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Special  Double  Issue: 

Chicana/o  Discourse 


VOLUME     XXII 

VOLUME    xxm 


FALL  1993 
SPRING  1994 


NUMBER  2 
NUMBER  1 


esueR 


Special  Double  Issue: 

Chicana/o  Discourse 


VOLUME     XXII 

VOLUME    xxm 


FALL  1993 
SPRING  1994 


NUMBER  2 
NUMBER  1 


EDITORIAL  BOARD 

José  Ramón  Núñez-Astray 
Editor-in-Chief 


Rosemarie  Nemes 

Pilar  Hernández 

Advertising  Editor 

Michael  Schuessler 
Yuzhuo  Qiu 
Canje  Editor 


Ana  Afzali 
David  Nordlum 


Eleuteria  Hernández 
Juan  Carlos  Ramírez 
Book  Review 

VincentBarletta 
Circulation  Editor 


EDITORIAL  ASSISTANTS 

Sylvia  Blynn-Avanosian 
Silvia  Pellarolo 


Bridget  Kevane 
Claudia  Bautista 
Business  Editor 

Juanita  Heredia 

Jennifer  Garson 

Production  Editor 


Mercedes  Limón 
Barbara  Zecchi 


Shirley  Arora 
Eduardo  Dias 
Claudia  Farodi-Lewin 


ADVISORS 

Rubén  Benítez  Verónica  Cortínez 

Efraín  Kristal  Joaquín  Gimeno  Casalduero 

Enrique  Rodríguez-Cepeda  Paul  C.  Smith 


We  wish  to  thank  the  Department  of  Spanisb  and  Portuguese,  The  Gradúate  Student 
Association,  UCLA  and  Del  Amo  Foundation  for  making  this  issue  possible. 

MESTER  is  sponsored  by  the  Gradúate  Students  Association,  University  of  California, 
Los  Angeles.  It  publishes  criticai  articles,  interviews  and  book  reviews  in  Spanish, 
Portuguese  and  English.  To  be  considered  for  publication,  manuscripts  must  follow  the 
New  MLA  Style  Sheet.  Preference  will  be  given  to  manuscripts  which  do  not  exceed  15 
pages.  The  original  andthree  copies  are  required  for  ali  work.  Please  do  not  write  author'  s 
ñame  on  manucripts:  attach  cover  letter.  The  original  of  rejected  articles  will  be  returned 
on  request  if  sufficient  loóse  postage  accompanies  the  manuscript.  Submissions  being 
considered  by  another  journal  or  by  a  publisher  are  not  accepted.  Authors  receive  five 
complimentary  copies  of  the  issue  in  which  their  work  appears. 

Manuscripts,  subscriptions  and  editorial  correspondence  should  be  addressedto:  MESTER, 
Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles,  Los 
Angeles,  California  90024-1532. 

MESTER  is  published  semiannually.  It  is  affiliated  with  the  Department  of  Spanish  and 
Portuguese,  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles.  The  annual  subscrition  rate  is 
US$30.00  for  institutions,  US$24.00  for  Latín  America,  US$18.00  for  individuais  and 
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Canada  and  México.  Please  make  checks  payable  to  MESTER. 

MESTER  is  indexed  in  the  MLA  International  Bibliography. 

MESTER  is  a  member  of  CEU,  the  Conference  of  Editors  of  Learned  Journals. 

Copyright  (c)  1994  by  the  Regents  of  the  University  of  California. 
AU  rights  reserved. 
ISSN  0160-2764 


Literary  Joumal  of  the  Gradúate  Students  of  the 

DEPARTMENT  OF  SPANISH  AND  PORTUGUESE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 


VOLUMES    XXII 
XXIII 


FALL  1993 
SPRING  1994 


Number2 
Number  1 


CONTENTS 

iNTRODUCnON     1 

Articles 

Contemporizing  Perfonnance:  Mexican  California  and  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre 
Alicia  Arrizón   5 

La  representación  de  la  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.UU.  en  las  Crónicas 
Diabólicas  de  Jorge  Ulica 

Eleuteria  Hernández   31 

Literatura  fronteriza  lejana:  El  compromiso  con  la  historia  en  Américo 
Paredes,  Rolando  Hinojosa  y  Gloria  Anzaldúa 

Héctor  Calderón   41 

Redefining  Epic  and  Novel  through  Rulfo's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Rivera' s 
Y  no  selo  tragó  la  tierra 

JoséR.  López-Morín  63 

Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  y  Sandra  Cisneros 

Bridget  Kevane   71 

Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Contestation 

José  Saldívar  81 


Down  These  City  Streets:  Exploring  Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and 
The  House  on  Mango  Street 

Juanita  Heredia   93 

La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín:  Representación  matrilineal 
y  la  nueva  mujer  chicana 

Fanny  Arango-Keeth   107 

Self-Baptizing  the  Wicked  Esperanza:  Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural 
Contact  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 

Juan  Daniel  Busch   123 

INTERVIEWS 

Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 

Manuel  de  Jesús  Hemández-G.  and  Michel  Nymann    135 

Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 

Mary  Pat  Brady  and  Juanita  Heredia    149 

Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 

Juanita  Heredia  arui  Silvia  Pellarolo    165 

Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 

Angie  Chabram  Demersesian  181 

LINGUISTIC  ARTICLES 

Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 

Claudia  Parodi   21 1 

Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México  Chicano  English 

Pilar  Hernández   227 

Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English 

JoyceHo  235 

REVIEW    245 

CONTRIBUTOR'S  PAGE  249 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994) 


Introducción 


El  creciente  interés  por  la  producción  artística  chicana  hizo  dos  años  atrás  que 
los  estudiantes  graduados  del  departamento  de  español  y  portugués  de  UCLA 
decidieran  dedicar  el  número  extraordinario  de  Mester  que  ahora  llega  a  sus  manos 
al  estudio  del  discurso  chicano. 

Desde  un  comienzo,  la  idea  de  un  número  especial  dedicado  al  discurso  chicano 
quiso  lograr  que  un  amplio  espectro  de  producciones  chicanas  pudieran  ser  motivo 
de  análisis  y  discusión.  Por  ello,  se  optó  por  abrir  el  campo  de  estudio  más  allá  del 
de  la  producción  literaria,  ampliándose  a  cualquier  tipo  de  producción  discursiva. 
Esto  permitió  dar  la  voz,  nunca  mejor  dicho,  a  los  lingüistas,  quienes  se  preocupan 
y  levantan  acta  diariamente  del  ejercicio  vivo  de  la  lengua.  No  hay  muchos  campos 
más  interesantes  para  el  lingüista  que  el  del  habla  chicana,  que  se  encuentra  en 
constante  evolución  y  tensión  entre  las  otras  dos  hablas  que  permiten  la  comunicación 
a  su  comunidad,  el  español  y  el  inglés. 

Mester  incluye  en  sus  páginas  tres  estudios  lingüísticos  del  discurso  chicano: 
el  primero  es  un  análisis  realizado  por  Claudia  Parodi  sobre  los  préstamos  léxicos 
existentes  entre  el  español  chicano  y  el  español  mexicano;  los  dos  artículos  sobre 
"Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English"  de  Joyce  Ho  y  "Vowel  Shift  in 
Northern  New  México  Chicano  English"  de  Pilar  Hernández  son  el  punto  de  partida 
para  posteriores  análisis  sobre  aspectos  lingüísticos,  que  hasta  la  fecha  no  habían 
sido  comprobados  y  que  las  autoras  ofrecen  a  quienes  deseen  retomarlos. 

No  cabe  duda  de  que  la  oralidad  es  parte  íntegra  del  discurso  chicano.  Antes  de 
que  la  literatura  chicana  alcanzara  el  respeto  necesario  para  Uegar  a  los  círculos 
económicos  editoriales  y  de  distribución,  el  único  medio  de  propagación  y  de 
mantenimiento  de  la  vitalidad  cultural  propia  era  la  oralidad;  la  transmisión  de 
tradiciones,  de  historias  familiares,  de  costumbres  entre  los  mayores  y  los  más 
jóvenes  permitió  conservar  la  conciencia  de  origen.  Aunque  nuestro  capítulo 
lingüístico  se  ocupa  de  la  parte  física,  material,  del  habla  chicana.  Mester  vio  la 
necesidad  de  profundizar  en  la  oralidad;  por  ello,  se  decidió  intentar  conseguir 
entrevistas  con  creadores  chicanos  para  que,  orabnente,  expresaran  sus  experiencias 
y  opiniones  sobre  el  tema  de  este  número,  sobre  el  que  ellos  ya  se  han  expresado  en 
forma  escrita. 

Contamos  con  un  grupo  importante  de  entrevistas  (Cherríe  Moraga,  Erlinda 
Gonzales-Berry,  Helena  María  Viramontes,  Héctor  Calderón),  todas  ellas  muy 


Introducción 


interesantes  y  de  gran  valor  informativo  no  sólo  para  aquellos  que  se  ocupan  de  la 
producción  literaria  de  los  entrevistados,  sino  para  todos  a  quienes  atraigan  unas 
vidas  remarcables,  repletas  de  hechos  cotidianos  que,  por  la  manera  de  sentirlos  y 
de  relatarlos,  se  convierten  en  únicos. 

Al  ser  ésta  una  publicación  de  carácter  académico,  la  gran  mayoría  de  la 
investigación  ha  tomado  ese  derrotero.  Por  ello,  el  análisis  de  las  obras  de  autores 
consagrados  dentro  del  mundo  Uterario  era  inevitable  y  deseable  al  mismo  tiempo. 
No  ha  sido  sino  hasta  hace  unos  pocos  años  en  los  que  la  producción  artística 
centrada  en  y  para  el  mundo  chicano  se  ha  visto  aceptada  en  los  círculos  académicos 
tradicionales  y  así  ha  comenzado  a  estudiarse  en  las  aulas  universitarias  con 
seminarios  y  materias  dedicados  específicamente  a  este  menester.  Aunque  menciono 
que  los  autores  analizados  en  este  número  están  hasta  cierto  punto  consagrados, 
pues  ya  han  conseguido  entrar  en  los  círculos  de  distribución  editorial,  todavía  son 
innumerables  los  caminos  a  explorar  desde  el  punto  de  vista  del  crítico  literario 
dedicado  al  campo  de  la  creación  chicana.  Este  número  de  Mester  consigue  iniciar 
alguno  de  esos  senderos,  con  aportaciones  muy  valiosas  por  su  originalidad  e 
innovación,  que  abren  el  camino  a  futuras  aproximaciones. 

La  frontera  y  su  influencia  es  el  tema  central,  desde  diferentes  puntos  de  vista, 
de  los  artículos  que  publicamos  de  Héctor  Calderón  y  José  Saldívar.  Un  estudio 
sobre  un  grupo  teatral  chicano  de  principios  de  siglo  lo  presenta  Alicia  Arrizón.  La 
comparación  entre  autores  de  la  llamada  "historia  literaria"  con  autores  chícanos  es 
el  centro  de  los  trabajos  de  José  López,  quien  estudia  a  Juan  Rulfo  y  Tomás  Rivera, 
y  de  Bridget  Kevane,  que  compara  al  Inca  Garcilaso  y  a  Sandra  Cisneros.  Esta 
misma  escritora  es  parte  central  de  los  estudios  de  Juan  B  usch  y  Juanita  Heredia.  Por 
último,  el  tratamiento  de  la  mujer  es  el  tema  común  de  los  artículos  de  Eleuteria 
Hernández,  que  muestra  el  concepto  de  Jorge  Ulica  sobre  la  mujer  mexicana  en  los 
Estados  Unidos,  y  el  de  Fanny  Arango-Keeth,  quien  analiza  a  la  nueva  mujer 
chicana. 

Estoy  seguro  de  que  este  Chicana/o  Discourse  Issue  muestra  con  claridad  uno 
de  los  valores  más  importantes  de  la  cultura  chicana  que  es  el  estado  permanente  de 
cambio,  de  crecimiento  artístico.  Este  aspecto  vital  se  debe,  sobre  todo,  a  la  continua 
influencia  que  la  cultura  anglosajona  y  la  cultura  mexicana  tienen  en  los  individuos 
afincados  en  las  comunidades  chicanas.  Esa  lucha  persistente,  que  en  ocasiones  ha 
producido  y  produce  frustraciones  y  desánimo,  a  largo  plazo  ha  dado  lugar  a  la 
aparición  de  mujeres  y  hombres  de  gran  riqueza  personal,  miembros  de  una  rica 
comunidad,  cuyas  manifestaciones  se  analizan  y  enseñan  en  este  número. 

