Customer Reviews

Days of Obligation: An Argument with My Mexican Father

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In this and his other collection of personal essays, "Hunger of Memory," Richard Rodriguez describes how becoming an American has been an experience much like Alice's trip through the looking glass. It has distanced him from his Mexican-born parents and separated him almost entirely from his Mexican roots. The central idea running through many of these thoughtful, earnest essays is a heightened awareness of the differences between our public and private lives. They also focus on the impact of education on himself and his siblings as children of Spanish-speaking immigrants.

After reading his books, nothing about becoming American seems as simple as it's often represented in popular fiction and movies. You see, for example, how learning English and the way Americans use it immediately create cultural conflicts. Rodriguez' parents had valued education as a way to get ahead in America. Ironically, the greater success he experienced in school, the further he became removed from the world of his parents.

Still a boy, he lost the ability to converse in Spanish. Becoming a public figure in the English-speaking world, he seemed to betray his ethnic background, which valued privacy and separateness from the English-speaking (gringo) world. Ironically, for all his achievements as an "American," Rodriguez learns that because of his background, he remains in many ways an outsider. Lacking a middle class upbringing, he has passed through the educational system as a "scholarship boy." This term, borrowed from Richard Hoggart's book "The Uses of Literacy," describes the son of working class parents who is granted the privilege of a middle class education, but while rising above his humble origins, never fully transcends them.

The political positions Rodreguez takes as an adult flow as a logical extension from the experiences that shaped him -- especially the benefits of the education he received in a private school. Later there were the benefits that came to him as a "minority student" -- advantages he considered unwarranted. Concerned by poverty in America and the underfunding of schools that would help end poverty, he takes positions that have been unpopular among many educators. In these essays, he challenges the assumptions underlying both affirmative action and bilingual education.

Rodriguez writes with great clarity, and his sentences seem crafted with considerable care. He wants very much to say precisely what he means. And this cannot have been always easy, as many of his ideas grapple with both irony and paradox. Often you read paragraphs that seem to have been thought through deeply, then carefully written and rewritten. The care that he takes in writing these essays reflects a wish to be read carefully. Those who have found reason to be offended, angered, or "bored" by his ideas are evidence that he touches on a great many sensitive issues.

This book is more of a dialogue rather than an argument. A passionate mesmerizing dialogue with the past and present perceived realities of the author's cultural heritage. I saw Richard Rodriguez at a televised University presentation. His ability to respond to questions from the students and faculty with relaxed patience and stunning oratory was impressive. That is why I purchased this book. A man of knowledge and accomplishment, who has something to say, and knows how to say it. I wanted to learn more from him. That same quality of knowledge permeates this book which is filled with unsurpassed images of Mexico, Spain and California. Mr Rodriguez revisits this historical blend of cultures that produced him and invites us to also participate in this dialogue of perceptions. He bares his inner most thoughts, his agony and his pride. Well worth reading. Take your time, and savor the sights, sounds and existence of a beautiful people; then and now.

Rodriguez' previous book, Hunger of Memory, was a valuable account of the cultural schizophrenia many Latinos go through--i.e., Spanish vs English, Catholic vs Protestant, Old World vs New World. What was so damn infuriating about that book was Rodriguez' closeted, timid tone. Every word was carefully weighed, the tone as dead, as academic as the world he kissed up to and was, hence, rewarded by. He was so careful not to be vulgar or hasty in his judgments that he came off stiff and ponderous. Anyone put off by his arguments could have rejected them on the basis of his style alone. If this is what kowtowing to the Protestant academic establishment does to you, I'll gladly remain a backward, brash Latino any day. In Days of Obligation, Rodriguez has loosened up considerably but not always with the best of results. His fondness for colorful adjectives and adverbs makes his writing here frequently dense and knotty. One thinks, "Hmmm, what a beautiful description--what it means, I haven't the vaguest idea." He amplifies his cultural survey here with mixed results: his description of Mexican society is rich and meaty; however, I could have done without yet another breezy dismissal of superficial L.A. in a subsequent chapter. And his unwillingness in the chapter on San Francisco to address his own sexuality is rather tiresome; he seems rather an old-fashioned nelly in his reluctance to state the obvious. And the book's organization is a mess--nothing holds together; it all seems rather disconnected. And what exactly the argument with his father is is unclear since he ends up coming to the same conclusions. He's an odd mixture of a writer: raised with the progressive optimism of the U.S. but by temperament more attuned to the cynicism and resignation of Latin culture. Still, this book shows him to be far more human and interesting a writer than the dry, careful prose of Hunger of Memory suggests. In Days of Obligation, the hunger is at least partially sated.

