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Discussion: Daughters of the Stone
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First, I will pose some questions designed to get us started, but I offer them as a jumping off point. What's most important is for us to talk with each other about what we really found rich and deep, or questionable or interesting about the novel. Instead of posting all the questions up front and risking spoilers, I want to try 'seeding' the discussion with questions all month long. If you prefer to guide your reading with a full list of questions up front, the publisher's reading guide is at http://www.llanosfigueroa.com/daughte...
Second, I want to acknowledge that folks will start reading the book at different times and will read along at different speeds. I'll do two things to respect this:
1) I will clearly introduce each new chapter and questions every fifth day:
(Fela 2/1, Mati 2/5, Concha 2/10, etc.).
2) Since this novel is told in five interlocking stories, I want to be careful of spoiling the plot for others. If you have a comment that contains info about something that happens farther along in the plot than the posted chapter, kindly start your comment with "spoiler alert."
I have really run the gamut of opinions toward this book while first reading it. I love the discussions here and I can't wait to re-read it with you and to hear what you think!



The prologue of Daughters of the Stone begins: “These are the stories. My stories, their stories – just as they were told to my mother and her mother and hers. They were given to me for safekeeping, and now I give them to you.”
Who are YOU in relation to this story?
• What parts of this story are familiar to you? What parts are completely new?
• Did you know much about Afro-Puerto Rican culture before reading this novel?
• How does this story speak to you as a man? As a woman?
• Does the occasional use of Spanish phrases make you feel like an 'insider' or an 'outsider'? (If you read The Book of Night Women, is this similar to your experience of encountering Jamaican patois?)
--Mistinguette S


Each book of Daughters of the Stone is presented as a cuento - a 'once upon a time' tale in the tradtional form of rural Puerto Rico -- rather than as historia, an historical narrative. Why? What impact did this choice of style have on you as a reader?
These questions are plaguing me as I read this novel. Did anybody else have this reaction? My first impression was "This is a Young Adult novel! Why am I reading this in a LitFict group? I was expecting something more ...well, literary!" Then I had to think about my own fancypants lit-major criteria for Fine Literature, and whose voices are excluded by it.
I'm still undecided about whether Daughters is just not great writing, or if my internalized ethnocentrism keeps me from hearing the orality of West African griot tales and jíbaro cuentos (country folktales) as 'legitimate' literary forms. Is anybody else struggling with this?



Fela is a bozal - an enslaved woman who was born in Africa. Her name in Yoruba means "warrior ". She does not share the language, religion or culture of the Hispanic ladino island-born slaves. Does Fela ring true as a flesh and blood woman to you? As an ancestor figure? An archetype? As something else?
My own reaction: Fela exemplifies what I grew up hearing was the essential nature of strong black womanhood: silent, noble, wise and invulnerable to suffering. As a black woman, I constantly struggle to balance between my aspirations to the strength of this mythical ancestress – she who could squat down by the riverside and give birth all by herself, then get back in the field the next day – with the great harm and self-destruction such expectations cause. I would really love to hear how other black women readers responded to this character, especially those who haven’t yet finished the book.

(I know that some folks haven't gotten this far in the book yet, but I'll post some questions to keep sparking discussion among those who have.)
True to her Biblical namesake, Tía Josefa a serves as step-parent to the gifted Mati.
- What kinds of mothering does she offer to the young orphaned Mati?
- What kinds of maternal guidance does she fail to give her? Why?
- How does Tía Josefa's inability to serve as her spiritual madrina affect Mati’s adult life?
- Mistinguette S

I can't say that I'm a very big fan of this book. The style of writing left me cold...such hyperbole..so many hearts exploding!....bodies numbed!...and rioting feelings!...of the five books the first 2 held my interest the most with the folktales and magic realism and supernatural passages...Llanos' move to the more modern world where there are situations of recent memory left me scratching my head wondering where the movies with the scenes she described were playing.. It also seemed to suddenly switch direction from the magical elements described earlier to a more pedestrian tale of an immigrant worker and her frustrated novelist of a daughter...Where did the magic stone disappear to??!
But I don't want to give too much of the latter part of the book away.
My first impression of the first and second "books' was that I was reading "The Book of Night Women" "lite". James' tale with the good/bad (depending on ones perspective) taken out. Tia Josefa certainly had her counterpart in Homer in Night Women. I thought it was a promising and auspicious beginning. But Fela's sudden unexplained disappearance (I figured she was dead but a little allusion to or exposition of the fact would have been nice) was a portent of the many starts and stops and sudden direction changes I found to be detrimental to the flow of the book.

I can't say that I'm a very big fan of this..."
I think the "switch" may also be reflective of the loss of certain traditions as new generations emerge.

