Constructs in Foe and Aura

When I first started reading it, Aura seemed straightforward enough. Sure, it’s a little bizarre to read a non-children’s book written in the second person, but hey, every author has his own style. I should have known.

            The elephant in the room of the literary oddities in the story is Aura herself. At first, she apparently cannot speak for herself; she is a silent character. Of course, it becomes apparent later that she is a construction of Senora Consuelo’s younger self, but even still, I think she draws a lot of parallels to Friday. The bond between Consuelo and her construction is very similar to the bond between Susan and Friday in that Susan projects herself on the manservant. Though she does not tell her own story, she makes up a story for Friday, and as such, their lives become intermingled to the point of no return. At the end of Aura, Felipe agrees to enter the world of Consuelo and her projection. At the end of Foe, the reader, and arguably Susan herself, are dragged into the world of Friday, the world of silence and paper constructs.

            Aura is ultimately a construct of Carlos Fuentes, and it is her silence, just like Friday’s, that drags the reader into the story world and leaves him guessing. Felipe ends up becoming the general, just as Friday ends up becoming the storyteller at the end of Foe. The two stories are not told from their perspectives, but Friday and Aura are the constructs that ultimately give them their meanings.

Duality.

I was first introduced the term “duality” in 11^th grade English as we read A Tale of Two Cities. Duality, as my teacher/ex-beauty queen/southern belle turned author/scholar described it, is the “two-ness of something.” The Miriam Webster folks call it the “quality or state of having two parts,” but I think that Miss Tennessee 1976 had it close enough. In A Tale of Two Cities, there are instances of mistaken identity and parallelism left and right, but is there strong evidence of true dualities? I’m not sure. The word “duality” came spring forth form memory however, when we read Foe. As Susan Barton and Susan Barton were first conversing, I couldn’t help but think “Oh my God. Duality. They’re part of each other. They’re two!” The connection between the two though was never exactly nailed down and examined; Coetzee did not give us the evidence to do so with confidence. So, I was left again with the sinking feeling that I would not find true duality exemplified in a novel.

 Then we read Aura. This novel doesn’t just exemplify duality, it embodies duality. The characters, the setting in place and time, and even the physical presentation of the novel have elements that are divided into two. Consuelo and Aura belong to the same soul. Felipe is made to share a past and a future with the General. The General and Consuelo cannot live without one another and are the entire purpose for the creation of Aura and the entrapment of Felipe. As for the setting, the old and new street numbers and building facades coexist. Both need to be present as the action of the book is not confined to time. It does not hold to one generation, and the duality of the setting allows the characters to exist independently of time without being displaced.

The most obvious and exciting (in my opinion) instances of duality in this novel are the publishing choices. The fact that the pages with supposedly the same meaning in different languages directly face each other is a very interesting format. The pages are presented together as if to say that neither holds the whole meaning of the text. Even the title and the art on the first few pages is mirrored. This motif of true duality is physically and literarily evident in Aura, and it was definitely worth all of my frustration to finally see it done right.

The Cycle

I think that Consuelo creates Aura, Consuelo’s younger version, to entice Felipe (perhaps an incarnation of General Llorente, initiated by witchcraft) because he is attracted to her youth and is disgusted by Consuelo’s old age. By the time the truth about the connection between himself and the two women is revealed, Felipe is mesmerized by Aura and therefore accepts his destiny to forever be lead back to Consuelo.  By saying “You love her, you too have come back…” (Fuentes 145) it implies that he either transformed into the General, regained memory of his previous life with Consuela, or it suggests that both are true.  The quote “…you’ll embrace her again when the clouds cover the moon, when you’re both hidden again, when the memory of youth, of youth re-embodied, rules the darkness” (Fuentes 145) suggests that their love overcomes their reluctance to grow old.  Perhaps it has nothing to do with being old, but with recreating – re-embodying – their seed of love, which has withered over time.

