Back to the Future: Mothers, Languages, and Homes in Cristina Garcia's Dreaming in Cuban ROCÍO G. DAVIS The complex discourse of the mother-daughter relationship, as well as the imaginative inscrip- tion of the lost homeland, occupies a prominent place in the thematics of immigrant literature in the United States. Ethnic writing in general often reflects gender conflicts transmitted through culturally con- structed but frequently misinterpreted roles, specifically those of mothers. Emblematic novels such as Maxine Hong Kingston's Woman Warrior and Toni Morrison Beloved revolve around ambivalent relationships with the mother or mother figure, as well as other female members of the family. These texts are frequently narrat- ed by protagonists who must necessarily deal with the implications of specific maternal discourse (or the lack thereof) in the process of self-identification and affirma- tion. The place of the mother -- personally, socially, cul- turally -- directs, modifies, and influences the daugh- ters' responses to both individual and cultural demands. Ethnic texts such as these highlight questions of identifi- cation with and differentiation from the mother, empha- sizing a need for understanding and bonding between mothers and daughters as a fundamental step toward self-awareness and mastery of the culture. Often the texts imply the need for the daughter to take on and continue maternal stories, transforming them literally and metaphorically with their own lives and experiences. Cultural inscriptions by ethnic women offer an inter- esting analysis of the hermeneutics of female representa- tion and access to the world, yet cannot be divorced from forms of orientation toward the mother or fore- mother. The pattern of the maternal figure as origin and daughter as perpetuation, extension, or completion repeatedly appears as a necessary starting point to the drama of the tenuous negotiation of identity and difference within the ambivalent universe of filiality. As Nancy Chodorow has pointed out, "In any given society, feminine personality comes to define itself in relation and connection to other people more than masculine personality does" (44). Emphasis on relationships leads to a reevaluation of personal and communal tragedies that oblige the daughters to look back to the mothers, whose image and personality are often inseparable from community history and values. These texts often involve a return to the maternal, which leads to the appreciation of community history and forging of communal bonds with, first, the immediate family and then the larger gender and cultural group. The novel here analyzed, Cristina García Dreaming in Cuban, centers on the complicated negotiations of mother-daughter bonds. Garcia tells the stories of three generations of Cuban women and their experiences with revolution and immigration through a blending of first- and third-person narrations, with epistolary sections that convey the rich texture of intersecting positionalities and overlapping worlds. At the center of the novel is Pilar Puente, born in Cuba and raised in Brooklyn, who must deal with her antipathetic relationship with her mother, Lourdes, and her longing for her grandmother, Celia. Similarly, Lourdes and Felicia, Celia's two daugh- ters, struggle to unravel their complex ties with their mother as well as those with their own daughters. The novel thus presents a composite portrait of diverse mother-daughter relationships, offering a multiperspec- tive vision of the possibilities for division and unity, adaptation and adjustment, separation and bonding. The mother-daughter dance of approach and withdrawal is mirrored in the separate and interrelated sections on each of the characters, the shifts in temporality, geogra- phy, and narrative voice illustrating the tangled web of affinity between and among the characters and their homelands. In the tradition of breaking silence that has become one of the shaping myths in ethnic writing by women, maternal storytelling becomes a medium of self-inscrip- tion and subjectivity, as well as an instrument of inter- subjectivity and dialogue. The separate accounts of all the characters, mothers and daughters, are converted into chronicles of individual empowerment and self- affirmation. García opts for a narrative stance that includes multiple voices, offering individual versions of events and engaging in complex dialogues. There is, fur- ther, a sense of collectivity in the text, according to which the diverse voices that speak discern self-referen- tial hints at definition through the juxtaposition of the other voices in the narrative. The concept of the isolated self is continually questioned, as the individual accounts -60- |