I remember reviewing the syllabus at the beginning of the semester and seeing that there was only one novel that I had previously read and analyzed in a seminar about trauma and memory from Mexico, 1968. Therefore, Amulet was very familiar to me but it became unfamiliar when I saw it in this transnational seminar. I could not understand why this novel was transnational because I read and studied it as part of the Culture, Politics and Memory of Mexico. Therefore, in my mind, there was a relation to the trauma perspective and how to define Mexican history and the present. These were some of the most important points for the readings in that seminar–and I thought the only ones–, however I did not find the connection with the transnational idea, other than that the author was Chilean. My first approach to seeing the novel as global happened after reading Global Matters by Paul Jay. The fact that Jay argues in his novel that transnational and global begin when the Eurocentric approach to literature changes to minority and postcolonial ones made me think of Amulet again. However, in the same book, there were some theorists like Said who pointed out the problems to define globalization and its impact with national literatures. At this point, there was a month left to read the novel from a transnational point of view, but I started thinking, perhaps, Amulet was a “hybrid” novel and that it would be possible to study it as the trauma and hallucinations of Auxilio like a national book that tells the world what happened in 1968, and also as a transnational novel.

Perspepolis and Kraniauskas´article also gave me some clues about transnationalism and globalization and after remembering how relevant the sixties were for the world– the murder of Martin Luther King and president Kennedy, the French May…–, I started thinking of these events in terms of their visibility and dissemination to the world and thus, my mind changed from a national to a transnational idea. Mostly, whereas watching the video in class of the two black championship men with their fist raised up in the Olympic Games and discussing in the seminar  all the events that taking place in the world in the 60s, I realized that the Mexican movement can be understood as more than a traumatic event for Mexicans. It seems like the rest of the world understood this student protest as a fight for their rights.

Nevertheless, by the middle of October, I had the opportunity to talk about the Mexican movement with Professor Aguilar Mora, one of the Mexican witnesses of the movement of ‘68 and I asked him if he realized how important and global the protest movement was for the world at that moment. He was not sure how to answer me and after a few minutes, he told me: “What do you think? Was it global for you?” I said “yes” because it was a reference for other events around the world, and then, he thought, “Ok, maybe you are right but I did not think about it that way. I was there December the 2^nd and then I went to France and I heard nothing about it from there on. I did not know this event went beyond Mexico.”  These words impacted me a lot because I had thought like he did at the beginning this transnational seminar: “The student movement was in 1968 and the novels about it are written by telling how to narrate the trauma and give voice to the Mexican people themselves. These kind of novels are total novels because they deal with issues in Mexico, but have nothing to do with transnationalism”, I thought.

However, Amulet was studied at the end of October and I had all of these feelings, thoughts and information in my mind after reading the transnational articles and books: Open City, Borderlands/ La Frontera, Bhabha´s, Appadurai´s, and Jay´s articles… I faced Amulet with new “eyes”, maybe transnational one, and while I was rereading the novel, I did not focus on the plot but the facts which make it transnational: Auxilio was an Uruguayan exile, Elena´s boyfriend was Italian, and some of the poets Auxilio met were from different parts of the world. When I read the novel for the first time I did not even think of Auxilio´s origin but her life as a servant of an important writer, her relationships, when she was trapped in the bathroom on the fourth floor, her hallucinations….This time, however, I read it differently and I noticed all of those transnational nuances, and the fact that a Chilean is the author of the novel makes much more sense for me from a transnational perspective.

Transnationalism embraces many concepts like hybridity, frontiers, in-betweeness, migration, agency, capitalism…and all of them already helped me when re-reading Amulet and reading another novel called Los traductores del viento,  (The translators of the wind) from a transnational point of view. That is why I am sure this perspective will help me also in the future. From the cultural view, I would like to add that I also rethought the massacre of Mexico ‘68 this year, unfortunately, with the new massacre in Iguala, Mexico. This time, however, it is different because 1968 “awoke the world,” and nowadays the Mexicans manifested and looked for guilty parties, some of whom are already in jail. Being visible in all countries, the whole world condemned the massacre at that point and the transnational events were clearer with protests and demonstrations everywhere, even from the different political parties around the world.

