Dreaming in Cuban

by

Cristina García

Teachers and parents! Our Teacher Edition on Dreaming in Cuban makes teaching easy.

Dreaming in Cuban: Ocean Blue Summary & Analysis

Summary
Analysis
It’s 1972, and Celia del Pino is guarding Cuba’s northern coast. She does so while wearing her best housedress and pearl earrings, sitting on her wicker porch swing. She scans the sky and ocean with binoculars. Celia was voted by her neighborhood committee to serve as the lookout for her town of Santa Teresa del Mar, a big honor.
The image of Celia serving as a lookout for her town while dressed up in her best outfit is peculiar, as it’s not yet clear who she is or why she was chosen for this role. Her willingness to do so at the very least suggests that Celia’s devotion to Cuba is deeply important to her.
Themes
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Celia listens to a radio broadcast which replays an encouraging message from El Líder, praising the people for defending Cuba against aggressors 11 years ago. She then touches up her red lipstick and darkens the mole on her cheek using an eyebrow pencil. Her sleepy-eyed grandson, Ivanito, appears in the doorway, and Celia tucks him back into bed. After she resumes her post and looks through her binoculars once more, she sees a radiant light in the distance.
Fidel Castro—referred to throughout as El Líder, or “the leader”—appears as the first man in Celia’s life in the novel, which sets Castro up as figure who’s perhaps even more significant to Celia than any husband or family she may have. The reference to 11 years ago is to the Bay of Pigs, a failed 1961 attempt by Cuban exiles (backed by the United States) to invade Cuba and thwart Castro’s revolution. The fact that Celia still takes encouragement from this decade-old message from Castro—even touching up her make up in response-- suggests that her devotion to him borders on obsession, and that her own identity is tied to Cuba’s past.
Themes
History and Personal Identity Theme Icon
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Out of this light emerges Celia’s husband, Jorge. He is taller than the palm trees and walking on the water, wearing a white suit and Panama hat. He smiles at Celia, and his eyes emit blue beams that illuminate the beach. He moves his mouth as if speaking, but Celia can’t tell what he’s saying—she can only feel the warm wind of his breath. Then, Jorge disappears. Celia paces the beach, calling, “Jorge, I couldn’t hear you.”
Jorge’s bizarre appearance as a kind of supernatural being is the first element of magical realism in the novel. Celia appears to take his unexplained, larger-than-life appearance for granted, not something to be disbelieved. It’s unclear what his ghostly presence signifies at this point, but Celia’s inability to hear him speak perhaps suggests a kind of symbolic disconnect in communication between the couple.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
A letter had arrived from Jorge that morning. Celia reads it again, surprised by the passion of the words. The handwriting is ornately old-fashioned. She thinks that when Jorge wrote the letter, he must have known he was going to die. She remembers when he was wheeled onto an airplane to New York years ago, ranting about Cuba. Celia grieves “not for his death […] but for his mixed-up allegiances.”
Celia’s surprise at Jorge’s passion suggests that there have been difficulties in their marriage. Now, Jorge’s ghostly appearance confirms to Celia that her husband has died, and it’s his “mixed-up allegiances,” presumably his anti-Cuban stance, that grieve her the most.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Get the entire Dreaming in Cuban LitChart as a printable PDF.
Dreaming in Cuban PDF
Before the revolution, Jorge worked as an electric broom and portable fan salesman for an American company; he traveled five weeks out of six. He wanted to be a “model Cuban,” wearing his suit even on the hottest days of the year. Celia isn’t sure whether separation or death is worse. She’s used to separation, but not to its permanence.
Celia and Jorge have endured the strain of separation in their marriage before, but Jorge’s stints away from home were never permanent. The fact that Celia isn’t sure whether separation or death is worse implies that Jorge’s absence impacted her greatly while he was alive, to the point that his death might even be preferable to her. On another note, Jorge’s desire to be a “model Cuban” during his life suggests that he wasn’t always “mixed-up” in his allegiances—he was seemingly devoted to Cuba prior to the revolution.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Celia marvels that if El Líder had signed with a Major League baseball team, as nearly happened, then her life might have been completely different. But because El Líder returned to Cuba and started a revolution instead, Celia and her husband will be buried in separate countries, and their offspring are “nomads.”
