As the millions of fans of Like Water for Chocolate know, Laura Esquivel is a romanticist whose novels explore the power of love and the truths of the human heart. She returns to those themes in Swift as Desire, the story of a loving and passionate man who has the gift of bringing happiness to everyone except his own wife.
The hero of this novel is Júbilo Chi, a telegraph operator who is born with the ability to “hear” people’s true feelings and respond to their most intimate, unspoken desires. His life changes forever the day he falls deeply and irrevocably in love with Lucha, the beautiful daughter of a wealthy family. She believes money is necessary to insure happiness, while for Júbilo, who is poor, love and desire are more important than possessions. But their passion for each other enables them to build a happy life together until their idyll is shattered by a terrible event that drives them bitterly apart. Only years later, as Júbilo lies dying, is his daughter able to unravel the mystery behind her parents’ long estrangement and bring about a surprising reconciliation.
|Publisher:||Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group|
|Product dimensions:||5.18(w) x 7.97(h) x 0.45(d)|
About the Author
Laura Esquivel is the award-winning author of Like Water for Chocolate, which has sold more than four and a half million copies around the world in thirty-five languages, as well as The Law of Love and, most recently Between Two Fires. She lives in Mexico City.
Hometown:Mexico City, Mexico
Date of Birth:September 30, 1951
Place of Birth:Mexico City, Mexico
Read an Excerpt
He was born happy and on a holiday. Welcomed into the world by his whole family, gathered together for the special day. They say his mother laughed so hard at one of the jokes being told around the table that her waters broke. At first she thought the dampness between her legs was urine that she had not been able to contain because of her laughter but she soon realized that this was not the case, that the torrent was a signal that her twelfth child was about to be born. Still laughing, she excused herself and went to her bedroom. As she had gone through eleven previous deliveries, this one took only a few minutes, and she gave birth to a beautiful boy who, instead of coming into the world crying, entered it laughing.
After bathing, doña Jesusa returned to the dining room. "Look what happened to me!" she announced to her relatives. Everyone turned to look at her, and, revealing the tiny bundle she held in her arms, she said, "I laughed so hard, the baby came out."
A loud burst of laughter filled the dining room and everyone enthusiastically applauded the happy occasion. Her husband, Librado Chi, raised his arms and exclaimed, "Qué júbilo!""What joy!"
And that was what they named him. In truth, they could not have chosen a better name. Júbilo was a worthy representative of joy, of pleasure, of joviality. Even when he became blind, many years later, he always retained his sense of humor. It seemed as if he had been born with a special gift for happiness. And I don't mean simply a capacity for being happy, but also a talent for bringing happiness to everyone around him. Wherever he went, he was accompanied by a chorus of laughter. No matter how heavy the atmosphere, his arrival, as if by magic, would always ease tension, calm moods, and cause the most pessimistic person to see the brighter side of life, as if, above all else, he had the gift of bringing peace. The only person with whom this gift failed him was his wife, but that isolated case constituted the sole exception to the rule. In general, there was no one who could resist his charm and good humor. Even Itzel Ay, his paternal grandmotherthe woman who, after her son had married a white woman, had been left with a permanent frown etched on her foreheadbegan to smile when she saw Júbilo. She called him Che'ehunche'eh Wich, which in the Mayan language means "the one with the smiling face."
The relationship between doña Jesusa and doña Itzel was far from good until after Júbilo was born. Because of race. Doña Itzel was one hundred percent Mayan Indian and she disapproved of the mixing of her race's blood with doña Jesusa's Spanish blood. For many years, she had avoided visiting her son's home. Her grandchildren grew up without her being very involved in their lives. Her rejection of her daughter-in-law was so great that for years she refused to speak to her, arguing that she couldn't speak Spanish. So doña Jesusa was forced to learn Mayan in order to be able to speak with her mother-in-law. But she found it very difficult to learn a new language while raising twelve children, so communication between the two was sparse and of poor quality.