According to Jay, the best literature is that which transcends historical and national barriers. I add that it is also reflected in the other areas like culture and ways of thinking. The study and knowledge of the concepts above let me think differently about literature, culture and life in general and I will take them into account and apply them in my future readings, essays, conferences and teaching.

In effect, it is common currency to admit that cinema and American cinema are synonymous, although there is always a place reserved for “otherness”: national cinemas, Bollywood, women´s cinema and so on. It is necessary to bear in mind that cinema is an art and also a business, and the control of the distribution by multinational film companies is often more important than the story itself. I have noticed that US productions are very different from Spanish, European or Latin American movies because of the capitalist system of production. In terms of form, US movies generally include handsome protagonists, happy endings and, since there is always a problematic situation that the main character has to solve, s a cause-effect relationship between events.  On the contrary, European and Latin American cinema embrace other characteristics: their protagonists are normal people, there are opened endings and nobody knows the incentive of the characters, thus there is no obvious cause-effect relationship.

In terms of content, US productions will adapt a novel if there is a really good version of it, a well studied plot in which everything is solved at the end, and all the characters fix their life problems. Regarding the representation of sexuality, American cinema inserts music, the scenes are usually at night and bodies are covered most of the time. All of these aspects function as a precursor of the sexual scene, however, in European and Latin American cinema, the sex is more explicit and you can see both characters naked. Additionaly, this cinema shows the sex scenes without preambles because these scenes are not usually just for pleasure, but exist as a political subject. In this way, sex is a metaphor of politics, which is why all the sex scenes in “Y a tu mamá también” hide a political issue described by the extra-diegetic voice-over. This narrator tells the “other” story, the Mexican one, which shows us the problems and concerns of the history of Mexico, like the strike in which Julio’s sister participates with other people representing the Zapatistas because of the signing of NAFTA in 1994. This situation is even more allegoric because Julio and his sister’s last name is Zapata. It overlaps with the story of Tenoch-a short name of Tenochtitlán, the capital of the expanding Mexican Empire in the 15^th century-Julio and Luisa Cortés, the Spanish girl–whose last name coincides with the conquer Hernán Cortés–and their trip to Boca del Cielo. The three protagonists continue their journey: meanwhile the Mexican national-historical memory emerge in a few seconds to make it visible to the audience and as a means of vindication. These seconds are enough to remind the audience of what politicians did in the past, like the police pressure on peasants or the reminder through painted signs of which states respect civil rights.

Cuarón proposes a cultural and historical model mixed with the story of the three protagonists who are, by the way, a continuum or extension of the main story, the historical one. The result of the scenes depicting sex and drugs is a sort of vindication of youth against what happened in the past. This style of life of Julio and Tenoch reminded me of the celebrated passage by Carlos Fuentes in The Death of Artemio Cruz in which the word “chingada” is repeated again and again throughout an entire page to express a summary of Mexican history. “Chingada” is a symbol and countersign of Mexico, as Fuentes states. This word also expresses–paraphrasing Fuentes’ passage– a project of life, a memory, the voice of the desperate people, the sign of the birthday, the freedom of poor people, command of powerful governors, threats and mockery, parties and drunkenness, race…and all Mexicans are part of this word that implies all of these connotations. However, the first meaning of “chingada” is the mythical mother. A majority of indigenous women were raped by Spaniards in the process of colonization and it is said that Mexicans are sons of “la chingada.”, which implies conflicts in their identity. Maybe that is why the movie has this allegorical title Y tu mamá también, referring to the idea that even your mother is the daughter of “la chingada.” In fact, Julio says the title phrase at the very end of the movie when they are drinking and smoking at the bar, after which is a key sexual scene in which both male protagonists sleep with one other. It seems like there is an unclear sexual identity between them. This unclear sexual identity can refer to — or serve as a metaphor of– the rapes of the colonial period and the consequences that it had in Mexican identity and its conflicts. Cuarón wants to express to the world several conflicts through his movie: on the one hand, he criticizes Mexican society because they were action less in important moments in the past (which is reflected in Tenoch and Julio´s lifestyle, caring about nothing other than sex and drugs). Thus, he critiques the submissive Mexican society. At the same time, Cuarón gives voice to all of the injustices committed against them and reclaims their rights in a visual way, through the strike scene for instance, and in a narrative way, because of the voice-over which provides information about Mexican history.  One the other hand, Cuarón is also telling the story of Mexican roots and what this conflict means in contemporary Mexican society. This idea is expressed through sex and drug use of the protagonists as the way of enduring the identity conflict. Therefore, there are not two different stories but complementary ones, as the “total novels” of Latin American boom. The movie, therefore, embraces all the conflicts in Mexico in detail and use characters and a narrator who represent these specific conflicts and helps to understand the hidden meanings embedded in a movie with different independent stories. It also expresses what Mexico means by the movie as a totality. Then, it could be considered as a “Total movie”.

