As It Seems?

In Julia Alvarez's In the Time of the Butterflies, all surface level character analysis of the four sisters—Patria, Minerva, Dedé, and María Teresa—paints them as vastly different individuals. Patria's maternal faith, Minerva's outspokenness, Dedé's pragmatism, and Mate's youth are seemingly disparate attributes—attributes that speak to a deeper sense of each girl's identity.

However, even having read only the first six chapters the book, a closer look reveals that in their differences, the four Mirabal sisters are actually quite similar. This is perhaps the most apparent—and surprising—when comparing Patria and Minerva. Patria, the oldest of the four daughters, is painted early on as a very religious, very maternal individual. The first line of her first chapter, even, is a reference to religion; Alvarez writes, “From the beginning...” (44), a clear reference to the opening line of Genesis, the first chapter of the Bible. As has been discussed, however, Patria's faith goes even beyond religion; her self-perceived calling involves “loving everything that lives” (44). As a young woman, Patria was clearly living up to her mother's hopes and expectations, both as a caretaker of her younger sisters and, perhaps, an aspiring nun.

Minerva, meanwhile, lacks any subtlety of character; the first word of her first chapter is “I” and the last is “me.”  Even on her first night at boarding school she is fighting for what she believes is only right, saying, in reference to seeking certain sleeping arrangements at the convent, "I spoke right up, 'I don't think it's fair if you just make an exception for us'" (14). Minerva is clearly stubborn, unafraid to voice her opinions, and even more unafraid of crossing certain lines. She is strong, strong willed, and clearly willing to fight for her beliefs. Even Mate's first chapter, in which she is writing to her “little book,” focuses on Minerva. The tone has the reverence commonly found among younger siblings, but it is clear that Minerva's presence in the lives of those around her commands attention.

Given these descriptions, the only logical conclusion is that Patria and Minerva couldn't be any more different. However, as was previously stated, this is not necessarily the case. In the beginning of Patria's first chapter, she talks incessantly about her own calling in life and her desire to be of a religious order. Despite the fact that her defining characteristics—generosity, piety, and purity—are perceived as being very Christian and very admirable, there exists in Patria a very self-centered obsession with these things. She says,

“I'd write out my religious name in all kinds of scripts—Sor Mercedes—the way other girls were trying out their given names with the surnames of cute boys. I'd see those boys and think, Ah yes, they will come to Sor Mercedes in times of trouble and lay their curly heads in my lap so I can comfort them” (45).

She follows this assertion by discussing the efforts that she put into adhering to being as pious as possible. Like the story told at the beginning of the chapter about Patria's care in diapering her little sister, the telling of her care with food during Lent is over the top, sounding almost grossly exaggerated. This self-focus is actually reminiscent of Minerva—in her own way, with a focus on politics, women's activism, and legality—she too is so very intensely centered on what she feels is most important.

And so, as readers, we see that, while initially Patria and Dedé seem to be the most similar, perhaps there are many more layers to the relationships and characteristics of these remarkable sisters. As one of these readers, I look forward, with great anticipation, to learning more and more about who each of these four women truly is, who they will be, and how this changes over time.