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A review by fionnualalirsdottir
Pedro Páramo by Juan Rulfo
People often talk about 'Before and After', as in before something momentous happens and after it has happened.
There's a 'Before and After' in this book, and though the transition between the two happens from one moment to the next, there's an immeasurable distance between them in everything except time. I think of that distance as the distance between the town of Colima and the town of Comala, both real places in Mexico.
When his mother dies, Juan Preciado sets out from his home in Colima to find his father, Pedro Páramo, in Comala. As he approaches Comala, he meets a man called Abundio at a crossroads called Los Encuentros. That well-named crossroads marks the transition from Before to After.
After, for Juan Preciado, is when 'from one moment to the next' no longer exists, all moments are now concurrent, and all places have disappeared except Comala. There is no more Time and no more Distance. There is only Comala.
As I read about Pedro Páramo and Juan Preciado, and Susana San Juan and her Florencio, and Abundio Martinez and his Cuca, and Eduviges and Dolorita, and Damiana and Dorotea, and Father Rentería and Ana, and Miguel Páramo and El Colorado, the words seemed to shift about on the bright white page, replacing and repeating each other, scattering and reforming like birds in the evening until finally disappearing, taking their meaning with them.
Then I'd turn the blue-shadowed page and the words would be back in their bright white places, and I'd keep turning pages until once again, the words would fade into the blue shadows and disappear. I became so used to this pattern that when there were no more pages left to turn, I went back to the beginning and started the bright white pages all over again, watching now for the moments when the words would take off like birds at evening, and following along behind them.
I'd learned how to read Pedro Páramo.
There is a Before and After in my reading life. Before I read Pedro Páramo and after I read Pedro Páramo
There's a 'Before and After' in this book, and though the transition between the two happens from one moment to the next, there's an immeasurable distance between them in everything except time. I think of that distance as the distance between the town of Colima and the town of Comala, both real places in Mexico.
When his mother dies, Juan Preciado sets out from his home in Colima to find his father, Pedro Páramo, in Comala. As he approaches Comala, he meets a man called Abundio at a crossroads called Los Encuentros. That well-named crossroads marks the transition from Before to After.
After, for Juan Preciado, is when 'from one moment to the next' no longer exists, all moments are now concurrent, and all places have disappeared except Comala. There is no more Time and no more Distance. There is only Comala.
As I read about Pedro Páramo and Juan Preciado, and Susana San Juan and her Florencio, and Abundio Martinez and his Cuca, and Eduviges and Dolorita, and Damiana and Dorotea, and Father Rentería and Ana, and Miguel Páramo and El Colorado, the words seemed to shift about on the bright white page, replacing and repeating each other, scattering and reforming like birds in the evening until finally disappearing, taking their meaning with them.
Then I'd turn the blue-shadowed page and the words would be back in their bright white places, and I'd keep turning pages until once again, the words would fade into the blue shadows and disappear. I became so used to this pattern that when there were no more pages left to turn, I went back to the beginning and started the bright white pages all over again, watching now for the moments when the words would take off like birds at evening, and following along behind them.
I'd learned how to read Pedro Páramo.
There is a Before and After in my reading life. Before I read Pedro Páramo and after I read Pedro Páramo