21st Century Literature discussion

Once Javier agreed to do Miguel the favour of arranging his death, he says, "My mind had to start working and plotting like the mind of a criminal". Does his explanation of the circumstances make Javier, in the mind of María, any less a murderer? Does she even believe that Miguel was ill?

Whether Miguel was really ill, or whether that is just a story Javier told to justify his actions, is an open question I think we are meant to reflect on. Marias seems to be trying to create great moral ambiguity about Javier's actions. I don't buy it. If Miguel really was ill, I think Javier would have mentioned that earlier in his self-justification.

I'm inclined to agree. But, that said, he struck me as a very clever liar.

María's reaction is complex. Does she now think of Javier as a murderer, or does she think that Javier set up a chain of events that might well not have resulted in Miguel's death, so he is not a murderer?

What do you make of the distinction Javier draws between homicide and murder?

The more I reflect on this book, the more trouble I have believing in Maria. I don't understand why she acts the way she does at various points. I particularly don't understand why she left the bedroom in order to get a look at the co-conspirator, when this was almost certain to raise Javier's suspicions that she had overheard the conversation. Can she really have been that curious? Or that incautious? Or did some part of her want Javier to suspect that she had overheard the conversation?

I think part of her must have wanted Javier to know, which rather suggests she was playing a very dangerous game, indeed.

Her whole relationship with Javier, at least from this point on, seems like a dangerous game. I have trouble believing she really loves Javier, even before the revelation.

My mind is reeling. Was she jealous of Luisa and hoped - despite what she said - to win Javier? Is she in love with Javier? I think this woman isn't so much prudent as a manipulative control-freak (the silent, but deadly sort!). Which is why she just had to open that door. She needed to know what Ruibérriz look like.

Hitherto María imagines that in thinking of the bizarre misfortune of being attacked by a stranger, Miguel might have thought of María herself as one of a number of people "who are merely vague extras or marginal presences, who inhabit a corner or lurk in the obscure background of the painting and whom we don't even miss if they disappear"

If María, as our narrator, is such a vague extra or marginal presence, doesn't her first-person narration and her presence as a central character in the story dispel the notion of her obscurity?

María has her own picture of herself, as we all do, but perhaps that picture is less close to reality than some. She is certainly less passive, less prudent, less background, than she imagines herself, or purports, to be.

At the same time I can see a thread through all her actions that makes absolute sense in the moment, from her point of view. For me, she gets carried away with ideas, she gets infatuated, as per the title. First she is infatuated with The Perfect Couple, with their story, with the life she imagines for them, that she embellishes beyond what she can see. Then she becomes infatuated with Javier, with the idea that she can become something more to him than he has ever indicated she could. But note that she never talks about his character (something she accuses Luisa of at some point, interestingly); she spends far more time talking about his lips.

When she is behind the door, she sees the danger of her infatuation slipping away from her. A man who will kill for the object of his affection will not give it up lightly. On the outside of this plot, she will be cast aside (remember her fantasising about the perfect couple, the idea that they should at least tell her if they were about to go away, that the worst thing would be to just not see them again), just not called after one occasion, never even knowing that it is her last.

But stepping out, she insinuates herself into the story. I think her motivations are complex, but there is quiet possibly an element of hope that Javier will know that she has heard, and that this will somehow bring her closer to him. At the same time, perhaps she hopes that this will provide a definitive end to things, as will finding out more about it, dispelling any doubt: instead of being cast aside, she will lose the infatuation herself, or things will come to a head.

Also, there is the slight chance that she will discover something that mitigates or explains what she has heard. If she never does, she must assume the worst. And finally, her professed reason for coming out, that it would in fact make it less likely that Javier thought she had heard, has a kind of consistency... at the very least it allows her to plausibly lie to herself about her real reasons for coming out.

I think that Javier is probably a liar, but I think that the lack of certainty is important. I personally don't buy Javier's story, but not buying is different to being certain, and that distinction is important to Javier and to Maria. So long as it could be true, so long as he can plant enough doubt, he makes it unlikely that Maria will do anything about it, and he gets to be painted not entirely definitively the villain in the eyes of what is now his chief (besides Ruiberriz) witness.

Terry wrote: "María has her own picture of herself, as we all do, but perhaps that picture is less close to reality than some. She is certainly less passive, less prudent, less background, than she imagines herself, or purports, to be."

As you so rightly say, this is probably true of us all...

Terry wrote: "When she is behind the door, she sees the danger of her infatuation slipping away from her. A man who will kill for the object of his affection will not give it up lightly. On the outside of this plot, she will be cast aside (remember her fantasising about the perfect couple, the idea that they should at least tell her if they were about to go away, that the worst thing would be to just not see them again), just not called after one occasion, never even knowing that it is her last."

An excellent point: María will soon be left exactly where she feared she might end up. Having manoeuvred (or been manoeuvred) herself into a central position she will now suffer the fate of Desvern and slip away into obscurity. History is about to repeat itself. If character is destiny is this where María will always find herself?

It's odd, but even as the central voice, the narrator, Maria seems to me to be a secondary character, an observer even when taking action.

I thought Marias handled Maria's feelings of love, affection, trust,and fear brilliantly, taking me on a ride with them. I was particularly struck by this feat since for the most part, Marias is a writer of ideas, very cerebral and not so emotional.

Perhaps he conveys the colder feelings best-affection more than passion, dread more acutely than terror.

Back to your question, Sophia. I think Maria will always be slipping into obscurity even as we are listening to her voice.

Ellie wrote: I think Maria will always be slipping into obscurity even as we are listening to her voice.

I love this observation. Even though we are seeing everything in the book from Maria's point of view, it is still hard to think of Maria as a "main character."

Does this have anything to do with the book being narrated by a woman in a predominantly male world?

Is it pertinent that when María has to decide whether she will emerge from the bedroom wearing only her skirt her thoughts are primarily focused on her body and her sexuality? Do thoughts like these occur elsewhere in the book?