Caramelo audiobook

I really loved this book, and I was completely surprised that I did. When I'm handed a book and the summary from the person giving it to me is prefaced by "well, it's really slow at first...", let's just say I don't have high expectations. I can be a lazy reader, but this book was completely worth the investment. I happened to read it on a quiet weekend and I think that's exactly what you need. A few hours to delve into it and I was hooked. Cisneros' writing is vivid and spare, but never pretentious or obvious. I really liked the short chapters that didn't necessarily flow chronologically. It made me pay attention and get my bearings at the beginning of each little story, and then sink into the vignettes that so happened to all connect together. All I can say is - give yourself a vacation or a rainy day to start this book, and you won't be disappointed. I've really never read anything like it.

http://divagaciones-de-una-poulain.bl...Nunca me había encontrado con un libro que hablara de manera tan sencilla de mi cultura, la mexicana, y no fuera de alguien de aquí. Sandra Cisneros es descendiente de Mexicanos nacida en Estados Unidos, chicana, como quien dice. Hay mucha gente que cree que la cultura es la misma o muy parecida, que al fin y al cabo es latina, pero hay algo que cambia. Los hijos de mexicanos nacidos del otro lado de la frontera no conocen México muchas veces y hablan español con acento. La diferencia cultural es brutal, porque no comen la misma comida, aunque sea parecida, no conocen el picante de verdad, no festejan el 15 y el 16 de Septiembre, sino en Cinco de Mayo, tradición puramente chicana. Este libro es sobre eso: sobre estar al borde de dos culturas y ver como Lala trata de entender sus raíces.La primera parte de la historia nos cuenta las aventuras de Lala en los veranos en México, en la casa de Awful Grandmother y un viaje a Acapulco. El reparto lo acaban de completar Aunty Light-Skin, Uncle Baby y Uncle Fat-Face, además de todos sus primos y sus seis hermanos. Por la época, imagino que estamos en los cincuentas o en los setentas. Todo el libro Awful Grandmother no ha parado de recordarme a las historias que he leído de mi propia abuela. Por eso, quizá, aunque es un personaje que no está hecho para agradar del todo, me ha parecido muy cercano. Reconozco ese clasismo Mexicano de querer parecer más español, esa celebración a las raíces indígenas que empieza después de la Revolución, pero en la que los indios siguen siendo discriminados, apartados y tratatos, como diría Lala: like shit. Lo reconozco todo. Los tamales, el mole, los rebozos de bolita de Santa María del Río, San Luis Potosi, Acapulco. Lala lo pinta como un mundo extraño, pero a mí todas las descripciones aún en inglés con muchísimas palabras en español y expresiones derivadas del español me recuerdan algo que ya conozco: es el mundo en el que vivo: hace 50 años.Después, la historia retrocede y nos cuenta cómo se conocieron Little Grandfather y Awful Grandmother. Hay quien dice que es un recurso para poder empatizar con los dos personajes, en especial con la desagradable abuela. En esa historia son sólo Soledad Reyes y Narciso Reyes. Primos demasiado lejanos que ni siquiera lo saben. Narciso es hijo de un sevillano que da clases de música y una mujer que vive sumida en sus propias ínfulas, convencida de que pertenece a la alta sociedad. Nos narra los días de la Revolución y la Guerra en la ciudad de México. La Décena Trágica en la que Narciso perdió tres costillas y la entrada de los Zapatistas y de los Villistas a la ciudad.Después volvemos al futuro, donde Lala ya no es una niña que ve a sus papás y a su abuela pelear en Acapulco. Estamos en Chicago y la abuela se ha mudado con ellos, ella está apunto de entrar en High School y está intentando entender su adolescencia. Es demasiado grande para su edad, no demasiado bonita y demasiado tímida. Está rodeada de hombres y su madre no es alguien de confianza. Vive en un departamento con otras ocho personas donde es imposible tener privacidad. Es la parte que más lejana me sonó de toda la historia, pero aún así soy capaz de reconocer lo mexicano en toda la historia. Me encantó el libro porque, además, Sandra Cisneros escribe de una manera muy poética, sin sonar rebuscada o forzada. La historia es simple y la narradora, Lala, sabe como llegar al corazón de los lectores. Pienso que este libro traducido pierde mucho. Muchas de las expresiones están en español, así que hay partes escritas con mucho mucho spanglish y traducido no se aprecia ese detalle. Otro detallazo es que nada viene traducido en los pies de página, sino que los pies de página, que no son muchos ni exagerados, traen detalles de la historia, geografía y cultura en general de México. Hay una cita, en especial, que quiero dedicarle a todos aquellos que creen conocer el estereotipo físico latino. A todas esas personas que dicen que alguien rubio y de ojos claros no es latina, o que alguien de piel demasiado oscura tampoco lo es. Sólo en México tenemos una variedad impresionante:— Hey, hippie girl, you Mexican? On both sides?— Front & back, I say.— You sure don’t look Mexican.A part of me wants to kick their ass. A part of me feels sorry for their stupid ignorant selves. But if you’ve never been farther south than Nuevo Laredo, how the hell would you know what Mexicans are supposed to look like, right?There are the green-eyed Mexicans. The rich blond Mexicans. The Mexicans w/the faces of Arab sheiks. The Jewish Mexicans. The big-footed-as-a-German Mexicans. The leftover-French Mexicans. The chaparrito compact Mexicans. The Tarahumara tall-as-a-desert-saguaro Mexicans. The Mediterranean Mexicans. The Mexicans w/Tunisian eyebrows. The negrito Mexicans of the double coasts. The Chinese Mexicans. The curly-haired, freckled-faced, red-headed Mexicans. The Lebanese Mexicans. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about when you say I don’t look Mexican. I am Mexican. Even though I was born on the U.S. side of the border.En fin, esta reseña ya me esta quedando demasiado larga, así que simplemente me queda decirles ya que el libro es muy recomendable y que a mí me encantó. Realmente es un libro que vale muchísimo la pena y Sandra Cisneros ha resultado ser todo un diamante en bruto.