Pero  si  este  logro  es  válido  por  sí  mismo,  para  mí,  con  este  volumen  especial 
como  modelo,  se  da  un  paso  importante  para  la  consecución  de  otro  objetivo:  el 
respeto  no  sólo  para  el  mundo  chicano  sino  para  todas  las  otras  comunidades 
hispanas  quienes  se  ubican  en  los  Estados  Unidos,  que  han  mostrado  el  mismo  valor 
en  el  deseo  y  en  el  éxito  de  mantenimiento  de  sus  raíces  culturales  frente  a  la 
influencia  anglosajona,  y  que  han  hecho  crecer  el  aprecio  hacia  su  propia  identidad. 

La  estricta  definición  de  "chicana"  y  "chicano"  no  permitió  incluir  en  este 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994) 


número  de  Mester  el  análisis  de  las  realidades  y  producciones  de  los  artistas  de  estas 
otras  comunidades  hispanas.  La  lucha  permanente,  que  en  este  número  se  expone 
en  relación  con  el  mundo  chicano,  es  idéntica  a  la  que  sostienen  esas  comunidades 
que  se  establecieron  en  este  país  venidas  de  El  Salvador,  Cuba,  la  República 
Dominicana,  Puerto  Rico  y  de  todos  aquellos  lugares  donde  la  cultura  base  es  la 
hispana.  En  todos  los  casos,  de  ese  continuo  estrago  por  conservar  las  propias  raíces 
sin  aislamos  de  la  sociedad  anglosajona  que  nos  nos  influye  diariamente,  surge  y 
seguirá  surgiendo  un  rico  producto  artístico  y  social,  al  que  contribuyen  todas  las 
comunidades  hispanas;  estas  producciones  de  origen  y  resultado  multicultural,  que 
están  en  metamorfosis  continua,  sirven  para  aumentar  el  aprecio  y  el  respeto  por 
nuestias  propias  culturas  entre  todo  tipo  de  públicos. 

Confío  en  que  este  número  extraordinario  anime  a  los  especialistas  a  continuar 
su  labor  de  divulgación  de  los  logros  artísticos  chícanos  y  de  los  miembros  de  las 
demás  comunidades  hispanas  que  están  desarrollando  su  producción  en  los  Estados 
Unidos.  Y  confío  en  que  el  lector  en  general  continúe  creciendo  en  su  respeto  y 
apreciación  de  estas  creaciones  reflejo  de  una  sociedad  viva,  en  continuo  cambio  y 
enriquecimiento. 

José  Ramón  Núñez  Astray 

Editor-in-Chief,  Mester 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 


The  editorial  staff  of  Mester  would  like  to  give  special  thanks  to  those  who 
helped  make  this  special  double  issue  possible.  First,  we  are  grateful  to  the  UCLA 
Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  the  Del  Amo  Foundation,  and  the  UCLA 
Gradúate  Student  Association  for  their  continued  support  of  this  academic  joumal. 
We  are  particularly  indebted  to  the  Chair  of  the  Department  of  Spanish  and 
Portuguese,  Dr.  Carroll  B.  Johnson,  for  enabling  us  to  convert  our  production  to  a 
"camera  ready"  product,  and  for  his  rapid  intervention  on  our  behalf  following  the 
January  1994  earthquake  in  which  Mester"  s  office  was  condemned.  In  addition,  we 
are  appreciative  to  professor  Héctor  Calderón  who  gave  us  an  abundant  amount  of 
editorial  help  at  the  expense  of  his  own  personal  ume.  Finally,  we  are  grateful  to  you, 
our  subscribers,  for  your  support  of  our  publication. 

MESTER 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994) 


Contemporizing  Performance:  Mexican 
California  and  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre 


The  Spanish  word  of  welcome,  Bienvenido,  is  the  traditional 
greetíng  given  at  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  and  Dining  Room  near 
Claremont,  California.  And  it  is  repeated  often  by  the  hostess 
who  receives  guests  at  this  unique  playhouse  in  the  Sierra  Madre 
Range  of  the  San  Gabriel  Mountains,  thirty-five  miles  east  of  Los 
Angeles.  Her  attractive  Mexican  costume  and  her  gracious  words 
set  the  mood  for  a  visit  to  one  of  the  most  delightful  and 
distinctive  spots  in  Southern  California,  an  institute  dedicated  to 
inter- American  friendship.  (Deuel  1) 

The  history  of  Pádua  Hills  Theatre,  and  its  most  famous  performance  group,  the 
Mexican  Players,  has  hardly  received  any  criticai  attention.  The  several  existing 
studies  are  limited  to  historical  approaches  to  the  foundation  and  development  of 
this  theatre.  1  My  interest  in  both  this  theatre  and  its  players  arises  out  of  a  larger 
concern  with  the  representation  and  misrepresentaüons  of  Mexican  identity  in 
theatre  and  performance  prior  to  the  emergence  of  the  Chicano  movement.^  My 
most  recent  research  has  focused  on  California  and  Texas  between  the  1930s  and 
1 950s,  examining  ho  w  certain  ethnic  and  gender  constructions  first  defmed  and  then 
sustained  a  notion  of  what  I  cali  the  "Mexican  Southwest."  My  approach  to  the  story 
of  the  Mexican  Players  of  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  is  thus  both  less  historical  and 
more  deeply  embedded  in  the  context  of  cultural  criticism  than  previous  studies 
have  been.3  This  essay  addresses  the  power  relations  between  the  Anglo  founders 
and  directors  of  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  and  the  Mexican  actors  and  acü^esses  whose 
performances  brought  the  theatre  intemational  acclaim  as  a  center  for  Spanish  and 
Mexican  folk-drama.  A  basic  assumption  underlying  the  analysis  is  that  ali 
representation  in  performance  is  inseparably  bound  to  ideology.  As  Jill  Dolan  has 
put  it,  "ideology  circulates  as  a  prevailing  term  in  performance  from  its  creation  to 
its  reception"(41).  The  implications  of  that  intertwining  are  often  far-reaching,  as 
the  complex  relationship  between  the  Mexican  Players  and  their  chief  benefactor, 
Bess  Adams  Gamer,  demónstrate. 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


OVERVIEW  OF  PADUA  HILLS  THEATRE 

The  Padua  Hills  Theatre,  located  three  miles  north  of  the  Claremont  Colleges 
in  Claremont,  California,  was  built  in  1930  as  a  community  center  and  home  of  the 
Claremont  Community  Players  on  land  that  once  had  been  part  of  the  great  Rancho 
San  José  (Carol  Webb  19)A  The  original  tract  was  enormous  and  had  been  granted 
to  Don  Ignacio  Palomares  and  Don  Ricardo  Vejar  in  1837  by  Govemor  Al  varado 
of  California  on  behalf  of  the  Mexican  govemment.  When  the  United  States 
govemment  confirmed  the  ownership  of  Rancho  San  José  in  1875,  the  north  side  of 
Claremont  was  excluded.  In  1925,  2,000  acres  were  purchased  by  residents  of 
Claremont  with  the  intention  of  preserving  the  land' s  natural  beauty.  As  Deuel  (5) 
and  Blakeslee  both  point  out,  the  direction  of  this  effort  was  entrusted  to  Hermán 
H.  Gamer.  The  original  plans,  which  called  only  for  a  playhouse,  were  expanded  to 
include  an  art  center,  shops  featuring  imports  from  México,  and  a  dining  room 
adjacent  to  the  theatre.^ 

The  Claremont  Community  Players  made  Padua  Hills  one  of  the  outstanding 
examples  of  the  little  theatre  movement  in  the  United  States,  but  the  impact  of  the 
Great  Depression  forced  a  cut  in  their  productions  from  every  weekend  to  two 
weekends  per  month.  The  Depression  also  reduced  the  time  individual  members  of 
the  Claremont  Players  had  available  for  acting,  as  many  had  to  work  longer  hours 
in  their  non  theatre-related  jobs  and  others  spent  whole  days  simply  hunting  for 
work.  In  the  hope  that  a  change  in  residence  would  help  reverse  the  company's 
financial  decline,  the  Claremont  Community  Players  elected  to  leave  the  Padua 
Hills  Theatre.  Their  departure  marked  the  advent  of  a  new  era  of  exclusively 
Mexican  folk  drama  and  musicais  at  Padua  Hills.^ 

PEONES  AND  ENTERTAINERS: 
THE  ROLE  OF  THE  MEXICAN  PLAYERS 

Obviously,  a  young  member  of  the  Mexican  Players  is  more  than 
just  an  employee  with  a  full-time  position.  He  is  an  actor  in  the 
theatre;  a  waiter  or  a  bus  boy  and  an  entertainer  in  the  dining 
room;  and  an  apprentice  in  the  arts  of  song  and  dance.  These 
young  men  and  women  set  up  the  tables  in  the  dining  room  before 
lunch  and  dinner  and  then  serve  the  guests.  During  the  meáis  they 
leave  their  duties  for  a  few  minutes  at  a  time  to  dance  and  sing 
with  the  musicians.  At  night  and  on  matinee  days,  after  clearing 
the  tables,  they  hurry  to  the  dressing  rooms  to  prepare  for  their 
roles  in  the  current  play.  (Deuel  59) 

Ironically,  the  same  diré  economic  conditions  that  forced  the  Claremont 
Community  Players  to  abandon  Padua  Hills  gave  the  Mexican  Players  the  opening 
that  eventually  established  them  as  the  major  entertainment  component  of  the 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994) 


institute.  These  actors  and  actresses  were  lhe  cooks,  dishwashers,  waitresses, 
waiters,  and  janitors  who  staff ed  the  dining  room  adjacent  to  the  theatre .  Their  origin 
as  a  company  was  not  accidental:  Bess  Gamer  happened  to  see  the  kitchen  staff 
acting  out  stories  about  México  for  their  own  entertainment.  She  encouraged  them 
to  perform,  advising  them  to  do  more  pantomime  and  less  talking  because  the 
audiences  could  not  understand  Spanish.  In  April  1931,  the  Mexican  Players 
debuted  at  Pádua,  opening  with  a  performance  of  Noche  mexicana  (Figure  1). 

At  first,  the  Mexican  Players  altemated  weekend  performances  with  the 
Claremont  Community  Players.  As  the  Depression  wore  on  and  the  Claremont 
Players  left,  the  future  of  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  became  increasingly  uncertain.  In 
spite  of  the  Depression' s  criticai  impact,  the  Gamers  did  not  want  to  see  the  theatre 
close.  The  Mexican  Players  offered  a  seemingly  ideal  solution:  they  would  do 
double  duty  — at  a  single  pay —  in  their  roles  as  service  workers  and  performance 
artists.  Even  this  use  of  "cheap  laborers"  might  not  have  been  enough  to  save  the 
Pádua  Hills  Theatre  had  the  Gamers  not  also  used  their  personal  wealth  to  help 
sustain  the  Mexican  Players. 

According  to  David  Streeter,  who  knew  the  Gamers  personally,  Bess  Adams 
Gamer  was  a  rich  woman  who  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  her  money.^  Gamer 
felt  guilty  toward  the  poor  Mexicans,  whom  she  saw  as  losing  control  of  their  own 
cultural  history  as  a  result  of  a  complex  process  of  Americanization  in  which  the 
traditional  roles  of  such  institutions  as  the  family,  the  Catholic  Church,  and  the 
educational  system,  were  seriously  eroded.  Cultural  critic  Jon  Slott  (10)  described 
Mrs.  Gamer' s  interest  in  the  Mexican  Players  some  what  less  artistically  as  initially, 
"a  real  estale  venture;  then  a  hobby"  that  eventually  culminated  in  "a  magnificent 
obsession." 

According  to  Deuel  (15-20),  and  further  documented  by  Pádua  Hills  Theatre 
Collection,  the  Mexican  Players  were  formally  established  as  an  artistic  component 
of  Pádua  Hills  with  Serenata  mexicana  (Figure  2)  which  was  scheduled  for  regular 
presentations  in  1931  and  1932.  Serenata  mexicana  was  produced  by  Charles 
Dickinson  who  continued  to  direct  the  Players  for  over  fifteen  years.^  The  play 
depicts  a  day's  events  in  a  little  town  in  México.  According  to  the  "Program  Notes" 
on  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  for  this  production: 

The  Serenata  is  a  simple  story  of  Ufe  in  a  village  street  some- 
where — anywhere  in  México.  It  opens  at  the  end  of  siesta  time 
and  closes  with  the  evening  closing  of  a  little  Inn  or  Fonda  at  the 
end  of  the  street.  People  come  and  go — boys  sing,  girls  dance, 
youth  love.  We  hope  you  will  enjoy  watching  this  very  simple  but 
sincere  picture  of  a  life  that  must  be  a  part  of  the  background  of 
ali  Califomians. 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


(Figurei:  Cosí ofthefirsí performance ofíhe Mexican Playersin  "Noche Mexicana". Padua 
Theatre  Hills  Collectionat  Tomona  Public  Library.  L.  toR.  MaximinaZúñiga,  Philip  García, 
Josephine  García,  Lupe  González,  Sarah  Gómez,  Florence  Alvarez,  Manuela  Huerta,  Jesús 
Huerta,  José  García,  Gregorio  Órnelas,  Miguel  Vera,  Emma  López,  Marie  Gómez,  Grace 
Ramírez,  Juan  Matute,  Beaírice  Anaya,  Flávio  Vera,  and  Rachel  Sepúlveda.) 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994) 


'ir^>2s-!*iSTw,».-£í>^i*fí5v?ri»- ';»«-*;,".?;'•: 


(Figure  2:  Scenefrom  "Serenata  Mexicana".  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  aí  Pomona 
Public  Library.  From  L.  to  R.  Sarah  Gómez,  Marguerite  Park,  Samuel  Valadez,  Maximina 
Zúñiga,  Juan  Matute,  Eva  Rodríguez,  Miguel  Vera,  Jesús  Huerta,  Félix  Moreno,  Manuel 
Madrid,  Pauline  Anaya.) 


