{"id":882,"date":"2024-10-28T02:55:26","date_gmt":"2024-10-28T02:55:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/?p=882"},"modified":"2024-10-28T02:56:20","modified_gmt":"2024-10-28T02:56:20","slug":"memory-impressions-of-reality-in-everyone-knows-you-go-home","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/?p=882","title":{"rendered":"Memory: Impressions of Reality in Everyone Knows You Go Home"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\u201cI believe in memory not as a place of arrival, but as a point of departure\u2014a catapult throwing you into present times, allowing you to imagine the future instead of accepting it.\u201d  
                                                                                                                - Eduardo Galeano, Memory of Fire<\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
Written works in the genres of autobiography, memoir, autobiographical narrative, and even historical narrations (like Eduardo Galeano\u2019s Memory of Fire<\/em>), often commence with an introductory clause that distinguishes the author\u2019s memory<\/em> from the reality<\/em> of the locations and events portrayed in the text. This distinction, while working to inform the readers on the extent to which they can trust the content of the text to be accurate and truthful, seems to imply that not only is memory different from reality, but that it is simply an interpretation of an arguably indeterminable \u2018truth.\u2019 Jaquira D\u00edaz, in her memoir, Ordinary Girls,<\/em> explains in the paritext of the book, \u201cThis is a work of nonfiction. But it is also a work of memory\u201d (D\u00edaz).1<\/a><\/sup> The implications of both sentences here are abruptly separated by the insertion of a weighty, \u201cBut,\u201d highlighting the paradox between them. The statement that her story is \u2018nonfiction\u2019 implies that it recounts real-life and truthful events. Yet the immediate caveat that follows seems to undermine both the author\u2019s and the reader\u2019s notion of what \u2018truth\u2019 actually is with respect to the retelling of such events. This observation is not a critique\u2014it is simply a means of accentuating the profound distinction, and vast separation that lies between memory and reality both in literature, and in the widely-recognized, collective human experience. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a review of Natalia Sylvester\u2019s Everyone Knows You Go Home<\/em>, ire\u2019ne lara silva observes that \u201cLife on the borderlands\u2014between Texas and Mexico, news reports and real life, history and memory, the living and the dead\u2014creates an immersive world for exploring the mysteries that we all are to each other\u201d (Sylvester, \u201cAdvance Praise\u201d). The point I wish to emphasize is silva\u2019s observation of \u201chistory and memory\u201d as a distinguishing feature of life along the border. Just as Texas and Mexico are separated by a divide; as news reports and real-life are separated by perceptions; and as life and death are separated by an unsearchable threshold; history and memory, too, are separated by a filter of personal experience. And memory, as Plato proposed, can be best described as merely an impression<\/em> of reality, history, and truth; which makes its assimilative mark on a metaphorical wax tablet of the soul and mind.2<\/a><\/sup> Impressions, as the name suggests, are not full, clear pictures of reality, but are merely likenesses of it, individually and diversely formed by passing through the predisposed filters of the human mind. In observing the whole of Sylvester\u2019s novel, this divide between history (reality) and memory is ostensibly a central theme of the text. By assessing the many manifestations of memory throughout the novel\u2014those made particularly evident by the text\u2019s frame, plot, and narrational point of view\u2014this observation becomes apparent. Although her book is admittedly a work of fiction<\/em>, it is also a work of realism in which the characters grapple with this natural, realistic divide from the very first chapter, to the end, and even beyond as the story insinuates. It appears that by distinguishing history from memory in this manner, Sylvester reveals that memory can be both deceiving and enlightening, capable of binding as well as redeeming; but ultimately, that it is a necessary adjunct in the discovery of truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Frame: Foreshadowing the Theme of Memory\u00a0<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
