CRITERIOS Y ACTIVIDADES DE EVALUACIÓN

The large number of characters typical of ensemble narratives makes it possible for the authors to explore different social and cultural backgrounds, as well as the way in which they are connected to one another. Furthermore, it is my contention that ensemble narratives, through their multiple plotlines and characters, also reflect the interconnection that characterizes our increasingly globalized world. In this regard, I agree with Azcona when she argues that

the development of the multi-protagonist genre in the last two decades has run parallel with the significant impact of a series of scientific and social discourses—such as chaos theory, the butterfly effect, the global village conception of the world and six degrees of separation theories—which have both challenged traditional notions of causality and emphasized the network nature of human life and interaction in an increasingly shrinking and globalized world. (“A Time” 114)

This type of fiction reflects our globalized world in which cultures and people interact more and more, partially dissipating social and cultural borders and differences. For instance, El Puente/The Bridge focuses on the constant crossing of the social and cultural border between Mexico and the United States, where the distinctions between both sides are somewhat blurry, with individuals living and working on either side of the border, regardless of where they are from. Concerning these boundaries, Ibarraran points out that Romo’s novel “as a whole, its setting, characters, as well as its style and language, indeed continuously cross and challenge definitions of simplicity and extraordinariness, and symbolically represent the permeability of boundaries (both real and metaphorical)” (138). This constant permeability of boundaries and the ever-present crossing of borders in the novel is echoed in its formal aspects. I would argue that the

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narrative crosses borders and boundaries at a literary and structural level. With its vignette-like structure, El Puente/The Bridge devotes one chapter to each of its characters, with the exception of Tomasita, who gets two, and Lola and Lorena, who share theirs. Nevertheless, most of these fourteen women are present in chapters that follow other characters. Consequently, there is a crossing of “literary borders” between those chapters, and the narrative itself resembles the International Bridge, working as a bridge between the characters and their plotlines. As a result, the thematic content and the formal structure are closely connected in Romo’s novel, as we shall see in more detail in the following chapters.

Yamashita’s narrative is also interested in exploring the dissipating borders in relation to the process of globalization. Mark Chiang underscores that much of “Yamashita’s work […] is characterized by various efforts to create symbolic or figurative representations of globalization,” for example, the orange “in which the Tropic of Cancer is embedded” in Tropic of Orange (841).113 _{Similarly to the canvas-}

like 19th century realist novels (see Chiang 841), Yamashita’s Tropic of Orange and the

other narratives included in this corpus include a large number of characters in order to achieve an in-depth exploration of a variety of social issues from different perspectives. Hence, ensemble narratives are a suitable type of narrative to discuss and reflect globalization. It bears repeating that their literary tradition spans several centuries, from the Middle Ages to the realist novels populated by multiple characters.114 Furthermore,

ensemble narratives make use of the same techniques and strategies included in single- protagonist narratives: characters whose state of affairs is disturbed and need to solve a

113 _{Globalization is also present in the other novels written by Yamashita. The most conspicuous cases are} Through the Arc of the Rain Forest (1990) and I Hotel (2011). The former, set in Brazil, follows a

Japanese immigrant, a ball that floats around his head, an American businessman working for a corporation that exploits natural resources in the country, and other Brazilian characters, all connected by the Matacão plateau in the Brazilian rain forest. The latter narrates the experiences of several characters, staying at the International Hotel in San Francisco’s Chinatown from 1968 onwards.

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problem or attain goals, a process that will push them to undergo change. In fact, if we choose to focus on only one of the several protagonists, ensemble narratives can be seen or read as single-protagonist narratives, even though that is unlikely the intention of the author.