By analysis of the movie as “total”, Cuarón expresses his particular method of transnational cinema by introducing Transatlantic and specific names as well as what the character represents in a metaphorical way, such as Luisa Cortés. Furthermore, he makes a movie which shows to the world that the past problems and concerns of Mexico regarding politic, rights, oppression, and submission still occur today. Cinema is a narrative, an efficient and affective machine of telling (transnational) stories and History, going beyond linguistic frontiers.

When, on October 2, The Plaza de las Tres Culturas in Tlatelolco was silenced by the massacre of hundreds of students, the majority thought that it was an isolated event, mainly because the day after the blood was cleaned from the streets and the Olympic Games were celebrated fifteen days later. However, the student movement was highly relevant both for the world and for the own Mexicans. Mark Kurlansky denominated the global event “The year the world awoke”, and there are also other expressions like “The year that rocked the world,” and “The year of the barricades.” However, while many youth historians believe that it is a myth or a symbol expanded by young activists, others like De Groot doubt that the narrations of 68 were completely true. This is the essential problem of the movement:  historization (objective) versus memorialization (subjective). It is obvious that scholars show their concern about both concepts and think about how to solve a story told by testimonies, voices, political appropriations, incongruities…because the event becomes controversial. For that reason, whenever there is a collective trauma, a collective memory is required, but also “imaginary spaces” in which to leave all that which cannot be proven with exactitude, so that the information is exhaustive and arrives and a truthful historicity.

It is precisely those myths that form a transatlantic position/reading. There were more events that year in Europe. In France, for example, the official history has been reduced to a cruel riot, and in Germany, the student rebellion was oversimplified. Despite of the inaccuracies and difficulties of knowing what happened, it is essential to take them into account because the memory of ‘68 is the reflection of the postwar change and of modernization. It is also the mirror of the intellectual and political concerns of a culture and localizes the threats of a common national identity. The events that took place that year are deeply international because they interact with other movements around the world.  Warburg says that all of these movements transcend national borders in their attempt to create an order in the world.  1968 was also “a magical year” because it “collects” the previous events-after the war- and provides followers of the movement or prophets,- like Marjane who “wanted  justice, love and the wrath of God all in one.” Many countries took social constructions from México to create their (transnational) framework because of the spirit of revolution. This spirit crossed borders through the ‘68 commercialization, which is why icons like James Dean, Rock ´n Roll, or The Beatles came out. The commercialization of youth culture is part of the articulation of the 60s and it is also the representation of dissent: Nike used The Beatle´s song “Revolution” to promote their sneakers. Therefore, we have to establish a truly global perspective to create a comparative framework and get the great transnational dimension of ‘68 in our collective memories.

Regarding the national framework, Pierre Nora advocates the “lieu de memoires” to reconstruct history through fragments of the past like monuments, physical objects, costumes, etc, to construct identity. In Mexico, there is only a mural that commemorates that day, however many writers write about the Plaza de las Tres Culturas, describing the Mexican streets and places that provoke a nostalgic feeling. The chronicler Carlos Monsiváis states in his article “The Passion of the History” that: “We have History because it is our Nation and the proof that we have a Nation is that History is already ours.”