In the epigraph commencing her novel, Sylvester quotes from Eduardo Galeano\u2019s Days and Nights of Love and War<\/em>. It reads, \u201cMy memory will retain what is worthwhile. My memory knows more about me than I do; it doesn\u2019t lose what deserves to be saved\u201d (Days<\/em> 2-3). As epigraphs are employed a means of communicating textual themes, it is important to recognize the emphasis of this excerpt. As previously mentioned, the notion of memory plays a significant role in the story, and one of the major indications of the theme\u2019s centrality is this pre-narrative invocation of Galeano\u2019s work. In its original context, the excerpt is a response to a life of loss\u2014the speaker reveals he lost his partner, Graciela; lost his home as a result of the split-up; lost his belongings on a journey; lost his way of life, adopting what he terms a \u201cGypsy life\u201d (ibid. 2). After accepting his losses, deciding to leave them in the past, the speaker says, \u201cI set out for the unknown, clean and unburdened\u201d by what he calls, \u201cthings\u201d (ibid. 3). It is after this statement that Sylvester\u2019s epigraph excerpt appears\u2014\u201cMy memory will retain what is worthwhile\u201d\u2014indicating that memory (observably both his own memory of the past, as well as others\u2019 memory of him) is his most valuable commodity, the most important aspect of his life. Unlike the speaker\u2019s inability to keep his material possessions safe, memory keeps the most precious items of life in stores that cannot be robbed or lost. And due to the collective nature of memory\u2014the fact that it can be shared and informed by the diverse impressions of other people\u2014reveals why memory, in this case knows more about the speaker than the speaker knows about himself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Taking these observations and juxtaposing them to the story at hand, the speaker in Galeano\u2019s text can be easily compared to Omar in Sylvester\u2019s novel. Omar lost his wife, his family, his home, his reputation, his way of life, and ultimately ended up living a form of \u201cGypsy life,\u201d so to speak, in his various habitations of prison, desert, and ultimately, the afterlife. He explains that traveling through his metaphysical realm to the physical, \u201cseems to take an eternity while I\u2019m gone, and passes in a flash once I\u2019m here,\u201d as if he simply floats through a world of mere consciousness until arriving at a time and place he cannot control, only to return and continue the cyclical process (Sylvester 27). His life mirrors that of Galeano\u2019s speaker; and the message of Sylvester\u2019s epigraph, in this manner, serves to foreshadow the very aspect of the plot that will ultimately lead to Omar\u2019s redemption\u2014and to that of the entire family. As memory is apparently a very important, redemptive theme of the book, the memory of Omar, specifically, as the evocation of the epigraph suggests, is the key subject of that theme. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The novel is framed primarily by the epigraph and the content of chapter 1, along with the content of the final chapter, which all point directly to the memory of Omar. Proceeding from the epigraph into Chapter 1, Omar is the subject of the very first sentence of the book, supporting the notion that his character is crucial to the entire novel: \u201cThey were married on the Day of the Dead [\u2026] which no one gave much thought to in all the months of planning, until the bride\u2019s deceased father-in-law showed up in the car following the ceremony\u201d (Sylvester 1). While \u201cThey\u201d is the subject of the first clause, the second clause\u2019s subject naturally receives more emphasis and attention because it is the center of the \u2018shocking\u2019 nature of the statement. In this sentence, the memory<\/em> of Omar appears an equally prominent feature as the narrator explains, and further reveals throughout the chapter, that not only is Omar deceased\u2014a spirit manifesting on D\u00eda de los Muertos, the day designated to commemorate the dead\u2014but also that he has apparently been absent from the family\u2019s lives for many years, and thus, inhabits nothing more than tainted memories in their hearts and minds. Martin\u2019s elusive response to the presence of his father reveals the extent to which this is true in his own life: \u201cTypical. Only someone so shameless would show up to a wedding uninvited;\u201d and he resigns himself to his bitterness by answering his wife\u2019s request to be properly introduced with, \u201cI\u2019m not talking to him\u201d (2). In this moment, the narrator makes it very clear that the memory of Omar, from Martin\u2019s perspective, is neither pleasant nor respected. And the audience is likely to sympathize with Martin, trusting his memory, and envisioning the many atrocities that could have occurred to cause such a breach between father and son. Yet, just a few pages later, the narrator complicates this understanding by undermining the alleged accuracy of Martin\u2019s memory. When Isabel and Omar are alone later that evening, she prods him,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n
\u2018Why are you here, Omar?\u2019 [\u2026]
\u2018Elda wouldn\u2019t see me, so I came here.\u2019 [\u2026]
\u2018What about Martin?\u2019 Her patience was wearing thin.
