Monday, August 30, 2010

Book Review - Memories of my Melancholy Whores

The work of Gabriel Garcia Marquez is regarded as some of our time’s greatest
literary achievements, with books winning numerous awards, including the Nobel Prize
for Literature. Whether talking about his groundbreaking Novel One Hundred Years of
Solitude, or exploring the intricacies of his short stories, such as A Very Old Man with
Enormous Wings, which are taught in classes across the world, Marquez is hailed as one
of the great voices of South American Literature, and a founder of the Magical Realism
genre.

While many of his books and stories have that magical realist edge, a trait that
treats the truly magical events of the world as mundane, but revels in the ordinary and
everyday, his novella, Memories of my Melancholy Whores, moves into a place that is
grounded in reality, yet fantastic in its exploration of love and virility. Following in the
wake of his 90th birthday, Garcia’s narrator find himself contemplating a life spent
without love, receiving his only sexual pleasure from the prostitutes that have come and
gone through the local brothel. The narrator, a lifetime writer for his local paper, boasts
that even though he had slept with over 500 whores by the time he was 50, he has found
no solace in the arms of women.

Garcia explores the possibility of love, even so late in life, when the narrator falls
for a young virgin, whom he intended to deflower for his birthday. He fails, however,
receiving something more than a sexual pleasure from the girl, “This was something new
for me. I was ignorant of the arts of seduction and had always chosen my brides for a
night at random, more for their price than their charms, and we had made love without
love, half-dressed most of the time and always in the dark, so we could imagine ourselves
as better than we were ... That night I discovered the improbable pleasure of
contemplating the body of a sleeping woman without the urgencies of desire or the
obstacles of modesty.” The book becomes a celebration of the body, and of the human
capability to find beauty in those bodies even beyond or before their prime.

While the narrator has lived a long life of somewhat leisure, the girl herself is a
factory worker, toiling by day and offering her body by night in order to help support her
family. This plays out over the course of a year or so, as the narrator celebrates the young
woman, showering her with gifts and creating poetry and prose for her. He becomes a
man revitalized in life, brought back as he almost leeches off the young virgin’s beauty.
While One Hundred Years of Solitude explored the birth, growth, and eventual
destruction of an isolated jungle town, this book immerses itself in those final hours of a
man, contrasts them against the first hours of a budding woman, and through his sexuality
and her own, and brings a new life into both of them. While it lacks the surface majesty
of some of Marquez’s better known books, Memories of My Melancholy Whores explores
more dangerous territory. It’s nothing political or social, but instead deals with the
physical, the closeness of two bodies, the distance that those two same bodies can have
emotionally, and the tenderness one can find when time has worn way all of the excess
edges and external polish, leaving behind a more internal beauty and a mental sexuality,
where the act of intercourse isn’t as important as just knowing someone is waiting in bed
for you.

Posted for KZ


http://www.amazon.com/Memories-Melancholy-Whores-Gabriel-Marquez/dp/140004460X

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Book Review - Welcome to the Monkey House

Kurt Vonnegut’s book, Welcome to the Monkey House, and the titular short story
tackle an assortment of topics that are all relevant to the world we live in today.
Frequently labeled as a “science fiction” writer, Vonnegut based his futuristic studies on
trends and patterns he observed in the world round him. Themes such as over-population,
technology dependency, government control, and resource shortages all began to pop up
in his short fiction.

Looking back on his body of stories today, we see a man who wasn’t writing
Science Fiction, but a man who was merely projecting his stories into a future he was
concerned would soon exist. It seems that he was very close to the mark.
His story “Welcome to the Monkey House” was first published in Playboy, and
then collected years later in a book of the same name. While the book is filled with
interesting stories and strangely accurate predictions to life beyond the era it was
written, “Welcome to the Monkey House” is the crown jewel of the book, and stands out
as perhaps the most socially relevant in light of recent events.
With female genital mutilation still in existence, and on the rise in our own
country, one has to wonder why anyone would subject a child to something that can scar
them for the rest of their lives. Why would a person possibly seek to stifle the sexual
urges or pleasures that we were born with? Vonnegut’s story explores the same territory,
lighting the piece against his familiar dystopian background.
In this future, the world has become one society, but with aging n death
conquered, the population has exploded beyond control. Several of his stories give us
glimpses into this world, a place where five and six generations of a family live in the
same house, fighting over who gets one of the few available beds. There are no jobs
because machines do most of the work, and the few human-held positions are never
vacated because no one gets sick and no one dies.

So in this world sexuality is suppressed and suicide is encouraged, most of the
time it’s even assisted. The legend goes that a famous doctor was offended when he
witnessed monkeys copulating in the local zoo while out with his family one day, and set
out to create a pill to crush sexual desire, effectively numbing the population from the
waist down. While an absurd notion, Vonnegut has the government latch on to this idea,
and makes the pills required by law. Any who refuse to deaden their nethers are
called “nothingheads” and are sought by the law. An obvious play on the term, “heads,”
slang for drug users or hippies during the sexual revolution, the “nothingheads” are the
heroes of this story, and are led by the rebellious Billy the Poet, who kidnaps virgin
women and forces himself on them.

Is this a world we’re heading to? The power of this, and many of Vonnegut’s
stories, is in the way he crafts it. The details are specific enough to seem true, but vague
enough to apply to any similar events that could have happened in the past or be
happening now. The real controversy in the story exists in the conflicted nature of
villany. Who is the b guy? Is the government bad for crushing our sex, pleasure, and
really any notion of free choice, or is it Billy the Poet n the “nothingheads”? Are they
right for rebelling, for kidnapping women and forcing them back into the “monkey
house”?

Review by K.Z.S.