99 pages • 3 hours read
Isabel AllendeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Even though the setting is never explicitly mentioned, The House of the Spirits is assumed to take place against the social and political backdrop of postcolonial Chile. Certain events and characters hint at this, including the earthquake (possibly based off the Great Chilean earthquake in 1960) and the characters of the Poet and the President. The former’s verses appear in the epigraph of the book and come from a poem by Pablo Neruda, while the latter resembles Salvador Allende, the first Marxist president to be elected to power in a liberal democracy in Latin America. The President’s manner of election and the military coup that eventually topples his government likewise reflect actual events surrounding Allende’s tenure, including the coup led by General Augusto Pinochet that eventually replaced it.
Politics and ideology are thus inherently important aspects of the story; they exist in the background but also directly and personally impact the family’s story throughout the book. One of the very first things one learns about Severo del Valle, for instance, is that he has political aspirations; his wife, Nívea, is similarly inclined as a progressive suffragette. Rosa’s death inadvertently results from these very ambitions, as she accidentally consumes poisoned brandy that arrived anonymously for Severo—presumably from one of his political enemies, as it arrives just as he is invited to join the Liberal Party. This death becomes one in a long string of politically mediated tragedies that strike the del Valle family.
The book also explores the close link between politics and personal ideology. While Severo was a member of the Liberal Party, Esteban, whom Clara eventually marries, supports the Conservatives; he goes on to actively become involved in politics as a senator. Esteban’s personal attitudes line up with his right-leaning political ideology. As a landowner, he is adamant about holding absolute power over his tenants; while he provides for them materially, he does not accord them respect or independence, professing his belief that they are incapable of managing either. He views himself as a father figure to his tenants but also feels that, as inherent “inferiors,” they must be ruled with an iron fist. This is in keeping with the general underlying principles of right-wing political ideology, which tends to view social hierarchy as natural and inevitable. These ideas also stand in direct opposition to the Marxist ideology that Esteban’s own son, Jaime, eventually embraces and that Pedro Tercero preaches among the peasants. The story of the fox and the hens, which eventually finds its way into Pedro Tercero’s music, stands as an allegory for the workers uniting and for the inevitable revolution they will lead against those who exploit them.
A further translation of personality into political ideology occurs among characters on the same political side. Miguel does not believe that a democratic revolution will accomplish anything and joins the guerrillas after the fall of the Socialist government. Jaime, on the other hand, is horrified by the violence that surrounds the last presidential election; ironically, it is he who eventually falls victim to this violence and perishes in the coup. On the right, Esteban suggests buying the media to control the narrative and take back power, whereas other members of his party believe it would be beneficial to bribe congress instead; General Hurtado outright suggests a coup to take back power. General alignment with a set of political beliefs, right or left, does not guarantee agreement on the methodology with which to seize power and rule.
Despite depicting politics as personal, however, the book also consistently portrays politics as a male space; Nívea, a politically active woman with independent convictions, is the only exception, and perhaps it is significant that she meets a grisly death. While the women in the story espouse personal beliefs, they do not take independent political action based on these beliefs. Clara opposes Esteban’s brutality with the peasants but is uninterested in political matters, even attending events to support him as senator. Blanca and Alba both fall in love with politically active men, but their support of their respective partners’ activities is motivated by love, not ideological conviction. Irrespective of this, it is the women in the story who bear the consequences of political fanaticism: Rosa’s accidental death, Blanca’s illegitimate child, and Alba’s capture and torture.
The latter in particular is a nuanced situation, with political conviction and personal vendetta intertwining in inextricable ways. Alba’s lack of strong political conviction may help her see past the ideology, understand the cycle of vengeance she is caught in, and break this cycle. The book concludes with this choice, creating the impression that politics and ideology work primarily to provide a context within which to explore ideas of hatred, vengeance, and their repercussions.
An overarching theme throughout the book is that individual events form part of a larger picture that is not evident within a single life. This is the realization that Alba arrives at in the Epilogue, and it is the perspective that numerous narrative connections and parallels build up to.
Allende highlights these parallels and connections through a variety of techniques. Obvious and explicit foreshadowing is one of them; the narrators frequently remark upon events and their future significance as they are taking place. One of the earliest examples is the assertion that Rosa’s death marks the beginning of a “suspended vengeance” that will haunt the family for generations. Similarly, the very first meeting of Blanca and Pedro Tercero foreshadows the violence that unfolds when Esteban discovers their affair; the narrator explains that they will be discovered sleeping in a similar position—lying naked together—years later and with dire consequences. Promises also appear as a recurring motif throughout the book, playing out in unexpected ways but nearly always kept: Esteban to Férula, Amanda to Miguel, and Tránsito Soto to Esteban, among others.
