75 pages • 2 hours read
Sandra CisnerosA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The book opens with a brief introduction from Celaya “Lala” Reyes, the narrator and author of the story. Here, she reflects on a photograph taken of everyone in her family during a vacation in Acapulco, including her brothers, her Aunty Light-Skin with her daughter Antonieta Araceli, her mother and father, and “the Awful Grandmother.” Everyone is there except for Lala herself, who was building sand castles at the time when in it was taken.
Lala notes that the beach photographer who took the image would’ve referred to it as un recuerdo, which literally means, “a memory.” Because she is absent from this image—this memory—she must fill in the absence with her creative imagination. She also notes that her absence makes her feel as though she herself is the photographer: the documenter of this recuerdo.
The book shifts to a scene from Lala’s childhood wherein her immediate and extended family—including the families of her Uncle Fat-Face and her Uncle Baby—drive from Chicago to Mexico City as they do each year. Lala’s father and her uncles race one another in their cars, with the children urging them to drive faster and faster.
This chapter opens with the three Reyes brothers: Lala’s Father, her Uncle Fat-Face, and her Uncle Baby—packing their cars for the drive from Chicago to Mexico City. Lala notes that her Uncle Fat-Face and Aunty Licha always bring a multitude of goods to sell in Mexico as a means of financing their trip. Thus, their car is stuffed with items such as Barbie dolls, Swiss Army Knives, hair clippers, bras, girdles, and more.
Lala explains that the family now drives to Mexico in this trio of cars because the drive is so long and treacherous. Lala’s mother, Zoila, does not like the idea, however, and she and her husband bicker.
Lala also notes that the three Reyes brothers are only able to make this long trip because they all quit their jobs at the big furniture company they were working for and plan to go into business together.
Lala details the lives and domestic dramas of her uncles’ families. She explains that Uncle Fat-Face and Aunty Licha live in a house that looks “like an elephant sat on the roof” (10). She explains that they have a tumultuous relationship, insinuating that Uncle Fat-Face has had many affairs. Aunty Licha is constantly jealous and once threatened suicide with a kitchen knife, shouting “¡¡¡Me maaaaaaaatooooooo!!!” (“I’m going to kill myself!”).
Lala also describes the home of Uncle Baby and Aunty Ninfa, explaining that it is filled with fancy, overstuffed items and that they live “like movie stars” (10). Lala reasons that their luxurious lifestyle—which cause their house to smell like “air-conditioning and cigarettes” (10) can be traced back to her Aunty Ninfa’s Italian heritage.
The house of Lala’s family, however, smells like “fried tortillas” (10), and is furnished by furniture-on-loan and hand-me-downs (mostly old pieces discarded by Aunty Ninfa). She notes that their home is also filled with knick knacks the family has accumulated from going to the Maxwell Street flea market every Sunday.
Lala describes the sensation of crossing the border to Mexico, where everything feels magnified: the light feels sharper, the colors brighter, the “sweets sweeter” (17). She describes all the small differences between Chicago and Mexico City that fascinate and confuse her as a child, including “Birthday cakes walking out of the bakery without a box,” “Cornflakes served with hot milk!” (17), and vibrant street vendors of flan, fruit, flags, and balloons. She describes sights, sounds, and smells as more intense in Mexico, reflecting, “Every year I cross the border, it’s the same—my mind forgets. But my body always remembers” (18).
Lala explains how treacherous the old highway through the Sierra Madre used to be, with roads “so narrow the truck drivers have to open their doors to see how close they are to the edge” (20), dotted with crosses from place where cars fell and people died.
In “the middle of nowhere” (20), Lala’s father makes a pit stop and three barefoot children from a nearby village come to inspect them. Lala’s father recognizes their poverty and gives some of his children’s toys to them—including Lala’s doll—saying, “I’ll buy you another one” (20).
The family stops in Querétaro, just north of Mexico City, for the day. The grandmother orders that Lala receive a haircut, and the barber cuts off her two long braids. Her brothers make fun of her, saying she looks like a boy (though her oldest brother, Rafa, jokes that the only thing worse than being a boy is being a girl). Lala is distraught by the loss of her hair, and her father comforts her with the promise that he will have it woven into a hairpiece when she’s older.
Lala remembers that, one summer, Rafa stayed behind in Mexico City for a year instead of returning with the family to Chicago after the annual trip. He goes to military school and is raised strictly by the Awful Grandmother, feeling abandoned and isolated without “enough words to speak the things inside [himself]” (23).
