52 pages • 1 hour read
Manuel PuigA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: The source material and study guide contain discussion of murder, torture, political persecution, anti-LGBTQ+ bias (including anti-gay slurs), racism, addiction, suicidal ideation, and child sexual abuse.
Molina, a window dresser incarcerated for “corrupting minors,” is one of the novel’s two primary characters. She is the primary vehicle through which the novel explores The Fluidity of Gender and Orientation, as she describes herself as both gay (i.e., a gay man) and as a woman and adheres to stereotypical female roles throughout the novel. She is sensitive, self-degrading at times, and very expressive, often looking for Valentin’s reassurance, taking care of him while he is ill, and deferring to his wishes when they have sex. Molina’s attraction to Valentin seems to stem partly from the latter’s conventional masculinity; Molina claims that as a “real woman,” she is not romantically interested in gay men. She has a similar interest in a waiter named Gabriel, describing him as a real man, but Gabriel is straight, married, and uninterested in pursuing a relationship.
Valentin is the first heterosexual man, it seems, to accept Molina for who she is. Molina says, “Valentin, you and my mom are the two people that I’ve loved most in the world” (261). This is high praise, as Molina has a very strong relationship with her mother. She claims that childhood was the happiest she’s ever been, and her mother is the source of her motivation throughout the novel’s early chapters: In order to be released so she can take care of her mother, she agrees to help the warden by spying on Valentin. When Molina starts to develop affection for Valentin, these two loyalties come into conflict—a development foreshadowed by Molina’s futile fantasies of being able to care for his mother and Gabriel simultaneously.
To manipulate Valentin into trusting her, Molina tells movie plots to him. However, these storytelling sessions also serve as a way for Molina to escape into a fantasy world, developing the theme of The Meaning and Value of Liberation. She identifies “always with the heroine” in these movies (25), going into great detail when describing them. The singer in the Nazi propaganda movie, for instance, is “very tall, absolutely perfect [...] layers and layers of hanging tulle [...] The most divine woman you can imagine” (50). For Molina, who is assigned male at birth, these descriptions provide access to normative femininity. They are also a way of escaping the reality of her incarceration; she goes into great detail describing the people and settings in her narratives, fleshing out a fantasy world that allows her to avoid her day-to-day reality.
As the relationship between Valentin and Molina deepens, the power dynamics between them shift. Molina stops acting on behalf of the warden and ultimately dies in an attempt to pass on a message to Valentin’s political group. Her last request from Valentin is for a kiss—a romantic request in keeping with the kinds of movies Molina idolizes. Like the heroines in many of those movies, Molina dies sacrificing herself for a man, though as Molina has talked about happiness being fleeting and wanting to die happy, it is possible that this is just what she would have wanted.
A Marxist political revolutionary, Valentin is the novel’s other primary character. He is being held as a political prisoner and is unsure when or if he will be released. His views are very different from Molina’s. Dedicated to the revolution, even from his cell, Valentin chooses to study every day. He refuses to confess to anything, even after being tortured and held in solitary confinement. In the early chapters especially, he therefore expresses contempt for Molina’s escapism, arguing that she would be better served channeling her energies into politics. In some ways, however, he is as removed from the “real world” as Molina. Molina’s fantasizing does not preclude her from indulging in bodily pleasures (food, sex, etc.), but Valentin’s materialist politics manifest in asceticism: He misses Marta, his ex-girlfriend, but chose the revolution instead of her.
Though Valentin is politically committed to gender equality, he embodies traditionally “masculine” qualities and is initially dismissive of Molina. When Molina asks if he is “afraid” to discuss the idea of sex with her (and thus broader questions of gender and orientation), he says, “Just not my bag. I already know all about yours” (17). However, as the novel progresses, he softens; he not only sleeps with but comes to care for Molina, telling her, “Molina, promise me you don’t let anybody push you around” (261). This assumption of the protector role is in keeping with conventional masculinity, so it is in some ways more telling that Valentin begins to show emotional vulnerability in his interactions with Molina, as when he confides in her regarding Marta.
Although Valentin is oppressed and manipulated throughout the novel, he remains dedicated to the movement. Arguably, it is Valentin rather than Molina who ultimately fills the role of the “spider woman”; in kissing Molina, he may simply be expressing affection, but he may also hope that doing so will convince her to do what he wants—namely, pass on a message to his political group. His ultimate fate is similarly ambiguous, as the novel ends with him in morphine-induced sleep as he recovers from torture. Valentin seems poised to physically recover, but whether he will seek out Marta or double down on his political commitments is less certain.
The warden is the novel’s most straightforward antagonist, as his role is to get Valentin to confess. He places Valentin in solitary confinement and uses Molina as a spy to obtain information from him, preying on Molina’s desperation to be released and reunite with her mother in the process. The warden is a manipulative character who poisons Valentin’s food and threatens Molina, but it is unclear if the warden is doing this by choice or if he, like Molina, is simply a pawn.
Marta appears only in Valentin’s dialogue and dreams, but as his former girlfriend, she is a significant secondary character. He fantasizes about being with her and compares her favorably to his current girlfriend, saying Marta “never let herself be manipulated, like the typical female” (139). Ironically, it is because of this that their relationship ended: Marta made her own choices, and when it came to fighting for the cause, which she joined at the same time as Valentin, she ultimately chose to abandon it. As Valentin explains, “She became too attached to life, too happy with me. Our relationship alone sufficed for her” (138). Marta, unlike Valentin, was willing to live for love, not political change: She didn’t want to sacrifice herself for the cause but to have a life with Valentin. Although this choice led to their breakup, Valentin holds Marta in high regard and is unable to forget her.
Gabriel is a straight, married waiter who is the object of many of Molina’s fantasies. It is unclear what his relationship to Molina really is, but when Molina tries to meet up with him following her release, Gabriel seems uninterested. Everything readers learn about Gabriel comes from Molina, which means details such as his friendship with Molina could be embellished, changed, or made up. What is most important for Molina is the fact that Gabriel is “a real man” (60)—someone who fulfills her heteronormative romantic fantasies.
Molina’s mother is another character who never appears but is mentioned throughout the novel. Molina thinks of her often, describing her as, “a woman suffering so much, tired heart, from forgiving too much? so many hardships her whole life besides a husband that never understood her, and later on the hardship of having a son steeped in vice” (105). Molina’s sense that her mother is suffering because of her reflects her insecurities regarding her gender/gender expression and orientation. Molina is desperate to leave prison to care for her mother; toward the end of the novel, the warden mentions that Molina’s mother seemed in high spirits at the thought of Molina being released, which may or may not be true but speaks to how central Molina’s mother is to her motivations.
Molina at one point reveals that her mother was at the court when Molina was convicted. She smiled at Molina when she was given her sentence and said, “The years go by quickly, and, God willing, I’ll still be alive to see it” (107). The mother, in a moment of devastation, reassures her child that the time will pass quickly, which shows how much she cares for Molina but also how she fears that she will never see her again. At the end, when Molina is being surveilled, it is noted that she spends a great deal of his time with her mother.