I was impressed by the way in which Allen weaved
ethnographic accounts with media analysis. Another author might explore these
separately, with a chapter dedicated to the history of Cuba, another to media,
another to ethnographic data, etc. However, Allen with great ease moves from one
method of inquiry to another. In chapter 2, for example, he starts by painting
a picture of a kitchen scene in which he talks to one of his interlocutors.
Their conversation centers on ideas of sugar and sex. From here, he moves—both within
the conversation with the woman and within the book—to a discussion of Fernando
Ortiz’s book “Cuban Counterpoint.” Without noticing, Allen then guides us
through a brief history lesson and critique of Ortiz’s book. The chapter continues
to draw in various texts, historical references, poetry, and returns to more
conversations from his ethnographic research.
Throughout, he presents a complex analysis of sexuality, gender, nation,
and the symbolic role of food (sugar and
tobacco) in understanding these connections. In his own words, Allen says that
his text “intervenes at the nexus of these themes in order to consider the
dynamism and political potential of gendered, sexualized, and raced self-making”
(3). He sees the book as an “experience of moving in and between a number of
connected scenes, neighborhoods, and social spheres, as well as intellectually
moving between distinct theoretical, thematic, and historical frames” (5)
In thinking about how to apply this to my own research, I
began to consider the different “scenes” and “frames” I could explore. One
obstacle in terms of ethnographic research is that, because of funding, I will
probably not be able to go to Mexico; and, even if I had enough money, I will
mostly likely not participate in being smuggled across the border. Because of
this, I imagine that the “scenes” I will be in physically will be immigrant
workplaces and homes to discuss their stories. On the other hand, I could try
to base my questions on having my participants create scenes for me: asking for
thorough descriptions of places and moments. I’m worried that the scenes that I
would then create wouldn't be as “real” as the ones Allen describes as they
would be my interpretation of someone’s description. However, I can imagine
chapters describing moments at the border, in detention, in hiding, in a home
preparing for the crossing, etc. In terms of movement between intellectual frames,
it is easy to see how I could have a literature review mixed in with my
analysis; however, I started thinking about more about how I could integrate
literature, music and film. I am aware of a lot of activist song writing, and I
wonder if these songs penetrate the consciousness and experiences of border
crossers.
As always, I also paid close attention to the way in which
Allen situated himself into the material. What I noticed is that while he does
have a section in which he provides a brief biography (on pages 7-8 he briefly
discusses who he is an in particular how he approached “coming out” to his
participants), most of his reflexivity is found within the text: on page 32, a
discussion of “becoming” momentarily the Cuban other in the eyes of tourist; on
He often compares his own experiences in the United States with observations in
Cuba (on page 79 he compares image of “respectable black ladies and Latinas of
my parent’s cohort in the United States” and Lili’s performance as a woman). I
like how he weaves himself throughout the text and providing comparisons
between his history, worldview and experiences to help us to understand the Cuban
context. Of all of the “positionality statements” we have seen this semester,
for me, Allen’s is the most useful and the most interesting. He never takes
himself out of the story but is still able to maintain intellectual integrity.
Finally, briefly, I truly enjoyed his writing style. His
language and sentence structure were complex but playful and altogether
engaging. I appreciated his use of language and translation; I have been
struggling to figure out how to present quotes in Spanish in an English
publication, and I liked how he translated most but left certain phrases in
Spanish when the English translation wasn’t adequate. For example, he quotes
Esteban on page 161: “She looks very civilizada
[in the know or sophisticated] and educada
[educated]… I am a laborer, and I am not muy
negro [very black], but my mother is like her.” (161). I had never
considered this as an option for translation, but I am going to return to some
of my work and see if it would be enhanced by this type of translation. I don’t
like that the punctuation (brackets) and italics, while necessary, are distracting.
On the other hand, I like that this preserves some of the original and
important nuances of language for Spanish-speaking readers while not alienating
English-only readers.
No comments:
Post a Comment