Fidel Castro’s pitching prowess is largely myth—Castro was never scouted by Major League Baseball—but it’s a piece of propaganda which Celia devoutly believes. In her mind, Castro’s turn to politics instead of baseball changed her life by transforming her political identity and driving her and her family apart due to divergent alliances.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
History and Personal Identity Theme Icon
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Celia sometimes receives letters from her granddaughter, Pilar, written in awkward Spanish. She knows Pilar is an abstract painter and that she hides a diary in her coat lining. Celia approves of the secret diary. She sometimes speaks to Pilar in the night, and she does so now.
Celia and Pilar have a special bond across generations—and apparently across vast distance. Celia’s ability to speak to her granddaughter across the distance is another bit of magical realism that’s never fully explained but left for the reader to wonder about.
Themes
Intergenerational Conflict Theme Icon
Presently, Celia wades into the ocean. She remembers something a santera told her 40 years ago: “there’s a wet landscape in your palm.” This turned out to be true. Celia has lived by the ocean for so long that she knows all its shades of blue.
A santera is an initiate of Santería, an Afro-Cuban religion which plays a prominent role in the novel. Celia isn’t a practitioner, but she dabbles in aspects of the religion throughout her life. It seems that the santera’s accurate prediction—that her life would revolve around an ocean landscape—contributed to Celia’s respect for Santería.
Themes
Religious Diversity Theme Icon
Celia and Jorge moved into the house by the sea in 1937. Jorge bought her an upright piano and stocked it with sheet music—everything but Debussy, whose “restless” style the doctors warn him against. But Celia just hides her Debussy music and plays it nonstop while Jorge is traveling. Celia recalls that music now as she floats in the ocean. It reminds her of meeting with her Spanish lover, before Jorge.
In the novel, characters often shift across timelines without warning as they reflect on events from their pasts. Here, it’s hinted that Celia suffered psychological difficulties when she was younger, and that these were in some way connected with her old lover. Given the implied conflict that she and Jorge had during their marriage, it’s also possible that Celia’s feelings for this Spanish lover exacerbated their marital problems when Jorge was alive.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
Weighted down in the water, Celia considers just dropping below the surface, but instead she swims back to shore. She pulls Jorge’s letter out of her pocket to dry, and she waits for morning.
In light of Jorge’s death, Celia seems to momentarily consider whether her life is still worth living. She apparently decides that it is, though she still grieves his loss.
Themes
Passion, Romance, and Marriage Theme Icon
Felicia del Pino. Early the next morning, Felicia pulls up to Celia’s house in her 1952 De Soto, honking the horn. Screaming for her mother, she flings herself awkwardly out of the car and onto the porch. Celia is rocking on the swing. “I know already,” she tells Felicia, who weeps on her mother’s lap. Celia explains that Jorge said goodbye to her last night. Felicia is upset that she and her children didn’t get a goodbye, too.
Felicia’s frantic arrival sets the tone for her unpredictable character, which contrasts with her mother’s calmer exterior. She seems to take the possibility of ghostly visits for granted, not to assume that her mother referred to a literal visit, which suggests that Felicia, too, is open to the supernatural. However, her distress suggests that she thinks Jorge cared more about her mother than about her.
Themes
Intergenerational Conflict Theme Icon