Question: perhaps things were different in the 18th century but would any man who KNEW that his girlfriend had anger issues and would break his thighbone by just thinking of it when she got mad and DID IT. Would that man then come back walking with a limp and move back in and marry that girlfriend??
That passage gave me my first inclination that the book was a bit much for me.

as for Mati and her friend, well I think I'd have a few second thoughts as well. But, then I think it's easier for me to get far away, and who knows what she could or would do next? of course, I've never met the woman for that matter, so I can't truely say what I would do. In any case, it seems to me he did not blame her alone and did not think it was entirely intentional. And, of course, while the injury kept him from what he was previously doing, in the end it led him into a far richer, more self-fulfilling life than he would have had otherwise.
I did think that there would be more of the supernatural in the last two women. Yes, they did get away from their traditions, but the family line was still touched by the stone and the link to the goddess. perhaps that loss was intended to be symbolic of the ultimate loss of ties and culture from Africa, which it appears the final character is trying to restore, or regain. perhaps there is a new griot story in her future.

I agree that Fela and Mati's cuentos are meant to be archtypal, and reflective of how the story of slavery and African identity has been silenced and suppressed in Puerto Rican culture. In that respect the narrative works for me, but it is not creative, evocative literature.
I think that Toni's observation that the leap from mythological cuento into personal historia in the succeeding chapters is exactly "reflective of the loss of certain traditions as new generations emerge". Certainly Mati's careless use of her spiritual and healing powers is related to growing up with no one to teach her about her history or about the careful use of such power.
But Mati's story is neither historical nor instructive, like a true griot story. It tells about the destruction that happens when we do not know our history (like accidentally hurting those we love), but leaves the reader with no clue about how to restore that broken lineage unless you happen to inherit a magical stone (whose symbolism is unclear). Unlike a griot tale, Fela and Mati's stories do not instruct the reader about how to heal what has been broken, or how to move forward in the face of such a loss.

Any desires or suggestions about how to proceed?
(As for me, I really want to talk about the meaning of Concha's feet...)


The two-hour program showcased the national Go On Girl! Book Club and featured interviews with a number of authors chosen for their reading list, including several whom we have read as well, including group member Carleen Brice and Attica Locke, in addition to Jewel Parker Rhodes, Ravi Howard and others. You can hear the whole program at:
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/black-au...



I didn't see Fela in quite the same way that you did, Mistinguettes. She was certainly silent - she was unable to speak because of mutilation. But she seemed neither noble nor wise to me - just lost. She seemed completely unable to adjust to her circumstances and felt responsible for what happened to her husband, her village, and herself. She sets one task for herself - producing her child - then she lies down and dies. Rather than invulnerable to suffering, she seemed lost in suffering and feeling deserving of punishment by the gods.
Speaking of the gods, it was hard for me to feel comfortable with a god that would demand that a woman who had just given birth, die and orphan her child. I understand that other cultures do have harsh gods, but that concept was unthinkable to me. Perhaps the demand to die was just in her own mind, but, still, I believe that a strong woman would try to live to care for her child. To me, Fela just seemed too broken and lost to go on.

You know, Mina, I expect the gods to be harsh? My premise is that they are unfeeling, amoral and use us for their own ends. I suppose that comes from being steeped in classical mythology in childhood. In catechism class I was taught that the New Testament god was a different kettle of fish.

1) In Yoruba religion, there is one God, in the same way that monotheist religions think of God. There are also "gods" or orishas that are more like saints: manifestations of particular aspects of God. You could think of them as like avatars (like in Hinduism, not like the movie!) Oshun - The Lady who appears repeatedly in DOTS - is such an orisha or goddess.
2) In the Haïtian version of New World Yoruba religion, there is a goddess related to Oshun named Erzuli Dantor, who is a warrior. (Remember that Fela’s name means warrior). Erzuli Dantor's tongue has been cut out for acts of rebelllion, and she is unable to speak in words. Still, Dantor refuses to succumb spiritually or psychologically to the state of enslavement: she will die rather than be unfree. (Remember that Fela is a bozal , a word which means both "a slave born in Africa" and "wild and unbroken"). Dantor is depicted in Haïti with the image of Our Lady of Czecstochowa, a brown-faced Madonna-and-child who has African warrior marks on her face, and a female child on her lap who holds a book. Erzuli Dantor is the goddess/divine manifestation of fiercely protecting the love between mothers and daughters.
- Does knowing more about pre-colonial African religion, or the story of Erzuli Dantor, make you read this story differently?
- Why does Llanos-Figuero base her story in a New World African cosmology instead of a colonized/ Christianized one? Does she do it effectively? If not, what would have made it more effective?
- If you have finished the book: Does knowing that Erzuli Dantor has one daughter who is holding a book change the way you understand DOTS?
- The primary theme of Daughters of the Stone is motherlessness, particularly the way that slavery permanently distorted and destroyed mother-daughter bonds. Does this disruption still show up in the lives of women of African descent today?
I know that was a really long post, y’all. But if we can't step into this world view, I think we risk misunderstanding and erasing the African identity of Llanos-Figueroa’s characters -- in the same way that Llanos-Figueroa’s African heritage is misunderstood and erased in Puerto Rican culture.
Which has everything to do with Conchita's feet...

