The House on Mango Street

I think that this book is amazing. First of all, it is written in a very, VERY interesting way, omitting quotation marks aside from direct quotes from books and poems, so all dialogue is implied. You have the "they said" stuff still, but what is conversation and what is not can sometimes become blurred, and I do love that aspect. It is also written in such a way that you could pick it up at ANY chapter and still pull something from whatever vignette you happen to land on. It is very, very enthralling in that sense.

spoilers from here on
also tw for discussion of sexual assault and sexual harassment

The book itself is about Esperanza Cordero, a young Latina girl growing up in Chicago on Mango Street. Her family moved around a lot prior to the book, but all of it takes place on Mango Street, showing her coming of age and also her coming home, her realizing, despite feeling out of place, that her family's house on Mango Street is her home of heart in a sense.

One day I will pack my bags of books and paper. One day I will say goodbye to Mango. I am too strong for her to keep me here forever. One day I will go away.
Friends and neighbors will say, What happened to that Esperanza? Where did she go with all those books and paper? Why did she march so far away?
They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot out.

One of the most prominent themes in this book is the struggle for independence, specifically from the view of the poorer women on Mango Street, who are not only held down by a simple lack of upward mobility but also the constraints that misogyny and the men in their lives put on them. So many of the women on Mango Street are STUCK in their households, trapped by their husbands or their fathers, left to do nothing but look out the window, if even that. It is a cycle that repeats itself on and on and on. One character, Sally, grows up with an abusive father, and finally manages to escape, but she escapes through marrying young, to a man who wants to hide her from the world.
At one point, a couple of boys take Sally's keys, not giving them back unless she kisses them both. Esperanza is revolted by this, and goes to tell the boys' mother, only for her to dismiss it as being futile, asking Esperanza "what do you want me to do, call the cops?" This kind of thing perpetuates itself throughout this community. Men are never held accountable, and women are taught to simply deal with that, to accept it.
One night, Sally and Esperanza go to the fair, and Sally leaves Esperanza and goes off with some guy, and it is then that Esperanza is sexually assaulted. Now this is not the first time this happens in the book, but it is the most vile (the first time being when a man forces a kiss upon Esperanza). It is just a fucking heartbreaking and difficult chapter, with Esperanza having a breakdown, blaming Sally, and saying that she, all the magazines, books, movies, and everything lied. You see a kind of betrayal of Esperanza by Sally, but you also see that Esperanza isn't really getting as upset at the men who assaulted her as she is with Sally. It's a difficult scene to read, difficult to think about. But it has a lot to say.
Prior, in the chapter "Beautiful and Cruel," Esperanza calls herself ugly, and then goes on to compare how she wants to be to the femme fatale character:

In the movies there is always one with red red lips who is beautiful and cruel. She is the one who drives the men crazy and laughs them all away. Her power is her own. She will not give it away.
I have begun my own quiet war. Simple. Sure. I am one who leaves the table like a man, without putting back the chair or picking up the plate.

Here, you see somewhat of an interesting thing. The femme fatale, a character often seen as morally ambiguous if not actively antagonistic, is depicted as someone who Esperanza can somewhat look up to, being one of the only examples of a truly independent woman that she has to look to. It is then just chapters later that she has any kind of independent ability like this taken away from her. It is tragic, and this cycle that she and others like Sally are stuck in is horrifying.

However, Esperanza still manages to find her way, to find out where she wants to go in life and to push towards that, and I think that's amazing. One of my favorite things in this book is the idea of the tree, something which Esperanza states is the only thing that understands her.

When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and to be.

The trees are a reminder, that despite everything, existence itself is just as important as anything else, and finding your way, being able to root yourself and hold yourself up, is a beautiful thing in its own right.

To finish off, I think this book is just wonderful. It has tremendous and hilarious highs, like when Esperanza and her friends Rachel and Lucy are arguing while her sister Nenny just lists off names, and the chapter ends on a perfect note:

Your mama's frijoles.
Your ugly mama's toes.
That's stupid.
Bebe, Blanca, Benny ...
Who's stupid?
Rachel, Lucy, Esperanza, and Nenny.

But then you also have the detrimental lows, some of which I described previously, others I have not mentioned. And between these two things, the highs and the lows, you have life.

Also sidenote: "Papa Who Wakes Up Tired in the Dark" is a chapter that made me cry because a lot of it applied wayyy too closely to me. Death sucks.

I'm not overwhelmingly a fan of using vignettes in this fashion; it's not something I prefer to read, even if it's easy to do so quickly. The majority of my criticism really hangs on the style more than the content.

There were parts where I wished there was more, that I felt there were other things to say, pieces to include; I found I liked the longer 'chapters' because they felt more complete and cohesive and that the only times I liked the shorter ones were when they fell between two longer pieces and connected them in a fashion, even if they were also their own stories.

It was hard for me to start this, even if it was a short book; it felt like it went to too many places and then nowhere in particular for a few pages, and I wasn't sure when it would go somewhere. I think, for all the hype that I've heard and all the teachers who have openly praised it to me, I expected a lot more from it.

I struggled. Part of it was the structure: Cisneros is fond of that short-story gimmick where you start a story (or chapter) by throwing the reader off the deep end, making them have to figure out what's going on, usually by having them read 3-4 paragraphs then go back to the beginning. I dig that, but when each chapter is just a few pages long and I have to do that over and over again it gets tiring. The cognitive load is too much.

The other thing: although written from the perspective of a young girl, it doesn't feel like the words or thoughts of one. It feels like an adult reframing memories from a distant perspective. The observations feel like adult ones; and the only way I can describe it is by contrasting against [b:The Bluest Eye|292327|The Bluest Eye|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1492591342l/292327.SY75.jpg|1987778] -- which I know is unfair -- but there I constantly felt surprised by the alienness of the narration; how differently we see things as children.

Even so it was quite a lovely experience: poignant and engaging. Each story drew me in after the initial slog. I would've preferred a smoother flow, but hey, maybe there are people who really loved that. I may just not be her target audience.