The family finally arrives in Mexico City, and Lala imagines all the signs, busses, and streets shouting “hurray” (25-26). The Awful Grandmother greets them with her black rebozo de bolita tossed over her shoulders like a “big black X at the map’s end” (26).
Lala breaks down the various names and nicknames of family members. She explains that her brothers’ names—Rafa, Ito, Tikis, Toto, Lolo, and Memo—were shortened from Rafael, Refugio, Gustavo, Alberto, Lorenzo, and Guillermo when the youngest siblings couldn’t pronounce the names of the eldest siblings.
Lala then explains the names of her cousins, aunts, and uncles. Uncle Fat-Face and Aunty Licha have children named Byron, Aristotle, and Elvis, despite the fact that Elvis Presley earned a bad name among Mexicans by refusing to kiss a Mexican woman for a movie set in Acapulco. She tells the reader that Antonieta Araceli—the daughter of Norma (Aunty Light-Skin)—is still endearingly referred to as “mi gorda” (“my chubby”) even though she is now “thin as a shadow” (28).
The names Uncle Fat-Face and Uncle Baby are also pet names assigned by the Awful Grandmother, names which both men have long since outgrown (and no longer describe them). The grandmother simply refers to Lala’s father as “mijo” (my son), signaling her favoritism (29). Lala’s father also earned the lifelong name “Tarzan” from a mishap when he fell (and broke both his arms) while trying to swing from a tree as a child.
Chapter 9 is a portrait of Lala’s Aunt Norma, aka Aunty Light-Skin. Lala describes her as an exceedingly elegant woman who is much better dressed than most other women who work in local offices. Despite being a secretary, she wears stylish, sophisticated clothing from Marshall Fields and Carson Pirie Scott. The other women in Lala’s family suggest that her aunt gets the money for these clothes from her boss, who finds her attractive.
The chapter also mentions that Aunty Light-Skin used to be married to a man the family refers to as “the man whose name no one is supposed to mention” (32), and that this man is the father of her daughter.
Lala meets an adolescent girl named Candelaria who is the daughter of a Native Mexican washerwoman who regularly does laundry for the Awful Grandmother. Though Lala notes that the washerwoman is a tired-looking woman—“hard and dry and squeezed of all water” (34)—she marvels at Candelaria’s caramelo-like skin:
bright as a copper veinte centavos coin after you’ve sucked it. Not transparent as an ear like Aunty Light-Skin. Not shark-belly pale like Father and The Grandmother. Not the red river clay color of Mother and her family. Not the coffee-with-too-much-milk color like me, nor the fried-tortilla color of the washerwoman Amparo, her mother. Not like anybody. Smooth as peanut butter, deep as burnt-milk candy (34).
Lala reflects that until she met Candelaria, she thought the only beautiful women were blonde and light-skinned.
Candelaria has a sweet, light-hearted personality. She plays games with Lala and tells her that, someday, she dreams of being an actress in telenovelas. Lala becomes fascinated with her (a fixation that foreshadows a later revelation that Candelaria is Lala’s sister).
Lala’s cousin, Antonieta Araceli, refuses to let Candelaria near her, believing she is a dirty “Indian.” Antonieta Araceli starts a rumor among Lala and her brothers that Candelaria doesn’t wear underwear. During a game of tag, the brothers furtively check and determine that Candelaria does wear underwear—albeit a different kind than they’re accustomed to—and they feel ashamed.
One day, Lala gets lice. Her mother then forbids Lala to play with Candelaria, assuming she got the lice from her. Lala feels hurt and confused by her family members’ prejudicial treatment toward Candelaria, wondering how anyone can be so unkind toward someone with skin like caramelo: “a color so sweet, it hurts even to look at her” (37).
The Awful Grandmother is shocked when Lala’s father announces his desire to find a silk rebozo for his daughter. The grandmother explains that authentically hand-crafted rebozos are almost impossible to find these days and come at a dear price.
One day, while the Awful Grandmother and the Little Grandfather are out, Lala and her brothers go to investigate a room that the grandmother keeps private. In the room, they find numerous mementos of the grandmother and grandfather’s past, including an embroidered pillow that reads, “Eres mi destino. Amor eterno—Narciso y Soledad” (42), an old faded photograph of the grandfather when he was young (wearing a striped suit and “leaning on someone who’s been cut out” (43)), and a framed paper with gold seals that honors the grandfather for being loyal to the Mexican government during the war.
