Yeah, that one, The House of the Spirits (or La Casa de los Espiritus).
 |
| Yeah, hetero-ick, move on. |
Well, I saw it again last night--but properly this time, you know. Meaning from beginning to credits without the pesky, self-absorbed parochiality of my teenage mind. And it was just as good as the first time, omitting some major, glaring discrepancies with the characters' race. (Seriously, did no one question having the whitest, gringo-est actors cast as the main characters? Really?)
Except there was just this tiny, little thing that stood out this time. A rather inconsequential detail within the scope of the book, but still. And not to glaze over the other aspects of the film, or the book for that matter, because those are probably more noteworthy (although I actually do), but...
HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME THAT GLENN CLOSE'S CHARACTER CRUSHES ON MERYL STREEP'S CHARACTER, HER SISTER-IN-LAW, IN THIS FILM/BOOK???
 |
| Glenn/Meryl? My world just imploded. |
Where was I? Why do I even live? Does this count as hitting the lesbian jackpot yet? And did you know?
Because I sure didn't, and it came flying at me out of nowhere with enough force to tilt Uranus' axis back straight.
I summarize and include the following clips for your viewing pleasure and judgment.
Férula, Close's character, is the devout, self-ordained caregiver of the film/book, and an uptight, repressed woman who lives an ascetic life caring for her ailing mother. She is the sister of Esteban Trueba, who has his mind set on marrying Clara (Streep), a beautiful and sprite-like clairvoyant. At first, Férula is opposed to the union because she thinks Clara is incompetent and unsuitable for her brother who, she argues, needs someone that will devote their entire existence to him. But he's made up his mind. So Férula takes it upon herself to meet Clara.
But, unexpectedly, she is captivated by Clara's peculiar allure--a combination of naivety, purity, and the promise of unconditional love--when the latter invites her into her and Esteban's home. And from that point on, Clara, who breathes life and happiness into Férula's heretofore austere life, becomes the be all and end all of her sister-in-law's existence.
Before we know it, Férula does everything in her power to monopolize Clara's time, anything to keep the couple apart. She spoils her, bathes her, and helplessly watches her sleep. She even, um, listens to them having sex sometimes. (Give her a break; the internet didn't happen until forty years later, guys. A woman's got to get her rockers off somehow.) So, yeah, she's pretty gay for Clara.
And the tension is palpable between Férula and Esteban, who resents having to share the attentions of his blithely oblivious wife. The antipathy culminates when Esteban comes home to find her sleeping beside Clara in their bed, and accusing her of perversion and lesbian wiles, finally banishes her from their home. And thus exits Férula. Carla isn't happy at all, but she gets over it eventually.
The next time we see Férula is also the last time as she has died and appears as a spirit to Clara. Clara finds her at last and, with all the love Férula had given her, prepares her body for her funeral.
So that's the entirety of the Férula/Carla storyline. It leaves some questions to be asked though.
Did Férula really have romantic feelings for Carla? Or was it extreme gratitude to someone who loved her unconditionally, to someone who didn't mind being fussed over by Férula? In the novel, her mother's death left Férula purposeless, alone, and a void filled her life, which she attempted to fill by caretaking for Esteban next. When he brusquely rejects her, her anxiety is tangible, but luckily for her, her sister-in-law is more than willing to fill that void. Living with Clara, she finds a purpose for her life--that is, devotion to Clara--and her affections teeter on the edge between platonic love and obsessive love. Is she jealous of Esteban for being what she herself cannot be to Clara, a romantic partner? Or is she, being a virgin spinster, jealous of the emotional and physical connection they share? Whatever the true nature of Férula's feeling, what stands out in all this is that both the siblings have an similar fixation with Clara, and that is to possess all of her without much consideration for Clara's own wishes.
The other big question is whether Carla loved her, like that, or whether she was even aware of Férula's feelings or not. From watching the movie and a cursory reading of the novel, given her supernatural inclinations, it's highly unlikely that she wouldn't know of the passionate nature of Férula's feelings for her. Even in spite of her other-worldliness, that separate ethereal realm her mind perpetually seems to reside in as her body occupies the physical one, she was incredibly present and astute where her loved ones were concerned. But it is precisely this quality in Clara that lures, yet elevates her out of the reach of those who love her. While I don't think Clara loved Férula romantically per se, I do think that she loved her in a spiritual way that cannot be translated into mere prose.
As a final note, I was frankly surprised by the portrayal of a lesbian(ish) character in a novel that is as much about the social and political upheavals of Chile in the twentieth century, as it is about timeless human experiences of love and struggles. I look forward to finding more literature in Spanish with lesbian portrayals, so I'd love to hear recommendations if anyone has come across good ones.
But just once more: SERIOUSLY? NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT THIS?!
No comments:
Post a Comment