\u2018I was surprised he saw me at all [\u2026] But then again it\u2019s his wedding day, and I\u2019m his father, even though\u2014\u2019
\u2018Even though you left when he was seven?\u2019
\u2018Ah. What else has he told you?\u2019
\u2018Enough to make it clear why he wouldn\u2019t want you here\u2019 (9-10).<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
After this exchange, Isabel desires \u201cto prove she knew his family more than he thought she did,\u201d and remembering an old story Martin shared with her about his childhood, asks; \u201cTell me about the time you played hide-and-seek, and he hid so well no one could find him for an hour\u201d (10). This is a pivotal moment in the chapter, as well as in the book as a whole, foreshadowing again what is yet to come. Omar tells her the story, but it is nothing like what Martin recalled and relayed to her. Martin remembered the event as a moment of family fun, as Isabel explains, \u201cIt\u2019s one of his first memories. He talks about it like it\u2019s an early triumph\u201d (11). But what Omar reveals is that the game of \u2018hide-and-seek\u2019 was merely a distraction and a method employed by Martin\u2019s parents to keep him safe and hidden during a treacherous time of emergency. What this portion of the narrative accomplishes, then, is placing doubt into the minds of the readers as they come to recognize that singular memory can be deceptive; that it is not, in itself, historically accurate and truthful. For Isabel, it required the combination of two different impressions recalling the same moment to recognize that there may be something larger at work. Completing the frame, the final chapter of the novel depicts the memory of Eduardo\u2014the nephew who knew and loved Omar very well\u2014and reveals the truth of the story, reflecting again the epigraph, and its message that memory, both personal and collective, \u201cretain[s] what is worthwhile\u201d and leads to redemption.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Plot and Narrational Point of View: A \u2018Collective Memory,\u2019 Indeed<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Numerous Latine scholars have acknowledged \u2018memory\u2019 as a vital aspect for the life and history of the Latine community. Arguing for the implementation of expressive, \u2018autohistoria\u2019-esque genres into academic writing pedagogies, Victor Villanueva lists over ten such scholars, commenting that \u201call have written about the connections between narratives by people of color and the need to reclaim a memory, memory of an identity in formation and constant reformation, the need to reclaim a memory of an identity as formed through the generations\u201d (Villanueva 12).3<\/a><\/sup> What Villanueva depicts in this segment is the notion of an expansive collective memory that, when brought together, has the power to reclaim history, transforming the present and the future. It is for this reason that Eduardo Galeano wrote his historical trilogy, Memory of Fire<\/em>\u2014as a means of \u201crescuing the kidnapped memory of all America\u201d (Memory<\/em> i).  And it is within the same vein that Carlos Manuel Salomon rationalizes, \u201clocal memory [\u2026] promotes cultural history\u201d (Salomon 350). According to Salomon, memory and other forms of quasi-fictionalized storytelling are, for the Latine community, \u201cessential tools of [\u2026] collective history. They are not tools indigenous to the Americas, nor are they exclusively Western; they are universal and significantly contribute to the telling of history\u201d (ibid. 350). As Salomon deems this collective memory a \u201cuniversal\u201d tool for uncovering history, by applying this principle on a micro-level specifically to Sylvester\u2019s novel, the collective memory between Omar and his family members, in the same manner, guides the characters and audience to a revelation of truth\u2014transforming their present and their futures. This is the framework for Sylvester\u2019s plot\u2014the gradual revelation of truth over time through the memories of the characters interacting with the \u2018memory\u2019 (or rather, historical accounts) of an omniscient, third-person narrator. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