Celia changes the subject, asking about Felicia’s sister’s message. Felicia says that, according to Lourdes, the nuns claimed that Jorge ascended to heaven “on tongues of fire.” As Felicia hugs her son, Ivanito, she finally notices that Celia is damp and covered with seaweed. With annoyance, Celia explains that she went for a swim with her clothes on. She instructs Felicia to send a telegram to Felicia’s brother, Javier, who lives in Prague with a Czech wife and baby daughter. Celia hasn’t heard from him since the Soviets stormed Prague four years ago.
Felicia heard about Jorge’s death from her sister, Lourdes, who seems to have been in closer contact with Jorge than the rest of the family. The presence of the nuns at Jorge’s death, and their view of his apparent holiness, indicates that the family has diverse religious views—so far, both Roman Catholic and Santería. Meanwhile, the other sibling in the family, Javier, lives on yet another continent. A picture emerges of a far-flung family that’s been dealing with estrangement for some time.
Themes
Intergenerational Conflict Theme Icon
Religious Diversity Theme Icon
Felicia gets into her car. The steam rising off the roof of her green car reminds her of the tidal wave in 1944, when Felicia was six. Felicia had picked up a beautiful shell on the beach, but Celia, hastily packing their valuables in a suitcase, scolded her for bringing bad luck into the house. Seventy homes were washed away by the tidal wave, though the del Pinos’ brick and cement house was merely flooded. When the family returned, the house was filled with shells.
Throughout the story, shells are associated with Felicia’s poor fortunes, though Felicia herself is somewhat obsessed with them. In the form of a childhood memory, the symbolism of shells comes into her mind as she absorbs the news of her father’s death, suggesting that Jorge’s death will be a turning point toward misfortune in her adult life, much like the tidal wave was an ominous turning point in her childhood.
Themes
Obsession and Devotion Theme Icon
Felicia’s daydream is interrupted when her best friend, Herminia Delgado, knocks on her car window. Felicia tells Herminia about her father’s death and his ghost’s appearance. Herminia points out that Jorge’s spirit might be floating around, and she suggests that Felicia consult with La Madrina. Felicia is reluctant because she doesn’t like the blood, but Herminia warns her that if she doesn’t cleanse her soul, she’ll be tormented for life. Felicia agrees, as long as there are no goats involved.
It’s not yet clear who La Madrina is or exactly what a consultation with her would entail, but it obviously involves more complex and bloody rituals than the simple palm reading that Celia underwent in her youth. Although Felicia is squeamish about some of these practices, she believes in their healing potential—and she believes they’re able to bring about some unnamed but necessary healing between her and her father.
Themes
Intergenerational Conflict Theme Icon
Religious Diversity Theme Icon
That night, Felicia drives to a remote, run-down house. Herminia scolds her for being late and possibly making the gods angry. Inside the house, La Madrina, dressed in a white turban and layered skirts, welcomes them into a room filled with candles and incense. Shrines of various gods crowd the room. The god Elleguá inhabits eggs with cowrie-shell faces. Four “mulatta” women are praying before the shrines, and a Yoruban man stands quietly. La Madrina explains that this man has traveled many hours to help Felicia and her father find peace.
Elleguá is a deity of Santería who presides over its rituals. He is also said to be the owner of roads and pathways, suggesting that rituals like this one help determine a person’s next steps in life. The rituals, combining elements of West African and Roman Catholic practice, are elaborate and involve vivid sensory elements.
Themes
Religious Diversity Theme Icon
Felicia is distressed when the man, a santero, announces that Elleguá desires a goat. Herminia tells her she has no choice if she wants the job done right. When the goat is brought in, Felicia has to spit coconut in the animal’s face and kiss and fondle it while the women sing. The santero quickly butchers the goat, letting its blood flow onto Elleguá’s eggs, then adds salt and honey to the offering. Overcome by the smells and the atmosphere, Felicia faints.
Just as she’d feared, Felicia finds the animal sacrifice overwhelming. Though she’s more open to the practices of Santeria than Celia is, Felicia isn’t yet completely comfortable with what it demands of its practitioners. Right now, it’s unclear what effect, if any, the ritual has on Felicia’s healing or her relationship with  her father.
Themes
Religious Diversity Theme Icon