I recall a story about Sandra Cisneros’s reaction when critics of her novel Caramelo claimed she was being “experimental” by using footnotes and other “postmodern” literary devices.
She responded, That’s not experimental. That’s Mexican!
I’m not sure if this story is true, but I want it to be, and it makes sense.
I’m going to provide suggestions on the paths one can take walking through the rooms of this collection, a technique that echoes both Ana Castillo and Julio Cortázar, two great Latinx writers who have done this in The Mixquiahuala Letters and Rayuela, respectively. These alternative paths are therefore not “experimental” or an attempt to be “postmodern”; rather, they are a Latinx perspective on multiple ways of experiencing a text.
If you look for thematic meanings in a text, this would be the way to read it:
After reading the above stories in that order, please refer back to the original Order of Things as a way in which to finish the rest of the book.
If you spent your childhood imagining that you could enter into other dimensions, if you imagined walking into a mirror and finding a reverse universe, or you wanted to find a secret passage in your house, like a panel in the floor of some dark closet at the end of the hallway, then the following order would work best:
After reading the above stories in that order, you can refer back to the original Order of Things.
This is a work of Chicano literature. Most readers will know that before they buy the book or before they open it, and Chicano literature is one of the fibers of the Latinx literary fabric. If you are interested in what makes this book “Chicano,” why it is Latinx literature as opposed to just literature or American literature, this would be the best way to enter the book:
After reading the above stories in that order, do whatever you want with the rest of them.
Open the table of contents and skim over the titles. If one strikes you, say “The Cauldron” or “Furry Spider,” read it.
This is the best way to read this book.