My interpretation of Vonnegut’s concept of “dynamic tension” presented in Cat’s Cradle can also be applied to Aura; dynamic tension is an eternal cycle of tension and collapse, where collapse plays the role of necessary relief in the tension before it bursts, and where perfect equilibrium cannot exist. In Aura, tension builds when Consuelo and Felipe (the General) are not together (in love). The release in this tension occurs when Felipe accepts his identity and they are reunited in the end. In the cycle of tension and collapse, Aura triggers the release of tension.  The cycle repeats itself when Aura, the embodiment of youth, disappears, which initiates the rebuilding of the tension. Consuelo and Felipe (the General) need youth to accept their union.

*Thank you Jon and Burke for reviewing my post.

Possession

Throughout the entire novel of Aura, I find myself drawn into the darkness of the house, only hearing a voice beckoning me deep inside, thirteen steps forward and twenty-two steps up.  This is because I was inhabiting the body of Felipe during the story, much like how he slowly started becoming like the General in the story. 

Normally, when one assumes the role of the character in a story, there's some suspension of disbelief at the parts that don't line up with yourself, but that's to be expected.  An interesting thing to note is that Felipe doesn't have many distinguishing characteristics.  All we know is that he's naturally curious and wants money.  Even his name is only thrown around a few times, I had to re-read the back section just to remember what it was.  Thus, it makes it very easy to 'be' him.  (On a side note: I wonder if there's this weird disconnect between the way the girls in the class read this book versus the way I just presented.  Was Felipe less part of your identity when reading?)  I feel like I normally feel this way with very strong, heavily narrated books with one specific narrator whose views I share.  This definitely makes the story more intimate if the line between you and the narrator is blurred. 

The next book we read, the "Choose Your Own Adventure" book, makes me even more excited to read, because it is even easier to assume the role of the narrator as you are the one making choices! (Well, predefined choices, but still, its a very personal experience.) 

The French For God Is Dieu

The original language of a text before translation very much affects its meaning. A clear example can be found within the works of Samuel Beckett, an Irish author who wrote many of his plays in French, his second language, which he explained as a way to achieve his to desire to write without style. While the first publishing of these works was in French, Beckett also retranslated these works to be published in English. Among the works Beckett wrote in French before translating to English was his play, Waiting For Godot. Within Waiting For Godot, two men, Vladamir (Didi) and Estragon (Gogo), wait for over a day to be met by the titular character, Godot, conversing while they wait (this feels like a really simplistic explanation; I’m really sorry… google it- it’s among my favorite plays, if not my very favorite). Still, through two acts of this waiting, Godot never shows. Even so, Didi and Gogo never stop waiting. The play ends with them suspended in this action, the final words of the play being a stage direction, “They do not move”*. A common interpretation of the play is that Godot is a symbol for God. Among the most common reasons to support this claim lie in the Godot’s name itself. Becket rejected this interpretation, going as far as to say at one point that he regretted calling the character Godot because of the association. At one point Beckett pointed out that the association between God and Godot due to the name is only an english one, saying, “It would be fatuous of me to pretend that I am not aware of the meanings attached to the word 'Godot', and the opinion of many that it means 'God'. But you must remember – I wrote the play in French”**. The french word for God is Dieu; it’s not similar to Godot.

There is no such thing as a “perfect translation’; a work’s meaning is very much affected by its translation. Even if not affected by the interpretation of the translator, a work’s meaning or interpretation can be affected by the language in which its written. Waiting For Godot is a good example of this; even when translated by its author, in taking on a new language with different forms and constraints, it takes on a transformed (or at least affected) meaning.