Rodriguez sinks his teeth into the juicy apple of race and somehow pulls off enlightening concrete distinctions between the single extant species of Homo sapiens remaining on earth. Essentially (and we allow here for the purposes of discussion some generalities) Rodriguez asserts that Americans/Northern Europeans are divorced psychologically from their historically inseparable neighbors, the Mexicans/Indians, because the Americans/Northern Europeans represent masculine, aggressive, individualistic, Protestant, optimistic, or "comic" values. The passive, Catholic, communal, familial, feminine value systems of the Mexicans/Indians he terms "tragic." (The tragic race, incidentally, is much happier and less medicated, etc., it's so substantially less destructive and selfish.) I grew up in Southern California, lived in Mexico for a few years, and three years ago married a Mexican woman, so I epitomize the fabulous collision of opposite worlds that this book describes (and really helped me to understand). Gorgeously composed, arrogantly honest, and a whole lot more. Intellectually one of the ten most important books of the last two decades. When I admire a book I immediately read it again. I read this one three times.

Richard Rodriguez, is, to say the least, a dense writer. His prose overflows with allusions to the demonic Romantic founder William Blake, work ethic orientated Victorian philosopher Thomas Carlyle, with small dash of natural theologian St. Thomas Aquinas, among others. And these are only the obvious references to me. Add that to classical literature, Roman Catholic philosophy, pre and post lapsearian filters on the role of Mexican Americans in the United States, and you have a philosophical self examination that rivals Dante Alighieri. "Days of Obligation" is a purposely dense, complex, at times conciliatory and confusing allegory of examination of self via international relations. Rodriguez attempts to unravel the relationship between Mexico and California as he unravels his own relationship with the native land of his parents.

He opens his collection with his travels with a BBC crew to find his roots. He feels alienated in a place where everyone assumes he would feel most comfortable. This feeling of alienation continues throughout the collection, and extends to his observations of alienation of those around him. Father Huerta is alienated from others because of his yearning to reunite the body and head of Joaquín Murrieta. The disillusion between the tú and usted forms in Mexico. The alienation that he feels from his family. More optimistic about his life's potential than his fathers cynicism, more comfortable than his mother who dreams about better days in Mexico.

What I found most interesting about this collection is that it seemed, whether intentional or not, to follow basic Blakean philosophy. He makes a reference to a "Blakean angel" in "Late Victorians", which to me implies that he had some conscience effort go into that. One of the tenets of William Blakes philosophy is often misunderstood as duality, but its actually the opposite. In a simplified sense, Blake believed that people are neither good or bad, but both good and bad at the same time. And I think that is how Rodriguez sees himself in this collection. He is neither American nor is Mexican, he is both, living in both worlds, unable to fully commit to one or the either.

Another interesting thing that I noticed was an emphasis on work. Thomas Carlyle wrote that work was therapeutic, purification process, that made people more focused. Rodriguez seems to play on that idea in a satirical tone in `Late Victorians' when he writes that "Body building is a parody of labor, a useless accumulation of the laborer's bulk and strength" Rodriguez seems to believe that there should a reason for work, but this is such an obscure allusion that I'm not sure what to do with it. The book seems to continue with this theme also, but there is nothing specifically that I can point out that seems to obviously fit with that model.

I brought up Thomas Aquinas because Rodriguez is a Catholic apologist. As well as a gay man. I thought that tied up into the Blakean philosophy quiet well. Two forces that are generally seen as opposing forces coexisting in one being at the same time in the same place. He is constantly defending the Church, something that I'm sure many people would find perplexing giving the Church's position on homosexuality.

