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Univ. of Texas Press, paperback, 9780292752665 |
IPHIGENIA:
The diary of a young lady who wrote because she was bored Translated from the Spanish by Bertie Acker
Reviewed by Tad Deffler
Iphigenia was one of the first Latin American novels to depict Venezuelan upper class women early in the twentieth century, when they were expected to have no goal other than marriage and motherhood, to accede to their role as dutiful dependents of men, and to be bound by a strict social code. As expressed by Leal, the author's embodiment of Venezuelan mores:
...a woman's head was a more or less decorative object, completely empty inside, made to gladden the
eyes of men, and adorned with two ears whose only function should be receiving and collecting the orders
that men might dictate to them...
María Eugenia Alonso, writer of the "diary", was raised in affluence and independence in Europe by her father, who has died. Guardianship has passed to her Venezuelan grandmother, and her uncle has sent her 20,000 francs—about $15,000 (US) today—to cover clothes and travel. She spends this in a prodigal spree in Paris, transforming herself from a schoolgirl into a chic young lady, confident of making a splash in Venezuelan society. Upon arriving there, María is stunned to learn that the money was the last of her inheritance and that the plantation she thought was hers has been appropriated by her uncle. María finds herself dependent upon his charity and must live under the close supervision of her grandmother and maiden aunt, a theme of economic thralldom and control repeated as she learns that each woman in her new life suffers under it to some degree. The story begins as satire as María presents an outsider's perspective. She is somewhat silly, very vain, and quite naïve, yet she has a good eye for what she sees. She is determined to recapture the freedom of Paris, just as her relatives are determined to mold her into a proper Venezuelan lady, resulting in many funny and ironic moments. As years pass, however, the satire takes on tones of tragedy. Her free spirit gradually conforms to expectations about behavior and marriage. As the final section of the novel begins, María faces a choice between Gabriel, the socially unavailable man she loves, and Leal, who offers a life of respectability in exchange for utter submission. The social pressures placed on her give consequence to the book's title, drawing a parallel between two societies willing to sacrifice their daughters to further the social ends of their fathers. In the classic Greek tale, Agamemnon offers his daughter, Iphigenia, as a sacrifice rather than lose control because his men think he puts familial love before martial honor. So, too, is María expected to sacrifice herself in the name of a social order where men’s honor and authority are paramount. This story differs from its namesake in one significant way. Iphigenia is part of her culture: "To be a light to Hellas didst thou rear me, and so I say not No to death...I freely offer this body of mine for my country...." In contrast, María does not identify with hers: "...in order to save this ship of the world that, manned by I know not whom, races to sate hatreds I know not where, it is necessary for me, branded by centuries of servitude, to yield up my docile, enslaved body as a burnt offering." While Iphigenia is portrayed as heroic, María appears only pitiable. The book caused a sensation when it was published in 1924. In Europe it won prizes and sold out rapidly. The prominent Spanish literary circle known as the Generation of '98, especially Unamuno, praised it heavily. In Venezuela, however, the sensation was different. Society was outraged by a story seen to encourage young women to a life of immorality, and book publishers refused it. Although important as a pioneer feminine perspective—even, perhaps, a feminist one—it is not a perfect book. The author's style is smooth and rhythmic, but at times her loquacity transfers some of the subtitle's boredom to the reader. Bertie Acker, the translator, notes that de la Parra was concerned that the novel was too long and might require editing. Unfortunately, this was not done in this translation.
Despite this, I found the author's perspective worthwhile. She describes her other novel as having
"no Iphigenia scent" since it does not indulge in social criticism. I have to say, though, that the
social criticism is the best part of Iphigenia. Read more about Teresa de la Parra in this Wikipedia article. |