10  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


Serenata  mexicana  was  folio wed,  the  same  year  by  El  Rancho  San  Antonio. 
Written  and  directed  by  Fred  and  Mary  Harris,  this  play  deals  with  the  early  days 
in  Pomona.  According  to  the  Harrises  in  the  "Program  Notes,"  the  play  attempts  to 
portray  "the  chann  and  life  of  the  great  Spanish  Ranchos."  Serenata  mexicana 
celebrates  its  Spanish  setting  as  the  lost  paradise  of  California,  a  land  that  once 
belonged  to  the  Spanish  settlers  of  the  past  century.  The  play  honors  the  natural 
beauty  of  the  "oíd  California." 

All  of  the  Mexican  Players  performances  were  popular,  but  two  in  particular, 
the  Posadas  (Christmas  celebrations)  and  Ysidro,  became  ritual  events  at  Padua. 
Beginning  in  December  1932,  with  Christmas  at  mi  rancho  bonito,  the  Posadas 
were  celebrated  as  part  of  the  theatre' s  repertoire  every  Christmas  season.  The 
Posadas  ceremony  dates  back  to  colonial  times  in  México.  This  popular  ritual  mixes 
indigenous  practices  and  beliefs  with  folklore  and  music  to  celébrate  the  birth  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  Posadas  use  of  the  dialectics  of  "good"  versus  "evil"  as  the 
dramatic  construction  also  celebrates  humanity.  Community  members  in  the 
barrios  of  México  and  the  American  Southwest  still  practice  this  ceremony  during 
the  Christmas  season. 

The  second  traditional  performance,  the  play  Ysidro  (Figure  3),  was  first 
produced  in  May,  1933.  Ysidro  enacts  another  ritual  deeply  rooted  in  Mexican 
culture.  In  rural  áreas  of  México,  celebrations  in  honor  of  Saint  Ysidro,  are  an  an- 
nual  event.  Like  the  celebration  of  Posadas,  this  ritual  involves  a  religious 
ceremony  mixed  with  indigenous  beliefs  and  Christian  valúes.  In  the  pre-Hispanic 
era,  the  first  eight  months  of  the  Aztec  calendar  were  dedicated  to  the  water  gods. 
The  Indians  performed  ceremonies  emphasizing  a  communion  with  nature  and  the 
essential  forces  of  the  universe.  When  the  Spanish  colonizers  introduced  a  new 
calendar  and  a  new  religión,  they  permitted  the  Indians  to  keep  the  rituais  they  had 
always  used  to  bring  rain  to  a  land  of  drought.  However,  the  Christian  saint  San 
Ysidro,  not  the  Aztec  gods,  was  glorified  as  the  bearer  of  rain  and  crops. 

Neither  ritual  is  traditionally  performed  as  entertainment  or  as  a  folkloric 
exhibition.  Theatrical  performances  like  those  held  at  Padua  Hills  introduce  an 
element  of  commercialism  that  is  inherently  exploitative. 

REPRESENTATIONS  OF  OTHERNESS: 
CONSTRUCTIONS  OF  ETHNICITY  AND  GENDER 

When  the  Padua  Hills  Theatre  was  incorporated  as  a  nonprofit  educational 
organization  in  1935,  one  of  its  stated  aims  was  to  promote  and  encourage  interest 
in  the  arts  and  manners  of  early  Caüfomia  and  México,  and  to  promote  friendly 
relations  between  the  U.S.  and  México  and  other  Latin  American  countries. 
However,  the  particular  view  of  México  and  early  Caüfomia  held  by  the  trustees 
was  a  value-laden,  Anglocentric  one.  México  was  seen  as  the  "other,"  the  subject 
of  a  romantic  and  idylhc  memory  of  the  "oíd  California."  This  idealized  construc- 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  1 1 


(Figure  3:  Scenefrom  "Ysidro. "  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  aí  Pomona  Public  Ubrary.) 


12  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


tion  is  clear  in  the  following  passage  written  by  Bess  Gamer: 

To  many  people,  Padua  Hills  means  a  California  summer'  s  night, 
a  full  moon,  dark-eyed  boys  and  girls,  soft  Spanish  volees — and 
romance.  And  it  is  on  such  a  night  that  plaintive  violins,  strum- 
ming  of  guitars,  flowers  bright  under  the  fiesta  lights  or  palé  in  the 
shadows  of  oíd  olive  trees  bring  something  back  to  California.  To 
the  tall  white  theatre  on  its  hillside  against  the  blue  mountains 
there  comes  then  something  of  Latin  beauty  and  grace  which 
California  and  the  Southwest  once  had  and  must  not  lose.^ 

Mrs.  Gamer' s  artistic  imagination  was  dominated  by  this  yeaming  for  a  lost  "Latin 
beauty  and  grace."  Under  her  guidance,  the  plays  performed  by  the  Mexican  Players 
during  the  1930s  unfailingly  evoked  romantic  notions  of  Mexican  identity  and 
nationality.  The  following  selections,  taken  from  the  program  notes  of  various 
productions,  document  this  pattem.  ^^  All  depict  the  subject  of  representation  within 
romantic  notions  of  identity  and  nationality.  The  subject  formation  is  constructed 
as  an  integral  part  of  a  defined  "colorful"  and  "beautiful"  space: 

"Rosita"  is  a  human  little  story  of  the  love  affairs  of  a  group  of 
sweethearts  ("novios")  in  any  town  in  México.  We  see  Chema 
and  Teresa,  the  accepted  lovers,  though  never  un-chaperoned; 
the  more  or  less  turbulent  affair  of  the  little  sister,  Chiquita  and 
Pedro;  and  specially  the  one  of  Luis  and  Rosita;  how  they  meet, 
woo,  and  wed. 
Rosita  (1933),  produced  under  the  direction  of  Bess  A.  Gamer. 

Please  say  the  "x"  in  México  as  if  it  were  an  "h,"  And  if  you  can 
make  a  sort  of  a  little  "tz"  sound  after  the  word,  it  will  mean  not 
only  lovely  México,  but  something  like  "México,  how  swell!" 
and  you  will  have  the  idea  of  the  play  you  are  going  to  see. 
Qué  bonito  México  (1936),  produced  under  the  direction  of  Bess 
A.  Gamer. 

The  calle  del  beso  is  a  little  street  in  Guanajato  which  received  its 

ñame  because  it  was  so  narrow  that  lovers  walking  down  opposite 

sides  of  it  could  kiss  each  other  without  leaving  their  own  side  of 

the  Street — henee,  the  Street  of  the  Kiss. 

Calle  del  beso  (1938),  produced  under  the  direction  of  Charles  A. 

Dickinson. 

The  región  around  Guadalajara,  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Jalisco, 
is  called  the  "Tapatío."  Famed  for  its  gallant  charros  and  beauti- 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  13 


fui  señoritas,  it  has  both  cosmopolitan  and  rural  qualities  blended 
in  its  picturesque  life  which  may  be  found  only  in  México.  The 
"Rancho  Tapatío"  of  the  play  might  be  found  within  an  hour  or 
two  of  Guadalajara. 

Rancho  Tapatío  (1938),  produced  under  the  direction  of  Charles 
A.  Dickinson. 

The  representation  of  exotíc  costumes,  laughter,  guitars  and  romance  abound. 
In  each  of  these  folk  dramas,  the  basic  setting  involves  a  colorful  land  occupied  by 
beautiful  señoritas  and  handsome  charros.  Romance  develops  the  central  dramatic 
event  for  characters  whose  lives  are  represented  as  part  of  a  never-ending/jejífl.  In 
Rosita  (Figure  4),  the  character  ended  with  a  wedding  procession  in  which  the  play'  s 
cast  moved  out  through  the  auditorium  and  into  the  lobby,  followed  by  the  audience. 
Romances  such  as  Rosita  and  La  calle  del  beso  are  performances  that  generalize 
Mexicans,  creating  the  mythical  perception  of  a  romantic  ethnic  "other." 

In  plays  such  as  Qué  bonito  México  and  Rancho  Tapatío,  which  celébrate  the 
attractiveness  of  México  and  its  people,  the  female  subject  becomes  the  "object"  of 
this  representation,  a  symboI  of  a  romantic  nationality.  At  the  same  time  the  female 
representation  may  embody  a  submissive  sex  ^peal  (Figure  5).  Here,  gender 
becomes  a  social  construct  and  the  product  of  dominant  culture.  Within  a  power 
dynamic,  females  are  fashioned  into  genderized  objects,  constructed  to  benefit 
others.  Overall,  the  settings  in  Rosita,  Qué  bonito  México,  Calle  del  beso,  and 
Rancho  Tapatío,  could  be  taken  as  symbolizing  the  Carden  of  Edén  before  Eve 
decided  to  libérate  Adam  and  challenge  Cod. 

The  idealized  representations  of  ethnicity  and  female  subjectivity  that  charac- 
terized  so  many  of  the  plays  performed  by  the  Mexican  Players  in  the  1930s  had  their 
counterpart  in  films.  As  Antonio  Ríos  Bustamante  (21)  has  noted,  Hollywood 
created  and  exploited  images  of  [he  femnie  fatale  and  the  Latin  lo  ver  during  this 
same  time  period. 

Significantly,  the  ethnic  misrepresentations  found  in  both  these  media  pro- 
vided  audiences  with  a  reassuring,  though  false,  visión  of  a  glorious  past  at  a  time 
when  dramatic  changes  were  occurring  in  U.S.  society  at  large.  This  contrastis  well 
described  in  the  program  notes  of  México,  mi  tierra  (1937): 

A  composite  picture  of  the  Republic  of  México,  its  colorful  cities, 
rugged  mountains,  high  plateaus,  and  tropic  shores.  A  colorful 
saga  of  great  nation  revealed  in  the  song  and  dance  of  its  people. 
The  pulse  of  a  ne  w  world  race  mingled  in  primitive  Indian  rhythm 
and  stately  oíd  world  grace. 

The  lure  of  the  "other"  is  especially  sü"ong  during  times  of  social  and  economic 
upheavals  such  as  occurred  during  the  Great  Depression.  In  her  study  of  images  of 


14 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theaíre 


/i   -c,v 


\ 


\ 


4# 


r  ^  ^ 


lr^^^!-J 


Figure  4:  Cover  page  ofthe  "Program  Notes."  Padua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  at 
Pomona  Public  Library.) 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  15 


(Figure  5:  Scenefrom  "Qué  bonito  México  ".  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  ca  Pomona 

Public  Library.) 


16  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


Mexican-Americans  in  U.S.  literature,  Marcienne  Rocard  has  noted  "a  romantic 
nostalgia  for  the  past,  for  a  people  of  unchanging  valúes"  (5 1 )  in  the  woík  of  writers 
of  the  1930s  and  40s.l  ^  She  writes: 

With  the  apparent  failure  of  American  Civilization,  a  failure 
capped  off  by  the  Depression,  some  writers  tumed  to  people  with 
a  different  set  of  valúes.  Just  like  Presley,  Norris's  tum-of-the- 
century  romantic  poet,  Paul  Horgan's  poet  and  musician,  David 
and  Edmund  Abbey  respectively,  find  their  inspiration  in  the 
Mexican  people.  David  writes  poems  about  them  while  Edmund, 
in  his  symphony  titled  Mexicana,  attempts  to  capture  the  Mexi- 
can soul.  (53) 

Bess  Adams  Gamer's  interestin  and  supportof  the  Mexican  Players  was  finnly 
rooted  in  her  admiration  for  Mexicans  as  a  "different"  people.  Like  writers  of  her 
generation  such  as  Emest  Hemingway,  Richard  Summers,  and  John  Steinbeck, 
Bess  Gamer  found  her  inspiration  in  the  Mexican  people.  The  Mexican  Players 
represented  for  her  what  the  Paisanos  did  for  Steinbeck  in  Tortilla  Fiat  (1935).^^ 
According  to  her  ideaüstic  views  of  ethnic  relationships,  the  aim  of  Padua  Hills  was 
to  give  the  young  women  and  men  working  there  the  opportunity  to  express  their 
Mexicanness.  Moreover,  Gamer  proposed  to  insüll  in  these  young  Mexican  women 
and  men  a  pride  in  their  heritage  and  nationality.  Ironically,  her  efforts  were  based 
on  misconceptions  of  the  historical  and  social  condition  of  her  own  staff.  Some  of 
the  Players  were  from  México,  but  most  of  them  were  the  children  of  Mexican 
inmiigrants  living  in  Southern  Caüfomia. 