But all that changed after Júbilo was born. As she desired with all her soul to be near the baby, his grandmother began to visit her son's house again, which had never happened with the other grandchildren, as if she had no great interest in them. But from the first moment she saw Júbilo, she became fascinated with his smiling face. Jubilo was a blessing to the family; he appeared like a gift from heaven that no one expected. A beautiful gift that they didn't know what to do with. The difference in age between him and the youngest of his siblings was several years, and a few of his older brothers and sisters were already married and had children of their own. So it was almost as if Júbilo were an only child, and his playmates were his nieces and nephews, who were the same age as he. Because his mother was busy simultaneously fulfilling the roles of mother, wife, grandmother, mother-in-law, and daughter-in-law, Júbilo spent a lot of time in the company of the servants, until his grandmother adopted him as her favorite gran child. They spent most of the day together, taking walks, playing, talking. Of course, his grandmother spoke to him in Mayan, which meant that Júbilo became doña Itzel's first bilingual grandchild. And so, from the age of five, the child became the family's official interpreter. This was a fairly complicated matter for a small child, as he had to take into account that when doña Jesusa said the word mar, she was referring to the sea in front of their home, where the family often swam. On the other hand, when doña Itzel said the word K'ak'nab, she wasn't referring only to the sea, but also to the "lady of the sea," which is the name given to one of the phases of the moon and is associated with large bodies of water. Both of these entities have the same name in Mayan. So, as Júbilo translated, not only did he have to be aware of these subtleties, but he also had to pay attention to his mother's and grandmother's tone of voice, the tension in their vocal cords, as well as the expression on their faces and the set of their mouths. It was a difficult task, but one which Júbilo performed with great pleasure. Of course, he didn't always translate literally. He always added a kind word or two to soften the exchange between the two women. Over time, this little trick managed to help them get along a little better each day, and they eventually grew to love one another.
This experience helped Júbilo to discover the power of words for bringing people closer or pushing them apart, and that the important thing wasn't what was said, but the intention behind the communication. This sounds simple, but it is in fact very complicated. When Júbilo's grandmother gave him a message to translate, generally the words didn't coincide with what she really wanted to say. The tension around her mouth and vocal cords gave her away. Even to an innocent child like Júbilo, it was obvious that his grandmother was making an effort to swallow her words. But, as strange as it sounds, Júbilo heard the silent words clearly, even though they had never been spoken. And he understood that this "voice" that remained silent was the one that truly represented his grandmother's desires. So Júbilo, without thinking much about it, frequently translated those imperceptible murmurings instead of the words she spoke out loud. Of course, it never crossed his mind to do this to be naughty, just the opposite; his ultimate objective was always to reconcile these two women, both of them so beloved and important to him, to say out loud the magic word that neither of them ever dared to speak, the word that had to do with repressed desires. The frequent disagreements that arose between his mother and his grandmother were a clear example of this. Júbilo had no doubt that when one of them said black, she really meant white, and vice versa.
At his young age, what he didn't understand was why these two women made their lives, and as a consequence the lives of everyone around them, so complicated, since any argument between them had repercussions on all the rest of the family. There was never a strife-free day. They always found reasons to fight. If one said that Indians were lazier than Spaniards, the other would say that Spaniards smelled worse than Indians. There was no shortage of arguments, but without a doubt, the most sensitive were those that had to do with the life and customs of doña Jesusa. Doña Itzel had always worried that her grandchildren would be brought up in a lifestyle that, to her way of thinking, wasn't appropriate for them. This had been one of the main reasons why she had avoided coming to the house in the past. She had wanted to avoid seeing how her daughter-in-law was raising the grandchildren like little Spaniards, but now she was back and was determined to save Júbilo, her favorite grandchild, from the loss of his cultural heritage. So he wouldn't forget his origins, she was always telling him Mayan stories and legends as well as accounts of the battles the Mayan Indians had been forced to fight to preserve their history.