Apart from the main feature of ensemble narratives—having several protagonists—, the characters are frequently intertwined through coincidental events, as has been anticipated. Hilary P. Dannenberg defines coincidence as “a constellation of

two or more apparently random events in space and time with an uncanny or striking connection” (93; italics in the original). In their analysis of certain international co-

productions, Hester Baer and Ryan Long argue that these films share a “common aesthetic and thematic concern with contingency, chance, and coincidence, and with the lines between reality and fiction”; as a result their “plot and narrative structure” crystallize into “circular, fragmentary, or repetitive narratives, alternative or competing realities, and multiple versions or outcomes of the same story” (150). The multiple plotlines and protagonists that characterize these narratives often crisscross due to predictable coincidences, “whereby two sets of characters, both of whom we have been following in separate chapters or sections of the novel, meet” (Fludernik 46). Furthermore, the different threads are “shaped by the usual goals, obstacles, appointments, deadlines, and the like. And unlike coincidences in real life, movie coincidences create ‘small worlds’ in which characters will intersect again and again, especially if the duration and locale of the action are well circumscribed” (Bordwell,

Hollywood 98). This echoes our shrinking globalized world, in which we are

individually and collectively interlaced. Such coincidences are accepted by the audience, since they can actually happen in real life (97). Coincidental events may not only end up intertwining characters that the readers/viewers have been following in the

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narrative, but also new characters that are strangers to the protagonists we already know (Fludernik 46).

Among the works analyzed in this dissertation, in some cases the characters interact more than in others; for example, the protagonists in Crash share the same time and place, whereas in Babel the characters are in different locations that are only connected by the rifle. In order for these coincidences to happen, fate comes into play, and its role is that of an external force that controls the lives of the characters. Azcona points out that, in such films, the individual seems to be at the mercy of fate:

Randomness shows how fragile human existence is, since it can drastically alter their lives. The characters are not in control of their own lives. Yet this does not mean that the individual is not responsible for his actions. On the contrary, the fact that even a minuscule event can lead to significant changes implies a huge responsibility. (Multi-Protagonist 35)

Indeed, chance is, to a greater or lesser extent, present in all the works analyzed here. The globalized world also seems reflected by the coincidental connections between characters and their plotlines. Besides, by underscoring “randomness,” the narrative of multi-protagonist fiction in general “challenges traditional narrative patterns” (Azcona, “A Time” 112). Furthermore, what the characters want “is also affected by the subordination of individuals to an overarching structure where randomness and serendipity reign and accidental encounters control characters’ paths” (115). They are thus depicted to be somewhat at the mercy of “fate,” which rules over the characters’ decisions that are unable to escape the whims of randomness. Furthermore, this echoes the powerlessness and inevitability associated with both fate and the process of globalization. Both seem to be inescapable, controlling and influencing every aspect of our lives. Azcona’s article goes on to argue that “[a]s a result of the genre’s almost

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obsessive interest in the external and uncontrollable forces ruling people’s lives, the position and power of the individual characters is seriously compromised in multi- protagonist films” (“A Time” 114) and, I would add, novels. Regardless of their plans and desires, the characters in these ensemble narratives seem to be mere “puppets” in the hands of those external forces.

In the narratives discussed in this dissertation, “fate” and its effects on the characters have a varying degree of relevance. It could be argued that serendipity is not as present or conspicuous in Soderbergh’s Traffic as in the other films and novels. However, the whims of fate are still present in this cinematic narrative. An example of pure chance would be the fact that Robert Wakefield, the newly elected American drug czar, finds out that his daughter, Caroline, is indeed a drug addict precisely at that crucial moment in his professional and political career. This contrived coincidence underscores the message that drugs can certainly affect anyone and that the War on Drugs is not only fought at a social, political and economic level, but also in the bosom of families.