The  püght  of  U.S.  Mexicans  did  not  especially  interest  Bess  Gamer.  In  fact, 
although  she  described  herself  as  a  "sympathetic  observer"  of  a  "country  stmggling 
with  its  problems"  {Notes  164),  it  was  México  folk  culture  that  captured  her  heart. 
She  gave  little  or  no  attention  to  social,  economic  and  politicai  conditions  under 
which  Mexicans  and  Mexican  Americans  existed  during  the  1930s: 

I  do  not  know  what  will  happen  to  México  socially,  politically, 
or  economically .  And  1'  ve  written  and  am  writing  no  book  telling 
about  that.  I  have  loved  my  excursions  down  the  paths  leading 
away  from  the  main  road  with  its  problems,  back  to  the  folk 
background,  the  cultural  roots  of  the  people  I  find  so  dear.  (Notes 
164) 

That  Mrs.  Gamer  apparently  had  no  difficulty  holding  "dear"  a  people  whose 
actual  daily  existence  roused  in  her  neither  interest  ñor  sympathy  underscores  the 
nature  of  her  infatuation  with  México.  Her  "obsession"  with  that  country' s  "fasci- 
nating  aesthetics"  was  fatally  flawed  by  an  Anglo  ethnocentrism  she  never  even 
recognized,  much  less  overéame.  ^^  Believing  herself  sincerely  committed  to  an 


Mester,  Voi  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  17 


"authentic"  reproduction  of  Mexican  folk  culture  at  Pádua  Hills,  she  saw  no 
inconsistency  in  limiting  storylines  to  simplistic  romances  and  stage  settings  to 
colorfiil  and  exotic  designs  and  costumes. 

In  describing  her  relationship  with  the  Mexican  Players,  Bess  Gamer  suggested 
that  she  was  a  student  and  they  were  the  teachers: 

Five  years  ago  at  Pádua  Hills,  Claremont,  California,  a  group  of 
Mexican  young  people  and  I  started  the  Mexican  Players  of 
Pádua  Hills,  and  we  have  been  entertaining  our  theater  audiences 
since  that  time  with  plays,  using  the  folk-lore,  customs,  songs, 
and  dances  of  their  native  land.  I  knew  no  Spanish,  little  of 
Mexican  people,  and  nothing  about  México.  At  first  our  material 
had  to  come  entirely  from  the  young  people  of  the  group, 
struggling  with  their  inadequate  English  against  my  ignorance. 
(Notes  1) 

In  fact,  the  plays  were  based  on  simple  stories  formulated  either  by  Gamer 
herself  or  by  Charles  Dickinson  and  recorded  only  in  outhne  form.  During 
rehearsals,  the  dialogue  and  action  carne  automatically  out  of  the  natural  move- 
ments  of  the  young  actors  and  actresses.  Although  improvisations  in  the  style  of  the 
Italian  comrnedia  delVarte  enUvened  the  Mexican  Players  performances,  it  would 
be  naive  to  think  that  Gamer' s  role  as  director  did  not  influence  the  artistic 
developmentof  the  Mexican  Players.  As  "patrón"  and  founder  of  the  group,  she  was 
in  a  position  of  power. 

The  influence  of  Gamer' s  perception  of  authentic  Mexican  performances  is 
clear  in  the  plays  produced  by  Dickinson,  as  well.  For  example,  in  1937  Dickinson 
directedLa  Aúfe/íía  (Figure  6),  aplay  loosely  based  on  an  episode  in  Pancho  Villa' s 
life.  The  "Program  Notes"  from  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  summarizes  the 
plot  this  way: 

The  Mexican  Players  of  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  present  a 
dramatic  legend  of  the  revolution  based  upon  a  folk  tale  woven 
around  Pancho  Villa' s  favorite  song,  "Adelita''  and  portraying 
the  vivid  life  of  his  followers,  their  loyalty,  spirit,  the  invaluable 
Services  given  them  by  their  women  without  which  their  cam- 
paign  would  have  been  f  utile,  and  specially  the  supreme  sacrifice 
of  Adehta. 

In  this  versión  oí"LaAdelita,"  la  soldadera  (woman  soldier)  sacrifices  her  life 
for  revolutionary  hero  Pancho  Villa.  Adeüta  is  depicted  as  a  jealous  woman  who 
plans  the  murder  of  her  lover.  When  she  realizes  that  her  jealousy  is  groundless,  she 
takes  the  buUet  meant  for  the  General. 

The  play  not  only  misrepresents  the  story  of  Adelita,  it  transforms  this  strong, 


18 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


(Figure  6:  Scenefrom  "LaAdelita".  Padua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  oí  Pomona  Public 

Library.) 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  19 


courageous  soldier  into  a  powerless  victim  of  her  own  passions,  and  it  does  so  at  the 
hands  of  an  Anglo  director.  Dickinson's  play  "kills"  the  legacy  of  women  such  as 
Adelita,  Valentina,  and  many  oúier  soldaderas  of  the  Mexican  Revolution  of  1910, 
a  legacy  that  has  enriched  the  feminist  historical  background  of  women  of  Mexican 
descent  from  north  to  south  of  the  border.  The  revolutionary  spirit  of  Mexican 
women  is  distorted  and  weakened  by  the  exaltation  of  romanticism  in  the  play. 
Soldaderas  were  women  who  fought,  foraged  for  food,  cooked,  nursed  the  wounded, 
and  performed  many  other  services  during  the  Mexican  Revolution.  Most  of  the 
soldaderas  were  Indians  or  poor  mestizas.  Corridos  (ballads)  such  as  "La  Adelita" 
and  "La  Valentina"  gave  recognition  to  the  participation  of  soldaderas  in  the 
revolution.  (Soto  43-45) 

Marina,  directed  by  Bess  Adams  Gamer,  and  performed  during  the  same  year 
La  Adelita  was  staged,  is  similarly  flawed.  The  play's  plot  in  vol  ves  an  Anglo 
woman  trying  to  leam  about  Mexican  culture  (Figures  7  and  8) .  ^  ^  This  is  a  distortion 
of  the  highest  magnitude.  Marina,  or  Mahnche,  as  she  was  known  before  the 
conquest  of  México,  was  given  to  the  Mexican  conquistador  Hernán  Cortés  by  a 
Tabascan  tribe.^^  She  became  his  mistress,  mother  of  one  of  his  children,  and  a 
translator.  It  has  been  suggested  by  many  cultural  critics  and  historians  that  without 
Malinche  the  conquest  of  México  would  have  been  difficult,  and  perhaps  even 
impossible.  The  importance  of  Malinche,  not  only  as  symbolic  figure,  but  as  a 
powerful  historical  character,  lies  in  her  representation  of  the  ethnic  split  between 
the  indigenous  people  and  the  Spanish  conquistadores. 

Marina' s  interpretation,  featuring  an  Anglo  Malinche  searching  for 
Mexicanness,  is  aglaring  example  of  Anglo  ethnocentrism  in  relation  to  the  "ethnic- 
gender-other."  La  Malinche  and  La  Adelita  deserve  better  than  to  be  reduced  to 
comedies  that  deny  the  historical  and  psychological  reality  of  female  subjectivity 
within  a  historical  context. 

CONCLUSIÓN 

Although  my  interests  Ue  mainly  in  describing  and  analyzing  the  ways  in  which 
the  Pádua  Hills  productions  in  the  1930s  contributed  to  a  negative  stereotyping  of 
Mexicans  and  "old  California,"  the  story  of  the  Mexican  Players  would  be 
incomplete  without  some  discussions  of  the  positive  ef  fects  of  their  long  reign.  Bess 
Adams  Gamer' s  accidental  discovery  of  the  talents  of  her  service  staff  was 
providential  for  these  young  people  as  well  as  for  the  Gamers .  The  Great  Depression 
drastically  affected  both  Anglo  and  Mexican  society  in  Southern  California;  theatre 
people  were  no  exception.  In  Hispanic  Theatre  in  the  United  States,  Nicolás 
Kanellos  describes  the  impact  of  the  Depression  on  the  Hispanic  theatre  in  the 
Southwest  and  the  Midwest.  He  maintains  that  artists  in  the  Southwest  who  wanted 
to  practice  their  profession  had  three  cholees: 

(1)  [they  could]  retum  to  México  and  eke  out  a  Uving  there; 

(2)  stay  on  in  the  Southwest  and  place  their  art  at  the  service  of 


20  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


y^  M  EX  IC  AN     P  LAyERS/?r^Sfy7/a  roma/Tfk 

JUNE  SOtoAUGUST  28J937     >i 

v^ao>  xnwt*.  PRi»  s^~'  «VB>  «^      *^  -■  lili»/        -    -   -^ 


A^^er  each  /xr/orrrt<,nc0  //-e  ío^^í.  Jaeces,  fo^e*, of  a  coíor- /       \  S  ^ 

'Oa**u¡Ueaí  ^ 

PADUA^H  I LLS,  Tjy  EATREV^ 


(Figure  7:  "Marina.  "  Padua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  at  Pomona  Public  Library.) 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  21 


(Figure  8:  Scenefrom  "Marina".  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  at  Pomona  Public  Library.) 


22  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


the  church  and  community  charities,  but  give  up  hopes  of  making 
a  living  from  the  stage; 

(3)  or  move  to  New  York  where  the  growing  influx  of  Puerto 
Ricans  during  the  Depression  and  war  years  gave  them  a  second 
life  on  the  stage,  principally  as  vaudevillians.  A  few  other  artists 
were  able  to  land  jobs  in  Spanish-language  radio  and  small  tent 
theatres  that  toured  the  border.  (11) 

The  Mexican  Players,  with  their  dual  roles  as  performers  and  workers,  were  so 
valuable  to  the  Padua  Institute  that  they  weathered  the  Depression  with  much  less 
hardship  than  their  counterparts  eisewhere.  The  Mexican  Players'  popularity  may 
also  have  helped  insulate  them  from  the  uptum  in  anti-Mexican  sentiments  that 
accompanied  the  Depression.  State  and  Federal  deportation  and  repatriation  cam- 
paigns  were  initiated  in  Southern  California  during  the  Depression,  and  the 
influential  nativist  tract  The  Alien  in  our  Midst  was  published  in  1930.  Woricing  at 
Padua  Hills  gave  the  Mexican  Players  a  measure  of  emotional  and  psychological 
protection  as  well  as  an  economic  boost. 

The  popularity  and  profitability  of  the  Mexican  Players,  coupled  with  the 
Gamers  own  interest  in  México,  led  them,  along  with  most  of  the  Anglo  executives 
of  México.  Deuel  notes: 

Believing  that  the  future  of  Padua  Hills  lay  with  the  Mexican 
Players,  the  Gamers  plunged  whole-heartedly  into  the  task  of 
leaming  about  México.  They  had  been  interested  in  Mexican 
culture  for  many  years,  but  they  were  in  no  way  steeped  in 
information  about  the  country.  In  order  to  be  of  more  assistance 
in  the  role  of  director  which  had  fallen  to  her,  Mrs.  Gamer  made 
the  firstof  many  trips  to  México,  where  she  coUected  material  for 
future  plays,  bought  costumes  to  be  used  at  Padua,  and  made 
contacts  with  govemment  officials  which  later  proved  to  be  of 
great  valué.  (27) 

One  positive  outcome  of  the  Gamers'  productive  relationship  with  the  Mexican 
govemment  was  the  arrival  at  Padua  Hills  of  several  outstanding  Mexican  artists, 
sent  by  the  Ministry  of  Education.  The  visitors  lived  and  worked  with  the  Players. 
The  first  of  these  invited  instmctors,  Luz  María  Garcés,  visited  the  institution  in 
1934  (Deuel  33).^^  The  next  year,  Francisco  Sánchez  Florez,  an  artist  from 
Guadalajara,  joined  the  Mexican  Players.  His  visit  was  particularly  significant 
because  he  produced  ¿ídolos  muertos?  {Are  the  ídols  Dead?,  Figure  9)  which 
introduced  to  Padua  Hills  the  traditional  Jamaica  (Deuel  35,  Blakeslee  53). ^^ 

In  the  fall  of  1935,  actress  Graciela  Amador  visited  Padua  as  an  instructor.  She 
became  very  popular  with  the  artistic  members  of  the  Players.  She  was  not  only  an 
actress  and  director,  but  a  great  musician.  She  was  a  relative  of  Casilda  Amador,  a 
noted  performer  of  the  group  (Figure  10  and  11). 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  23 


(Figure  9:  Scenefrom  "¿ídolos  Muertos?"  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  at  Pomona 

Public  Library.) 