More specifically, the plot centers on Isabel, pivoting around her life as it interacts with other characters and their memories of Omar. In this manner, she holds a unique position in the family as a \u2018keeper\u2019 of Omar\u2019s memory, since no one else wishes to maintain it, and especially because she yearns to understand the true history of her in-law family. On the anniversary of his first apparition, Omar appears again to Isabel, expressing, \u201cDo you know what keeps the dead from really dying, Isabel? It\u2019s just memory. Longing. Being held in the hearts of our loved ones\u201d (Sylvester 29). Because his family appears no longer to \u2018long\u2019 for him, nor \u2018hold him in their hearts,\u2019 he tells Isabel, \u201cI\u2019m starting to think the only thing bringing me here is you\u201d (30). Indeed, as the story unfolds, she attempts to uncover pieces of Omar\u2019s memory from each member of the family, to very little avail, and often resulting in silence or evasion from her unwilling \u2018interviewees.\u2019 Yet her attempts reveal the manner in which memory can inflict a form of bondage on its keepers if it is stifled and turned to bitterness. Martin refuses to share that hidden part of his life with his wife, causing unbearable tension between them; Elda cannot even hear the name \u2018Omar\u2019 without stopping and excusing herself; with Claudia, the subject proves so sensitive, Isabel thought she would lose their friendship.4<\/a><\/sup> And given the conclusion of the story\u2014that the memories offered by Omar and Eduardo, along with the intermittent excursions into the past with the omniscient narrator, create a picture of Omar that is very different than the family\u2019s original perceptions, an arguably innocent <\/em>one\u2014this reveals how deceptive memory can be as well, when isolated and incomplete. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thus, the role of the narrator is very significant as well. Omniscience and omnipresence are characteristics of a divine nature, which the narrator demonstrates by it\u2019s all-knowing point of view. The narrator jumps between the past and the present, revealing glimpses into historically accurate moments of the family\u2019s history, or rather memory, <\/em>that none of the characters necessarily know or perceive from their singular impressions of the past. This nature of omniscience and omnipresence\u2014the ability to traverse through time and space, memory and history\u2014is reflective of two prominent mythological deities who are directly associated with remembrance. In Greek mythology, Mnemosyne is the goddess of memory, mother of the nine Muses, and one of the original titans who served in the foundation of the world. She is distinguished among the deities by possessing the unique ability \u201cto know everything, past, present, and future,\u201d providing mankind with reason, remembrance, and insight into the time to come\u2014all facets of truth (Smith, \u201cMyths\u201d). In the underworld, drinking from the river Mnemosyne would enable spirits to remember all things, a gift equatable to everlasting life. Drinking from the antithetical river, Lethe (oblivion), would cause spirits to forget all things; and in ancient Greek culture, \u201cforgetting the true order and origin of things is often tantamount to death\u201d (ibid.). Thus, much like Omar\u2019s description of memory being the only thing that \u201ckeeps the dead from really dying,\u201d this ancient myth reveals a very similar understanding\u2014that with complete, informed memory, there is redemption and renewed life (Sylvester 29). In this manner, the narrator in Sylvester\u2019s novel possesses power equatable to that of Mnemosyne\u2014omniscience, omnipresence, and ability to reveal redemptive truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Likewise, in Aztec mythology, Tezcatlipoca is the \u201csupreme deity of the Late Postclassic Aztec pantheon,\u201d often recognized as the god of memory (among other traits) for his ability to \u201cmediate[s] materiality and invisibility with omniscience and omnipresence\u201d (Saunders 1, 2). His omnipresence allows him to cross \u201cspatial and mythical boundaries,\u201d and abide where he pleases, such as in life or the afterlife, the present or the past (ibid. 2). His omniscience is represented by his possession of an \u201cobsidian mirror,\u201d which is \u201ca metaphor for rulership and power [\u2026] with which he \u2018knows everything\u2019 and is able to see into the hearts of men\u201d (ibid. 2-3). Again, the all-knowing