is a very memorable episode. So glad you enjoyed this one too.
I just love that simple quotation you’ve opened with: on my TBR now (and, fortunately, it’s in the library). Thank you!
Oh good, I hope you enjoy it.