Thank you for this information. I am familiar with some aspects of the Yoruba religion (which was the main reason I picked up this book), but haven't done as much studying on the Haitian side of things. Knowing about Erzuli Dantor enriches the story for me.


1) In Yoruba..."
It wasn't too long at all, Mistinguettes, and it certainly is revealing about Fela's character. I, too, am familiar with some aspects of the Yoruba religion (orishas, etc.) but I have never heard of Erzuli Dantor. That explains a lot - thank you!


I agree, Mistinguettes. You're an asset.

I can definatley see some character and storyline line parallells for me just having read Book of Night Women. Although enjoyment and impressions by reading James were much more magnificent for me.
Romero and Don Aurelio's relationship seems similar to the relationship of Master Humphrey and Robert Quinn. But wondered if Fela and Lilth are?

I can see why you said (on Feb 6) that Fela is an archetype (the unbowed slave), but why do you say that of Mati? Hers is the longest story in the novel, extending well into Concha's book; we see her from the time of her birth until the time of her death. She matures from a relatively sheltered girl to a matriarch who makes a free community possible and dies in the service of that community (assuming that's why she's in her consultation room during the hurricane). Her story seems particularly rich; she is certainly not without flaws. So what's the archetype?
About Concha's feet--the way I read her story, her feet give her a "direct line" to Oshun and the pleasures and power of earthly existence. The description reminds me of attending a workshop where I was taught that "singing starts in your feet." She doesn't seem to need the stone in the same way that Mati does.


Apologies for my absences of late - I have been dealing with travel & power interruptions during this intense winter weather.
Looking back over our posts, it seems we've gone from anticipating that we would like Daughters of the Stone to feeling disappointed and confused by it. I started out not liking the book much, but appreciating it more on a second read-through.
Although our discussion will continue, I'd like to close the month by offering a few questions about the book as a whole:
1) If Fela is a powerful ancestor figure, Mati is her all-too-human daughter, struggling with the role of heritage-keeper with no mother or culture to guide her. Is the story of Mati so brief because it is so painful? Is it the author's imagination that fails to help us make the transition from slavery to freedom, or is it the lack of historia about the African presence in Puerto Rican culture ?
2) Each chapter of DOTS is about the tension between love and power. Mati is so untrained in using her power that she injures Cheo, then pushes him away by focusing all her work on healing others. Concha tightly laces up her powerful feet into shoes, leaving behind her ability to speak, heal, or to be in relationship with Antonio. Elena is estranged from her husband Pedro, until he gives in and follows her to America. Carisa mostly witnesses the story of other loves, and chooses her journey to West Africa over following Adrian.
-What patterns about women, love and power show up here? How are these related to the heritage of slavery?
-What does “too black, too strong” mean in the context of these women’s lives?
-How is the relationship between men and women shaped by colonial Spanish ideals and African heritage?
3) If you didn't like DOTS: Do you agree with Professor Stevens that "this is a a mass of superstitious nonsense, clichéd ghosts and goblins" and not "high-quality literary work'? How much of your dislike for DOTS was the style of story: a blend of history, invention of history that has been lost, and the magical conventions of cuento ?
4) If you were interested in the parallels between DOTS and the story of Erzuli Dantor: Dantor is mute; her daughter Anaïs is depicted as holding a book and is said to "speak for" Dantor.
-Does Carisa/Anaïs speak well for Fela/Dantor?
-Does she tell her story faithfully?
-Is it told in a way that is useful to Afro-Puertoricans of today?

I am facinated by the ways that people of African descent in diaspora often lose the source of our power when we leave the land - even when that land was also the site of our enslavement. Concha embodies the jibara puertoriqueña culture (what African-Americans would call “being country”). When she decides to wear shoes, to assimilate, to be modern, Concha loses her relationship to the land and her power as a cuandera.
Did you think there is a relationship between losing her sanity and these other losses? Is this story unique to Concha, or does it symbolize a cultural insanity that happens when we deny black, rural culture? I loved that DOTS speaks to the whole cultural idea that “black women ain’t got time to break down/ go crazy”; I loved that the story makes clear that western psychotherapy may treat individual mental health disorders, but lacks the power to heal cultural & spiritual illness.
For those who know Yoruba religion: Concha’s name means shell: in candomblé , the cowrie and conch shell represent the orisha Yemayá, and Concha literally encases her feet in a shell. During her mental breakdown, Concha is “healed” from a warrior daughter of Oshun/Erzulie into a peaceful daughter of Yemayá. Did this ring true to you? And what does this mean for her lineage? Did you think that leaving behind her warrior-spirit was just another way of trying to leave behind her African heritage? Or did I miss something? (OK, I was kinda of ticked off by this.)
DOTS is clearly a Sankofa story - one that looks back and brings the seed of an African past forward to strengthen the present. Why does it take two whole generations - it has to walk from Concha’s feet to Elena’s journey to Carisa’s quest - for this story to be retrieved and written? That two-generation pattern repeats itself through the book, so I’m sure it has meaning but I can’t figure it out.
Mistinguette S