24 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


(Figure  10:  Graciela  Amador.  Padua  Hills  Theatre  Collection  at  Pomona  Public 

Library.  ) 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  25 


(Figure  11:  Casilda  Amador.  Pádua  Hills  Thectíre  Collection  at  Pomona  Public  Library.) 


26 


Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


ÁGUILA-NOPAL 

THE    EAGLE  AND  CACTUS 


'^■'  _Y^ 


FE ATUR 1 N  G         *.  ,  ..¿^«^^ '•ífí^**'-  ^' 

GRACIELA  AMADOR 

Ais  !  S  TtO  5iY  THS 

fALXlCAN  PLAYEflS 

h 
PRESENTED      NOV.  6,7,  Ô.  S>/^»935 


AT 


THa  DADUA  HILLS  THÈOTÉ.' 


(Figure  12:  The  cover  page  from  the  program  notes  of  "Águila  y  Nopal.  "Padua  Hills 
Theatre  Collection  at  Potnona  Public  Library.) 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  27 


As  Deuel  (35)  points  out,  in  November  of  1935,  Graciela  Amador  directed 
Águila  y  nopal  (Eagle  and  Cactus,  Figure  12),  a  musical  play  that  represented  a 
natíonalist  visión  of  México  with  its  different  regions. 

The  improvisational  nature  of  the  plays  produced  by  Gamer  and  Dickinson  also 
provided  some  scope  for  the  talents  of  the  individual  actors  and  actresses.  Charac- 
ters  often  engaged  the  audiences  in  conversations,  making  the  "spectatorship"  feel 
as  an  essenüal  part  of  the  play.  For  example,  the  wedding  procession  in  Rosita 
followed  by  the  audience.  Of  course,  there  were  limits  on  the  áreas  of  production 
the  Players  could  affect.  In  the  1930s,  Mexicans  were  virtually  absent  from  the 
technical  side  of  stage  production  and  management 

Many  changes  took  place  at  Pádua  with  the  beginning  of  World  War  II.  ^  ^  After 
some  of  the  Anglo  producers  and  directors  were  draf  ted,  women  began  to  have  more 
of  a  presence  in  the  institute.  In  the  "News  Notes"  on  the  Pádua  Hills  Theatre 
Collection  of  1943,  Hermán  Gamer  announced: 

How  can  the  work  go  on  with  these  two  directors  and  so  many 
others  draf  ted?  Well,  Hilda  Ramírez  has  taken  on  the  main  load 
of  the  directing  in  addition  to  her  responsability  for  the  costumes. 
She  is  doing  a  swell  job,  too.  [She]  Has  very  excellent  ideas.  Miss 
Maijory  AUen  who  is  now  living  at  Pádua  Hills  will  be  available 
for  consultation  and  assistance.  Mrs.  Dickinson  [is]  back  on  the 
job  on  the  technical  end. 

Nevertheless,  the  false  notions  of  Mexican  identity,  culture,  and  history  that 
characterized  so  many  of  the  Pádua  Hills  productions  during  the  1930s  live  on. 
Racial  stereotyping  and  distortions  of  ethnicity  and  female  representation  vis-a-vis 
Mexicans  and  Latinos  in  the  U.S.  have  not  disappeared.  Nor  is  there  an  end  to  the 
romanticism  that  plagued  the  Mexican  Players.  I  agree  with  the  Mexican  writer  Luis 
Quintanilla,  who  pointed  out  in  1943  the  Anglo  habit  of  confusing  passion  with 
romanticism.  In  his  book  A  Latin  American  Speaks,  Quintanilla  noted: 

Here  we  fmd  ourselves  confronted  with  another  current  preju- 
dice.  "5o,  so  romantic"  is  usually  follow  by  a  wistful  sigh  straight 
from  the  heart  of  an  otherwise  normal,  undemonstrative  school- 
teacher.  One  prejudice  is  as  bad  as  the  other.  The  U.S.A.  has  no 
more  a  monopoly  on  freedom  than  we  have  on  romance.  Of 
course,  we  love  romance.  But  be  careful  with  the  word  "roman- 
tic."  Latin  Americans  are  passionate,  not  romantic  people.  (32) 


28  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


Real  change  will  require  re-educating  those  in  power  so  that  the  views  of  the 
dominant  group  can  be  brought  more  fully  into  Une  with  the  true  social,  cultural,  and 
politicai  identity  of  Mexicans  and  other  minorities  in  the  U.S. 

Alicia  Anizón 

University  of  Califontía,  Riverside 


NOTES 

^Mexican  Serenade:  The  Story  ofthe  Mexican  Players  and  the  Padua  Hills  Theatre  was  the 

first  published  historical  account  ofthe  Padua  Hills  Theatre.  There  are  also  two  unpublished 

master's  theses:  Selma  Elizabeth  Louisa  Litle,  "The  Padua  Hills  Project  Introduces  Mexican 

Folk  Lore  Into  California  Culture,"  University  of  CaUfomia  at  Los  Angeles,  1943;  and 

Margaret  Simpson  Hall,  "Padua  Hills  Mexican  Theatre:  An  Experiment  in  ínter-Cultural 

Relations,"  Claremont  Colleges,  1944.  The  most  recent  publication  is  Norma  Hopland 

Blakeslee's,  "Historyof  Padua  Hills  Theatre,"  Pomona  Valley  Historian9  (Spring  1973),  46- 

66. 

^I  am  specifically  referring  to  the  emergence  oíTeatro  Campesino  and  its  role  in  the  Chicano 

movement  of  the  1960s.  The  Chicano  theatre  movement  can  only  be  understood  in  relation 

to  a  larger  context:  politicai,  social  and  cultural  movement  of  which  it  was  a  part.  Luis  Valdez, 

with  his  Farm  Workers  Theatre  recreated  the  "actos"  (acts  or  sketch),  in  which  social  and 

politicai  issues  were  represen ted  in  a  very  comical  way.  The  actos  themselves  depicted  events 

and  characters  famiüar  to  all  who  had  grown  up  in  the  barrios. 

^My  perspective  in  no  way  detracts  from  the  significant  contributions  of  Deuel  and 

Blakeslee,  whose  studies  have  been  invaluable  in  documenting  the  historical  experience  of 

the  Mexican  Players  and  in  disseminating  Information  previously  available  only  in  archival 

form. 

^As  a  part  of  the  Valley  Community  Theatre  in  Pomona,  this  group  was  organized  in  1928 

by  Bess  Adams  Garner.  The  group  consisted  of  approximately  30  members. 

^Padua  HUls  was  named  for  the  Italian  city  of  Padova,  a  famous  university  town,  with  an 

atmosphere  similar  to  that  of  Claremont  and  its  many  colleges.  The  ñame  Padua  was  also 

associated  with  the  San  Antonio  Peak,  which  dominates  the  Sierra  Madre  mountain  range  and 

the  valleys  of  this  part  of  Southern  CaUfomia,  because  Anthony  is  the  patrón  saint  of  Padua. 

"Padua  HiUs  continued  as  an  exclusively  Mexican  theatre  for  more  than  40  years,  fmaUy 

closing  in  1974. 

'David  Streeter  currently  works  in  the  special  collection  department  of  the  Pomona  Public 

Library.  I  gratefuUy  acknowledge  his  help  and  his  confidence  in  lending  me  the  material 

available  on  Padua  HiUs. 

"Charles  A.  Dickinson  was  director  of  the  theatre  for  many  years  until  his  death  in  1950.  His 

association  with  Padua  began  when  he  was  a  gradúate  student  in  Claremont.  He  wrote  most 

of  the  plays  that  were  performed  during  the  1930s. 

^The  first  of  the  organization's  Articles  of  Incorporation  stipulated  the  ñame  of  the 

Corporation  as  the  Padua  Institute.  In  addition  to  the  objectives  noted  in  the  text,  the  second 

article  of  incorporation  stated  that  the  institution  was  intended  to  establish,  maintain,  and 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  29 


conduct  an  educational  institution  or  school  for  the  teaching  of  music,  dramatics,  arts,  and 

crafts.  These  articles  were  endorsed  and  filed  in  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  the  State  of 

California  on  December  30,  1935.  The  document  was  undersigned  by  H.  H.  Garner,  Bess 

Adams  Garner,  Erlo  V.  Simon,  Mary  Nicholl  Kerr  and  Robert  J.  Bemard.  The  trustees'  copy 

of  the  articles  of  incorporation  can  be  found  in  the  Pomona  Public  Library. 

^"This  quote  is  taken  from  one  of  the  scrapbooks  located  at  Pádua  Hills  Theatre  Collection 

at  Pomona  Public  Library.  This  álbum  was  put  together  by  Bess  Adams  Garner  in  the  1940s. 

^^These  passages  are  verbatim  quotes.  The  someíimes  senseless  language  is  a  further 

indication  of  the  lack  of  sensitivity  toward  the  perception  of  the  culture  and  people  of 

Mexican  descent. 

^^The  French  critic  examines  the  work  of  Mexican  American  as  well  as  Anglo  American 

authors,  demonstrating  the  former  evolution  from  the  corrido,  with  its  subtle  criticism  of 

Anglos,  to  broader  writings  that  address  the  loss  of  cultural  identity.  Rocard  studies  the 

changing  image  of  the  Mexican  American  over  three  periods:  from  the  United  States' 

annexationof  the  Southwest  in  1848  to  1940;  the  "assimilationisfperiod  from  1940  to  1965; 

and  the  explosive  period  of  the  Chicano  movement,  from  1965  to  1974. 

^•^  Rocard  describes  Tortilla  Fiai  as  the  first  book  of  real  value  devoted  to  Americans  of 

Mexican  origin. 

^^lie  term  "obsession"  and  "fascinating  aesthetics"  are  part  of  Jon  Slott's  description  of 

Bess  Garner' s  relationship  with  the  Mexican  Players.  (10) 

^^The  dramatic  text  was  written  by  Emily  Wardman  Bell. 

^"Malinche  was  also  known  as  Malintzín  Tenepal  and,  later  by  her  Spanish  name,  doña 

Marina. 
1 7 
Luz  Maria  Garcés  was  a  respected  dancer  and  specialist  on  Mexican  folklore.  She  taught 

songs  and  dances;  designed  costumes;  and  helf>ed  to  write  some  of  the  plays.  From  January 

19  to  March  30,  her  play  Mi  compadre  Juan  was  staged.  Apparently,  she  also  directed  the 

songs  and  dances  in  Cuadros  de  México  viejo.  I  found  this  information  in  the  program  notes 

in  one  of  the  scrapbooks  of  the  coUection.  However,  this  play  does  not  appear  in  the 

"Repertoire  of  the  Mexican  Players  of  Pádua  HiUs,"  listed  in  Deuel's  book. 

"With  the  play  ¿ídolos  muertos?,  the  Jamaica  started  to  take  place  every  summer  at  Pádua 

Hills.  This  type  of  Mexican  fair  still  takes  place  in  some  áreas  of  Southern  California.  Also 

Jamaica  is  a  delicious  fruit  made  from  dried  petáis  of  the  roselle  plant  imported  froni  the 

island  of  Jamaica. 

^'^The  research  of  Marian  Perales  and  Alicia  Rodriguez  reveáis  that  World  War  11  positively 

affected  the  women  at  Pádua  Hills  since  they  began  to  occupy  roles  men  traditionally  held. 

Rodriguez  and  Perales  are  currently  gradúate  students  in  the  History  Department  at  Claremont 

Gradúate  School. 


WORKS  CITED 

Blakeslee,  Norma  Hopland.  "History  of  Pádua  Hills  Theatre,"  Pomona  Valíey  Historian  9 

(Spring  1973):  46-66. 
Deuel,  Pauline  B .  Mexican  Serenade:  The  Story  ofThe  Mexican  Players  and  The  Pádua  Hills 

Theatre.  Claremont:  Pádua  Instimte,  1961. 
Dolan,  Jill.  The  Feminist  Spectator  as  Critic.  Ann  Arbor:  The  Universityof  Michigan  Press, 

1988. 


