Author: Anne Cosgrove Wimberly

This is the time of year when lists are made. Lists that record the 25, 50 and 100 best and worst moments of the previous year. Who really wants to revisit the most read digital stories of 2023 that include cataclysmic world-changing events, rich and famous people fighting, gun-toting children, wildfires, floods, and general mayhem?

I tend to gravitate towards lists that include the best movies and t.v. shows, such as this one from NPR. My favorite lists to peruse, however, are book lists from publishers such as the New Yorker. I like reading the titles and researching the authors but have become a picky reader in my curmudgeonly old age of 50-plus years. While reading about the creative talents and thrilling storylines, I find myself yearning to return to pieces of work that are familiar to me.

My own list of favorite books has not varied much over the years. In fact, my core list is comprised of 5 texts, a number much smaller than 50 and still counting. In no particular order, here is my must-read list:

1. Siddhartha by Herman Hesse
2. I Heard the Owl Call My Name by Margaret Craven
3. The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder
4. The Princess Bride by William Goldman; and
5. Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel.

Every year, I re-read at least one of these books. This past year, I re-read Like Water for Chocolate during Hispanic Heritage Month 2023. I was just as pleased by its magical realism as I was the first time I picked it up. I can’t recall if I initially read it of my own volition or if it was an assignment for a college class. I do remember that I received Purple Hippo as a Christmas gift from my father around the same time I first read Like Water for Chocolate. I remember because being gifted Purple Hippo as a twenty-something year old college student was a bit unusual, sort of like some of the events in Like Water for Chocolate. Purple Hippo was with me when I read the novel the first time, and he was with me when I read it again this past October.

“Purple Hippo,” I said when I finished the first chapter for the twelfth time, “I should write a formal review of this book.”

And so I did. I hope you enjoy the review, which will be the first formal review of all the books on my timeless must-read list.

Aren’t you grateful to have a timeless and manageable book list?

By the way, the movie Like Water for Chocolate is one of my all-time favorite films. The same is true for the novel and movie The Princess Bride. This will be true for fifty years and counting (at least, for me!).

And now, it is time for the review.

Review
Reviewed Work: Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate: A Novel in Monthly Installments, with Recipes, Romances, and Home Remedies, translated by Carol Christensen and Thomas Christensen (Doubleday, 1992), 246 pp. ISBN 0-385-42016-1.

Review by: A. M. Cosgrove Wimberly
Literary Mama
571 words
September 26, 2023

Laura Esquivel is a Mexican novelist and screenplay writer. Her debut novel, Like Water for Chocolate: A Novel in Monthly Installments with Recipes, Romances, and Home Remedies, was published in 1989. Esquivel rewrote the novel as a screenplay and the movie, Like Water for Chocolate, released in 1993, received critical acclaim across the globe. A somewhat simple love story is at the heart of this novel, but the story encapsulates so much more than forbidden lust. The hyperbolic uses of light and dark, hot and cold, wet and dry make the impossible seem possible.

The first example of magical realism occurs in the introductory pages of the novel. Mama Elena’s tears flood the family farm home when she births Tita. Mama Elena births Tita on the kitchen table because she was preparing a meal with the family cook, Nacha. The source of Mama Elena’s tears stemmed from the birthing process and the chopped onions, which are known to make people cry. Nacha, who mopped the tears off the floors, collected “enough salt to fill a ten-pound sack.” Totally believable, right? In Esquivel’s novel, it is.

Even though the novel is full of impossible magical moments, Esquivel manages to realistically harness the setting, culture, and history of the story. Each chapter represents a month and begins with a traditional Mexican family recipe. The recipes indicate the de la Garza farm’s ability to sustain an entire community. Following custom, Tita, the youngest of Mama Elena’s daughters, is doomed to be her mother’s caretaker for life. As an infant, Tita is paired with Nacha in the kitchen and eventually succeeds Nacha as the family cook. The de la Garza homestead is in a small town in northern Mexico. The Mexican Revolution impacts the de la Garza family in expected and unexpected ways.