The most recent was the War of the Castes, an Indian insurrection during which approximately twenty-five thousand Indians lost their lives, and in which as it happened Júbilo's grandmother herself had played an important role. In spite of the Indians' ultimate defeat, something good came out of that battle, because later her son Librado was placed in charge of one of the country's largest exporters of henequénthe fibers from an agave plant used for making rope and other materials. He had then taken the unusual step of marrying a Spanish woman. Mestizaje, the mixing of races, was not as common in the Yucatán peninsula as it was in other regions conquered by the Spaniards. During the colonial period, Spaniards had rarely spent more than twenty-four hours at a time in the encomiendas, the large royal land grants where the Mayans worked as laborers. They didn't mix with the Indians and when they married they did so in Cuba, with Spanish women, never with Indians. So the marriage of a Mayan Indian man to a Spanish woman was highly unusual. But for doña Itzel this union represented a danger more than something to be proud of. And the proof lay in the fact that none of her grandchildren, except Júbilo, spoke Mayan, and that they preferred to drink hot chocolate made with milk instead of water. For anyone else, it would be amusing to hear the heated discussions these two women held in the kitchen, but not for Júbilo, because he had to translate for them. On these occasions he had to be even more attentive than usual, because he knew anything they said could easily be interpreted as a declaration of war.
One day the air in the kitchen was particularly heated. A couple of hurtful messages had already been hurled across the room, making Júbilo feel very uncomfortable, especially because the unhappiness his grandmother's words caused his mother was obvious. Most unbelievable, though, was that neither woman was really fighting about how to make hot chocolate. That was just a pretext. What doña Itzel was really saying was: "Look, niña, for your information, my forefathers built monumental pyramids, observatories, and sacred temples, and they knew about astronomy and mathematics way before your people, so don't you come trying to teach me anything, especially not how to make hot chocolate."
And doña Jesusa, who had a sharp tongue, had to repress the urge to counter: "Look, woman, you are used to looking down on anyone who is not of your race, because the Mayans are so great and so wonderful, but they are separatists by nature and I'm not about to put up with that kind of snobbishness. If you disdain me so much, then don't come to my house anymore."
Finally the situation grew so tense, and each woman was defending her point of view with such passion, that Júbilo began to fear something terrible would happen. So when his mother, summoning up her courage, said: "Son, tell your abuela that I don't allow anyone to come into my house to tell me how to do things, because I don't take orders from anyone, especially not from her!" Júbilo had no choice but to translate: "Abuela, my mamá says that we don't take orders in this house . . . well, except from you."
Upon hearing these words, doña Itzel changed her attitude completely. For the first time in her life, she felt her daughter-in-law had acknowledged her rightful position. Doña Jesusa, on the other hand, was taken by surprise. She never imagined her mother-in-law would react to such strong aggression with a peaceful smile. After the initial shock she too responded with a smile and, for the first time since her marriage, she felt accepted by her mother-in-law. With just a simple change of meaning, Júbilo had been able to give each of them what they had been seeking: to feel appreciated.
From that day on, doña Itzel, convinced her orders were now being followed to the last letter, stopped interfering in the kitchen; and doña Jesusa, confident that her mother-in-law finally accepted her way of life, was able to approach her suegra, her mother-in-law, affectionately. The whole family returned to normal thanks to Júbilo's mediation, and he in turn felt completely satisfied. He had discovered the power of words and, having acted as his family's translator since his early childhood, it wasn't too surprising that instead of wanting to be a fireman or a policeman, he expressed the desire to become a telegraph operator when he grew up.
This idea crystallized one afternoon as Júbilo lay in his hammock next to his father, listening to him talk. The Mexican Revolution had ended several years earlier, but all kinds of stories were still circulating about what had happened during the war. That afternoon the topic was telegraph operators. Júbilo listened eagerly to his father. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than to wake up from his compulsory siesta to hear his father's stories. The tropical heat forced the family to sleep in hammocks installed at the rear of the house, where there was a breeze from the ocean. There, beside K'ak'nab, they rested and talked. The gentle rhythm of the waves had carried Júbilo off into a deep sleep and the murmur of conversation brought him back in a delicious ebb and flow. Little by little, his father's words intruded upon his sleep and made him aware that he was back at home and that it was time to exercise his imagination. So, setting his tropical drowsiness aside, he rubbed his eyes and devoted himself to listening intently to his father.
