Margins of Philosophy - Book Report/Review Example

In his seminal book, Margins of Philosophy, western philosopher, Jacques Derrida defines the concept of differance as follows: “Differance may say todesignate a constitutive, productive, and originary causality, the process of scission and division which would produce or constitute different things or differences”(9). In essence, all things are set up in relation to one another, in which one defines the other. Without this definition, the one and the other cannot exist because there would be no definition to conceptualize either object. Therefore, in order to comprehend our world, all things are put into variations of two groups, or binaries that are laden with value. In order to understand light, we compare it to darkness; in order to understand man, we come compare it to woman; and in order to understand reason, we compare it nature. However, these binaries are not equal, in that one side of the binary is posited as good, rational, civilized, and empowered, and the other side of the binary is posited as bad, irrational, uncivilized, and subordinate. This process of dividing everything into categories of good and bad is important when attempting to understand the dynamics of power in social relationships, especially ones that are characterized by race, class, and gender. The codification of binaries has acted as a catalyst for the process of othering, which explains how certain groups remain in possession of power while other groups are continuous enslaved by social, political, and educational institutions that benefit from their oppression. Lena Dominelli defines othering as following: Thus, racism is about relations of dominance and subordination which are rooted in the ‘othering’of others as a social process of exclusion in which particular personal attributes are identified as the basis for a racialised ‘othering’ to occur. These characteristics are aspects of an individual’s or group’s identity which are castigated as ‘inferior’ by a dominant group which has the power to enforce its definitions of reality on others. They may be based on biological features such as skin color and hair type, cultural practices, linguistic abilities, or religious observances which are adversely valued socially and weighted against the interests of the subordinated group. (39). This assumption of the superiority of one race to dominate, manipulate, and abuse other groups who are perceived as inferior has colored much of American history (Lorde, 115). However, regardless of how hard the other tries to elevate itself from its subordinated position, the avenues for subversion and redefinition permitted to the other are all tools created by the one which prevent the other from truly effecting real change on their own terms. Ernesto Quinonez is one such other who realizes that “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house” (Lorde, 110). In his book, Bodega Dreams, Quinonez addresses the detrimental consequences of othering on the Puerto Rican community, and on the larger Latino community, in Spanish Harlem; however, as the story concludes, he gives the Latino community a culturally specific tool, rooted in the Latino experience, that will serve as a way to dismantle the master’s house. To Quinonez, Spanglish represents that tool. Ernesto Quinonez is the son of a Puerto Rican mother and an Ecuadorian father who originally lived in Ecuador, but moved to New York when Ernesto was only 18 months old. As a result of his mixed ethnic heritage, Quinonez is defined as a Latino hybrid, “that of Latinos in urban environments who intermarry and interact to create an even more complex culture” (qtd. in Kevane 131). He grew up in East Harlem, also termed Spanish Harlem, Spaho, or El Barrio, where he attended public school. Although he left the neighborhood to study writing at City College in New York, he could not ignore the realities of struggle and survival that characterize Spanish Harlem; he could not abandon his people. Critics argue that writing Bodega Dreams was a cathartic process for Quinonez, especially when considering that his story is simultaneously fictitious and autobiographical. Willie Bodega and Julio “Chino” are fragmented parts of Quinonez, deemed his alter egos (Press, et. al., Web). Drawing inspiration from other “Nuyorican”1 writers, including Petro Pietri, Miguel Alagrin, and Miguel Pinero, Quinonez chooses the pen as his weapon of choice to attack the “economic and social forces, [including] racism, poverty, and violence,…which have taken a toll on [Puerto Ricans] and have stereotyped them as the bottom dwellers of the Latino immigrant hierarchy” (Kevane 131). However, the central purpose of the novel is not to tell the Latino community what is already knows, that it is in a disadvantaged position; Quinonez sets out to incite the passions of the Latino community, specifically the Puerto Rican youths in El Barrio, to create a collective, cohesive, and clear voice that demands socio-political change on its own terms. The story takes place in Spanish Harlem, some time during the 1990s, several decades after the Civil Rights movement has ended and social apathy has set in. The emphasis on apathy is key to the evolution of the characters and to Quinonez’s intention to “galvanize Latino readers into action” (Kevane 131). The protagonist of the novel, Chino, is a young man who has dreams of getting out of Harlem. Unlike his friend Sapo who sees no life outside of the ghetto, Chino “wants nothing more than to leave everything behind, to shed his past, and to create a new self” (Kevane 134). Part I, entitled “Because Men Who Built this Country were Men from the Streets,” traces Chino’s life from childhood to his escape from El Barrio with his pregnant wife, Blanca, after they are accepted at Hunter College. This first part of the book is essential for setting up the realities of El Barrio, in which sexual and physical violence, poverty, and hopeless dreams are the only constants; Chino says, matter-of-factly, that “fires, junkies, dying, shootouts, holdups, and babies falling