The theme of love and loss permeates the story and is the source of the magical realism moments. Tita loves Pedro, and Pedro loves Tita. Mama Elena forbids their marriage; Tita can only successfully serve one person, Mama Elena. Mama Elena offers her older daughter Rosaura as Pedro’s wife. Pedro agrees to the union to remain close to Tita. Even though his intentions are good, they compromise Tita’s well-being. Mama Elena punishes Tita every time the two lovers so much as look at one another. Tita’s ability to communicate is stripped from her, so she unwillingly and unknowingly does so through her cooking. Her emotions infuse her meals. The guests of the de la Garza farm leave the dinner table in frenzies of sadness, burning desires, lust, and love.

In addition to realistically portraying the setting, history, and culture of the novel, Esquivel exquisitely explores relationships. No relationship is simple, and all connect to Tita. Tita navigates her sister’s marriage to her lover, her mother’s vengeance, and Pedro’s pleas for pleasure. Tita’s position as caregiver extends to the animals and land that provide food for the meals she prepares, further connecting her to place, earth, and the universe. The natural world doesn’t allow Tita to react to the relationship stresses in her life. Therefore, when she catalyzes moments of magical realism, the results of her actions are emotionally impactful and believable.

Esquivel’s Like Water for Chocolate: A Novel in Monthly Installments with Recipes, Romances, and Home Remedies is a delightful read. Anyone interested in traditional cooking, Mexican history and heritage, family relationships, or romantic stories will enjoy this sweet and savory novel.

The Bizzell Memorial Library sits in the middle of the University of Oklahoma campus. The library is an expansive, five-story building that includes a reading room, tech-savvy spaces, and traditional columns of books punctuated by study tables and corrals.

My favorite place in the library is the Zarrow Family Graduate Student and Faculty Center. This lower level location is where I studied almost daily as a graduate student. The path I took through the library led me past a short hallway whose wall is adorned with a curious sign. The first line on the sign is “Variorum Chaucer.”

I took a Chaucer class as part of my graduate studies but never had time to investigate the meaning of the sign. I recently returned to the library to solve the mystery of what and where the Variorum Chaucer is.

First, I needed to define the word “variorum.” According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a variorum is “an edition or text with notes by different persons.”

Next, I looked up the history of the Variorum Chaucer. The Variorum Chaucer was founded more than 50 years ago in 1967 by a scholar named Paul G. Ruggiers. Ruggiers’ goal, according to a 1984 interview with William Bedford Clark, was to bring several medieval researchers together to publish bodies of work that included all scholarly notes on Chaucer’s works.

Ruggiers predicted that 40 volumes would be needed to complete the series. Only 12 volumes were published between 1979 and 2002. Ruggiers acknowledged that each volume would take time and that he would die before all 40 were complete. Ruggiers passed away in 1998, at which time 8 of the 12 volumes were published.

Where did the sign for the Variorum Chaucer lead to in Bizzell? Would there be a room full of old manuscripts and notes? Would there be a scholar pouring over resources, creating their own compendium regarding Chaucer or his works? Who was carrying forward Ruggiers’s vision?

I followed the direction of the sign. The short hall ended with white double doors. I passed through the doors. I entered a tiled, nondescript hall. Uncertain of where to go next, I searched the walls and doors for additional signage. I found one that reads “Chaucer Variorum.” Assuming that “Variorum Chaucer” and “Chaucer Variorum” are the same, I continued on my journey.

I discovered an entrance! But the door was locked, and is an entrance to several offices.

I walked around the corner. Old, tall dusty shelves filled the space. The shelves were full of old dusty books. I wouldn’t be surprised to find something spooky, like the Dueling Banjo Brothers from the movie Deliverance, here.

Near the dusty stacks, I found a second entry to the Variorum. My heart rate increased. My excitement was palpable. I practiced a few questions quietly that I planned to present to the graduate student or professor I hoped to encounter. Perhaps they would allow me to touch an ancient text full of Chaucer’s words or unroll a scroll with intricate scribal artwork.

