MEMORIES OF EMASCULATION

The repressive climate of Cuban life in the 1960's is represented throughout 'Memories of Underdevelopment' in a number of ways, the most prevalent vehicle throughout the film being an implied feeling of emasculation which the culture imposes on our protagonist.

Beginning almost immediately we feel an undeniable atmospheric pressure of powerlessness and silent anxiety. We are meant to understand that to be an individual, particularly an educated, aspirational individual, in a small, disconnected country, a country thought by some as a climate in which its inhabitants rarely recognize their potential, no less reach it, leaves one feeling utterly small & without power -- why check the oil if the station doesn't even have any?

When this individual happens to be male, it's possible to see this dis-empowering as being played out allegorically - or perhaps literally - as a sort of emasculation. The film nods to this in a number of ways, & with this interpretation in mind even the limp dead canary may charge itself with a particular significance.

To feel incapable of actively shaping & claiming your destiny is a direct affront to the archetypal notion of Manhood. To be made to feel small & insignificant by forces beyond one's control is the antithesis of the classical male aspiration.

We see our protagonist's longing for power of this particular sort when he visits the Cuban home of the American writer Ernest Hemingway. Who else but the man of man's writers, perhaps rivaled by no one for that title but Henry Miller, everyone's favorite American sexual mystic. He moves through Hemingway's house, a vacated structure of pure masculinity, like a temple of ancient ruins, longing for a sort of myth which feels impossibly elusive. When he concludes that Hemingway never even cared about Cuba he sounds not so much resentful but personally ashamed, embarrassed & envious -- like some rookie in the shower comparing lower parts with the oblivious star athlete of his team.

All the while his young fling walks childishly around him, good for very little --- very little save for reminding him relentlessly of his underdeveloped culture & for serving as a sex object.

The multiple women that dot across the narrative serve the important function of directing our attention back to the sexual life of our protagonist, Sergio -- nothing reaffirms one's conception of their masculinity more then the 'taking' of a woman sexually. The quintessential example being the deflowering of a virgin, as we have in the case of Elena. Pursuing & conquering her was his attempt at reclaiming a sort of lost power --- but the irony is that even this prompts a sort of emasculation, as his sexual exploits lead him into passively agreeing to marry a woman he despises and has to sit & defend himself before a court on humiliating charges.

His other approach at staking clam to his rightful role as a man of importance is through his consumption of art & culture, strolling through museums, dressing studiously - but all of this feels forced & transparent, adding a deeper & more complex feeling of pity on the part of the viewer; the sense of a grown man striving for dignity in a hopeless situation.

Sergio attempts to engage in politics as well, attending a revolutionary meeting. At one point an American in the audience stands up and questions why they would all use such an "Impotent" forum such as a round table discussion. Sergio walks back home with his hands in his pockets, a voice over admitting he thought the American was right.