While not very different from the original text, this translation of Aura is different enough. It’s not without omission, for example, on the 4/5th page as it describes the wait for the bus, the Spanish says, ‘You wait for the bus, light a cigarette, and silently repeat the dates that you have to memorize so those drowsy children will respect you,’ while the English says, “As you wait for the bus, you run over the dates you must have on the tip of your tongue so that your sleepy students will respect you." Beyond these tiny omissions are other small changes, in the Spanish version of the ad the offer is 3,000 pesos, not 4,000. The translation of the opening line is technically ‘You’re reading that advertisement’ not “You’re reading the advertisement” (3). All in all, these changes are minor. It's not likely that they really affect the interpretation of aura. Still, larger changes do exist. At various points the Spanish uses the future tense, while the english translation stays in the present. For example, on page 110/111 the English says “You murmur her name” while the Spanish, if more directly translated, says ‘You will again murmur her name’. The entire closing paragraph on page 112/113 is written in the Spanish future tense, but in the english present; the direct translation of the spanish says,

‘The two of them will rise at the same time, Consuelo from the chair, Aura from the floor. They will both turn their back on you, they will walk pausingly to the door that leads to the widow’s bedroom, together they will enter the room where the lights tremble in front of the images, they will close the door behind them, they will leave you to sleep in Aura’s bed.’

while the English reads,

“The two of them get up at the same moment, Consuelo from the chair, Aura from the floor. Turning their backs on you, they will walk slowly toward the door that leads to the widow’s bedroom, enter that room where the lights are forever trembling in front of the images, close the door behind them, and leave you to sleep in Aura’s bed.”

These changes are not mistakes, but decisions made by the translator and, while some of them are small, I would argue that the decisions made do affect interpretation. I would argue that this is particularly true of the changes in tense. In a book where the passage of time in so important, can the use of the future tense really be seen as without impact? I would say that the use of the future tense deepens the sense of possession, especially when applied to Felipe’s actions and furthers the sense of the continuity and cyclical-ness within the text. Although these conclusions are still drawn from the translated text, the translation does affect the interpretation, or at least the depth of the effect.

*I don’t have my copy with me, but I have this line memorized.This stage direction closes both acts, also making it the closing direction of the play.

**I’m pulling this from the wikipedia, so you can find it there (aka here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_for_Godot)

Manipulated From The Beginning

The epigraph that introduces Aura made me think of both Foe and feminism, and also started off my readings with a few assumptions that turned out to be a little skewed. "Mother of fantasy…wings that enable her to fly to the infinite of desire and the imagination" made me think of mother-born, which I guess made me think this would be a story about a strong woman, one who knows how to write her own story and is aware of her power, unlike Susan Barton in Foe. The quote talks about how "man hunts and struggles" while "woman intrigues and dreams" and so from that I inferred that the story might focus on female power rather than male, and present a nice feminist perspective. I was so wrong, and that's why it's dangerous to make assumptions before you even start reading.

But then what is the purpose of an epigraph? The author doesn't have to pick one, nor does he just randomly throw in an unrelated quote. I feel as though in this course, most of the texts we've read have had epigraphs and they all serve to manipulate the reader before you've even begun absorbing the actual novel. The Things They Carried's epigraph works to keep up that image that it's a memoir and not a novel; Cat's Cradle states "Nothing in this book is true"; and now Aura gives a statement about the differences in power and ability of men and women.

After reading Aura all the way through, I think of it in context with its epigraph. The women in this novel are weak--Consuelo is 109, withering away, while Aura is some kind of disappearing emanation; yet they also exhibit a dangerous, supernatural kind of power. They control Felipe, at first with the promise of money, then through his lust for Aura. They destroy his will to leave, bringing him under a kind of spell, so that by the end, when he finds himself in bed with Consuelo, he stays, waiting for Aura to reappear. But this is not the female strength I thought I'd find after reading the epigraph. This is skewed, flawed, not something to be admired. Yet I have to admit, there is a mother-born story and a female character fully aware of her own power. Consuelo and Aura are both mothers of fantasy, creating a beautiful green-eyed girl from the willpower of an old man. "Tu es si fiere de ta beaute; que ne ferais-tu pas pour rester toujours jeune?" roughly translated, this phrase that ends chapter 3 means "you are proud of your beauty; what wouldn't you do to always keep it?" Beauty is a kind of power, a uniquely female one that existed even before women had real power in this world, and Consuelo/Aura translate it into control - of themselves, of Felipe, of where the story goes, though they do not narrate it. But since their power seems to only exist within that dark house, it is real? Are they powerless but unaware of it, a twist on the way Susan Barton holds all the power but never realizes it?

