Disillusion and Disorientation in Tropic of Orange

What I find interesting in the first section of Tropic of Orange is the pervasiveness of disillusion and disorientation. The quote from Michael Ventura that Yamashita uses to preface her novel introduces these ideas that are present from the opening chapters. Ventura describes Los Angeles as “a city named after sacred but imaginary beings, in a state named after a paradise that was the figment of a woman’s dream; a city that came to fame by filming such figments.” Connecting this to Gabriel’s dream house in Mexico, I can begin to understand how this novel fits into the western ideas that we have been discussing. Gabriel imagines a potential Eden that can satisfy his “sudden passion for the acquisition of land” (5). Upon this space, Gabriel hopes to impose a home and cultivate trees. Yet the land proves unfitting for his plants, and the house has been in the works for eight years. The difference between Gabriel’s dream and the reality of the house at the novel’s outset is distinct and undercutting. Rather than a place of “timeless vacation” (5), Gabriel has a place occupied by things sometimes dead and sometimes alive, but ultimately unproductive. We learn that Gabriel “tried not to be discouraged when they [his trees] died, telling Rafaela, ‘They gotta take care of themselves. Survival of the fittest’” (10), yet this mantra only further commits Gabriel to his disillusionment. Gabriel wants to cultivate his trees, yet blames nature for his own neglect and absence. Gabriel’s dreams are described as “nice ideas” (10), holding little weight in the face of the harsh Mexican landscape, and connecting to Ventura’s idea of the disconnect between dreams and reality. Furthermore, within this space, the lines of orientation fail the human inhabitants. For example, we learn that “there had been two trees, one on either side of the property—two points on a line, but one had died” (11). These trees formerly served to mark the Tropic of Cancer, but now that line has been obscured: turned into a singular point through which any line could pass.