The
House on Mango Street Response:
Category A, Prompt 4
Sandra Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street is a succinct
and poetic bildungsroman about a young Latina, named Esperanza, growing up in a
poor neighborhood of Chicago. At first glance, The House on Mango Street may appear to some as another one of
those “simple” coming-of-age texts (primarily concerned with “learning from new
experiences” and “exploring desires for escapement” from some sort of societal
structure) that young adults frequently read, but it is much more than that. The House on Mango Street is actually a thorough,
complicated, and powerful realistic-fictional novel about Latina identity and
how it affects adolescence. In fact, the presence of Latina identity can be
sensed throughout all of The House on
Mango Street, as Cisneros sets up her novel to explore this through her
main character Esperanza.
While there are numerous passages to
closely look into for the concern of Latina identity, the passage most evident
of this concern can be seen early on in the novel’s fourth chapter titled, “My
Name.” Esperanza opens the novel by explaining the duality of her name; she
explains its meaning in English (hope) and what it means to her in Spanish
(“too many letters”). Cisneros immediately establishes to readers here that
there is a conflict with having a Latina identity in the United States;
Cisneros suggests that there is a complicated duality that comes with being a
person of color. Esperanza’s attitude towards what it “means” in Spanish also calls
attention to a repression/dislike for her identity as a Latina, which is
something that many Latinas and Latinos living in the United States face
(especially during adolescence). This repression/dislike is, in part, caused by
the dominant (white) culture that exists in the United States (due to the fact
that it promotes negative attitudes towards things that are not English or
white), which Cisneros hints at as the chapter progresses; Cisneros has
Esperanza later say, “At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were
made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth” (Cisneros 11). This line added
by Cisneros is not only meant to both depict the issue of discrimination
towards Latinas/Latinos in the United States, but also towards the issue of
facing adolescence differently as a “marginal”; Esperanza faces humiliation for
having a Spanish name, which is something “non-marginals” would not have to
deal with. Cisneros then contrasts this by explaining how, in Spanish, her name
is “made out of a softer something, like silver” (Cisneros 11), hinting at a
sort of comfort/sanctuary Latina identity is, for her, from (white) societal
norms.
In the final paragraph in this chapter,
Esperanza says, “I would like to baptize myself under a new name, a name more
like the real me” (Cisneros 11), which ties back to the repression of Latina
identity aforementioned earlier. Because of her Spanish name, Esperanza cannot
identify with the dominant culture she is living in, nor can she fully identify
with her Latina identity because of the dominant culture. This is why Esperanza
explains how she wishes she could have a new name—one that could “properly” encompass
her identity as a Latina living in the United States.
This was a really interesting discussion about names and their connection with identity, especially within a community. I think another key instance of this in the novel is when she is explaining how her sister, who has the long Latina name Magdalena, can come home and be Nenny, which is much more Americanized. Esperanza explains that she is always Esperanza no matter what the context and how she envies her sister for being able to shed her Latina name occasionally. This, in conjunction to the points you have brought up, really gives insight to Esperanza's struggle with her cultural identity.
ReplyDeleteI think this is a really important theme that may be overlooked by readers. Considering it's major role in YA literature, many of the readers are Americans who cannot form a connection to the narrator in ways Latinx readers can. I think that her trouble with her name is something that is seen in a lot of Latinx adolescents. This effort to form a relationship with their roots and American culture is also repeated throughout the book. Forming an identity as a young adult is already a difficult task, and I think that Esperanza's struggle to form her identity is even more difficult due to her Latina identity.
ReplyDeleteHi Josie,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this blog post and the way you draw from the vignette about names to describe Esperanza's discomfort with her dual identity of being Mexican American. As we discussed in class on Tuesday, it seems as though her dislike of her Spanish name stems from the fact that she is not content with the female narrative she sees of waiting by the window that she sees a lot in her culture. She doesn't want to entirely escape her Mexican identity, but certainly what she sees as it's passive femininity. She would rather have a more powerful or less traditional Spanish name such as "Lisandra," "Maritza," or "Zeze the X."
Hi Josie,
ReplyDeleteYes, you succinctly analyze the theme of Latina identity and belonging as demonstrated by Esperanza's struggles with her name. The school scene in which they say her name as if it is made of tin and hurts the roof of their mouth also helps to create a picture of how school is not a welcoming place for her and the other children. I particularly like her use of the term "baptize" to describe renaming herself because there is a religious context for that, especially since she attends Catholic school and Catholics can choose a special confirmation name. Of course, they have to choose from existing names of saints so it would be another name that doesn't quite belong to her. It certainly wouldn't be like Zeze the X. I think if looking at the issue of naming and identity, the names that she lists as options at the end of that chapter are particularly significant then.