out of windows were things you took as part of life” (Quinonez 5). However, Chino’s understanding of his community changes as he becomes inextricably linked to Willie Bodega, the villainous hero or the heroic villain. As a prominent ex-member in the Young Lords, a Puerto Rican Nationalist Movement active in New York City in the 1960s and 70s, Willie Bodega is no stranger the political activism; however, as an individual who resides within the margin of society, Bodega is beyond the naivety that says legitimate change can happen through legitimate means. As a result, Bodega uses drug money to pay for the transformation of El Barrio, in an attempt to empower the residents. Although his actions force Chino, and the reader, to reconceptualize the binary of right and wrong, his main purpose in the community goes beyong the purchasing of buildings with dirty money. With his historical knowledge and connection to his Puerto Rican heritage, Chino soon realizes that “Bodega was a lost relic from a time when all things seemed possible. When young people cared about social change” (Quinonez 30). The second part of the novel, which discusses a murderous love-triangle between Bodega, Vera, and Nazario, uses Bodega’s life and death as a lens through which self-hatred can be critically assessed. Through the process of systemic racism, the other is consistently devalued, which instills self-hatred. This process entails degrading the other’s language, culture, intelligence, and humanity, until it has been internalized. As the atmosphere of El Barrio demonstrates, self-hatred is exemplified through the day-to-day violence of living in the neighborhood, in which each resident becomes the victim and perpetrator of this violence. Instead of fighting against the real perpetrators, including politicians, lawyers, police enforcement, and teachers, the residents fight against each other which, effectively, destroys the opportunity to create a collective Latino voice. Arguably, Part III is most important to Quinonez’s vision of creating a collective Latino consciousness. The shift from story to social commentary is highlighted by the attendees at Bodega’s funeral who encompass the literary, artistic, musical, and political Latino giants of past and present. Their presence serves to remind all readers of the contributions of the Latino community to the physical, intellectual, and artistic development of the great country known as the United States of America. Their presence demands a recognition that Puerto Ricans are not simply drug addicts and unwed teenage mothers and drunkards sitting on stoops. Finally, their presence draws the reader back to Chapter I, in which Chino questions why “Latino students are consistently taught more about Italy and Robert Frost than they are about their own cultural roots and heritage” (qtd. in Kevane 139). Quinonez seems to argue that, acknowledging one’s past validates one’s present identity and enables movement towards changing one’s future. Bodega’s death may be the manifestation of self-hatred; however, his funeral marks a redefinition in Latino identity – one that reflects cultural pride. Quinonez’s chapter layout adds to his social criticism. The three parts of the book each have a unique title that addresses a way in which the dominant society has oppressed the Puerto Ricans and the Latino community in El Barrio. “Because men who built this country were men from the streets,” “Because a single lawyer can steal more money than a hundred men with guns”, and “A new language is born” emphasizes how liberal capitalism, exclusive education policies, and the centering of English have served to further marginalize the other. In addition, entitling each chapter “Round 1”, “Round 2”, and so forth, with the final chapter labeled “Knock out” is meant to highlight the literal and systematic way in which the Latino community has been beaten down by visible and invisible racism (Kevane 134). However, the final “Knock out” leaves the reader with a sense of hopefulness; Quinonez is urging his Latino readership to draw on their collective strength to become warriors who deliver the final knock out through education, consciousness raising, and political activism. Quinonez, Bodega, and the funeral attendees will not accept being victimized any longer. The story raises an endless string of issues that not only affect the Puerto Rican community and the residents of Spanish Harlem, but also the greater Latino community, other ethnic communities, women, and gay, lesbian and transgendered communities, to name a few. The central theme is that of silence. Historically, marginalized peoples have been silenced through restrictive language measures (as seen most poignantly in the example of Indigenous peoples of the U.S. and Canada). In addition, ignoring the culture and contribution of ethnic groups serve to silence their claim of legitimate citizenship. Finally, this silencing results in stealing away a group’s identity, which effectively silences their ability to form a strong collective voice. Quinonez suggest that this silence can be alleviated by reclaiming one’s voice through the recognition of the value of one’s culture, history, and language, as seen in the introduction of Spanglish in Book Three. Education, music, art, literature, and poetry become symbols of salvation for all marginalized people. Quinonez’s description of Chino’s desperation to get out of El Barrio represents the two types of people who currently live in ghettos – those who stay forever, living in poverty and self-hatred, and those who “get out”, choosing to ignore their culture and abandon their people. However, creating a stronger sense of cultural pride in the Latino group will serve as a catalyst for building a sense of responsibility among those who “get out”, which Quinonez hopes will bring them back to the ghetto to become their own versions of Willie Bodega. The novel’s grim twist articulates that those who leave the community and forget about their people live as cultural orphans who are rejected by both societies. Vera’s abandonment of Spanish Harlem and