In the Name of Salome

The story now switches to Salomé’s first-person narration of her life story. She begins her tale as a six-year-old in 1856. In her native country of the Dominican Republic, revolutions occur on a weekly basis. She can’t keep track of who is in power—the blues or the reds. The only important fact in her life is that her mother has left her father because he was having an affair. Taking Salomé and her sister Ramona, their mother has moved in with her sister Ana. Tia Ana runs a preschool for little girls who then go on to the convent school of the sisters Bobadilla, where they learn how to be proper young ladies. Although they learn to read, they are never taught to write for fear that they might someday answer a love letter.

One day, a man arrives at Salomé’s door. It is her father, Nicolas, returned from political exile. He asks his daughters to write to him. Salomé eagerly learns to write, and a flurry of correspondence follows. To protect their anonymity, the father and his daughters invent codenames for themselves. Nicolas is Nísidas, Ramona is Marfisa, and Salomé is Herminia. Over time, Salomé’s mother grows less hostile to her husband. By 1861, the political climate in the country has changed, and Nicolas takes a house nearby so he can see his daughters on a daily basis.

Camila’s narrative resumes by going backward in time. Several months before the events described in the prologue, Camila recalls the time she spent debating what to do with her life. She has developed cataracts but keeps postponing surgery to have them removed. Her brother Max, still living in Santo Domingo, has just shipped Camila two trunks of family papers to sort out. Rather than visiting her brother’s family in Havana over the Christmas break, Camila remains behind to organize the contents of the trunks. She doesn’t tell her brother that she’s really looking for a sign in her mother’s poetry to give her some future direction in life.

After school resumes, Camila hires a student named Nancy Palmer to read her the correspondence in the trunks. Camila’s eyesight is too poor to allow her to do this herself. Nancy is impressed to learn that Camila’s father was briefly president of the Dominican Republic. He didn’t remain in office long due to the chronic political upheaval in his country. Nancy puts together Camila’s confusing family tree, including step-relatives and family pets. During the time this project is underway, the Cuban Revolution takes place. Camila is galvanized by the idea of starting a new republic. She finally knows what she wants to do with the rest of her life: “She wants to try saying it aloud, to see the ghostly breath the words leave in the air. ‘I’m going to join a revolution’” (47).

In 1865 Santo Domingo, Salomé has just turned 15. At the same time, the Dominican Republic has declared itself a colony of Spain to avoid future invasions from Haiti. Salomé is sad that her country has lost its independence but believes her poetry can inspire her countrymen to fight for their liberty. She thinks, “I dreamed of setting us free. My shield was my paper, and my swords were the words my father was teaching me to wield” (50).

Salomé and her father are both poets. With Nicolas’ encouragement, Salomé’s abilities improve rapidly. The government censor doesn’t delete poetry from the newspapers, so the country’s journals are full of poems that offer thinly veiled political commentary. Salomé signs her verses with the pen name Herminia but is careful to keep them out of the press for fear of government reprisal.

When Salomé is 18, her tutor brings his younger brother, Miguel, to class. Miguel is also a poet, so he and Salomé bond over this art. Miguel is exiled to Haiti soon afterward for writing poetry against the current government regime, but he receives a packet of Salomé’s poetry before he departs. A few weeks later, Salomé’s family is surprised to find poetry by Herminia published in El Nacional. The country becomes inspired by Herminia’s verse. Salomé’s family is proud but also fearful that her real identity might be discovered.

By the time she is 23, Salomé’s anonymous poems have appeared regularly in all the national papers. Her country has suffered a bloody revolution for independence and several coups after that. Salomé’s poetry has drawn a horde of admirers, and she now writes the most difficult words of all. She signs her latest poem with her real name.