Aura and The Landlady

As we were discussing Aura in class yesterday, I couldn't help but think of a short story that we had read in my 7th grade Humanities class with a fairly similar premise (albeit without the magical realism or impressive craft that we see in Aura). The story is "The Landlady" by Roald Dahl (full text here, it's a quick read: http://www.nexuslearning.net/books/holt-eol2/collection%203/landlady.htm) about a 17 year old man who, while walking down a street on an out-of-town business trip, is drawn into a pretty creepy Bed and Breakfast run by a similarly creepy old landlady. The landlady has had only two other patrons in the past three years because she gives rooms only to specific men (the pattern being young and handsome)--and just like in Aura, the men are pulled into the inn by an eerie out-of-their-control kind of magnetic force. The short story ends (spoiler alert!) by implying that the old lady, who also happens to be a taxidermist, is going to preserve her guest's youthful body by killing and stuffing him.

While the comparison may seem a little contrived, I think that both stories indulge in a certain spooky aura and operate around the same principle of lonely old women seeking comfort in younger faces. In "The Landlady," the old woman waits for a man to pass by who fits exactly the profile she's looking for--"tall, young, and handsome" and then lures them into her home and stuffs them in the name of preservation, forever-young and forever-hers (Dahl). In a similarly spooky manner, Consuelo sends out a very specific advertisement to entice a man into her home where she then ropes him into her own twisted quest for youth and love. My personal interpretation of the novel is that Consuelo used Felipe, or any other of her past/future victims (a multitude implied by the fact that the "you" in the novel is infinite since the book can be read by infinite people thereby allowing the "you" to be fulfilled by any number of people), to act as a surrogate for the love she had so many years ago with her husband and then, ultimately, to supply a life force that will re-generate the youthful Aura once she has disappeared. I came to this conclusion mostly due to the last page of the novel where Consuelo tells Felipe "'we'll bring [Aura] back together. Let me recover my strength and I'll bring her back" (Fuentes). At first Consuelo says "we'll" bring her back, but then changes this to "I'll," a subtle modification that makes me think that what Consuelo really intends to do is to use Felipe as part of her magical process so that she alone can bring Aura back. This works on another level because Felipe is actually "you"--he represents the audience, and as the audience is reading the text they are simultaneously reading life into Aura. Just as the landlady in Roald Dahl's short story lures, preserves, and repeats, Consuelo lures, manipulates, and sucks-the-life-out-of her guests.

Why a Black Cat?

         Black cats have many stereotypes and people throughout history have different feelings towards them.  In early Egyptian times black cats were idled and held at a very high prestige.  It was a very serious crime to kill a black cat during that time period.  When one died families would mourn the death of their pet and mummify them when buried.  However, black cats received a negative stereotype in Europe when witches started doing magic and spells and whatever witches do.  People believed that witches would transform into black cats, so they could roam without being detected.  This put a negative image on black cats and made people think they were bad luck. 

        I now have the question to why is there a black cat on the cover of the book.  All of the background on black cats does not seem to relate to the text in any strong way.  Cats were also not referenced that much in the book.  There was the part that mentioned that Consuelo would torture cats.  The only connection I can make goes off of the European stereotype of black cats being supernatural figures.  Since an aura is not really real, the black cat could symbolize an aura.  An aura cannot be seen just like a witch cannot be seen when it is a black cat.   I am not saying Consuelo is a witch, but she seems to represent a witch taking a different form.  Consuelo uses Aura to see the world just like a witch would use a cat to see the world.  Consuelo is unable to go out on her own and a witch cannot go out as themselves because they will be killed.  