The style of magical realism is another aspect of the book that supports the theme of interconnectedness. Fantastical elements appear throughout the book, heightening the sense of fortuitousness or foreboding in accordance with the circumstances. For instance, Alba inherits Rosa’s green hair, lending a touch of the magical to her, as was the case with her great-aunt. In accordance with this, Alba manages to perform the miraculous and soften her ill-tempered grandfather to the point where, aided by other events, Esteban grows and changes as a character. The physical detail also underscores the connection between the two women: Rosa was the very first in the line of vengeance-driven tragedies to befall the del Valles, and Alba, by her own choice, will be the last. Alba’s fate is also prophesied by Luisa Mora—another fantastical element that facilitates foreshadowing.
As Alba’s hair color demonstrates, the interconnectedness of people and events frequently emerges in repeating patterns within the family. Marcos’s fascination with flight resurfaces in Nicolás. Rosa’s fantastical creatures take a new form in Blanca’s ceramic creations and crèches. The tradition of storytelling forging strong bonds between mothers and daughters continues through the del Valle women as a family tradition (and feeds into a another major theme within the book). Larger plot points connect in various ways, the most important being Esteban’s rape of Pancha García, which produces a son and then the grandson who goes on to rape Alba many years later. García’s hatred of the Truebas deepens when Esteban dismisses him after he gives Esteban information on Pedro Tercero’s whereabouts. In a symbolic mirroring of events, García chops off Alba’s fingers many years later, just as he witnessed Esteban do to Pedro Tercero.
Esteban shares an equally complicated relationship with Pedro Tercero, the pair crossing paths under varying circumstances at different points in their lives. Though Pedro is the son of his most trusted employee, Esteban nevertheless dismisses him and then later violently assaults him. Despite this, each comes to rescue the other at different points in the narrative, motivated to do so by their shared love of Blanca: Pedro Tercero rescues Esteban from Tres Marías, and in an echo of this, Esteban helps Pedro Tercero and Blanca flee the country after the coup.
Yet another connection between characters links Alba and Miguel when the latter witnesses Alba’s birth. However, Miguel does not remember this, and this detail would have never seen the light of day if not for Alba piecing together the story through her grandmother’s notebooks. This forgotten connection, though seemingly more coincidental than instrumental to the plot, nevertheless underlines the concluding message of the book: Over generations, the apparently random events of individual lives combine to form a larger and more meaningful picture.
Stories and storytelling play an important role in The House of the Spirits. The book begins, in fact, with a line from one of Clara’s notebooks, used to record incidents from her life. Combined with the presence of two different narrators, this points to the role of perspective in human experience and the subsequent importance of storytelling.
The act of storytelling has a creative, regenerative, and strengthening power within the book. It forms the foundation of Nívea’s relationship with her daughter, especially when Clara descends into muteness. Nívea’s stories transcend the potential distance Clara’s silence poses, and mother and daughter form a strong bond; this bond passes down succeeding generations of mothers and daughters, forged in a similar manner. Writing and recording stories also works to save Alba’s life. Clara appears before Alba when she is in the doghouse, urging her to stay alive and mentally record her story; Alba later continues to do so in a notebook given to her by Ana in the concentration camp, her archiving encouraged by the other women as well. Finally, it is the act of piecing together the intergenerational story of the del Valles that allows Alba to heal from her trauma and make the choice to break the cycle of vengeance.
If the transmission of stories is a source of power, especially for women, so is the act of withholding stories. Silence in many forms is a recurring motif, from Clara’s muteness and decision to stop speaking to Esteban, to Blanca’s refusal to reveal Alba’s true parentage, and even to Alba’s and Amanda’s unwillingness to inform on Miguel’s whereabouts under pain of torture.
The act of writing to record stories and pass them on is one form of storytelling that the book explores, but other forms of creation and messaging, such as music and art, are equally powerful. Rosa’s embroidery and Blanca’s crèches represent a visual form of storytelling, and the art is a much-needed source of income and stability in Blanca’s case. Pedro Tercero’s music becomes his primary medium of expression, first of his love for Blanca and later of his revolutionary ideas. Despite having his fingers chopped off, he manages to relearn how to play the guitar, continuing to make music that propels him to fame; this same persistence and healing surfaces in his daughter years later as Alba teaches herself to write with her left hand.
Pedro Tercero’s music is also an important vehicle to transport revolutionary thought to the peasants, piercing their consciousness far more effectively than pamphlets and speeches. The story of the hens and the fox recurs in his music, highlighting the power of a story even over logic and ideology. This power of narrative features in the formal political sphere as well: Esteban suggests buying out the media as a way to topple the left. The military acts on this same premise, censoring and erasing history after the coup in order to tear down the President’s image in the people’s eyes. At the Poet’s funeral, the mourning attendees chant his verses as a way to remember his revolutionary spirit and to express their own perseverance and dissent in the face of the new regime.
Thus, the novel explores the practice, role, and power of storytelling across multiple contexts. In a full circle moment (which also feeds into the related theme of interconnectedness), the book comes to a close by echoing its very first line, underlining the role that stories and storytelling have played in the narrative all along.
By Isabel Allende