Who Would Have Thought It? Book

1.5/5

I always find myself between a rock in a hard place when it comes to books of a rarely represented demographic on the Anglo side of things that refuses to measure up. More and more often, the reason for my having picked up certain books rests entirely in the interest of excavation, and yet, when the quality is almost entirely lacking, I seek to be honest about such, as I aim to put my days of sucking up to peer pressure far behind me. Once again, satire, satire, satire, and while the author did have some good moments whilst aiming at my favorite target for punching up (hint: it starts with U and ends with A and has a habit of proclaiming itself to be two entire continents despite merely being a single country), it takes a certain skill to ride the line of justified rage and not topple over into either clownish hypocrisy or nonsensical rant, and Burton was unfortunately one or the other most of the time. It certainly didn't help that this otherwise nice looking Penguin Classics edition's customary introduction, end notes, and supplementary material are of a particularly shoddy quality, so unlike my time with East Lynne, I didn't come away with particularly appreciable improvement in my awareness of the author's life and historical venue. Such, however, doesn't excuse the persistent lack of inclusion of this particular work in lists that aim to provide a comprehensive catalog of Penguin Classics and were created more recently than 2009. So, all in all, quite the mess all around in terms of the the audience reception, edition compilation, and the creative composition itself. If Burton was a white guy, we'd have the usual excuses and a 0.2-0.4 increase in average rating, but I suppose that'd make the reading effort a bit too easy.

So, María Amparo Ruiz de Burton was one of the ones whom the border passed over when the United States ate a chunk of Mexico back in the day and thought itself the land of cishet WASP cowboys ever since. It's clear from the contents of this work that she's had a bone to pick ever since with the religion, the government, the capitalism, the machismo, and a host of other things that swamped into her fifteen-year-old view when her hometown surrendered in that often obfuscated Mexican American War. Thanks to the author marrying one of those invading WASPs who ended up climbing the ranks high enough for his wife to chill with the likes of Mrs. Lincoln, Burton has a more credible finger on the pulse point of the government back then. Considering the contemporary face of the US political force, I can well believe in her descriptions of the corruption and cold brutality that ruled the roost of the so called democratic republic. The problem is how uneven the satire is in places: spread too thin in many a section of extended plot, bunched up too thick in extended monologues that are wildly out of character for whichever spokesperson proved most conveniently at hand for last minute delivery. In addition, the fact that 99% of the content sold as satire today is just bigots looking for a shield means I had no patience for doing the song and dance over whether Burton showing a character to be nasty or being nasty herself, especially when other authors have done so much better. So, if you have a particular interest in this corner of history in this particular place, go for it. Otherwise, it's going to be a trudge, and such is not entirely the fault of the author.

So, another swing and a miss, but I'd rather do it reading someone who is of a status similar to the first Mexican American novelist and the first Mexican American woman novelist than the same old, same old. It reminded me of how much this country of mine desperately needs satirizing and how rarely I seek out such due to the poor handling the genre suffers from in modern times. Also, for all its comical absurdities, it offered a welcome contrast to the maudlin obfuscation of 'Lonesome Dove' in terms of specific detail and a lack of fear when it comes to characterization more varied than a nigh unbelievable muddying generality of goodwill. And, on a final, more mercantile note, it's yet another check in the box for a specific publishing line and era of literature and out of the way book by women and all that. Like I said, if you really are in the line of going for that and a few other topics relevant to this particular work's focus, go for it. Otherwise, I prefer Dickens for this kind of topic, and with me, that's saying something.