Of Women and Salt

Les Misérables and Cecilia Valdés serve as important symbols at the novel’s start and as touchstones throughout, although their significance differs by character. For María, the books are subtle yet powerful sentiments. First, they’re gifts from Antonio at the start of a courtship that leads to their marriage. Second, they represent the start of a journey for María: When she receives Cecilia Valdés, she’s unable to read, but she begins meeting with Antonio so that he’ll read it to her, and she eventually learns to read and write. Moreover, both novels are revolutionary works that interrogate race and class, Les Misérables in France and Cecilia Valdés in Cuba; in fact, Antonio intends his gift as a symbol of feminist and working-class hope for María (and it must have been impactful, as she names her daughter after it).

However, even though both novels are originally meaningful to María, their significance fades over time. In fact, even María is lost to time: For instance, Vanessa mentions that they had an ancestor, Cecilia, who worked in the cigar factories, and that her parents probably did too; of course, this is true, since Cecilia was María’s daughter, but the extent of Vanessa’s knowledge ends with Cecilia, and no connection exists between her and Cecilia Valdés. Instead, the books take on significance as family heirlooms: Dolores knows that they’ve been in the family for several generations and hides them in the walls as part of her plan to escape Daniel; Maydelis seems unaware of this history (as the official story is that Daniel was killed in the mountains), but the books still carry sentimental value for Dolores. The books pass from Maydelis to Carmen, who in turn passes them to Ana as a familial gesture, symbolically bringing Ana into the family after losing Jeanette.

Substance abuse comes up in several ways throughout the novel. It’s most evident in Jeanette’s struggles with opioids, not only because the novel devotes more time to her than any other character but because the narrative presents substance abuse as such a dominant part of her life—one that ultimately leads to her death. Interestingly, Jeanette appears mostly when she’s sober, and the narrative reveals her substance abuse through flashbacks, flash-forwards, and the eyes of other characters. An exception is in “Harder Girl,” when she gets drunk and tries cocaine at a foam party. The closest the novel gets to directly describing her experience with addiction is in “Other Girl,” but even there the story shows only the beginnings of it—the first time she tries Oxy with Mario—and refers to everything else as what will come, not what she’s currently experiencing. In this respect, the novel consciously avoids making Jeanette into the archetype of a tragic addict despite her eventual death being a consequence of it; while her struggles are clear, she’s usually sober, if not entirely in control.

Jeanette’s struggles reflect a systemic issue in American society: the opioid crisis, specifically with Oxycontin (referred to simply as “Oxy” in the novel). Many now consider this crisis a purposeful effort by pharmaceutical manufacturers and distributors, arguing that these companies pushed highly addictive painkillers to impoverished populations and relied on unscrupulous doctors to help sell them. “Other Girl” portrays this through Mario, both in his job at a pain clinic and his assertion that many doctors just hand out prescriptions for whatever the patient asks for. In this sense, the tragedy of Jeanette’s arc is twofold: Not only is she a victim of a vast epidemic, but throughout Jeanette’s life, Carmen treats her struggles as a personal failure, never considering the systems that contribute to her issues. Likewise, the novel critiques the rehabilitation system, which clearly doesn’t work for Jeanette. In the narrative, the rehabilitation system both places a heavy emphasis on personal responsibility and acts as a cash cow by using workers who don’t really care about patients’ sobriety.

Of course, Jeanette isn’t the only character who suffers from addiction. Mario, who introduces her to a harder lifestyle, has his own struggles with it; although it’s unclear what happens to him after “Prey,” he and Jeanette presumably fall back off the wagon together. Probably more important, though, is Julio’s alcohol abuse: His drinking is a constant flashpoint between Carmen and Jeanette but also serves as a red herring given that Carmen believes it’s the reason why Jeanette won’t visit. Likewise, the novel suggests that Daniel’s frequent drinking makes him insecure and angry—and therefore exacerbates his violence and abuse. However, the novel argues forcefully against the idea that either Julio or Daniel becomes a different person when he drinks: Drinking doesn’t create their abusive nature but merely brings out what was always there.