Gioconda Belli, The Inhabited Woman (1989)
I read this book because a friend lent it to me when she saw that I was reading Latin American novels. It's probably one of my less-lovable traits: I always feel annoyed at having my reading imposed upon in this way. I want to read what I want to read, how dare anyone make me modify my plans argh! And especially if someone actually gives you a book; if they just recommend it, it's easy to make vague, affirmative noises and then keep doing what you're doing, but in that case, you really feel obligated. Hey, as I say, I'm not saying these are particularly admirable thought processes, just that I have them.
It's also unfair to the books in
question, as they start with a strike against them. But okay okay,
this book was not at all unpleasant to read. I admit it! Belli
(1948- ) is a Nicaraguan author who participated in the anti-Samoza
underground movement in the seventies and later played a role in the
Sandanista government. This autobiographical-ish novel is about that
resistance in a lightly veiled version of Nicaragua. Lavinia is a
woman from a privileged upper-class upbringing who becomes involved
in the movement, at first kind of accidentally, and then with greater
determination. But there's a twist! Sort of. Which is that she's
inhabited (BOOM) by the spirit of an Indian warrior woman who had
resisted Spanish colonization of the area back in the day, and who
comments on and influences her thinking. And...that's the twist.
Yeah, I dug it, once I got into it.
It's interesting (if maybe possibly slightly underdone) on gender
and social class (INTERSECTIONALITY!), and it's frequently just plain
exciting. The only thing I didn't super care for is, actually, the
whole inhabiting business, even though from reading the back cover,
that had seemed like the most interesting thing to me. In theory, it
allows for outside commentary on the story, and lets the one model of
resistance mirror the other. And, I mean, okay, I guess in fact,
too. But I thought it pretty superfluous (if not a touch orientalist
in places--or whatever the New World equivalent of "orientalist"
is), and not developed enough to be of much interest. I don't want
to overstate the case; it's not like this stuff actually takes up
much space in the novel. But whenever it cropped up, I was eager for
it to be over. Is all.
Whatever, it's all good, I liked it, it
wasn't quite something I would've read under ordinary circumstances,
but ya know, sometimes it's good to be pushed out of one's comfort
zone. I give this a reasonable number of stars out of an only
somewhat larger number of stars.