power of this \u2018god of memory,\u2019 like that of Mnemosyne, is equatable to the power and actions evident in the narrator of Sylvester\u2019s story, who crosses mythical and time-defying divides in order to reveal the true history of Omar and his family to the audience. In this manner, throughout the entirety of the book, the memories of Omar by himself and his family members\u2014those which Isabel gradually gleans from them over time\u2014are in constant communication with the memory (or historical accounts) of the narrator. They inform and contribute to one another, ultimately working to piece together a \u2018collective memory\u2019 from which the revelation of truth and redemption at the end of the story ensue. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The most powerful example of this communication appears during a pivotal moment of the book, between chapters twenty and twenty-one. Chapter twenty is one of the narrator\u2019s glimpses into the past, and it details the moment in which Elda kills a man in self-defense during her northward journey through the borderlands. An important picture it provides is that after the height of the traumatic moment, in the midst of the haze due to her shock and adrenaline rush, the narrator reveals, \u201c[Elda] felt Omar lift her away\u201d (Sylvester 121). This statement underscores the nature of Omar\u2019s character, which has been developing through the historical revelations thus far as a very honorable, loving one. Omar\u2019s presence, his ostensible desire to protect Elda, and remove her from all that terrifies and harms, is insight into the truth of what happened between them. The chapter ends with the statement, \u201cShe knew [\u2026] that she had killed the man,\u201d erasing any doubt as to what occurred in that instant, and giving the audience a side of the story they could never have imagined based on the singular memories of the other characters (121).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The story then transitions, in chapter twenty-one, to the present where Isabel again struggles with Martin in an attempt to uncover more truth about Omar\u2019s history. She feels his reluctance as a lack of trust and intimacy. And as a result of her prodding they have this crucial exchange: <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n
\u2018Is this how it\u2019s always going to be? Everything ends up back at him?\u2019
\u2018I don\u2019t know. I just\u2026that\u2019s the problem. We\u2019re supposed to know each other and share a life together, and there\u2019s this huge part of your life that I know nothing about.\u2019
\u2018Not huge. Seven years isn\u2019t huge.\u2019
\u2018You know that\u2019s not all it is.\u2019
\u2018You keep trying to make him mean more than he does.\u2019
\u2018And what? I have no right to ask? I\u2019m your wife. [\u2026] I don\u2019t keep any secrets from you. Everything that is me is yours.\u2019
[\u2026]
\u2018He didn\u2019t just leave, Isa. He went to prison for killing a guy<\/em>. He\u2019s no saint\u2019 (125, emphasis added).<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
Here, Martin reluctantly reveals to Isabel the core of his memory of Omar, around which all of his other thoughts and memories of this father revolve\u2014that he killed a man, that he is a murderer. Yet, because the preceding chapter details a historically accurate account, by the all-knowing narrational vision, of Elda<\/em> murdering a man (and of Omar acting as a force of rescue and relief, ostensibly seeking to bear her burden), this new revelation from Martin\u2019s memory communicates with the former chapter insinuating that Martin could have the story completely reversed. The insights from the chapters work together as the audience is then able to further piece together the truth from the collective memory that both accounts provide. This form of communication between the singular memory of the characters and the narrational memory permeates the novel. While it ultimately serves to create a collective memory through which the truth can be revealed, it also underscores the deception and bondage of stifled, incomplete, and bitter memory to which the characters are very clearly victim. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet just as memory can be deceiving and binding, as it is not in itself reality, but a mere impression of reality; it is moreover a force of enlightenment and redemption because \u201cThe stories, the places, and the traditions [of many impressions] all collude to spark collective memory\u201d which, as evidenced by Sylvester\u2019s story, is a necessary adjunct in the discovery of truth (Salomon 359). It is through this means that Martin is able to reconcile with his father by the end of the story, relying on the collective memory of others for his understanding of the truth:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n