30  Mexican  California  and  The  Padua  Hills  Theatre 


Gamer,  Bess  Adams.  yíéxico:  Notes  in  the  Margin.  Boston:  Houghton  Mifflin  Company, 

1937. 
.  The  Pilgrimage  Diary  ofthe  Mexican  Players  of  Padua  Hills.  The  Vortox  Printing 

Department,  1934. 
Kanellos,  Nicx)lás.  Hispanic  Theatre  in  the  United  States.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1984. 
Litle,  Selma  Elisabeth.  "The  Padua  Hills  Project  Introduces  Mexican  Folk  Lore  Into 

Caüfomia  Culture."  Unpubüshed  Master's  Thesis,  University  of  California,  Los 

Angeles,  1943. 
Madison,  Grant  and  Charles  Stewart  Davison,  eds.  The  Alien  in  Our  Midst  or  "Selling  our 

Birthright  for  a  Mess  ofPottagé".  New  York:  The  Galton  Publishing  Co.,  1930 
Noriega,  Chon  A.  ed.  Chicanas  and  Film:  Representation  and  Resistance.  Minneapolis: 

University  of  Minnesota  Press,  1992. 
Padua  HiUs  Theatre  Collection.  "Program  Notes  and  Other  Archival  Material."  Pomona 

Public  Library. 
Quintanilla,  Luis.  A  Latin  American  Speaks.  New  York:  The  Macmillan  Company,  1943. 
Ríos-Bustamante,  Antonio.  "Latino  Participation  in  the  Hollywood  Fihn  Industry,  1911- 

1945."  Chícanos  and  Film:  Representation  and  Resistance.  Ed.  Chon  A.  Noriega. 

Minneapolis:  University  of  Minnesota  Press,  1992. 
Rocard,  Marcienne.  The  Children  ofthe  Sun:  Mexican  Americans  in  the  Literature  ofthe 

United  States.  Tucson:  The  University  of  Arizona  Press,  1989. 
Simpson  Hall,  Margaret.  "Padua  Hills  Mexican  Theatre:  An  Experiment  in  ínter-Cultural 

Relations."  Unpublished  Master's  Thesis:  Claremont  Colleges,  1944. 
Slott,  Jon.  'In  Setting  of  Natural  Grandeur:  Art  is  at  Home  in  Padua  Hills,"  Southern 

California  Parade  NA'íApril  1936):  10-12. 
Soto,  Shirline.  Emergence  ofthe  Modem  Mexican  Woman:  Her  Participation  inRevolution 

and  Struggle  for  Equality  1910- 1940.  Denver:  Arden  Press  Inc.,  1990. 
Steinbeck,  John.  Tortilla  Fiat .  New  York:  Covici  &  Friede  Publishers,  1935. 
Webb,  Carol.  "Little  Theatre  in  the  Pomona  Valley,"  Pomona  Valley  Historian  9  (1973):  69- 

72 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring  1994)  31 


La  representación  de  la  mujer  mexicana 

en  los  EE.UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas 

de  Jorge  Ulica 


I 

La  recopilación  de  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Julio  G.  Arce  (alias  Jorge  Ulica) 
debe  de  ser  analizada  y  estudiada  tomando  en  cuenta  las  características  socio- 
históricas  y  culturales  del  momento  de  su  aparición  en  los  periódicos  de  California 
y  del  suroeste  de  los  Estados  Unidos  alrededor  de  1920.  Los  ensayos  son  muy 
diversos  en  cuanto  se  refiere  a  la  temática  pero  sobresale  el  fenómeno  de  la 
aculturación  de  aquellas  personas,  especialmente  las  mujeres,  recién  inmigradas  a 
los  Estados  Unidos.  ^  Aparentemente,  a  primera  vista  resalta  un  tono  humorístico; 
sin  embargo,  en  una  lectura  más  cuidadosa  se  puede  notar  que  surgen  contradicciones 
por  parle  del  autor  en  cuanto  a  su  posición  política  e  ideológica. 

Para  el  objeto  del  presente  trabajo  es  importante  aclarar  que  el  enfoque 
primordial  consiste  en  presentar  larelación  que  existe  entre  las  críticas  observaciones 
de  Uhca  y  las  publicaciones  de  la  prensa  en  ese  momento.  Ulica  observa  el  conflicto 
cultural  que  las  mujeres  de  origen  mexicano  atraviesan  en  el  momento  de  situarse 
en  un  espacio  desconocido  y  extranjero,  los  Estados  Unidos  de  Norteamérica,  y 
como  la  prensa  en  su  formato  y  redacciones  contradecía  y  desvalorizaba  los 
esfuerzos  que  las  mujeres  estaban  logrando  históricamente  en  ambos  lados  de  la 
frontera.  La  importancia  de  esta  colección  reside  en  lo  vivido  de  la  descripción 
porque  nos  provee  con  una  información  concreta  de  una  población  en  transición  en 
la  década  de  los  años  1920.  De  ahí  que  el  propósito  de  este  ensayo  es  demostrar  la 
perspectiva  de  una  circunstancia  socio-histórica,  la  existencia  de  una  narrativa  que 
muestra  predominantemente  la  formación  de  una  sociedad  chicana  y  cómo  las 
mujeres  contribuyen  a  la  construcción  de  ésta.^ 

Esta  colección  recopilada  por  Juan  Rodríguez  es  importante,  sobre  todo, 
porque  presenta  las  características  y  rasgos  de  una  sociedad  en  transición  desde  la 
perspectiva  de  un  mexicano  autoexiliado  durante  la  Revolución  mexicana.  Según 
Rodríguez  en  su  introducción: 

[A]nte  el  peligro  de  perder  su  vida.  Arce  decide  salir  de  México 
en  el  primer  buque  que  se  presente.  "Por  pura  casualidad  ese 


32        La  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.  UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Ulica 


buque  venía  rumbo  a  San  Francisco.. .fue  pura  coincidencia  lo  de 
San  Francisco."  (14) 

Arce  llega  a  San  Francisco  en  1915  y  se  encuentra  ante  una  gran  comunidad,  la 
mayoría  mexicanos.  Después  de  intentar  varios  trabajos  manuales,  ve  la  posibilidad 
de  continuar  con  su  labor  periodística  que  realizaba  en  México.  Su  capacidad  y 
formación  como  periodista  le  proporciona  la  oportunidad  de  escribir  estos  pequeños 
ensayos  o  crónicas  que  se  enfocan  en  la  experiencia  de  convivir  en  la  sociedad 
anglosajona.  Esta  experiencia  es  la  transición  que  da  raíz  a  lo  que  se  considera  como 
cultura  chicana. 

II 
Es  de  suma  importancia  reconocer  el  gran  influjo  de  los  intelectuales  que  se 
exiliaron  a  los  Estados  Unidos  a  principios  del  siglo  XX  y  cómo  éstos  contribuyeron 
a  que  los  periódicos  existentes  adquirieran  otro  nivel  de  producción.  Sin  embargo, 
se  debe  notar  que  aunque  ellos  contribuyeron  en  la  prensa  o  fundaron  nuevos 
periódicos  ya  existían  muchos  periódicos  en  españoP.  Los  periódicos  tenían 
diferentes  funciones.  De  acuerdo  a  Carlos  E.  Cortés,  los  periódicos  en  español 
comparten  tres  roles  importantes  en  Estados  Unidos: 

[A]s  instruments  to  social  control,  as  Instruments  of  social 
activism,  and  as  reflections  of  Chicano  life.  As  instruments  of 
social  control,  they  have  spread  official  govemment  Information 
about  how  Americans  are  supposed  to  act  and  have  socialized 
Chícanos  into  the  "American  way  of  thinking."  As  instruments  of 
social  activism,  they  have  protested  against  discrimination,  poinied 
out  the  lack  of  pubüc  services  for  Mexican  Americans,  raised 
Chicano  social  consciousness,  and  exhorted  Mexican  Americans 
to  take  action.  As  reflections  of  Chicano  life,  they  have  printed 
poetry,  essays,  letters,  and  other  forms  of  Mexican- American 
expression.  (254;  el  énfasis  es  mío) 

Hay  que  tomar  en  consideración  que  la  orientación  de  cada  periódico  variaba  de 
acuerdo  al  lugar  de  pubHcación,  pero  lo  que  más  importa  es  que  fue  una  avenida  de 
expresión  accesible  y  fiable  para  la  preservación  de  un  momento  histórico.  En  el 
excelente  trabajo  de  Herminio  Ríos  y  Guadalupe  Castillo  que  realizaron 
concentrándose  en  los  estados  de  Arizona,  California,  Colorado,  New  México  y 
Texas,  identificaron  372  periódicos  en  español  o  bilingües  que  estaban  establecidos 
entre  1 848  y  1 940.  Este  resultado  de  Ríos  y  Castillo  muestra  la  determinación  de  una 
población  por  mantener  a  la  comunidad  informada,  de  reportar  las  relaciones  y  de 
proveer  un  espacio  de  expresión. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Voi  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring  1994)  33 


III 
El  periódico,  como  antes  he  mencionado,  fue  la  matriz  donde  se  podia  publicar 
y  fue  donde  muchos  intelectuales  que  se  exiliaron  en  los  Estados  Unidos  publicaban. 
Entre  ellos  se  encuentra  Julio  G.  Arce  (Jorge  Ulica),  que  se  establece  en  Califórnia"^. 
De  acuerdo  a  Clara  Lomas,  Jorge  Ulica  proyecta  una  posición  ambivalente: 

Ulica  no  toma  una  posición  definida  ante  el  conflicto  cultural  y 
político  entre  los  dos  grupos  étnicos,  yaque  la  "CrónicaDiabólica" 
le  permite  mantenerse  en  este  vaivén  entre  una  postura  de 
resistencia  cultural  y  otra  de  apropiación  ideológica.  Como 
mexicano  se  burla  de  la  aculturación  del  elemento  mexicano.  Sin 
embargo,  como  persona  con  intereses  de  clase  media  o  alta, 
convenientemente  acepta  y  se  acomoda  dentro  de  un  plano 
individualista  a  lo  que  le  ofrece  la  sociedad  dominante. (48) 

Sin  embargo,  también  vacila  en  identificarse  con  sus  compatriotas  ya  que  como 
antes  mencionado,  él  proviene  de  una  clase  social  alta  diferente  a  la  que  pertenecen 
la  mayoría  de  inmigrantes  mexicanos.  Por  la  seguridad  de  pertenecer  a  una  esfera 
social  alta  y  de  poseer  una  formación  diferente,  él  se  autoacredita  el  derecho  de 
criticar  mordazmente  algunos  de  los  aspectos  de  la  cultura  anglosajona  y  a  los 
mexicanos  que  intentan  adoptar  parte  de  esa  cultura  y  que  en  el  proceso  de 
aculturación  fracasan.  Aspectos  de  la  sociedad  anglosajona  son:  la  obsesión 
competitiva  en  el  fútbol,  los  bailes,  el  proceso  electoral  y  muchos  más.  Sin  embargo, 
él  es  más  crítico  con  aquellas  personas  que  no  tienen  éxito  al  aculturarse  a  este 
"nuevo"  estado. 

IV 
A  lo  largo  de  sus  colunmas,  Ulica  generalmente  sigue  un  patrón:  presenta  el 
problema,  lo  desarrolla  y  el  final  o  resultado  es  fatal.  Como  antes  he  mencionado, 
la  mujer  es  el  personaje  principal  y  como  ella  está  en  control  de  la  situación,  el 
problema  no  se  resuelve  debido  a  que  ella  es  la  que  lo  controla.  El  no  proyecta  una 
representación  positiva  de  la  muj  er,  ni  siquiera  reconoce  el  intento  que  ella  hace  para 
beneficiar  o  resolver  la  situación  específica.  Lo  que  Ulica  revela  es  la  imagen  de  la 
mujer  fracasada  porque  carece  de  otras  herramientas  de  defensa:  ella  no  pertenece 
a  la  clase  social  alta,  no  tiene  una  educación  formal,  desconoce  la  lengua  y,  sobre 
todo,  no  posee  una  rígida  norma  de  etiqueta.  Por  lo  tanto,  él  apela  a  que  mantenga 
sus  tradiciones  típicas  y  no  se  involucre  en  áreas  que  están  generalmente  destinadas 
al  sexo  mascuUno. 