Next on the chart, The Inheritance of Loss can be considered somewhat more coincidental than Soderbergh’s movie. The relationship Sai has with her Nepali tutor, Gyan, may be deemed as a product of “randomness.” On the one hand, Gyan, who eventually enrolls in the GNLF party, rejects Western culture and its influence on Nepal and India. On the other hand, Sai, raised by English nuns at a convent after losing her parents in an accident in Russia, embraces English and Western culture (e.g. Christmas), as well as Indian traditions. The difference in opinions makes the young couple argue, drifting away from each other until they end up breaking up, symbolizing

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the clash between the East and the West as well as the Westernized East.115 Another

possible case of serendipity is the parallelism between Jemubhai and Biju. Both of them have terribly negative and humiliating experiences in England and the United States respectively, where they drastically fail.116 _{Conspicuously enough, this correlation}

explores the similar consequences that colonialism and the neocolonial globalization have had in India. However, there are a couple of significant differences between these two characters. The judge is not an “illegal” immigrant in England. Besides, he always does everything he can to achieve his goals: succeeding in England and becoming as English as possible. Nevertheless, “fate” makes this impossible, for he is never good enough, the English always reject him and see him as Indian, as the Other. No matter how hard he tries to hide his Indianness, it will always be a part of him, and that is the main source of his unbounded hate. Apart from the potential economic benefits that Jemubhai’s experience in England may represent, honor for his family is one of the reasons why his family sends him to England in order to study; after all, “[g]etting a prestigious foreign education in England or America is one way to” achieve that honor (Mehta and Belk 402).

In contrast with Jemubhai, Biju is an “illegal” immigrant driven by push factors—lack of opportunities in his home country—and pull factors—a prospect of a better life offered by the United States. Biju ends up failing to succeed in the U.S.,

115 _{Sai reflects the Westernized East through her behavior—e.g. the way she eats, the festivities and}

celebrations she enjoys, and her lifestyle as a whole—, echoing the fact that aspects of the Western culture have been adopted by the East.

116 _{The book cover of the 2006 U.S. edition of The Inheritance of Loss shows two storks flying towards}

stormy, yet hopeful clouds (see fig. 4 in Appendix 1). These migratory birds that return during springtime, the season of rebirth, may allude to individuals who migrate to foreign countries. In the novel, as in the cover, there are two “storks,” two migrants: Biju and Jemubhai. Just like the birds, they travel to other lands, each in their own time. In both cases, the trip to the West is a source of hope for a better life. However, their hope is slowly eroded by the “storm” they find in the U.S. and England: humiliation, discrimination, rejection, failure, all exercises of violence. Eventually, both protagonists return to their homeland, as the storks do. Precisely because storks migrate back during spring, they are connected to the idea of rebirth and a new life (babies are brought by storks, right?). In Biju’s case, he has to start from scratch back in India after the insurgents strip him of all his belongings, even his clothes—he experiences a rebirth and, as if he were a newborn, he only has his family.

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where he only manages to get low-wage jobs, and eventually returns to India, thus losing almost everything he has.117 However, on this occasion, there is an element of

choice. Even if Biju is not fully aware of the consequences of his actions in New York, the fact that he rejects adapting to the host culture and favors instead his inherited Indian traditions, values and beliefs comes from his own will. It is true that “fate” hinders Biju’s success in the United States: he goes from one underpaid job to another, from a bad job to a worse one. The lack of opportunities, added to the overwhelming discrimination against him, pushes him towards his Indianness, his “inheritance.” For instance, he rejects working for any restaurant that serves steak, beef and anything related to cows for religious reasons: “One should not give up one’s religion, the principles of one’s parents and their parents before them. No, no matter what” (Desai 136). At this point, “fate” is no longer the main force behind Biju’s misfortune, but himself. David Wallace Spielman contends that Desai implies that Biju’s approach to facing a different culture as an immigrant is far from ideal (82). The novel seems to advocate some sort of adaptation to the host culture in order to succeed, for it mentions that “[t]hose who could see a difference between a holy cow and an unholy cow would win” (Desai 136). Biju, however, fails to do so.

Serendipity plays a major role in the development of the remaining narratives.