Jubilo's father had just begun telling a story he'd heard about General Pancho Villa and his corps of telegraph operators. It has been said that the importance Villa always gave to telecommunications was one of the key factors in his success as a military strategist. He was well aware that it was a powerful weapon and he was very adept at its use. An example of this was the unusual way he used the telegraph in his siege of Ciudad Juarez. Because of its strategic location, the border city was an important stronghold, and it was very well provisioned. Villa didn't want to attack the city from the vulnerable position of the open desert, and he couldn't cross the border for a better approach, so he decided to capture a coal train on its way from Chihuahua to Ciudad Juarez and use it as a kind of Trojan horse. He loaded his troops onto the train and when they reached the first station along the route, they seized the official telegraph operator and replaced him with Villa's own head telegraph man, who sent a telegram to the federales saying: "Villa is pursuing us. What should we do?" Their answer was: "Return to Ciudad Juárez as fast as you can." And that's just what Villa's men did. The coal train arrived in Ciudad Juárez at dawn. The federales allowed it to enter the city and by the time they realized that instead of coal the train was filled with armed men, it was too late. And Villa was able to take Ciudad Juarez with a minimum of bloodshed.
Reading Group Guide
When internationally acclaimed author Laura Esquivel swept onto the scene with her bestselling novel Like Water for Chocolate, a fresh, innovative voice entered the canon of beloved Latin American literature. Now, in Swift as Desire, she explores the power of wordsspoken and unspokento unite souls, and to drive them apart. This guide will help direct your group’s discussion of this unforgettable tale of love and Morse Code.
1. As a child, Júbilo can hear silent words behind the words his mother and grandmother speak, and knows that these silent words represent repressed desires. He considers it his job to translate these repressed desires into a language of emotion. Are these women truly repressing their desire to get along, or is Júbilo projecting his own childish need for them to get along? Since his interpretations cause harmony, does it matter? To what extent do you consider Júbilo’s interpretations meddling?
2. How does Esquivel use the image of Júbilo and Lucha dancing to convey both the power of their love for each other and Júbilo’s sensitivity to currents of energy? Is there any significance to where the dancing scenes are placed in the narrative?
3. There is no concept that disturbs Júbilo more than a message that finds no receiver and languishes without a response. He feels guilty for every unclaimed cosmic signal and devotes his life to acknowledging as many lost messages as possible. What event from his childhood with his Mayan grandmother sparks this obsession? What comment do you think Esquivel is making about modern Mexico’s attitude toward its Mayan heritage?
4. How is Júbilo’s card game with don Pedro a watershed moment in his life? What happens during the game that causes Júbilo to lose his communication with the numbers on the cards, after being in such control? Do you think it is unethical of Júbilo to bet on the boxing championship when he already knows the results, given the objective of the whole evening?
5. How does Esquivel use the sun and rain, and their relationships to electricity, as symbols throughout the book? What is the significance of Lluvia’s nickname? Which characters have a special connection to sunlight—or sunspots—and which have a particular affinity to water? Why?
6. Discuss the significance in the novel of the following statement: “Sometimes good intentions aren’t enough to establish good contact with the cosmos.”
7. Contemplating her father’s situation, Lluvia asks herself: “What was it that my papa didn’t want to see that made him blind? What was it that he was trying to hold in so forcefully that it gave him Parkinson’s disease?” Do you think the mind-body connection is powerful enough to cause these kinds of illnesses? Where else in the novel do you see a link between mental strife and physical ramifications?
8. Do you agree with Lucha that money is necessary to oil the machinery of a happy, loving and productive life? Or with Júbilo, that possessions cause constraint, distorted thinking, and even enslavement? Is this philosophical difference at the root of their marriage’s demise? If not, what is?
9. What does Esquivel mean by “Words travel as swiftly as desire, so it is possible to send a message of love without them”? How does this assertion relate to the fifteen-year silence between Júbilo and Lucha?
10. Why doesn’t Júbilo, who can sense the subtle energy waves of every living thing and can communicate with stars, notice his son’s struggle with death right in the next room?
11. The thirteen-year-old Lucha is described as “unconquerable.” Is this title appropriate for her later in life as well? Do you think Lucha appreciates her husband’s unusual gift for translation? What do you make of her approach to dealing with don Pedro? Why do you think she puts up with his indiscretions so resolutely? Is she too harsh with Júbilo after the tragic death of Ramiro?