Wasn't Professor Stephen a fictional critic of fictional characters in a fictional manuscript? If you ask if our Goodreads objections to this books lapses and failings are the same as his, isn't that a particularly stinky kettle of fish? Shouldn't every author just preempt criticism by putting a Professor Stephens in their story? As a matter of fact that was one of the lowlights of the book in that she seemed to try to ward off any criticism of the book by introducing a fictional character that critisized it: a preemptive, "movie within a movie" if you will. I'd like to give it another chance, given all of the rich back story that you have givien us, Mistiguettes, but under the heading' " So many books, so little time" probably not.
But I don't want to sound completely negative..I did enjoy the first third or 2 "books" of the story...the extended hospitalization and sudden mother-in-law from hell and feckless husband is what did it for me. The same story in a more talented writers hand might have been a five star in my opinion.

Oh, how I love a good, stinky kettle of fish! This is a great point, William: why is the well-known POV of mainstream cultural criticism included via the character of Professor Stephen, but the absolutely essential back-story about the suppression of African heritage in Puerto Rican culture, including the ongoing practice of Yoruba religion, omitted? Not even a glossary or an afterword?
Wilhelmina noted earlier that Llanos-Figueroa said that the book had been much longer originally, but that, in order to have it published, she had to make extensive cuts. Few writers are their own best editors, and I can't help but wonder if a skilled editor would have made a difference. But I can only read the book that was published, not the author's original intent.
Which leads me back to my original question: Who are YOU in relation to this story? To whom is the author writing, and why?

M. also said, "DOTS is clearly a Sankofa story - one that looks back and brings the seed of an African past forward to strengthen the present." I wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps the author's intended audience consists of the wandering descendants of Fela who would know her story and need to reclaim it. If she's including all of us, I think that we, like Carisa, needed some guidance to make that leap. An edition of this book with footnotes by Mistinguettes would be very helpful!
Please continue with any comments you have about this book. February may be over, but the discussion can go on!


Although I am flattered to hear that my comments were helpful, I think that this speaks to the ultimate inaccessibility of the book. If the author's intention was to give us the untold stories of Afro-Boriquen heritage, it might have been more accessible if she had written them as a well-developed novel; however, a narrative of that scope is a tall order for a first-time novelist. DOTS just read like the coming-of-age memoir-disguised-as-fiction that is most writers' first book.
It didn't help to read this right after Book of Night Women, where the author had such fine command of his craft. As much as I loved examining the themes, structures and cultural references in DOTS, I didn't enjoy the actual reading of it very much.


Scheduled to air in late 2011, its purpose is to educate about the African Diaspora in Latin America and to celebrate the AfroLatino culture. See a trailer at
http://vimeo.com/8974846

www.WNYC.org for more info
Books mentioned in this topic
Daughters of the Stone (other topics)Authors mentioned in this topic
Attica Locke (other topics)Carleen Brice (other topics)
Ravi Howard (other topics)
Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa (other topics)
Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa was born in Puerto Rico and raised in New York City. She is a product of the Puerto Rican communities on the island and in the South Bronx. She attended the NYC public school system and got her academic degrees from SUNY-Buffalo and Queens College. As a child she was sent to live with her grandparents in Puerto Rico where she was introduced to the culture of rural Puerto Rico, including the storytelling that came naturally to the women, especially the older women, in her family. Much of her work is based on her experiences during this time. Dahlma taught creative writing, language and literature in the New York City School system before becoming a young adult librarian. She has also taught creative writing to teenagers, adults and senior citizens throughout NYC while honing her own skills as a fiction writer and memoirist. Since her retirement, she has dedicated herself to her writing. Dahlma lives in the Bronx with her husband, Jonathan Lessuck.
http://www.llanosfigueroa.com/
Her website also contains the following statement from the author:
I was a black, Puerto Rican female in a world that insisted that I be one or the other and valued none of those parts of me. After years of trying to fit my round self into a square world, I gave up. Those rules made no sense to me. And so I began to write my world, my way.
Happy reading!