NAFF_Online -
Anderson, H “The combustible elements of repressed female desire and secret women’s business found in ‘Like Water for Chocolate,” NAFF_Online 5.1 (2007): pp. 1-3.
Alfonso Arau’s 1992 film version of Laura Esquival's novel Like Water for Chocolate is an earthy rendering of ‘love interred’ (Fitzsimmons, 2001). The central character, Tita, is forbidden to ever marry due to an appalling family tradition relegating the role of the youngest daughter to that of servant and nurse for her aging mother. Tita and Pedro are in love, and Pedro, unable to marry her, marries her sister Rosaura in an attempt to be close to her. Tita, frustrated by the situation, communicates her feelings through food. Her culinary skills verge on the supernatural, giving her power in a seemingly powerless situation. It is for this reason that the text causes conflicting interpretations regarding women and their traditional role in the kitchen.
Is Tita a feminist icon and culinary artist who is able to challenge concepts of patriarchy from the conventional confines of the kitchen? Or is she merely a very gifted cook who infuses food with vague elements of her own repressed feelings? Lucas and other critics note that the focus on food and cooking is paradoxical in that, on one hand, it offers the ability to break away, reconfigure or challenge traditional social norms regarding marginalized others, in this case women in the kitchen, but on the other, by positing Tita firmly in a stereotypical role and imbuing her with supernatural powers, these very notions are confirmed.
The film and book arguably present two entirely different perspectives. The book highlights Tita’s artistry in the kitchen by magnifying the fantastic affect her food has on all those who partake. This creates some counterbalance to the stifling rules imposed by Mama Elena. By contrast, the film downplays the fantastic elements of Tita’s cooking, providing images of a perspiring, lovelorn and frustrated cook therefore relegating Tita to a role of servitude and underscoring a sense of her marginalized place in the world. The film also fails to show the great passion Tita has for her cooking. As cooking is generally considered as relatively unskilled it has often been considered a fitting role for women and or minorities. The book elevates the status of cook by framing Tita as artist with mystical abilities. Food is the chosen medium for this culinary genius and it is from the unlikely domain of the kitchen that she controls her environment and others. The film does not fully explore the secrecy and intergenerational power of the sharing of recipes that is passed down amongst a select group of women, highlighting that the kitchen may not necessarily be the seat of subservience, but could in fact be the place of real power.
Both the film and the novel are set rather tellingly against the backdrop of the Mexican Revolution of 1910. The war itself tells the story of marginalized others, in this case peasants and farmers, revolting against the imperialism and capitalist expansionism of the Diaz government (Carnes & Garraty, 2006). During this time in Mexican history, rule was given to an aristocratic oligarchy that alone had access to education, and health care, while peasants and farmers faced daily struggles in their attempts to survive. Mexico had lost much land to the USA. As a result, rebels were forced to seek the restoration of privately owned lands for the peasants and a more inclusive and egalitarian government inducted. During the Diaz government freedom of the press was suspended (Carnes & Garraty, 2006).
The film and book adhere to middle class perspectives by portraying the rebels as toothless violent rapists, and misogynists rather than desperate people struggling for continued existence. There are many parallels then with notions of oppression, violence and the fight for freedom of expression that is explored within the microcosm of a traditional Mexican household stifled by rigid and elitist notions of honour. In this case however, Tita is the unlikely soldier, the battle field the kitchen and the weapon of choice is food.
Scholars like Valdes celebrate the novel as a ‘feminist recuperation of artistic creativity within the confinement of the house’ (1995, p.190). Tita’s cooking ability is central to a theme that offers a sense of both empowerment, and paradoxically domestic servitude. The book expands on Tita’s culinary expertise and the extraordinary emotions her meals engender in others. The film, however, has generated much criticism for its stereotypical portrayal of marginalized Mexican difference. This is further compounded by Tita’s role of perceived domestic servant. Some scholars suggest that this framing of Mexican identity is premeditated. The film's 1992 release coincides with and reflects the strained relationship between America and Mexico on the issue of limited Mexican Immigration and as a result the film carefully complies with American ideology and the portrayal of Mexican ‘otherness’ (Finnegan, n.d).