Mexico shapes its analysis through commemorations, protesters- “October 2 is not forgotten”- and literature. Fernando del Paso, María Luisa Mendoza, González de Alba, Elena Poniatowska or Bolaño are some of the writers that tell about Mexico, 1968 and support Nora´s notion about the event; “literature about the student movement, especially because of the specific conditions in which it emerged, eventalised 1968.” Last year, Poniatowska received the Nobel Prize for her work, La noche de Tlatelolco–a crude testimony of the repression against the students. The interviewer asked her about the literary references and she confirmed that the chronicler Monsiváis and their followers were the best narrators because “they mix their own life with the chronicle” and added that “that´s why journalists have opportunities of writing everything they see beyond themselves.” Although González de Alba, former student leader and one of Poniatowska’s sources, said that his words were distorted (imaginary spaces?) by Poniatowska, others supported her. Literature is sometimes controversial, however. Mexico shows its national framework with the recent 132 movement or the earthquake in 1985, that Poniatowska confirmed as the moment that moved her the most because of the citizen mobilization: “One of the few moments in which Mexico was able to look at itself and more over, overcome the tragedy.”

Mexico is in the trilogy–identity, memory and heritage–which are the most important concepts to be framed in both national and transnational contexts.

Reading Anzaldua’s book, I remembered the first class of our seminar in which the board was divided into four concepts and below them, there were some words. Transnational was the first concept and after the brainstorm there appeared words like “change in location”, “immigration”, “economic policies” and “exile/expatriate.” It was complicated for me to relate these words with and have a clear idea of how to mix them in order to get the “Transnational” meaning, however after works like Open City and Borderlands, those words began to make sense and I think I am approaching this concept. I could notice that both texts mention the “open” word to define a place, Cole uses it even as the title of his book and I think it is not by chance. He wanted to prove that everybody can feel isolated and with no identity in a city like New York, an open city. When Julius walks along the city, it is for him like walking in an opened country, it means, a big extension around his house where the landscapes overlap with one another, with one being unsecure and inhospitable. Also Anzaldúa talks about an “open” wound in her work. Aída Hurtado and Norma Cantú comment on this in their introduction“Living in the borderlands: The life of Gloria Anzaldúa”;

“The U.S- Mexican border es una herida abierta (it is a wound) where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country-a border country.”

Anzaldúa has an open wound but knows that convergence has created a border culture, a third country, a closed country. Paradoxically her wound is opened in a close country. This play on words of close vs open makes me think about both the importance of the language in the Anzaldúa´s work and the meaning of these concepts. Her language is an important feature of her experience and she constructs her own lens by her writing style. Other than open vs close, her poems and narratives not only show her mestizaje, but the idea of mixing Spanish, English and Indian tell us about the way she was jailed between three cultures. When reading an article about Herta Müller, recipient of the Nobel Prize in literature in 2009, I understood better why Anzaldúa wanted to show her experience through her poetry. Müller explains that  poetry is the most concentrated way to express small sparkles of emotions and states that literature doesn’t understand borders. Then, I realize the big importance of her language.

The meaning of concepts like identity, solitude, home, freedom, duality, and faculty–the capacity to see in surface phenomena the meaning of deeper realities–are vital. Precisely, one of these realities reminds me of another word mentioned in class, “in between”, deeply analized by Bhabha. Anzaldúa denominates it “borderland”and she named herself a border woman in her anguish, myths and incomprehensions of her life due to that fact that she is involved in three worlds-white, mexican and indigenous. Her hybridity makes me think of my life and how different the US culture is from mine. I am not in Spain but I do not belong to the American culture because my identity and culture are Spanish but something has changed since I have been here because I had to adapt myself into another culture (in which I am living). Then, sometimes, I feel like I am “in between” two realities or in a third world: neither Spain nor US, but a new one that I(re)create every day. In terms of Anzaldúa, you carry your home–with all your experiences– like a turtle.

I also experienced this feeling/idea with a movie that I saw the other day, “In Between Days” by So Yong Kim. This movie deals with two Korean teenagers that live in some city in North America and the female character, Aimie, struggles to find a place outside herself where the past–South Korea– and future—US– connect, and a place within herself where friendship and love do not cancel each other out. Anzaldúa states that living in the border produces knowledge inside a system whereas the knowledge is retained outside the system and Aimie lives in the border and talks to her dead father, -like Anzaldúa also does through the indigenous ritual- whereas the boy is called Tran, coincidence or not,  reminds me of the short name of Transnationalism.

All of these experiences through movies, articles and life experiences add to Anzaldúa´s words by themselves, what they mean and how they are written are the best engagement to figure out the concept of Transnationalism. Also, I agree with Cantú and Hurtado’s introduction when they confirm that her ideas are applied to different socio politic realities.