Thursday, November 30, 2006

It's not what she says, but how she says it.

Through her literary style, which I would describe as choppy, segmented, and scattered, Cisneros has aptly captured one element of the city that is also present in a number of the other works we've encountered this semester.

With quickly paced anecdotes, she introduces a lot of names and stories into a very short space and without a complete picture being developed. This is so effective because it reflects the way in which many, or at least I, encounter the city. One aspect of the city for which many search is its anonimity, or at least the opportunity to remain virtually faceless, as opposed to the small-town phenomenon in which every one knows each other.

This understanding the Cisneros possesses which indicates that the city is too large and cumbersome for one point of view to encase it is also present in Calvino, who posits a myriad of definitions for a city as individual entities, and then later proposes the idea that they are all one city. Danticat also grabs hold of this in the way in which each story revolves around a seemingly separate, seemingly faceless individual or group.

The reason I take this to be so apparent and such a truthful observation is because I have recently been confronted with the realization that each person sees the city in a unique way, and I think this is never more true than on the bus. As buildings race by, I know that I am limited to only one angle, and that that angle is inherently lacking because I can't even see the structures' more important side--the inside. Moreover, as I look into the eyes of my fellow riders, I can see that they see the city differently, but I don't know what they see.

And don't even get me started on what I hear...