K. Saul 5/18/18 Linguistic Symbols in A House on Mango Street: Style and The Theme of Independence Adolescence is a bridge between childhood and adulthood, marked by often awkward and painful attempts by the tween to create order out of chaos and emerge with with a coherent identity. The coming-of-age story is a genre of literature that focuses on this journey from immaturity to maturity, and Sandra Cisneros’s Esperanza shares her progress in the classic coming-of-age tale, The House on Mango Street. E speranza goes from an insecure and lonely girl to a more independent young woman who is confident in her identity as a writer. To highlight Esperanza’s growth, Cisneros uses a variety of narrative techniques: as Esperanza changes, so does the way she narrates. Cisneros develops the theme of independence through the significance of words: the symbolism of names, language, and writing represents the evolution of Esperanza’s autonomy. At the beginning of the novel, Esperanza seeks her own identity, and her longing is manifested by her desire for a new name, and a stylistic listing of options that she’d like to replace her own. She hopes that a new name will reveal “the real me, the one nobody sees. Esperanza as Lisandra or Maritza or Zeze the X” (11). Esperanza lists these options as potential identities; each one contains a secret, bolder, wilder girl inside of it, and she longs for the independence she imagines a new name and its corresponding identity would bring her. Later, when she meets Rachel and Lucy, Esperanza’s desperation for friends leaves her anxious and insecure during their first interaction. When Rachel asks for Esperanza’s name, she thinks, “I wish my name was Cassandra or Alexis or Maritza — anything but Esperanza” (15). Esperanza wishes for a new name that she childishly believes will bring with it a new bold identity. Many of the characters in The House on Mango Street w ho are the least independent do not speak the English language, and Esperanza tells about them using questions to represent uncertainty. When Esperanza learns the fate of Geraldo, the man Marin dances with who dies in a hit-and-run, she is struck by how powerless and disrespected he is: “No address. No name. Nothing in his pockets” (66). His “namelessness,” caused by his lack of legal identification and status, has made him invisible. Esperanza questions his situation, wondering, “But what difference does it make? He wasn’t anything to her. He wasn’t her boyfriend or anything like that. Just another brazer who didn’t speak English... And what was she doing out at three a.m. anyway? Marin, who was sent home with her coat and some aspirin. How does she explain? (66). Esperanza knows that Geraldo’s lack of English has made him nameless and faceless in the system: “just another” as she explains. She expresses her frustration over Geraldo’s powerlessness and demise through a series of questions that cannot be answered: “What difference does it make?... How does she explain?” Similarly, Mamacita is helpless because she does not speak English. While Geraldo’s lack of English keeps him from being treated with the dignity and urgency that he deserves, Mamacita’s keeps her from the entire world outside of her apartment. Esperanza observes that Mamacita “doesn’t come out because she is afraid to speak English” (77), realizing that the language barrier represents for Mamacita total isolation, complete dependence, and profound homesickness as she yearns for the Spanish language of her home. Esperanza captures Mamacita’s longing questions: “¿Cuándo, cuándo, cuándo?” (78). Unlike in “Geraldo, No Last Name,” Mamacita’s questions are answered, as her man tells her they are never going back, that this new, dark, cold, incomprehensible country “is h ome” (78). Neither Geraldo or Mamacita have the independence to access opportunity in America due to the language barrier that leaves them, and Esperanza, questioning why. At the end of the novel, Esperanza’s newfound independence is accompanied with her self-identification as a writer and the change in narrative style marked by the more consistent use of complete, figuratively sophisticated sentences. Cisneros hints at the freedom life as a writer will provide for Esperanza in “Born Bad,” when Aunt Lupe tells her “You must keep writing. It will keep you free,” though Esperanza admits that “at that time I didn’t know what she meant” (61). Later, she realizes the power that writing holds to provide both emotional and situational freedom. Esperanza shares that she puts her story “down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much. I write it down and Mango says goodbye sometimes. She does not hold me with both arms. She sets me free” (110). Esperanza sees that writing frees her from the painful memories of her childhood and will also help her escape from Mango Street and towards the freedom of opportunities in the larger world. As her identity as a writer strengthens, she acknowledges that her literary life will take her away from Mango: “One day I will pack my books and paper. One day I will say goodbye to Mango” (110), and will give her the strength to come back to Mango, as well. Esperanza is writing her story, and fighting her “ghost,” with more poetic, writerly sentences, saying “I make a story for my life, for each step my brown shoe takes, I say, ‘And so she trudged up the wooden stairs, her sad brown shoes taking her to the house she never liked’” (109). Esperanza’s correct usage of quotation marks for the first time in the novel; her specific, descriptive language (“trudged,” “wooden s tairs,” “sad brown shoes”); and her use of personification reflect her complete identification of herself as a writer, and identify which will bring her independence. Cisneros masterfully crafts a novel in which style echoes theme and emphasizes the motif of writing and language as independence, which must be dear to the author’s own evolution and identity. Esperanza’s journey is not universal, but her quest for a secure identity is the lynchpin of growing up, and her conclusion that writing is equal to freedom and self-expression is the same conclusion that writers across the world share.