12. Esquivel writes, “The only things Júbilo knew how to do were communicate with people and love Lucia. He didn’t know how to do anything else, nor did he want to.” What forces get in the way of these simple goals? Why are “production, industry and technology” named as his foes? Are Júbilo’s aspirations outdated compared to Lucha’s?
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
A tribute to her telegraph operator father, Esquivel's novel about Jubilo, gifted with the ability to hear more than just the words that people say, and his wife and daughter, this doesn't compare to her famous Like Water for Chocolate. Jubilo lies blind, incapacitated by severe Parkinson's Disease and dying. His daughter Lluvia, in whose home he is, brings his friends in to try and entertain her father and in so doing, uncovers the reason why her two very passionate parents haven't been speaking to each other since before her birth. Jubilo and Lucha led a turbulent life with each other, complicated by the fact that Jubilo's second sense about people failed him at crucial times with his wife. The story of Jubilo's life, especially after meeting Lucha, is alternated with his present and his daughter's careful caretaking. Uncovering the mystery that drove her parents apart and helping them to repair their hearts before Jubilo dies is part of what drives Lluvia as she bustles around her father's bedside. Unfortunately the writing here is choppy and lackluster and it takes a real effort for the reader to continue along with the storyline. The mystery itself isn't alluded to until quite a ways into the story and still isn't compelling enough to make the pages turn quickly. Lucha as a character is a rotten, whiny, spoiled brat and there's little to no explanation as to why she would be so appealing to Jubilo and to other men around her. Jubilo as a character is gifted with his almost magical powers (more a heightened sensitivity) and yet Esquivel doesn't choose to show him using this intuition much at all and refers to it most only when it fails him, which makes his character feel more allegorical than real. There are plot lines that seem as if they should be major themes but they peter out for lack of life. All in all, this was a disappointment.
Swift as Desire focuses on Lluvia, a middle aged mother desperately trying to replay her entire life in order to understand her parents¿ mutual anger for one another. Júbilo, her father, was born with an unmatched ability to communicate and understand through feeling rather than words, but is now confined to a bed and unable to speak due to Parkinson¿s. Lluvia¿s mother Lucha was a privileged beauty who gave up everything in order to marry Júbilo, but has now become cold and calculating. The story finds Lluvia desperate to understand her parents¿ past and reconcile them before her father¿s imminent death.The story skips around in time, leaving the reader on edge throughout the entire book. The characters develop smoothly, and leave a deep impression. Nothing is as it seems with the family, which makes an unforgettable read. If readers are looking for another Like Water for Chocolate, they won¿t find it here. Instead, they will find a brutally honest look into the closed doors of a marital relationship and a couple falling apart. It should be noted that the characters are both loveable and hateable- sometimes simultaneously! If you can get past their (sometimes) annoying exteriors, some good can be found in all.
An okay novel about love and understanding through communication. Júbilo is a telegraph operator with the ability to read/see and interpret other people's thoughts and feelings. Júbilo realizes that this is a gift tthat will help to make peoples lives better and drastically improves the relationship between his mother and paternal grandmother. Unfortunately, his gift did not always work in his favor as is apparent in his relationship with his wife which is steamy yet has its moments of turbulence. The book has many slow parts that made it hard for me to continue reading, it took me almost a full week and its only 200 pages.
I picked this book for a school project. When I started to read it, it became more then just the project. The book became an addiction. I couldn't stop reading it. "Swift as Desire" was just the right mix of comedy, romance, and loneliness. Laura Esquivel makes it so you can feel what the character is feeling. This book is good when you think that you hit rock bottom and think that nothing can make it better or just when you want to read something good.
I picked this book up in the La Guardia airport bookshop, in need of a book to read on my long flight back to my hometown. It looked interesting enough from the back cover and definitely lived up to my first impression. I couldn't put it down. Poignant, creative, funny, sexy, and charming, "Swift as Desire" captivates you in the first few pages of the book. Laura Esquivel uses her knack for bittersweet romance and true love to inspire everyone who reads it. It's a book you won't want to put down.
Did not enjoy this book as much as Like Water for Chocolate, and at times it wasn't very interesting. The most touching part was the last chapter, which will bring tears to the eyes of some who read it.