V 
En  este  momento  histórico,  Uüca  no  era  el  único  con  esta  actitud.  También  La 
Prensa,  el  periódico  de  más  renombre  en  San  Antonio,  Texas,  y,  por  supuesto,  con 
el  mayor  número  de  lectores,  insistía  en  que  la  mujer  continuara  con  ese  mismo 


34         La  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.  UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Ulica 


patrón  tradicional  de  actividades: 

[N]ever  encouraged  the  Mexican  woman  to  seek  professional 
careers  or  to  attempt  self-realization  anywhere  other  than  inside 
the  home  or  in  occupations  that  were  stereotypically  acceptable 
for  the  woman — teaching  inside  the  home,  of  course,  was  one  of 
these  "acceptable  jobs."  (Lawhn  65) 

Representando  a  la  mujer  de  esa  manera  antifeminista,  Ulica  y  los  periódicos  no 
reconocen  los  logros  que  la  mujer  mexicana  había  adquirido  en  noviembre  de  19 16 
en  el  primer  congreso  feminista  que  tuvo  lugar  en  Mérida,  Yucatán.  El  movimiento 
y  organización  de  La  Liga  Femenil  Latino  Americana  surgió  a  raíz  de  que  en  los 
Estados  Unidos  las  mujeres  habían  adquirido  el  derecho  de  votar  en  ocho  estados 
en  1912^.  Además,  mientras  en  México  se  intensificaba  el  movimiento  feminista. 
La  Prensa  continuaba  publicando  ensayos  editoriales  que  no  favorecían  a  la  mujer, 
junto  a  ensayos  que  abogaban  por  el  papel  tradicional  del  hombre  (Lawhn  67).  Con 
esta  politización  y  toma  de  conciencia  masiva  de  las  mujeres  que  estaba  sucediendo 
en  ambos  lados  de  la  frontera,  cabe  la  posibilidad  de  que  la  manera  en  que  Ulica 
presenta  a  las  mujeres  sólo  fuese  una  reacción  en  contra  del  surgimiento  de  los 
derechos  de  la  mujer. 

VI 

Las  mujeres  son  las  que  más  sufren  de  su  mordaz  crítica  por  ser  ellas  el  centro, 
la  base  de  la  familia,  las  que  mantienen  la  unión  familiar  y  las  que  continúan  con  las 
tradiciones  familiares  y  culturales.  Por  lo  tanto,  ellas  son  responsables  de  que  las 
tradiciones  familiares  se  vayan  deteriorando.  De  acuerdo  a  Ulica,  ella  es  la  que 
intenta  la  incorporación  en  un  espacio  que  rompe  con  los  roles  tradicionales  de  la 
mujer  y  no  es  una  práctica  apropiada  para  el  género  femenino.  De  ahí  que  Ulica  se 
enfoca  en  las  consecuencias  negativas  y  no  en  los  logros  obtenidos.  Para  Uüca  el 
hecho  de  que  la  madre  sostenga  a  su  hija  sin  la  ayuda  de  un  hombre  no  es  admirable 
porque  tiene  que  sacrificar  su  apariencia  física  y  el  aprendizaje  del  inglés: 

Pero  sucedió  que  las  estimables  Pisarrecios  (madre  e  hija)  se 
habían  dedicado,  desde  su  llegada  a  estos  mundos,  a  regentear  un 
expendio  de  carnes ...  Así  es  que  una  y  otra  sólo  sabían  en  aquello 
de  "speak  english,"  unas  cuantas  palabrejas  y  frases  de  uso  muy 
común  . . .  (52) 

Para  Ulica,  el  hecho  de  que  ellas,  madre  e  hija,  tenían  que  trabajar  para  sobrevivir, 
no  es  una  justificación  de  no  hablar  bien  el  inglés.  También  Ulica  considera  que  en 
el  momento  en  el  que  la  mujer  adopta  nuevas,  fáciles  y  prácticas  formas  anglosajonas 
de  cocinar,  desintegra  la  armonía  de  la  familia  por  el  desastre  que  causa: 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  ¿c  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring  1994)  35 


Lo  maio  es  que  Lugardita  ya  no  quiere  guisar  "mexican,"  como 
ella  dice.  Se  ha  enamorado  de  la  cocina  americana  con  un  afecto 
profundo,  y  ahora  hace  "beefsteaks" . . .  Hasta  los  frijoles  refritos 
los  guisa  ahora  al  "american  style".  (116) 

Para  que  esta  familia  no  sufra  desastres  culinarios,  Ulica  sugiere  que  se  le  trate  a  él 
como  compatriota  y  se  le  ofrezca  comida  típica  mexicana  a  la  que  él  está 
acostumbrado.  No  sólo  la  cocina  es  el  espacio  donde  se  enfoca  Ulica  sino  que 
también  en  la  personalidad  de  la  mujer.  El  hecho  de  que  ella  se  ve  ante  el  deseo  de 
seguir  las  nuevas  modas  de  vestir  tiene  repercusiones  negativas  y  bajas.  Ella  es 
también  criticada  por  tener  la  opción  de  contestar  a  un  anuncio  por  palabras  en  el 
periódico  en  el  que  un  hombre  busca  esposa.  Ulica  representa  esa  relación  como  un 
desastre  total  donde  ella  es  la  culpable  por  romper  con  la  forma  tradicional  de 
encontrar  marido: 

Había  puesto  él  un  anuncio  en  los  periódicos  diciendo  que 
deseaba  cambiar  "english  for  spanish,"  y  como  ella  deseaba 
mejorar  su  "english,"  llamó  al  individuo  aquel.  Principió  el 
intercambio  de  voces.  Al  principio  eran  voces  dulces,  armoniosas. 
Sólo  se  hablaba  de  "love"  caricias,  ternura,  "lots  of  kisses,"  y 
otras  lindezas.  Hubo  matrimonio  y  el  estado  del  léxico  fue  siendo 
más  enérgico  hasta  que  se  llegó  a  los  "tales  por  los  cuales"  en 
"spanish"  y  a  los  "foolish,"  "son  of  a  gun,"  y  "black  dogs"  en 
"enghsh."  (25) 

También  ridicuüza  a  aquella  que  desea  un  hombre  oloroso  y  aseado  diferente  a  los 
de  su  propia  raza: 

No  me  "miente"  a  Teódulo,  lo  dejé  por  prieto,  por  viejo  y  porque 
no  tenía  olor  en  los  dientes  como  los  "americans"...  Cuando  me 
divorcié,  se  aguantó;  pero  cuando  me  casé  con  "Jim,"  se  enojó  y 
me  dijo  que  las  piedras  se  encuentran  rodando  y  que  ya  nos 
encontraría  ...  y  temo  que  me  dé  una  garrotiza  o  se  la  dé  a 
"Jimmy."  (95) 

Niega  el  derecho  a  que  la  mujer  sea  feliz  por  haberse  divorciado  de  su  esposo 
mexicano.  Él  no  acepta  que  ella  también  tiene  el  derecho  de  escoger,  por  ejemplo, 
cuando  ellas  deciden  celebrar  su  propio  cumpleaños  al  estilo  americano  con  una 
autocreada  surprise-party:  "Como  se  acerca  el  día  del  santo  de  la  señora  doña  Lola 
Flores,  ésta  no  quiso  perder  la  oportunidad  de  ser  agasajada  y  celebrada  a  la  usanza 
de  este  país"  (77).  La  fiesta  sorpresa  no  les  salió  como  la  habían  planeado  por  eso 
ellas  están  también  sujetas  a  la  burla  punzante  de  Ulica  por  carecer  de  un  buen 
conocimiento  de  la  cultura.  Utilizar  sus  nombres  en  inglés  (por  ejemplo,  Lola 


36         La  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.  UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Ulica 


Rovvers),  no  es  suficiente,  según  Ulica,  para  que  se  ias  pueda  considerar  integradas 
en  la  cultura  anglosajona. 

VII 
En  la  mayoría  de  cuadros  donde  la  posición  de  los  hombres  se  ve  amenazada 
por  la  liberación  de  las  mujeres,  Ulica  intenta  prevenir  a  aquellos  de  que  están  en 
peligro.  La  postura  del  hombre  tanto  en  el  núcleo  familiar  como  en  el  social  corre 
riesgo.  Por  lo  tanto,  en  la  mayoría  de  los  cuadros  los  hombres  se  solidarizan  y 
concluyen  que  los  Estados  Unidos  es  un  país  donde  los  hombres  están  a  punto  de 
perder  su  voz  y,  sobre  todo,  su  autoridad.  En  el  cuadro  "Arriba  las  faldas,"  Ulica 
siente  compasión  por  el  sufrimiento  del  hombre.  Ulica  atribuye  el  que  las  mujeres 
hayan  perdido  el  respeto  por  haber  adoptado  ciertas  formas  de  actuar  de  las  mujeres 
anglosajonas: 

En  este  país  hacen  lo  que  les  da  su  real  gana.  La  mía,  [la  esposa] 
que  era  obediente  tan  fiel  y  mosquita  muerta  en  Ojinaga,  aquí  se 
ha  vuelto  "de  cohetería,"  no  me  hace  caso ...  y  cuando  le  reclamo 
me  "hecha  de  la  mama".  (145) 

Este  es  un  ejemplo  del  poder  que  las  mujeres  tienen  en  este  país  y  la  pérdida  de 
control  por  parte  de  los  hombres  en  las  mujeres.  Ella  ya  no  es  la  mujer  subordinada 
y  sumisa,  ha  adquirido  ya  una  posición  donde  tiene  el  valor  de  cuestionar  y  decidir. 
A  la  vez  parece  que  Ulica  también  quiere  abogar  por  la  preservación  de  ciertas 
tradiciones  culturales  mexicanas  machistas  porque  entre  estar  sometidos  a  la  mujer 
o  al  infierno,  es  mejor  el  infierno.  Como  antes  he  mencionado,  esta  selección  de 
ensayos  se  enfoca  principalmente  en  las  mujeres,  ellas  son  las  principales 
protagonistas  porque  al  criticarlas,  Ulica  está  siguiendo  las  mismas  pautas  del 
momento  histórico  controlado  por  la  perspectiva  masculina.  De  ahí  que  concluyen 
que  si  los  hombres  casados  quieren  conservar  su  matrimonio  en  armonía  no  deben 
de  cruzar  el  Río  Bravo,  espacio  fronterizo  que  tiene  connotaciones  peligrosas: 

Porque  aquí  andan  mal  las  cosas,  muy  mal  y  el  género  masculino 
va  perdiendo,  a  pasos  agigantados  . . .  Casos  semejantes  ocurren 
a  diario,  y  nuestras  ündas  mujeres  "de  la  Raza,"  mal  llegan, 
cuando  se  enteran  de  que  aquí  mandan  ellas  y  de  que  los  maridos 
debemos  ser  mansos  de  corazón,  cortos  de  palabras  y  quietos  de 
manos.  (90-91) 

Ulica  parece  interceder  por  la  preservación  de  valores  masculinos:  mujeriegos, 
agresivos  y  violentos.  Estas  son  cualidades  que  según  Uüca  no  se  deben  perder  al 
cruzar  la  frontera. 

El  concepto  de  frontera  en  estos  cuadros  adquiere  una  característica  importante 
y  única  porque  es  lo  opuesto  a  lo  que  vemos  en  la  literatura  chicana  más  reciente^. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring  1994)  37 


En  estos  cuadros,  según  Ulica,  el  cruce  del  río,  hacia  los  Estados  Unidos,  significa 
la  deteriorización,  ruptura  o  pérdida  de  "los  buenos"  valores  tradicionales  mexicanos. 
Ulica  falla  en  reconocer  el  valor  de  este  espacio.  Según  Francisco  Lomelí,  el 
concepto  del  espacio  fronterizo:  "[E]s  el  sitio  donde  se  juntan  dos  culturas  con 
diferencias  bien  marcadas,  y  a  la  vez  donde  más  se  parecen  para  posiblemente 
constituir  una  sola  cultura"  (24). 