I really enjoyed this book. It took me a long time to read it because I would get through a chapter (all chapters are very short) and have to reminisce about my own personal experiences. Cisneros brings to the forefront issues that many Latinas face. Annoyance of metiche family members and crazy tales they tell, but also a deep love for family. She sprinkled in Spanish words I hadn’t heard in years, that I grew up with but I just don’t hear in Austin. I did realize I am a "Texican"…ha ha, I’m not quite Mexican, but I’m not really a full American either (and I mean culture-wise, not citizen/legality-wise). This is just about the only book I have read that really hit home to my own experiences, to my life. If you enjoyed this book, I would recommend “How to be a Chicana Role Model” and “Chicana Falsa” by Michele Serros.

Prendete una famiglia chiassosa, una macchina straripante di bagagli, tanti passeggeri quante sono le dita di una mano. Mischiateci un confine - quello tra Stati Uniti e Messico - e una nonna despota ad aspettarli col rosario e il rebozo - il velo tipico messicano - stretti tra le dita. Non vi ho convinti? Caramelo si racconta da sé, basta solo scorrere le pagine e lasciarsi catturare: dagli scambi di battute alla Lessico famigliare - esilaranti solo perché non si appartiene a quella famiglia - alle atmosfere colorate e rumorose tipiche dell’America centrale, non serve altro per immedesimarsi nella storia. C’è un po’ di tutti noi - un po’ di tutte le nostre stravaganti a loro modo famiglie - all’interno di questo romanzo firmato Cisneros. E poi un briciolo di storia, che però si impara tra un sorriso e l’altro; se a raccontarla è nonna Tremenda - un nome, una certezza - a rimanerne incantati siamo noi. E di tornare a sedere sulle ginocchia di nonna, ditemi un po’, non ne avete voglia anche voi? La storia? Lala nasce a Chicago: ha sei fratelli maggiori, una madre orgogliosa, un padre protettivo e una nonna cocciuta. Ma Lala, soprattutto, è messicana. Caramelo è la storia della sua famiglia, una storia di identità, di negoziazione, di radici, che si mescola e attinge alla storia della famiglia dell’autrice, chicana anche lei. Se avete voglia di farvi un viaggio in Messico, questo libro fa al caso vostro: lo si respira e si vive in ogni riga. Oppure se amate le saghe familiari, se avete un debole per le nonne, se avete curiosità per la cultura messicana, se avete voglia di una storia che alterna leggerezza a lacrimuccia.

I love Sandra Cisneros. And this family narrative is another reason why she is one of my favorite authors. Exploring the untold stories of the familia Reyes, she takes the reader on a journey that is intertwined with stories that are fictional and real. Stories that remind you of a folklore that can only be told by grandparent and great grandparents; the magical realism that exist in the pueblos of Mexico that tries to make sense of wars, conquest and religion. And that in making sense of what is happening, this truth-combined with fiction-becomes the norm for a group of people like the Reyes family. So, as the new generation of Reyes emerge from the soil of Ciudad Mexico, the stories either become your guiding force to live by or a burden and forces you to uproot and seed in the USA -(or was it the corrupt government ?).She explores deep family values and belief, that guide till this day, the family dynamic in Latin American countries: First born son accolade, skin color, arranges marriage, society dynamics, the “que dirán,” Machismo and infidelity, to name a few. For Lala, the storyteller, we then start to explore the struggle of her bicultural identity. Cisneros, through Celaya, tries to explain this: not American enough and not Mexican enough. We feel the struggle and can get a sense of normalcy only once Celaya learns a hard lesson given to her by her dead grandmother-of which she can see and hear.Finally, the title Caramelo! References are made to the color throughout the story in a variety of situations. But especially a very sacred heirloom rebozo that holds the stories of the female characters as they are trying to find their place on this earth. All in all, I really enjoyed this novel. Thanks Sandra Cisneros, for writing like you do.