Tropic of Orange depicts this type of random events, with coincidental connections

among the characters, even though the reader might be left with the feeling that they are

117 _{The name Biju is likely to come from the name Vijaya (“Biju”), which means “victory” (Norman 268).}

Ironically, Biju never wins anything in the novel. In fact, he loses everything. In the U.S., he is far from his family, he faces discrimination and humiliation, only has access to low-wage jobs and lives in terrible conditions. The American context and culture forces him to question his inherited values and knowledge too; and when he returns to India, the insurgents rob them of all his possessions. Also, the name Biju means “jewel,” from the French word bijou (“Biju”). This highlights the boy’s connection to his father, Panna Lal, whose name means “emerald” (Norman 264). Both these names come from Sanskrit, stressing the Indian background and inheritance. The name Biju is popular in Bengal (“Biju”), the region where the novel is set. Thus, this name being popular and widely used denotes a representation of Indians in general and their experiences as immigrants. This echoes Fredric Jameson’s “national allegory,” which refers to narratives that focus on ordinary individuals and their lives in order to explore and reflect the nation.

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not such. The protagonists of Yamashita’s novel are often connected through coincidental relationships and networks with other characters. For instance, Emi is connected to Buzzworm through her boyfriend Gabriel, who is friends with Buzzworm. A significant intertwining that seems to be triggered by serendipity is the relationship between Emi and Manzanar. Even though both are Asian American, the reader may not establish a connection between them, since she is an upper-middle class TV producer and Manzanar is a former surgeon who chooses to become a homeless conductor of the highway traffic symphony uniting everyone in L.A. It is not until the second half of the novel when the readers learn that Emi is Manzanar’s granddaughter, which reminds us of the coincidental family reunion so common in traditional coincidence plots (Dannenberg 93). Additionally, Emi is a victim of a tragic fate. At the end of the novel, the U.S. government massacres the homeless people living in the vehicles that got caught in a traffic jam. During this violent attack, Emi, who is working covering the development of this community, is shot to death. Even if this could be interpreted as Emi being in the wrong place at the wrong time, this event shows that violence affects anyone regardless of their background.

Nevertheless, there is also an exception in Tropic of Orange. Arcangel is not a victim of randomness and pure chances. To cite an instance, it could be considered pure chance that, after mysteriously disappearing from Gabriel’s orange tree in Mexico, the orange ends up in the hands of a woman. Later on, this woman “coincidentally” sells this worthless, out-of-season orange to Arcangel, who eventually takes the fruit to the American side of the U.S.-Mexico border. Another example is the intertwining of Arcangel and Rafaela, which also seems to be a coincidence. After finding out that her neighbor’s son, Hernando, is involved with the traffic of organs, Rafaela tries to escape from him by leaving Mexico with her baby, Sol, Hernando’s target. Fate seems to bring

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Rafaela and Arcangel together, and it is him who helps Rafaela by safely taking Sol to the U.S. when she can no longer run away from Hernando. Are these intersections coincidences or just events previously planned by the prophetic Arcangel? This character always seems to be where he is supposed to in order to achieve his goals of reclaiming L.A. for Mexico and Latin America. He knew that the Tropic of Cancer could be felt in the orange. Hence, it is possible that he also knew about the itinerary of the fruit and where to intercept it. Moreover, Sol represents a new beginning, a new Latin American L.A., and his name, “sun,” is obviously connected to the orange that embodies the Tropic of Cancer. It may be that Arcangel knew all of this in advance and planned his meeting with Rafaela and Sol accordingly, to make sure the baby would get to L.A. As a matter of fact, he seems to be able to foresee the future, so he may be able to make his own fate and influence the fate of others. Therefore, Arcangel might be an “alter-ego” of the author, who controls everything in the world of the novel. God-like, this character is aware of all the events happening in that fictional world. Furthermore, since Arcangel is indebted to the trickster tradition,118 understanding him as Yamashita’s alter-ego underscores her parodic and sarcastic style, visible, for example, in the wrestling fight, Emi’s attitude toward multiculturalism, and so on. Besides, Arcangel’s foreshadowing abilities are possible due to his mythical and angelical