Consuelo Wishes Me Happy Birthday

            Today is my birthday. Like anything, a birthday matters as much as you believe it does. In this case, I am not much of a believer. Maybe I stigmatized birthdays around sixth grade when I had the shitty, but presumably inevitable, epiphany that I am going to die? Why celebrate the increments on my march to the abyss? Eventually, I triumphed over middle school. I cultivated the opinion that every birthday is a choice between celebrating life and dreading death; and I strove to commit to the former.

            I was asked yesterday which birthday was my favorite. Eager to dance through my memory bank, I looked in, but was surprised to find no record of past November sixths. Perhaps my mixed perceptions of birthdays created an ambivalence onto which no memories could latch? Whatever the cause, I found myself lacking history in a prominent life category. I, putatively the best scholar of my life, realized how little I knew of my story. I pondered: “Any story I tell about myself must be unfounded.”

            I believe that people can control their emotions by creating an understanding of their given situation which fulfills their needs. I convince myself of stories of who I am in order to be happy. However, as stated before, the veracity of these stories must be dubious. Essentially, I benefit from creating an altered image of myself. Therein, I found a connection between myself and Consuelo, and through such, an understanding.

            Consuelo does not change her identity by manifesting the altered image of herself that is Aura. She merely improves her emotional state by pumping vitality into a “story” of herself that fulfills her needs. Primarily, Consuelo needs to be loved by the general, so she conjures and deploys youth and allure in order to attract Fillipe. As Aura is not Consuelo, who I say I am is not me, yet these stories do not require accuracy to be powerful.

Aura is an aura

An aura is defined as an invisible radiation that surrounds all living things.  It is more commonly referred to as an invisible field that is around people and shows a person’s power or holiness.  Aura, the character, seems to be Consuelo’s aura.  While this may seem obvious it just clicked for me and now looking back at a lot of the text there are a lot of overlaps that represent this idea.  One of the largest one is the mimicking of motions.  Aura and Consuelo move in the same manner, which was shown while they ate and while Aura skinned the goat.  Also, whenever Aura’s lips move, Consuelo’s move as well.  Another connection I made was found in General Llorente’s writings.  Felipe was going through them and noticed that Consuelo fantasized about having children.  She had an obsession with the youth.  In a way Aura is projecting the youth that Consuelo loves and wants.  Personally, I think it is a stretch to say that Aura is representing a child, because I do not think it makes sense that an aura would be taking the form of a child.  Consuelo’s aura transforms throughout the novel.  As Aura gets older she is becoming more and more like Consuelo.  Aura drains a lot of energy out of Consuelo because she is projecting youth, which Consuelo no longer has.  Eventually Aura retains its form by going back into or becoming Consuelo.

Time flies when you are transforming into another person...

"A life, a century, fifty years: you can't image those lying measurements any longer, you can't hold that bodiless dust within your hands" (Fuentes, 139). In was in this sentence that I let go of trying to figure out how Aura could be possible by putting the plot in terms of our real world and just let it be.
I consider myself a very practical and logical person. I like to make sense of what I see and this often conflicts when reading literature, particularly in this class. Even when picking up a work of fiction, my mind tries to make sense of what is going on and give time change/character morphs etc. a practical explanation. In reality, this is impossible and just a frustrating process that creates more confusion. It was finally when I read the quote above, and that I could make sense of it in my own practical terms that gave me the ability to release the binds of trying to justify every bizarre occurrence.

As we talked about in class,  time is not linear. It is clearly not linear in Aura, but if you think about it, it's not even linear in own lives. Yes, we can have a stop watch and a calendar, but what about when seconds feel like hours or days feel like years or when we lose track of time or wait for time to pass. Time is like silence, we can't truly hold "bodiless" silence or time, but we can experience them and create truth from them or use them as a form. Just as silence was used as a construct in Foe, I would argue time is similarly used as well. What that fully means, I'm not sure...but I'm accepting the fact that I can't fully rationalize it.