This book kinda chose me. It explained so many things about my current life in the US, it had me reflect on my past, my present and my future. Insightful and fun, there's no order to the stories told, and sometimes it's hard to tell what story you really are reading. My guess is that Sandra envisioned this book as a big old cuento, with a lot of telenovela, and a lot of those nonsensical truths, too mundane to be called paradoxes. It's easy to get lost in her vivid characters or in their telenovelesque lives but I think that's what this novel strives at. Pointing how telenovelesque our lives can be. It might not be perfect or maybe disparate mini stories with the same characters too stretched to be enclosed under a novel but the reading is pleasant and praise to Cisneros that really gave a lot on this book. Kudos to that!

This is a love letter to stories, a México y a las familias grandes y ruidosas y complicadas. Quiero mucho a Sandra, siempre me enseña cosas. Siempre me recuerda que amo las historias, stories are what shape the world after all, y necesito escuchar historias y necesito contar historias. Solo con sus libros siento lo que siento. Here are some of the most wonderful bits:"And I realize with all the noise called 'talking' in my house, that talking that is nothing but talking, that is so much a part of my house and my past and myself you can't hear it as several conversations but as one roar like the roar inside a shell, I realize that this is my life""There'll be others, there ought to be others, you must have others. Ay, Celaya, you're not even a whole person yet, you're still growing ingo who you are. Why, all your life you'll be growing into who you are" Y muchos más.

Just what you'd expect from Cisneros--vivid language that leaves you with fragments of flavors, colors, sounds, and sensations. You travel to and from Chicago, Mexico, and San Antonio with the characters and you grow to love them along the way. What I didn't like was the ongoing metafictional conversation between the narrator and the grandmother about memory and facts, and how they are altered for the greater truth of the story. Why do authors writing autobiographical novels feel the need to justify this? It's one thing to call a book non-fiction if it isn't. But this is a novel--a beautiful and memorable story.

Caramelo is a most unusual book. It is part-memoir, part-fiction, part-retelling of The House on Mango Street, and part-dream. Knowing very well what I do of Sandra Cisneros and her generally small body of work, I can never quite tell where the line between Caramelo's main character (Lala Reyes) and Cisneros herself actually is. Several incidents in this novel even mirror Esperanza's tale and those of her poems, muddying even more the line between fact and fiction and more fiction.When I heard Cisneros speak back in 2003, she insisted that Lala was a fictional rendering, but she left me wondering about memory itself and how it works. Aren't we all fictional characters in the novels of our own memories? At the end of Caramelo, she writes, "La Divina Providencia is the most imaginative writer. Plot lines convolute and spiral, lives intertwine, coincidences collide, seemingly random happenings are laced with knots, figure eights, and double loops, designs more intricate than the fringe of a silk rebozo. No, I couldn't make this up. Nobody could make up our lives." God, I love that--don't you? But at the same time, Cisneros proves that we can, in fact, make up/revise/fictionalize our own histories. We can tell, what she calls, "healthy lies" because even in our wildest literary inventions, we find truth.That said, Caramelo is a challenging novel to get through. There is no driving, single narrative to propel the reader, and as a result I usually end up reading it in chunks and then setting it down because I get sucked into another book. Her bold use of Spanish diction/bilingualism doesn't bother me, but I've heard that this has alienated other Anglo readers. I love the characters, but I feel at a distance from them at certain points in the novel. For example, Lala is at times the main character and at times merely an observer.Sandra Cisneros, though, is one of my favorite writers. Her prose is so musical, forever rhythmic, and always a surprise. Her way of describing even the most mundane things makes everything seem fresh and remarkable. She has probably had one of the biggest impacts on my own writing style, and for this reason, I will read Caramelo again and again to hear the musicality of the written word and wonder if I could ever create something from the shards of my life so utterly beautiful.

I didn't expect to enjoy this book as much as I did, going in. Halfway through it felt very much like the earlier works of Isabel Allende. It went on a bit too long for me, though, and I disliked the ending--that neat little package, the message that "family is always family." Because so often it isn't. But that's just my experience vs that of the author. Good use of language, though as a translator myself I did wonder why she mis-translated so many phrases so they don't mean in English quite what was said in Spanish.

Beautifully written, compelling, follows a family from Mexico City, back generations, then to the current—while not epic, it is comprehensive and brilliantly assembled. I loved this book. Had put off reading it for ten years because I read some stupidly bad review of it. The reviewer simply didn't understand what Cisneros was doing. So glad I finally went back.