Arguably the film has been ‘westernized’ through strong reinforcements of racial stereotypes and the role of marginalized ethnic groups. Finnegan contends that ‘through the careful manipulation of filmic devices such as editing, framing and close ups, many features of Mexican otherness perpetuated by Hollywood throughout the twentieth century are inscribed’ (n.d. p.1). Indeed, it is interesting that characters in positions of authority, Mama Elena most notably and those who represent the educated elite such as Doctor Brown, bear more white and westernized features. While those in subjection, Tita, Chenca and Pedro possess all the dark and distinguishing features of their Mayan ancestors. Even Gertrudis, the daughter of a Mulatto is decidedly more Celtic than black looking suggesting that real rebellion is only available to those who physically represent the dominant ideal.
Mama Elena’s violence against Tita which is implicit in the text is made explicit, graphically so in the film, further reinforcing the gross imbalance of power between servant and master. This changes the dynamic of the character from heroine, craftily executing her power over others from within the strict and chaotic binds of patriarchy, to slave girl with unusual culinary skills, who is cruelly separated from the man she loves. The film has arguably made Tita’s ability less magical and more realistic, entrenching her firmly in her place as a Mexican domestic servant. Presented this way, the film is more palatable for a large and highly lucrative American market that maintains stringent concepts of Mexican identity.
By contrast, the book plays on the power of Tita’s cooking. Her food causes everything from natural disasters, spontaneous combustion and sexual delight, that are not manifestly magical in the film. But it is these elements of the fantastic that suggest Tita is a powerful force, which subverts notions of her status as victim. It is by virtue of her culinary power that Tita becomes rule breaker and rebel, paradoxically wielding her power from within the sacred yet traditional domain of the kitchen. Food is the source of Tita’s power and the kitchen is the battlefield from which she explores and creates extraordinary and unrivaled culinary delights. By a strange process of osmosis, she is able to convey intense emotional experience through food. According to Valdez (1995), Tita's cooking ‘controls the pattern of living of those in her household because the food she prepares becomes an extension of herself’ (p.2). Tita’s connection with the kitchen is not enforced but was almost supernaturally and prenatally determined. Tita wept a river of tears even before she was born: ‘Tita made her entrance into this world prematurely, right there on the kitchen table amid the smells of simmering noodle soup, thyme, bay leaves and coriander, steamed milk, garlic and, of course, onion (Esquival 1989, p. 9). Tita’s tears at birth are so overwhelming that when the water evaporates the remaining salt is enough to fill a ten pound sack, which will be used for household cooking for many years (Esquival, 1989). This creates an unusual knowingness within Tita’s character giving her qualities of the mythological, a concept not fully explored in the film.
Food as a medium of liberation, a source of ritual, self-expression and power in the filmic rendering and written text is a contentious issue for many scholars. For many, all elements of food preparation found within the text are ideal sites for establishing a female community and ‘even a feminist utopia from which to contest patriarchal power’ (Maite, 2006, p.30). While for other critics, cooking, the kitchen and women, are images that confirm a masculine hegemony rather that undermine it.
There are those, however, who challenge traditional feminist critiques of the text and suggest a different type of feminist re-reading and interpretation that celebrates female cohesion and artistry. Jaffe, for instance, contends that ‘Less than 20% of Mexican women worked outside the home in the 70s and their domesticity is not a trap as most feminists are inclined to view. Their domesticity, as symbolized by the kitchen in 'Como Agua Para Chocolate', is a vehicle for their creativity and a collective experience shared with other women of different classes that promotes female solidarity.’ Indeed food preparation is highly ritualized giving it a significance of almost religious proportions. According to Valdez ‘the culmination of this process of food as art and communication is food as communion.’ Jaffe believes that concerned feminists should rest assured that the text does not endorse a return to the ‘proverbial state of barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen’ (1993, p.23).