Shades of Green

When I first began reading Aura I was immediately struck by the bright green eyes on the front cover of the novel, and before even reading one word of the text I was thinking about their almost haunting quality. To me, when I think of the color green, I think of envy and poison, and an almost crippling feeling. So, it really caught me off guard when in class it became clear that many people associated the color green with life and creation. Is it possible that the author chose green for this exact purpose? The color is not only associated with creation but also with destruction.

I don’t think that it is a coincidence that the one character that is constantly associated with the color green is Aura: the person who we are never really sure the authenticity of. We are continuously brought back to her “sea green” (Fuentes 27) eyes, and the “green taffeta she always wears” (Fuentes 121), but why? What is the author trying to convey with this repetition? I think that Aura’s connection to the color green is meant to lead the reader to her mystery. We are to assume that she is somehow a creation of who Consuelo used to be: a rebirth of her youth. In this case, the green signifies life, and growth. However, according to Consuelo, she has “never been able to keep [Aura] with [her] for more than three days” (Fuentes 143), signifying that with her life and creation, there is always some form of death and destruction. Aura is not real, so she can never truly last in this place that she doesn’t belong. This to me shows the almost poisonous aspect of the life that runs through her. She is never truly alive, and she is only ever created so that she will be destroyed again. The green color associated with her indicates the poisonous nature of life: the fact that it is fleeting. The author lets these two conflicting sides of Aura shape her mystery and the way the reader interprets the story.

The Bodiless Dust

My concluding thought on the Vonnegut/O’Brien paper was that stories are timeless.  The point of the stories is not when they were written, or the time period about which they were written. The narrative voices, content, feelings, and ideas, provoked become “present” in any moment they are read--and continue to be present in the readers’ minds.

We (readers) think of life as linear—we are born, we grow up, grow old, then die.  Depending on personal beliefs, life can take a cyclical form.  For example, some believe the soul never dies, that it can be reincarnated in another form.  But this still relies on the idea that time is linear, that there is no going back, only forward.  There is change (say, reincarnated as a gecho), but no starting over.

Fuentes takes the “timelessness of stories” to a new level—he blatantly disregards its conventionally defined linearity.  Using magical realism, he creates a world in which time was “invented to disguise the real passage of time, which races with a mortal and insolent swiftness no clock could ever measure” (Fuentes 139).  In the world of Aura, two versions of one person who had to have lived in different times can coexist in the same moment.  In the world of Aura, the same man can be “created” again and again. The story is timeless in the sense that time is manipulated to the point of insignificance.

Vonnegut and O’Brien manipulated time by collapsing their voices into the voices of their narrators to make their stories present.  In Aura, through use of the second person, Fuentes collapses the narrator’s voice with the readers’ to make the story seem present.  By making readers feel like part of the text, Fuentes draws them into the cycle of time he creates, making it harder to find a “point to return to” (as described in Foe) as an anchor.

             I think time can have seemingly different lengths depending on perspective.  Of course, there are always exactly sixty seconds in a minute.  However, time can go by at different speeds, which is a very interesting phenomenon.  As Fuentes put it, “you can’t hold [time]”, it is a “bodiless dust within your hands” (Fuentes 139).  Time is intangible and subjective, which makes it so hard to quantify.