\u2018Ever since Eduardo left, I\u2019ve been thinking about all the questions I never asked him. All the things I assumed would be too hard for him to talk about.\u2019 [\u2026]<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018I realized I never asked Eduardo about the good stuff, [\u2026] The memories he probably wanted to share. All I really know is that he loved my father. He says he was innocent. And he spent a lot more time with him than I ever did.\u2019 [\u2026]<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018My point is, I emailed him to ask about my father\u2019s altar. What he\u2019d put on it, it it was him. He said he and Omar used to play dominoes and eat oranges outside Sabrina\u2019s restaurant. That\u2019s how they spent their breaks\u2019 (308-309). <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
Thus, four years later, on the Day of the Dead, Martin commemorates his father with an altar of oranges and dominoes, honoring the memory he once resented. Omar and his family, redeemed and enlightened through collective memory and its ensuing truth\u2014the memory that knows more about life, reality, and history than any singular impression could, and which always, as in the case of Galeano\u2019s character, \u201cretain[s] what is worthwhile\u201d never losing \u201cwhat deserves to be saved\u201d (Days<\/em> 2-3).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
12 May 2020<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Endnotes:<\/p>\n\n\n
  1. See G\u00e9rard Genette\u2019s \u201cIntroduction to the Paratext\u201d cited at the end of this essay under \u201cReferences.\u201d Genette defines \u201cparitext\u201d as contextual material that appears within a written work before the actual body of the text, serving as informative and introductory aids for the central material.\u00a0 \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  2. See Plato\u2019s Theaetetus <\/em>(191a – 196c). \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  3. See Gloria Anzald\u00faa\u2019s definition of \u201cautohistoria\u201d in This Bridge We Call Home<\/em>, chapter titled, \u201cnow let us shift\u2026path of conocimiento\u2026inner work, public acts\u201d (p. 578). It is related to autobiography and memoir with fictionalized components\u2014can be employed as a means of uncovering, discovering the past, reclaiming history.\u00a0 \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  4. See pp. 18, 124-125 for Martin\u2019s refusals to share and the tension it creates; pp. 54-55 for Elda\u2019s reaction to Omar\u2019s name; and pp. 4 and 19 for Claudia\u2019s responses to the subject of Omar. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li><\/ol>\n\n\n
    Works Cited:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    D\u00edaz, Jaquira. Ordinary Girls<\/em>. Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, Chapel Hill, 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Galeano, Eduardo. Days and Nights of Love and War<\/em>. Monthly Review Press, New York, 2000.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Galeano, Eduardo. Memory of Fire. <\/em>Translated by Cedric Belfrage, Open Road, New York, 1982.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Salomon, Carlos Manuel. \u201cChapter 24: QUEEN OF LAS FIESTAS PATRIAS<\/em> AND OTHER STORIES: Oral History, Memory, and Latinx Culture.\u201d The Routledge History of Latin American Culture<\/em>, 1st Ed. Edited by Carlos Manuel Salomon, Routledge, New York, 2017.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Saunders, Nicholas J; Baquedano, Elizabeth. \u201cIntroduction: Symbolizing Tezcatlipoca.\u201d Tezcatlipoca: Trickster and Supreme Deity<\/em>. Edited by Elizabeth Baquedano, University Press of Colorado, 2015.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Smith, Jonathan Z; Buxton, Richard G.A., et al. \u201cMyths of Memory and Forgetting.