However, food as possible medium of feminist power within the text is ultimately paradoxical as it still requires masculine approval and presents images of women in roles that symbolize servitude. LeCount asserts that ‘regardless of social status or historical periods, the nature of feasting remains essentially patriarchal’ (2001, p.3) It could be further argued that in spite of Tita’s role as superlative architect, and creator of culinary excellence, she still engenders traditional images of woman as life giver and supreme nourisher which brings with it all the incumbent notions of motherly warmth and self-sacrifice. Still one fact remains constant throughout the text: food is the great equalizer. It cuts through all the obvious binary boundaries and is a necessary part of life for all ethnicities ages and genders. This is arguably why both the book and text became so popular.
Food is the pre-determined medium through which Tita unleashes her power. It is through food that she is able to fulfill desires and needs that for propriety and fear have been repressed. For example, the rose-petal sauce that Tita makes is most certainly an aphrodisiac and is also the first time a clear statement is made suggesting that food is a sign system (Fitzsimmons 2001). Tita makes the unusual concoction out of rose petals, from the roses given to her by Pedro. She pricks her finger on the rose and thus blood is infused into the delicate sauce which has a profound effect on all who partake. After eating it, her sister Gertrudis begins to feel a forceful heat pulsing through her limbs (Esquival, 1989). Covered in rose scented sweat, she runs to the shower stall to wash it off, but her body emits so much heat that the walls begin to split and the stall ignites into a phosphorous fire ball. So potent is this aroma that it induces Juan, Captain of the Troop, to leave the battle field, an unforgivable breach of military leadership, in order to find its source. Gertrudis is then essentially enslaved by her passion for another year, working in a brothel until she ‘has her fill of men’ illustrating an almost super human sexual appetite that is reflective of Tita’s repression (Esquival, 1989). Consequently, food here is a means of transmitting sexual energy between Pedro and Tita and Gertrudis is the unwitting transmitter and arguable victim of their suppressed passion.
By contrast, many scholars suggest that the connection between food and sex is ancient (Caseburg, 1999). Lawless (cited in Caseburg, 1999) contends that the associated biological functions of food and sex are perhaps the two most important activities necessary for the endurance of the human species (p. 4). Nevertheless cooking is still viewed as manual and everyday labor which automatically becomes associated with tasks assigned to those people marginalized by class, gender and race’ (Lawless cited in Caseburg, 1999, p. 50). Therefore, food functions in strong connection with women (Caseburg, 1999). In ancient texts like the Bible, Eve, the first woman, is intimately connected with food, and it is in her vulnerability that she is tempted to ingest forbidden fruit that changes the course of human history (Caseburg, 1999). In this way Like Water for Chocolate and all culinary narratives arguably pose serious challenges for feminist re-readings as they simultaneously confirm stereotypical concepts of woman as servant/nourisher, and yet create a sense of secrecy , empowerment and reverential respect for those that wield such culinary authority.
The recipes that seemed to be at times jarring in their inclusion throughout the text not only render the text an unusual blend of culinary and the magical, but can be seen to either subvert or comply with traditional narratives involving the domestic role of women. Sutcliff (2003) suggests that ‘the inclusion of the recipe is central to the text.’ It represents a myriad of emotions ranging from passion to betrayal: ‘The recipes can be used in any setting to provoke one or all of the same emotions in the consumer’ (Sutcliff, 2001). Even in this issue elements of the paradoxical emerge. Superficially, the recipes confirm that women’s place is in the kitchen, and that her role throughout the ages is that of nurturer, a role infused with notions of self-denial, and wavering levels of social esteem. However the recipes also reflect the power, secrecy and intergenerational prestige imbued with having this level of culinary knowledge.