Alas, all I found was a muntin window-paned locked door. I could see into the Variorum and out the window on the opposite wall. I could see desks, chairs, bookshelves, books, papers, and equipment that appeared untouched, possibly for years. My view through the paned door gave me the sense of a time capsule. It looked as if the inhabitants partially cleaned the space and walked out on the same day.

This basement room of Bizzell I stared into with wonder was the space Ruggiers acquired in 1982 or 1983, 16 years after he started the Variorum Chaucer.

This ordinary girl is curious to know what happened to all that knowledge of fifty-plus years. Is it worth salvaging? Do we need variorums in our modern-day society, where so much information can be gleamed within seconds from the internet? Is it still worth our time and energy to deep dive into the histories of words and worlds and storytelling? What happened to the director and other Variorum Chaucer employees who followed Ruggiers?

Sadly, I did not completely solve the mystery of the Variorum Chaucer. I discovered the location and history, but, like the heroine of a well-written novel, my greatest wishes were not granted. I didn’t meet a Chaucerian or touch a text covered with Chaucer’s words. I don’t know who is responsible for the space or the items that are left in it, but I do feel honored that I at least got a glimpse of it.

I did discover the work of Paul G. Ruggiers. His greatest accomplishment, perhaps, was founding the globally renowned New Chaucer Society, a world-wide organization for anyone interested in Chaucer.

Perhaps one day I’ll search the stacks of Bizzell for the 12 volumes published by the Variorum Chaucer. Hopefully, they’ll be above ground, in the main sections of the Bizzell Memorial Library, where I’ll have less of a chance of encountering the Dueling Banjo Brothers from Deliverance.

What do The Muppet Movie and the Canterbury Tales have in common?

Thank you for asking! I’ve been comparing the two for a while now and am glad to have the opportunity to share my thoughts with you.

Let’s begin with the obvious.

Both stories are about a journey. In The Muppet Movie, Kermit the Frog journeys from the swamp to Hollywood. The pilgrims of the Canterbury Tales journey from Tabard Inn in Southwark to the Canterbury Cathedral in London.

Each story includes a huge cast of characters. The Muppet Movie features 24 main muppets, 8 background muppets, 10 human characters, and an additional 15 famous special guests for a grand total of 57 main-ish characters. The grand finale, a rousing rendition of The Rainbow Connection, includes over 100 human and muppet performers.

The Canterbury Tales features 30 pilgrims, including Harry Bailley, proprietor of the Tabard Inn. Harry proposes that each pilgrim share 2 stories on the journey from the Tabard Inn to Canterbury Cathedral, and 2 stories on the way back. The pilgrim who tells the best story will earn a meal and a night at his inn.

Kermit the Frog gains an entourage of muppets and humans as he treks across America from the swamp to Hollywood. He believes that every character has a talent that guarantees their success in Tinseltown.

The colorful characters of The Canterbury Tales and The Muppet Movie represent people from all walks of life. My favorite storyteller of The Canterbury Tales is the Wife of Bath, who is also known as the loathly lady. Kermit, of course, is my favorite muppet, which is a source of contention with Miss Piggy, who suffocatingly adores Kermit as well as herself.

But I digress. Just as Harry Bailley manages the pilgrims through their storytelling, Kermit leads his entourage through traps and turns that are mostly meant to ensare him for his scrawny frog legs. We never learn who earns the prize offered by Harry Bailley because Geoffrey Chaucer died before finishing his ambitious project of writing 120 stories. He managed to pen 24 colorful narratives that illustrate medieval lives. Kermit and his friends (spoiler alert) do reach Hollywood, but destroy the studio in which they are to record their performances.

The lesson from the pilgrims and the performers is to try. Just try to do something – tell a story, sing, dance. Hunt for frog legs. Whatever. Try something that will take you on a journey.

Anyway, that’s how this ordinary girls sums up these two stories.

The Canterbury Tales and The Muppet Movie are wonderful pieces of fiction that illustrate so many truths about friendships, human nature, and societal roles. If you have fifty-plus minutes (97 to be exact), use it to watch The Muppet Movie. If you have only 45 minutes, use it to listen to Ancient Literary Dude read the prologue to the Tales in Middle English, the language in which they were written. Both events will take you on your own mindful journey.