her participation in the murder of Bodega are masterfully used as a cautionary tale for those who desert that which has made them. In the end, the reader is left with the sense that it far better to live as a proud Latino in the ghetto than an identity-less orphan in the suburbs. In conjunction with the central theme, the characters and plot serve to raise questions about the current state of Latinos in Spanish Harlem. The most important issue is that of apathy, in which Quinonez uses Bodega to symbolically scold young Latin-American citizens for becoming complacent in their current situations. In addition, the book looks at the role of hierarchy between and within ethnic groups. The reason why a collective Latino voice cannot be achieved is because of ethnic in-fighting caused by a stratification within the ethnic group, in which Columbians see themselves as better than Argentineans, who see themselves as better that Puerto Ricans, and so on. This hierarchy is yet another tool of the master to maintain the foundation of his house and, thus, it must be abolished (Lorde 110 – 113). Another issue plaguing the Latino community is the issue of violence – gang violence and domestic violence, which creates a level of fear that keeps people of the same community in constant suspicion of their teacher, their neighbor, and their family. The stereotypical characters of Sapo and Negra are opposed by Chino and Blanca who defy the images of brute machismo and battered women (Kevane 141), and Chino and Blanca’s baby serves as a symbol of hope for the future communities in Spanish Harlem – communities that are based around nurturing, supportive, and collaborative gender and cultural ideologies. Finally, the issue of property, or “turf”, is raised through Bodega’s plan. At present, initiatives to gentrify Spanish Harlem has resulted in the “rapid decline in federal and state housing assistance, which has greatly eroded the safety net for the urban poor in El Barrio” (Davila 28). Nazario’s reference to the yuppies moving in is a reality that is currently threatening the residents of Spanish Harlem who are viewed as disposable aliens residing within a potentially profitable neighborhood, regardless of their rightful places as American citizens (Dwyer, “Reimaging the Ethnic Enclave”). Federal and state policies are being created to purposely push low-income residents out of Spanish Harlem; “housing policies that foster privatization and market the area to the highest bidder; development subsidies that target the upward mobility and the ‘deserving middle classes’ throughout the city; and landlords who do not even advertise their rentals among the local population,” all contribute to the displacement of a community that has spent the last century earning their right to be there (Davila 57). These measures are being employed to further silence the fact that “Puerto Ricans are American citizens, and have been since 1917 and passage of the Jones Act, despite the fact that they have lived on the mainland for other a century and they have participated in every major war since World War II” (Kevane 139). Unfortunately, if these measures are successful, the displacement of the community will serve to effectively cut off the already meager amounts of financial, emotional, social, and political support that the residents provide each other. The gentrification of Spanish Harlem would push the inhabits of this neighborhood from the margins of society into the abyss, where the last vestiges of hope would be destroyed. In conclusion, Ernesto Quinonez asserts his identity, pride, and voice through the pages of his narrative. His call to arms has been well received by critics and readers alike; “young Latino readers embrace this novel and are proud of the fact that it celebrates the customs of their people – hanging out on stoops after dark, chatting, listening to salsa in the streets, and chismeando (gossiping)” (Kevane 133). In addition, the problems faced by his characters are issues grounded in current culture problems faced by the residents of the real Spanish Harlem. His book raises the questions, while imploring the reader to find the answers through action not apathy. Finally, Bodega Dreams is a testament to the contribution of Quinonez’s inner Willie Bodega, in which he has chosen a profession in teaching and writing as a way to break his silence while providing the future generations of Spanish Harlem the tools in which they will also be able to break their silence. The true value of Quinonez’s work will be realized when a reader of his work writes her/his own narrative and includes Quinonez as one of the literary giants in attendance at a pivotal stage in the protagonist’s life. However, in this future version, one must hope that Quinonez-as-character will attend a graduation and not a funeral. Works Cited Davila, Arlene. Barrio Dreams: Puerto Ricans, Latinos, and the Neoliberal City. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2004. 27-58. Questia. Web. 7 Dec. 2010. Derrida, Jacques. “Differance.” Margins of Philosophy. Trans. Alan Bass. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1982. 1-28. Print. Dominelli, Lena. “Chapter 3: Multiculturalism, anti-racism and social work in Europe.” Social Work and Minorities: European Perspectives. Eds. Charlotte Williams, Haluk Soydan, and Mark R.D. Johnson. London: Routledge, 1998. 36-57. Questia. Web. 8 Dec. 2010 Dwyer, June. "Reimagining the Ethnic Enclave: Gentrification, Rooted Cosmopolitanism, and Ernesto Quinonezs Changos Fire." MELUS 34.2 (2009): 125+. Questia. Web. 7 Dec. 2010. Kevane, Bridget. Latino Literature in America. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2003. 131-142. Questia. Web. 7 Dec. 2010. Lorde, Audre. Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde. By Lorde. Berkley, California: The Crossing Press Feminist Series, 1984. Print. Press, Joy, Albert Mobilio, Hugh Garvey, and Hillary Rosner. "Writers on the Verge." The Village Voice 13 Apr. 1999: 78+. Questia. Web. 7 Dec. 2010. Quinonez, Ernesto. Bodega Dreams. Knofp Doubleday Publishing, 2000. Read More