I greatly enjoyed the book. It was unlike any other non fiction that I have read. It doesn't concern itself with the typical "I feel--" statements that generally profusely overflow in contemporary non fiction. His style is reminiscent of Alexander Pope in a way--dense and literal at the same time; pretentious and personal. There is no doubt that his postulations will cause some people to walk away puzzled. He has no yearning to return to Mexico, as some people may assume, but is more than willing to admit that he does not understand the country as much as he would like. He's more than willing to, and does, to write above the average readers head. This alone is what most likely turn readers off. Unless one has a background in ethnic studies, theology, or English literature, the metaphors, references and allusions will go over the everyday readers head. But research into whatever questions the reader has will ultimately make reading the collection a richer experience.

Over all, I enjoyed the book, and when my next pay period comes in, I know that I will make a few purchases of his other works to get a greater understanding of his writing. And that is one of the greatest compliment I think that any writer can receive.

Speaking from several points of view: as (1) a writer, (2) a memoirist, and (3) a reader who falls utterly in love with books that bring me to other worlds, I need to say this: Are you kidding, marketplace?!?!?!?

This book is listed the half-millionth best-selling book on Amazon. That is just wrong.

This book is a highlight of American literature. NOT just late-20th-century literature, not just Latino/Hispanic/whatever literature; but the big overarching all-things-considered American literature. Mark Twain is good. Richard Rodriquez is good; his is the American literature high school students, for one, should be reading. Writers: This book taught me the most about a graceful style that could include ANY content.

As always, Rodriguez is articulate and freshly inciteful, but by comparison to his earlier work "Hunger of Memory", "Days of Obligation" is less captivating. One wonders if in fact all the controversy surrounding the author and the attacks waged against him did not effect a political retreat from his earlier views (which were taken at face value as attacking Mexican "immigrant" culture as "static" and introvertive, while promoting Americanization as progressive). It appears the book is a more bland, and for that less "confrontational" search for identity, and roots. Ultimately, though the author, perhaps unconsciously elucidates the alienation that some Mexicans who've "made it" or become significantly acculturated into the American mainstream feel as a new breed. Not to say the least but although the book is beautifully poetic at times, and quite expressive, capturing in words feelings that for many of Mexican (or other recently immigrant) background have been locked away deeply for fear of remembering, much of the book's subjects are not immediately memorable the way much of "Hunger" was. In this book the author seems to be indirectly apologizing for his earlier views, or at best ineffectively trying to clarify his earlier position on the value and importance of Mexican culture

Richard Rodriguez is a gifted writer. He words are almost lyrical at times and at points, Days of Obligation is simply a beautiful experience to read.

In Days of Obligation, Rodriguez struggles with so many facets of himself -- notably, his ethnic heritage, his sexuality, his sense of guilt at the chasm between who he is and who he has been told to be by parents and his church. I believe there is a universal element to Rodriguez' struggles. They are the challenges that all human beings encounter in becoming their own unique selves.

The added dimension of Rodriguez' Mexican heritage, makes this story all the more fascinating. A wonderful book to have us think about being ourselves in a world full of others expectations as well as an opportunity to get a closer view of Mexican ethnic influences and the related struggles in a United States where far too many people forget they themselves are immigrants or children of immigrants.

A highly enjoyable book from many perspectives.

James J. Maloney
Saint Paul, Minnesota USA

Richard Rodriguez is a Californian in the best sense of the word, and his book, Days of Obligation: An Argument with My Mexican Father rises to writing's challenge of explaining the inexplicable-- describing the indescribable.

What does it mean to be of two worlds...or three, or four, or several? Rodriguez in a dialogue with his father-self struggles with the dualism/duelism of being someone who lives between/among several worlds/states of mind /socio-economic srata/cultures/etc. He does this with prose which incorporates enough historic detail and insight to make even the most miserly readers feel that their time with this book was well spent.

If you haven't read Rodriguez before I'd describe his writing as that of an intellecutal Caen, a non-fiction Tan/Allende, or a less profane Capote/Sedaris.

You can catch Rodriguez on the The News Hour where his essays and commentary are a cut above the ususal beltway banter. Although his contributions to The News Hour are substantial, I wish he'd set aside the time to write another book as good as this one.

Must to read!
Especially for Californians!
We are being a witnesses of the new classics created.
Despite the tough vocabulary and not an easy writing style, author created brilliant and truly remarkable set of essays. They are not related to each other directly, which makes it somewhat easier to read and possible to skip around, moving back and forth according to your own moods and preferences.