The grandfather returns suddenly, and Rafa makes a show of assembling his younger siblings and cousins like troops, playing to the grandfather’s pride in his military past. The grandfather rewards this display by tossing coins into the air, saying, “Who loves Grandfather?” (45).
It’s Lala’s father’s birthday, and the Awful Grandmother greets her son by bursting into his bedroom in the very early morning with the whole family in tow. The grandmother then leads them in singing “The Little Mornings” (in lieu of “Happy Birthday to You”).
Lala’s father is sleepy and doesn’t much appreciate being woken up early in the day. Lala’s mother is even more annoyed at being woken, though no one listens to her complaints.
The Awful Grandmother throws a birthday party for Lala’s father. Large groups of friends gather to drink, share his favorite mole dish, and listen to a singer named Señor Coochi. The grandmother encourages Lala to talk to the adults, and Señor Coochi teases her, promising her a “bed fit for a princess […] with a canopy with lace curtains white-white like the veils for Holy Communion” (52) if she moves into his house. Young Lala thinks his promise is in earnest, and she agrees (and then feels dismayed when he ignores her for the rest of the evening).
Lala can’t finish her mole, and the Awful Grandmother tells her she cannot get up until she cleans her plate. The Little Grandfather, however, sees her and takes pity on her. He feeds the remaining portion of her food to a dog and gives the maid the empty plate. He then tells her the story of a prince who fell in love with a princess, then tragically killed her:
[…] as he watched her die, he was so overcome with her beauty that he knelt down and wept. And then they both turned into volcanoes. And there they are […] One lying down, and one hunched over watching her. There. That’s how you know it’s true […] I suppose that’s how Mexicans love, I suppose (57).
Lala senses that this story is a metaphor for the Little Grandfather’s marriage to the Awful Grandmother.
Lala goes upstairs to hide from the party and notices that the dining room wall has caved in. Plaster bits are everywhere. She then announces this to her family members, dissolving the party as the adults ponder what to do about the damage.
When the guests leave, the grandmother takes out a stack of fotonovelas and comic books she has been saving for her son. Lala’s father then spends the day reading in bed while his mother brings him meals on a tray. The chapter lists the titles of the fotonovelas, most of which—ironically—deal with women who have been betrayed in love.
Lala’s mother begins to feel overwhelmed by the unspoken tension between her, the grandmother, and Aunty Light-Skin. To escape the house, she takes Lala for a walk through Mexico City, and they stop to eat lunch at a restaurant. Lala is delighted to spend a rare moment alone with her mother. Her mother also seems relieved and happy, asking Lala, “Is there anything else you want, Cinderella?” (66).
Back at the house, Lala mentions their outing to the restaurant, and the grandmother makes a disgusted face. Lala’s mother becomes angry with her for “telling” (66), and Lala feels confused, as she didn’t know their outing was supposed to be kept a secret. Her mother and father then erupt into an argument, and her mother screams, “I can’t stand it anymore […] I can’t even open the refrigerator and eat an apple if I feel like it” (66).
The grandmother’s maid becomes weary of her harsh demands and suddenly quits. Desperate for a replacement, the grandmother hires Candelaria as her new maid.
Lala’s father and mother go to Acapulco for a few days to escape the stress of the household while the dining room is being repaired. The trip is supposed to be an excursion for just the two of them, but Lala’s father invites his mother (much to Zoila’s dismay), and soon, the whole family—including Candelaria—tags along.
The narrative then jumps forward in time, revealing that the Awful Grandmother sends Candelaria away from the vacation on a bus with her Mexico City address pinned to her slip. The address becomes lost, somehow, and Candelaria then appears on television “crying and crying telenovela tears” (69) with the prompt to call the station’s number “if you recognize this lady” (69).
Chapter 17 jumps back in time, providing a series of sensory fragments from the trip to Acapulco. The grandmother tells the story of what life was like before the highways were built, and the emperor of China sent Cortes a gift of two giant vases on the backs of burros. According to the grandmother, the vases were sent all the way back to China because the mountain roads were too treacherous for the vases to make the full journey. Lala notes that the mountains are very green, and in Taxco, they stop to eat green rice.
