[a] pages 1-15, the Introduction by Sonia SaldÃÂvar-Hull
[b] SaldÃÂvar-Hull provides an introduction to Anzaldúa’s book that summarizes the book and provides a context for it within Chicano/a and Borderlands writing. According to SaldÃÂvar-Hull, Anzaldúa is writing a new type of History, in which, “in this new genre, a moving personal narrative about her Grandmother’s dispossession occupies the same discursive space as a dry recitation of historical fact, while lyrics from a corrido about ‘the lost land’ butt up against a poetic rendition of an etnocentric anglo historian’s vision of U.S. domination over Mexico” (3). Anzaldúa’s work is to unmake man-made “rules” in the traditional culture of “Cultural Tyranny” that “works against women” (4-5). Anzaldúa accepts “all parts of her identity, even those that clash,” including her Indian heritage, her status as a woman and a lesbian, and her life as a Chicano on the U.S.-Mexico border. She “breaks down dualities that serve to imprison women,” viewing “alterity as power,” when she “declares herself both male and female” (5). An acceptance of all parts of oneself leads the New Mestiza to “migrate” between parts of herself: “between knowing herself…not knowing who or what she is…and the fear of no owning who she is…She is all of the above, a woman without an official history and the woman who constructs her own historical legacy” (7). Anzaldúa offers a book that defines this New Mestiza Consciousness, “a feminist consciousness, one that goes beyond filiation” (9): “as a mestiza I have no country…as a lesbian I have no race” (9, quoting Anzaldúa). SaldÃÂvar-Hull goes on to describe other border studies texts that have been written since Anzaldúa’s work, which “changed the way we talk about difference in seuxality, race/ethnicity, gender, and class in the U.S.” (15).
[c] I enjoyed reading this preview to the book, and I found a lot of very exciting or very moving. If the description of Anzaldúa’s book is signifier of the emotion and energy in the book (and I believe it will be), then I am in for a great read! I was surprised when Anzaldúa “declares herself both male and female” (5), but it makes sense to find power in alterity, and it also makes sense that if she is accepting all parts of herself, then she would accept the part of herself that has been written by the men who make the rules and define everything (and yet, of course, work against that hegemony). I like how Anzaldúa is writing a new History, disrupting all grand narratives, including the American narrative of Manifest Destiny that included invading and conquering half of Mexico, and the male Chicano utopian narrative of a great pre-Columbian Aztec past that ignores the subjugation of many peoples by the Aztecs. SaldÃÂvar-Hull’s descriptions of Anzaldúa’s poetry that will come later in the book was very moving, as it portrays Anzaldúa’s transgression of boundaries: her separation from other Chicanas because of her sexuality, her closeness to women because of the same sexuality, etc. This introduction has filled me with excitement to read more.
[d] I am wondering about this “independence for the mestizas bound within a male-dominated culture” (3) and how this relates to declaring oneself to be of both genders. What does this independence look like? How does one accept being written by dominant culture and yet write against that? How does one negotiate this boundary? I am curious about details of MalintzÃÂn, a woman of mythology, and the mythical homeland Aztlán, both of which are very new terms to me. Who is MalintzÃÂn, this mythical woman who seems to have been co-opted by the Spanish narrative of the fallen Eve? What was Aztlán before Anzaldúa reconceptualizes it, and how is her vision different than the original?
[e] Throughout this term we have discussed institutional power, and the introduction to Anzaldúa’s book is rife with examples of institutional power at play. The white grand narrative controls education, feeding Chicano/a children lies about the conquering of Mexico because white men control our educational system. Men have controlled discourse and have written laws and rules that others are forced to follow, and Anzaldúa tries to write/live against this institutional power. Anzaldúa notes how Chicanas are imprisoned within a Chicano society controlled by men, who are allowed to speak when women are not (8). Anzaldúa’s text also seems to be a location for discussing horizontal hostility, as she is rejected by many for being a lesbian. People are divided against each other, falling into believing what the dominant culture tells them about certain types of people. Not only are people divided against each other, but Anzaldúa must fight the fragmentation of herself as dominant culture tells her she should be divided against herself.
SaldÃÂvar-Hull, Sonia. Introduction to Borderlands: La Frontera. 2nd ed. by Gloria Anzaldúa. San Francisco: Aunt Lute, 1999.
From my understanding (and discussions in ethnic studies) MalintzÃÂn or Malinali, Malinalli, or most frequently, Malinche–was a woman who acted as translator for Cortez and became his lover/courtesan, seen as the betrayer of her people. So when Anzaldúa says “Not me sold out my people but they me” she speaks as “La Chingada,” the fucked one (44) and reclaims her right to speak. Malinche and another mythical figure, La Llorona or La Gritona are traced back to an even more ancient fertility goddess Coatlicue, but I don’t know much about her. Ana MarÃÂa Carbonell wrote an article about that connection–I did a paper on this Fall term.