The last time I looked up a map of Paraguay I was in 7th grade, perhaps 6th. The country is hardly in news. It doesn’t matter to us much. This is what bothered Francisco Solano Lopez or Franco way back in 1854, so much so, that he dragged his country into war and devastation. The News From Paraguay by Lily Tuck is the story of Franco and Ella Lynch- an Irish courtesan living in France, until she meets Franco and moves to Paraguay to be his mistress, the mother of his children and a powerful voice in Paraguay’s governance.
Ella adapts, learns Spanish and Guarani and develops a taste for yerba mate. Franco tries to change his country as dictator by building opera houses and libraries. Ella survives war and disease. Franco dies before getting thousands of his men killed. Both are complex people, tender at times yet unscrupulous and greedy. Franco gets his brothers killed, puts his sisters in prison on charges of treason as he fights a losing battle against the allied forces of Brazil, Argentina and Banda Orientale (now Uruguay). The same Franco indulges his son, mourns the death of his daughter and plays a considerate lover to his mistress. Ella leaves her Russian patron to be with Franco because he can pay her bills. But she shields her servants and cares for her horse Mathilde even when the war makes survival difficult. The book faintly reminds me of Gone with the wind. The protagonists stay together, not necessarily for love.
The vivid imagery, the seamless interweaving of fact and fiction, the fearless exploration of human strengths and weaknesses makes it an interesting read. If you enjoy historic fiction, go for it.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Frank McCourt
"The master says its a glorious thing to die for the Faith and Dad says its a glorious thing to die for Ireland and I wonder if there is anyone in the world who'd like us to live."
Frank McCourt died this Sunday. He was 78. The son of a beggar living in Limerick slums, a telegram boy, a waiter in New York, a clerk, a student, a High School teacher, an author. His is the story of a "miserable Irish Catholic childhood". And its a story he tells without a hint of bitterness, which is what makes it so powerful.
Frank and his three brothers were brought up on a diet of tea and bread, sometimes just warm water. They went to a government school, lived on charity, picked coal for a fire on the road, plugged holes in their shoes with pieces of tyre and shared a huge old bed.
The father drank all the dole money. The family starved and begged - a pig head for Christmas dinner. "He chose the bottle over the babies." Beyond a point you don't blame him. He was just a weak man who abandoned his family. The mother took all that came her way as the will of God. The kids, they fought.
Angela's Ashes is a memoir that inspires you with the innocent faith and optimism of a boy.
"Then he placed on my tongue the wafer, the body and blood of Jesus. I drew it back. It stuck. I had God glued to the roof of my mouth.
The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came.
Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast. Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus.
Bless me Father, for I have sinned.
I overslept. I nearly missed my First Communion. My grandmother said I have standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair. I threw up my First Communion breakfast. Now Grandma says she has God in her backyard and what should she do."
The second book 'Tis is set mostly in New York. Its Frank's journey from being a boy off the boat to a teacher. Its a bit of a drag towards the end. The other books I might not read. But I respect the man who turned his sorry tale of squalor into a story of courage and forgiveness. May he rest in peace.
Frank McCourt died this Sunday. He was 78. The son of a beggar living in Limerick slums, a telegram boy, a waiter in New York, a clerk, a student, a High School teacher, an author. His is the story of a "miserable Irish Catholic childhood". And its a story he tells without a hint of bitterness, which is what makes it so powerful.
Frank and his three brothers were brought up on a diet of tea and bread, sometimes just warm water. They went to a government school, lived on charity, picked coal for a fire on the road, plugged holes in their shoes with pieces of tyre and shared a huge old bed.
The father drank all the dole money. The family starved and begged - a pig head for Christmas dinner. "He chose the bottle over the babies." Beyond a point you don't blame him. He was just a weak man who abandoned his family. The mother took all that came her way as the will of God. The kids, they fought.
Angela's Ashes is a memoir that inspires you with the innocent faith and optimism of a boy.
"Then he placed on my tongue the wafer, the body and blood of Jesus. I drew it back. It stuck. I had God glued to the roof of my mouth.
The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came.
Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast. Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus.
Bless me Father, for I have sinned.
I overslept. I nearly missed my First Communion. My grandmother said I have standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair. I threw up my First Communion breakfast. Now Grandma says she has God in her backyard and what should she do."
The second book 'Tis is set mostly in New York. Its Frank's journey from being a boy off the boat to a teacher. Its a bit of a drag towards the end. The other books I might not read. But I respect the man who turned his sorry tale of squalor into a story of courage and forgiveness. May he rest in peace.
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