\u201d Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica, Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica, inc<\/em>., January 03, 2017, https:\/\/www.britannica.com\/topic\/myth, Accessed 4 May 2020.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Sylvester, Natalia. Everyone Knows You Go Home<\/em>. Little A, New York, 2018.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Villanueva, Victor. \u201c\u2018Memoria\u2019 Is a Friend of Ours: On the Discourse of Color.\u201d College English<\/em>, Vol. 67, No. 1, Special Issue: Rhetorics from\/of Color (Sep., 2004), pp. 9-19.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    References:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Anzald\u00faa, Gloria E. \u201cnow let us shift\u2026the path of conocimiento\u2026inner work, public acts.\u201d This Bridge We Call Home<\/em>. Edited by Gloria E. Anzald\u00faa and Analouise Keating, pp. 540-578, Routledge, New York, 2002.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Genette, G\u00e9rard. \u201cIntroduction to the Paratext.\u201d Translated by Marie Maclean. New Literary History<\/em>, Vol. 22, No. 2, (Spring, 1991), pp. 261-272, The Johns Hopkins University Press, https:\/\/www.jstor.org\/stable\/469037.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
    Plato. Theaetetus. <\/em>Translated by Benjamin Jowett, Project Gutenberg EBook, 2008, http:\/\/www.gutenberg.org\/files\/1726\/1726-h\/1726-h.htm, Accessed 4 May 2020.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
    \u201cI believe in memory not as a place of arrival, but as a point of departure\u2014a catapult throwing you into present times, allowing you to imagine the future instead of accepting it.\u201d  – Eduardo Galeano, Memory of Fire Written works in the genres of autobiography, memoir, autobiographical narrative, and even historical narrations (like Eduardo Galeano\u2019s…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":"[{\"content\":\"See G\u00e9rard Genette\u2019s \u201cIntroduction to the Paratext\u201d cited at the end of this essay under \u201cReferences.\u201d Genette defines \u201cparitext\u201d as contextual material that appears within a written work before the actual body of the text, serving as informative and introductory aids for the central material.\u00a0\",\"id\":\"f7851325-d4ff-4f44-affb-dbe4376c0005\"},{\"content\":\"See Plato\u2019s Theaetetus <\/em>(191a - 196c).\",\"id\":\"c70b3654-8493-48da-a800-70f933fe539d\"},{\"content\":\"See Gloria Anzald\u00faa\u2019s definition of \u201cautohistoria\u201d in This Bridge We Call Home<\/em>, chapter titled, \u201cnow let us shift\u2026path of conocimiento\u2026inner work, public acts\u201d (p. 578). It is related to autobiography and memoir with fictionalized components\u2014can be employed as a means of uncovering, discovering the past, reclaiming history.\u00a0\",\"id\":\"d4235433-cb71-468d-8b63-f1e8d669b06f\"},{\"content\":\"See pp. 18, 124-125 for Martin\u2019s refusals to share and the tension it creates; pp. 54-55 for Elda\u2019s reaction to Omar\u2019s name; and pp. 4 and 19 for Claudia\u2019s responses to the subject of Omar.\",\"id\":\"0bbd7f08-f27d-46ba-97ab-8b3c02bfee6f\"}]"},"categories":[5],"tags":[955,961,957,954,953,947,962,949,820,966,951,964,958,946,943,944,963,785,948,950,959,945,93,952,276,960,965,967,956],"class_list":["post-882","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-critical-analyses","tag-autohistoria","tag-aztec","tag-carlos-manuel-salomon","tag-collective-memory","tag-days-and-nights-of-love-and-war","tag-eduardo-galeano","tag-elda","tag-everyone-knows-you-go-home","tag-gerard-genette","tag-gloria-anzaldua","tag-impression","tag-introduction-to-paratext","tag-isabel","tag-jaquira-diaz","tag-latine","tag-latinx","tag-martin","tag-memory","tag-memory-of-fire","tag-natalia-sylvester","tag-omar","tag-ordinary-girls","tag-plato","tag-realism","tag-reality","tag-tezcatlipoca","tag-theaetetus","tag-this-bridge-we-call-home","tag-victor-villanueva"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=882"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":902,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882\/revisions\/902"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=882"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=882"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bexroden.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=882"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}