Paralell Frustration

It took me a while to get a grasp on Aura, both the character and the novel as a whole. Finally, towards the end of class yesterday, I felt as though I was starting to understand Aura as a projection of Señora Consuelo. When Señora Consuelo feels herself fading away into old age, she uses Aura as somewhat of a sacrifice to bring back her energy and youth. Aura can do the things that Consuelo can no longer accomplish; even something as simple as skinning an animal. When Consuelo makes the motions of "beheading a kid," (91) Aura actually completes this task. However, the most important task that Aura can accomplish for Consuelo is the act of bringing her husband back to her. The two (one?) of them accomplish this by sending out an advertisement, bringing someone to them who posesses the exact same qualities as Felipe Montero, and transforming him in Consuelo's late husband, General Llorente, by having him read the general's memoirs and manuscripts. This is where my frustration set in. I saw the clear parallel between Aura and Consuelo, as well as the somewhat forced parallel between Felipe and the general. Then, we see Aura drawing Felipe in, and bringing him closer to her (which also means bringing him closer to Consuelo). I wanted to see a clear parallel between the two pairs, but the last scene ruins any hope of this. In the last scene, we are left with Felipe and Consuelo in bed together. Aura has become Consuelo once again, as her projection can only stay for 3 days. Why doesn't this scene end with Consuelo and the general in bed together? This would give us a clean parallel between the two pairs, and make sense of the point of the advertisement in the first place. It would give the novel purpose. Instead, we are left with an open-ended question of when Aura will return, and how Consuelo will be able to create another general for herself. Obviously, there is some element of magic in this novel. If Consuelo can create a projection like Aura for herself, why can't she use Felipe as a sacrifice to bring back the general?

Cats

Traditionally (or at least in Sabrina the Teenage Witch), witches tend to have a black cat companion. Before I even began reading Aura, the cover led me to believe that there would probably be a pet cat involved, and I was surprised to learn that Consuelo's only pet was Saga, the rabbit. In class, we discussed how a rabbit also has witch-like implications and is often involved in sacrifices, but I didn't quite buy it. Why befriend the offering? A cat seems like a much more appropriate choice, especially with all the black magic imagery it conjures.

Of course, Fuentes doesn't hold back on the cat imagery, either. Consuelo lights cats on fire and crushes them between her legs. When Felipe suggests she bring the cats inside to take care of her rat problem, she replies, "The cats? What cats?" (53). Consuelo alternates between torturing cats and denying their existence, and I just can't figure out how this parallels her character. She devotes most of her energy to witchcraft, but wholeheartedly rejects its most universal symbol. Maybe it has to do with some sort of power dynamic. Black cats are seen to have power over humans (bad luck, etc.), and this could be what Consuelo takes issue with. She prefers Saga the rabbit as a pet, who seems to represent a conduit for magic. Felipe serves an analogous purpose as a sacrifice to bring the general back, and Aura appears to have been summoned by a similar sacrifice. Perhaps Consuelo prefers to surround herself with empty shells ready for filling rather than something as mystical as a cat.

Problems with Translation and Transformation

One thing that we can never be sure of (unless we fluently speak Spanish) is how accurate this translation is from the original Spanish version. No matter what languages are used and translated, it is impossible to translate a story 100% accurately. It would be interesting to read this novel with a class that spoke both English and Spanish to see how the two compare. My family is Ukrainian and when I was younger I learned how to speak Ukrainian before I knew English. I also took some French in high school and can vouch that if you translated any of these three languages into another, they would have slightly differing meanings. I think that cultural backgrounds could also have an effect on translations in terms of sayings, cultural tendencies, and unique differences.
That being said, I wonder if in there is something in the Spanish culture that could help us better understand the transformation of characters, or the whole "chicken and the egg" situation that has confused all of us. I tried looking up transformations in the Spanish culture but came up empty handed. I suppose this could mean this idea was unique to Fuentes? Either way, as I was thinking about it, I would probably support the idea that Aura came first (like our discussion that the egg must have come first.) In order for Consuelo to make a construct of Aura, she must have needed to know "who" Aura was and how to construct her, which she would only know from previously being her. Consuelo must have missed her youth and yearned for it back in order to know what she wanted. It is still somewhat confusing to how Consuelo was able to make Aura’s ambiance, but I think that her will and persistence was so great that she was able to construct her from her past and imagination.