I’ve always been fascinated by language. So, when Liza Bakewell asked me if I’d be interested in reading her new book, Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun, of course I was excited.
About the Book:
It all started with a phrase: me vale madre. Translated literally, it means “it is worth a mother,” but its idiomatic meaning is along the lines of “it’s worthless” or “I don’t give a damn” (p. 12). In a culture where mothers, both human and divine, are so important, it seemed odd that such an expression should exist. Especially when the corresponding expression, ¡Qué padre! (literally, “what a father”) means “How utterly fabulous, marvelous, amazing, and awesome” (p. 12). Ms. Bakewell writes:
“Madre is worthless and padre is marvelous?” I asked around.
“Yes,” friends and acquaintances responded, followed by, “Well, más o menos.” More or less.
And so began my journey with madre.
(p. 12)
And what a journey it is. Ms. Bakewell begins to collect madre expressions, each with its own particular negative meaning. Over 22 years and several continents, she pursues madre, examining every angle and trying to understand how this word for “mother” got into its current mess.
Her quest is hampered by the cultural taboo against women using madre expressions as well as the reluctance of Mexicans to discuss them, among other things. Nevertheless, Ms. Bakewell queries friends and acquaintances, learns about the art of the albur, and considers the word for mamá across languages. She digs into Mexico’s history for clues and examines the role of the Catholic Church in shaping Mexican Spanish. She ponders gender in language and its repercussions. And all the while her list of madre expressions grows ever longer and more perplexing.
My Thoughts:
Before I share my thoughts on Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun, I want to dispel a concern some people may have that Madre might be inaccessible. On the contrary! Ms. Bakewell does a beautiful job of making her subject clear and easy to follow. Even if you’re new to the study of language, you’ll learn from and enjoy what Ms. Bakewell has to say. She is an academic, certainly, but she is also a gifted writer, and Madre is a pleasure to read. Her vivid descriptions of life in Mexico, her wordplay, and her light touch of humor combine to make Madre as engaging as it is interesting.
Ms. Bakewell’s journey with madre is, indeed, a fascinating one. Each time I thought she’d run out of angles from which to study the elusive noun, she’d introduce yet another factor that contributed in some way to madre’s contemporary meaning. I learned about Mexico’s history, culture, food, religion, and much more as I followed Ms. Bakewell’s narrative. I met her friends. Over dinners and at weddings, in Mexico and the U.S. and via email, the story of madre unfolded. I loved reading Ms. Bakewell’s descriptions of everyday scenes–the view from her balcony, a breathtaking church, sumptuous food–and seeing how madre fit around and within them.
It would be difficult to examine the word for “mother” without also examining the role of women, and Ms. Bakewell does so: as speakers of the language, as brides, as historical and Biblical figures, and, of course, as mothers. Masculine and feminine exist even in the Spanish language itself. One of my favorite examples of this from Madre is as follows: What happens when las 99 madres (99 mothers) are joined by el one padre (one padre)? The entire group, even though it is 99% female, becomes los 100 padres: 100 fathers. Where do those madres go? What impact, if any, does this grammatical rule have on a Spanish speaker’s conception of women? Why are the words for “life” and “death” feminine, while the words for “love,” “marriage,” “pregnancy,” and “birth” all masculine? These questions are only the tip of the iceberg.
There is so much more in Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun than I can possibly fit into this review. It’s a vast and tangled web, one which Liza Bakewell examines thoroughly and lovingly. If your curiosity is piqued by language, if you enjoy diving into other cultures, if you’re interested in gender studies, or if you like memoirs that teach while they transport, I would absolutely recommend Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun by Liza Bakewell to you.
Stop back tomorrow for an interview with Liza Bakewell and a chance to win your own copy of Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun!
Those are my thoughts. Check out Madre: Perilous Journeys with a Spanish Noun by Liza Bakewell on GoodReads or LibraryThing, or read other bloggers’ reviews:
- Devourer of Books
- readerbuzz
- If I missed your review, please let me know!
Your Turn!
What interesting idioms does your language have (English included!)?
Welcome to the wrap-up for Herta Müller’s The Appointment, the first of March’s two 
As I mentioned in my previous post about The Appointment, I liked the structure Müller used, alternating between scenes from the woman’s life and moments from her bus ride to her most recent appointment. I especially enjoyed the bus scenes; they were so ordinary, and yet there seemed to be so much simple truth in them. I also liked the woman’s narrative voice. My favorite quote is still the one about cracking nuts from my first post, but the feeling from that example pervaded the whole book, making it nice to read.
Last week, 
I’m only a chapter or so in, but already I like Cassandra. She’s not the most eloquent of narrators, as she’s really just practicing her writing, but I can tell she’s trying. The setting is intriguing, as is the cast of characters so far: Cassandra and her sister, Rose; their father; and their father’s young second wife, Topaz. Oh, and a dressmaker’s dummy named Miss Blossom.