In Acapulco, the family stays at the home of Catita, the “ugly twin” sister of Señor Vidaurri, a man with a “burnt face” and long gray braids. The weather is hot and the air is pungent with smells: “rotten bananas […] rotten flowers […] and the lazy, sweet tang of chocolat” (75).
The novel jumps to the moment referenced at the very beginning of Part 1, wherein a beach photographer takes the family portrait without Lala: un recuerdo.
Candelaria and Lala spend much of the day together at the beach. Candelaria even weaves a rose for Lala out of braided palm fronds. The chapter ends with Lala’s own memory snapshot of Candelaria playing happily in the ocean: “the water shimmering […] Candelaria sparkling like a shiny water bird. The sun so bright it makes her even darker” (79).
As Lala explains, this moment of happiness is soon eclipsed by a family blow-out between her mother, her grandmother, and her father. This blow-out results in Candelaria’s cruel dismissal on the bus, as she—being the child of Lala’s father and the product of his affair—is the indirect subject of their anger. Lala, however, does not know or understand why they are sending Candelaria away, and she is distraught.
After Candelaria’s bus leaves, the family goes for an outing on a boat. The wind whips Candelaria’s palm rose from Lala’s hair, and Lala dissolves into anguish.
When the family leaves in the car, Lala’s mother suddenly erupts into a tirade against him, calling him a liar as she “hammer[s] Father’s neck and shoulders with her fists” (83). She jumps out of the car and runs through the crowded street while they pursue her. Meanwhile, the grandmother chides, “Let her be. You’re better off without her kind. Wives come and go, but mothers, you have only one!” (85).
Lala’s mother, Zoila, then orders her husband to choose between her and the grandmother: “Her…Or me” (86).
Cisneros introduces the themes of storytelling and memory with the family photo from Acapulco (from which Lala is conspicuously absent). Lala significantly notes that, in Spanish, the word for a souvenir photograph—un recuerdo—means “a remembrance literally” (4). She also reflects, “It’s as if I’m the photographer walking along the beach with the tripod camera on my shoulder asking ¿Un recuerdo? A souvenir? A memory?” (4), speaking to her role as the author of Caramelo, the documentarian of family recuerdos, or memories.
Part 1 also explores the fluid and ever-changing nature of Lala’s memories and experiences (as her family moves back and forth across the Mexico-US border). Lala takes frequent inventory of her surroundings, from various objects in the apartments of her Chicago family members to the very different environment of her grandmother’s home in Mexico City, including birthday cakes, cornflakes with hot milk, and various wares from street vendors. Everything seems more vibrant and alive in Mexico, prompting Lala to admit that her mind forgets these things while her body continues to remember them. With this reflection, Lala begins to insinuate her participation in a sensory legacy that extends well beyond superficial observations: a familial language and legacy so deep, her “body always remembers” (18).
Lala’s childish perspective also addresses familial gender and marital dynamics. As the only daughter in a family of six sons, Lala is especially aware of gendered treatment (and the different ways family members behave toward females). Lala observes how her grandmother treats her father much better than his older brothers, Uncle Baby and Uncle Fat-Face. She also observes how her grandmother mistreats her Aunty Light-Skin and her mother, Zoila, simply because they are women. By extension, Lala’s father behaves differently at the grandmother’s home in Mexico City than he does at their home in Chicago, transitioning from a hardworking, self-sacrificing man to a spoiled boy who spends long hours in his room reading fotonovelas. With the introduction of the fotonovelas, Cisneros suggests romantic betrayal on the part of Lala’s father via the topical nature of the fotonovelas—they all deal with women betrayed by love.
Lala also examines troubling racial prejudice toward her mother (whom her grandmother frequently refers to as dark-skinned, like an “Indian”), and to her new friend Candelaria (a Native Mexican girl who is the daughter of Soledad’s washerwoman). Though Lala does not understand the source of this prejudicial behavior, she later learns that it originates from a place of fear (specifically, from Soledad’s personal class and racial anxieties as a woman who “married up” in her union with Narciso). Lala also later learns that, not only is Narciso a member of Soledad’s own Reyes family (by blood), Candelaria is actually her sister (the product of her father’s long-ago affair). Thus, Soledad projects her own complicated feelings about the family’s bloodline via her cruelty toward those she perceives as “less than” her family.
Part 1 also begins to develop caramelo (and candy-like sweetness) as a significant motif, with Lala marveling over Candelaria’s skin like caramelo: “a color so sweet, it hurts even to look at her” (37).
By Sandra Cisneros