Ulica  no  entiende  este  concepto,  porque  para  él  era  mejor  que  mantuvieran  sus 
mismas  tradiciones.  Más  adelante,  Ulica  aconseja  al  lector  en  "Ignacia  y  Megildo" 
que  la  liberación  de  la  mujer  no  es  buena  para  el  hombre  porque  esto  cambia  la 
estructura  patriarcal.  Ulicasugiere  que:  "Y  es  mejor,  por  lo  tanto,  que  los  compatriotas 
casados  que  quieran  venir  a  Yankilandia,  dejen  a  sus  mujercitas  por  allá  en  su  tierra" 
(91-92).  Cabe  hacer  hincapié  que  las  mujeres  son  las  culpables  de  que  el  estado 
armonioso  que  los  hombres  poseen  sea  alterado  y  en  muchos  casos  interrumpido  y 
hasta  llegue  a  perderse.  Por  consiguiente,  Ulica  sugiere  evitar  introducirlas  a  este 
ambiente  "corrupto"  del  otro  lado  de  la  frontera  porque,  inmediatamente,  ellas 
quieren  adoptar  las  costumbres  anglosajonas: 

Aquí,  el  esposo  duerme  a  los  niños,  los  cambia  de  pañales,  y  los 
saca  a  paseo;  lava  la  losa,  tiende  la  ropa,  va  de  compras  con  los 
chinos  y  al  mercado:  barre  la  casa,  cambia  sábanas,  mata  las 
pulgas  y  lava  y  plancha.  De  seguir  así,  no  será  raro  que  por 
métodos  perfeccionados,  tenga  los  hijos  y  los  críe.  (147) 

Ulica,  al  momento  de  hacer  mención  de  estos  cambios  en  las  mujeres,  implica 
oposición  a  la  adquisición  de  estas  nuevas  actitudes  de  la  mujer.  Este  conjunto  de 
actitudes  implica  la  ruptura  y  pérdida  del  rol  tradicional  del  hombre.  El  hombre  es 
el  ser  privilegiado  por  naturaleza,  es  el  ser  activo  versus  la  mujer  que  usualmente 
representa  el  rol  pasivo.  Por  lo  tanto,  según  Ulica,  esta  nueva  identidad  de  la  mujer 
mexicana  en  los  Estados  Unidos  pone  en  peligro  la  condición  y  estado  del  hombre. 

VIII 
A  pesar  de  que  Julio  G.  Arce  adopta  una  posición  separatista  porque  mantiene 
su  cultura  casi  inalterada,  sus  cuadros  son  importantes  porque  representan  la  vida 
cotidiana  de  la  gente  mexicana  que  inmigra  hacia  "el  norte".  Estos  cuadros  muestran 
un  momento  histórico  de  los  pormenores  de  la  aculturación  de  los  mexicanos  en  los 
Estados  Unidos  en  los  años  1920.  Esta  recopilación  es  una  representación  de  la 
sociedad  en  transición  y  por  lo  tanto  también  tiene  el  uso  práctico  de  servir  como 
semilla  a  lo  que  se  considera  como  literatura  chicana.  Reitero  un  vez  más  que  estas 
columnas  Cr<9niCfl5Dífl¿?o7íCí3í  son  importantes  por  el  tratamiento  del  tema  colectivo 
de  un  grupo  en  estado  de  aculturación.  Esta  colección  responde  como  visión 
alternativa  a  lo  que  la  literatura  hegemónica  presenta.  Con  el  gran  incremento  de 
literaturas  étnicas,  textos  con  este  tipo  de  temática  que  se  considera  "minor 
literature"  constituyen  una  manifestación  de  lo  que  la  literatura  canónica  ha 


38        La  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.  UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Ulica 


obscurecido,  silenciado  e  ignorado  a  través  de  los  años.  De  acuerdo  a  Rosaura 
Sánchez  y  Joseph  Sonuners,  la  literatura  chicana  es  "[c]omo  una  de  las  formas 
culturales  que  ha  servido  al  pueblo  chicano,  directa  o  indirectamente,  como  toma 
de  conciencia  de  la  realidad,  como  respuesta,  a  nivel  individual  o  colectivo"  ( 42). 
Un  aspecto  más  para  agregar  al  papel  importante  de  la  literatura  chicana  es  que 
sirve  también  para  analizar  y  detectar  la  trayectoria  de  una  población  y  restaurar  a 
un  nivel  textual  la  representación  de  una  realidad  histórica:  la  existencia  de  un 
pueblo  chicano  en  los  Estados  Unidos.  La  literatura  chicana,  de  acuerdo  a  Lomelí, 
es  similar  a  la  definición  de  la  literatura  latinoamericana  según  Arturo  Uslar  Pietri: 

[N]ace  mezclada  e  impura,  e  impura  y  mezclada  alcanza  sus  más 
altas  expresiones.  No  hay  en  su  historia  nada  que  se  parezca  a  la 
ordenada  sucesión  de  escuela;  las  tendencias  y  las  épocas  que 
caracteriza,  por  ejemplo,  a  la  literatura  francesa.  En  ella  nada 
termina  y  nada  está  separado.  Todo  tiende  a  superponerse  y  a 
fundirse.  Lo  clásico  con  lo  romántico,  lo  antiguo  con  lo  moderno, 
lo  popular  con  lo  refinado,  lo  tradicional  con  lo  mágico,  lo 
tradicional  con  lo  exótico.  Su  curso  es  como  el  de  un  río,  que 
acumula  y  arrastra  aguas,  troncos,  cuerpos  y  hojas  de  infinitas 
procedencias.  Es  aluvial.  (10) 

Es  obvio  que  la  literatura  chicana  ha  tenido  escasa  diseminación  en  el  pasado  pero 
poco  a  poco  se  han  estado  rompiendo  esas  barreras  estereotípicas. 

IX 
Julio  G.  Arce  muere  en  1926  en  la  ciudad  de  San  Francisco  y  nunca  regresa  a 
su  país  natal.  Muere  desconociendo  la  herencia  tan  valiosa  que  nos  dejó  con  la 
publicación  de  sus  "Crónicas  Diabólicas."  Con  el  afán  de  ridiculizar  a  la  mujer 
mexicana  en  transición,  nos  presenta  el  momento  socio-histórico  del  momento  y  la 
formación  de  la  concientización  de  la  mujer  chicana:  la  lucha,  el  sufrimiento, 
humillaciones,  y  degradaciones  que  tuvieron  que  pasar  al  intentar  lograr  un  espacio 
y  un  reconocimiento  como  mujeres  y  no  como  objetos.  Además  las  actividades  de 
los  personajes  nos  ofrecen  una  perspectiva  múltiple  de  la  realidad  que  va  más  allá 
de  lo  que  la  historia  nos  puede  brindar. 

Eleuteria  Hernández 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring  1994)  39 


NOTAS 


^  La  bibliografia  de  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  es  muy  limitada  y  ninguno  de  los  artículos 

analiza  el  papel  brillante  de  la  mujer  mexicana  durante  el  proceso  de  aculturación.  En  cuanto 

a  los  artículos  que  analizan  algunas  crónicas  donde  la  mujer  es  la  protagonista,  no  ven,  ni 

reconocen  la  lucha  y  la  victoria  de  ella.  Por  lo  tanto  este  artículo  intenta  abrir  otra  vertiente 

a  esta  colección. 

^  Es  importante  no  ignorar  otras  obras  seminales,  por  ejemplo  Las  aventuras  de  don  Chipote 

o  Cuando  los  pericos  mamen  de  Daniel  Venegas,  novela  publicada  en  1928  en  El  Heraldo 

de  México  de  Lx)s  Angeles,  California.  Estas  contienen  un  sincretismo  cultural,  revelan  la 

formación  y  estructura  social  y  tratan  de  la  problemática  de  aculturación.  Estas  obras  poseen 

un  estilo  que  abre  las  puertas  a  una  temática  nueva. 

•^  El  primer  periódico  que  apareció  en  español  fue  en  Nueva  Orleans  bajo  el  título  de  El 

Misisipi  en  1808.  Para  mayor  información  consultar  el  artículo  de  Gutiérrez. 

^  Consultar  el  excelente  artículo  de  Charles  Tatum  en  el  cual  menciona  a  los  más  importantes 

escritores  como  Benjamín  Padilla  "Kaskabel". 

^  Ver  el  estudio  de  E.V.  Niemeyer,  Jr. 

"  En  textos  recientes  de  üteratura  chicana,  el  personaje  cruza  el  río  Bravo,  o  la  "frontera"  pero 

en  sentido  opuesto;  de  los  EE.  UU.  hacia  México,  en  busca  de  estrechar  o  reforzar  más  los 

lazos  de  identidad  perdidos  o  ignorados  con  la  tierra,  México.  Entre  los  escritores  más 

predominantes  se  encuentran,  por  ejemplo,  Cherríe  Moraga,  Osear  Zeta  Acosta,  Sandra 

Cisneros,  Richard  Rodríguez  y  Arturo  Islas. 


OBRAS  CITADAS 

Cortés,  Carlos  E.  "The  Mexican-American  Press."  The  Ethnic  Press  in  the  United  States :  A 

Historical  Analysis  and  Handbook.  Ed.  SaUy  M.  Miller.  Greenwood  Press:  New 

York,  1987.  247-60. 
Gutiérrez,  Félix.  "175th  Anniversary  of  Spanish  Language  Media  in  the  United  States." 

Caminos  5.\  (Jan  1984):10-13. 
Lawhn,  Juanita,  "Victorian  Attitudes  Af  fecting  the  Mexican  Woman  Writing  in  La  Prensa 

Duríng  the  Early  1900's  and  the  Chicana  of  the  1980's."  Missions  in  Conflict: 

Essays  on  United  States -Mexican  Relations  and  Chicano  Culture.  Ed.  Juan  Bruce 

Novoa.  Tübingen:  Narr,  1986.  65-71. 
Lomas,  Clara.  "Resistencia  Cultural  o  Apropiación  Ideológica:  Visión  de  los  Años  20  en  los 

Cuadros  Costumbristas  de  Jorge  Ulica."  Revista  Chicano-Riqueña  6.4  ( 1978): 44- 

49. 
Lomelí,  Francisco  A.  "En  tomo  a  la  literatura  chicana,  ¿convergencia  o  divergencia?"  La 

comunidad  274  (octubre  20,  1985):8-11. 
Niemeyer,  Jr.,  E.V.  Revolution  at  Queretaro:  The  Mexican  Cosíitution  Convention  ofl916- 

1917.  Austin:  University  of  Texas  Press,  1974. 
Ríos,  Herminio  y  Guadalupe  Castillo.  'Toward  a  True  Chicano  Bibliography:  Mexican- 

Amerícan  Newspapers:  1848-1942."  El  Grito.  A  Journal  of  Contemporary  Mexi- 


40         La  mujer  mexicana  en  los  EE.UU.  en  las  Crónicas  Diabólicas  de  Ulica 


can-American  Thought.  3  (1970):17-24  y  5  (1972):40-47. 
Sánchez,  Rosaura  y  Joseph  Sommers.  "Problemas  ideológicos  en  el  desarrollo  de  la  literatura 

chicana."  Revista  Chicano -Riqueña  6.4  (1978):42-43. 
Tatum,  Charles.  "Some  Examples  of  Chicano  Prose  Fiction  of  the  Nineteenth  and  Early 

Twentieth  Centuries."  Revista  Chicano -Riqueña  9.1  (1981):58-67. 
Ulica,  Jorge,  Crónicas  Diabólicas.  Comp.  Juan  Rodríguez.  San  Diego:  Maize  Press,  1982. 
Venegas,  Daniel.  Las  aventuras  de  don  Chipote  o  Cuando  los  pericos  mamen.  México: 

Consejo  Nacional  de  Fomento  Educativo,  1984. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  41 


Literatura  fronteriza  tejana: 

El  compromiso  con  la  historia  en  Américo 

Paredes,  Rolando  Hinojosa 

y  Gloria  Anzaldúa* 


La  palabra  frontera  casi  siempre  se  ve  asociada  a  una  situación 
histórica  o  cultural  concreta.  En  España,  frontera  significó  la 
lucha  física  enü^e  moros  y  cristianos.  Ese  concepto  de  frontera  se 
extendió  a  México  y  otros  países  de  América. 

Luis  Leal,  Aztlán  y  México 

La  frontera  tejana  del  Río  Grande  es  una  zona  geográfica  cuya  fisononu'a 
natural  e  historia  le  otorgaron  sus  propios  hábitos  y  costumbres.  Como  en  otras  áreas 
de  Hispanoamérica,  en  esta  región  fértil  se  llevó  a  cabo  la  colonización  española. 
Con  el  tiempo,  surgió  una  auténtica  cultura  hispanoamericana,  la  tejano-mexicana, 
la  cual  perdura  hasta  nuestra  época  contemporánea,  aun  después  de  que  el  Río 
Grande  se  convirtiera  en  una  barrera,  en  un  espacio  de  conflicto  cultural  y 
lingüístico.  Sin  embargo,  no  es  hasta  décadas  recientes  que  ese  pueblo,  desconocido 
tanto  para  el  mundo  hispano  como  para  el  angloamericano,  recupera  su  historia  de 
desplazamiento  y  resistencia  con  la  literatura  que  surge  en  el  siglo  XX.  Quisiera 
trazar  las  huellas  de  las  ti"ansformaciones  histórico-culturales  sufridas  por  el  pueblo 
chicano-tejano,  desde  el  siglo  XVIII  hasta  la  década  de  los  ochenta,  a  través  de  tres 
autores  del  valle  del  Río  Grande. 

En  otra  ocasión  terminé  un  ensayo  sobre  Generaciones  y  semblanzas  (1977) 
concluyendo  que,  a  partir  de  los  primeros  übros  de  su  historia  fragmentaria  del 
condado  mítico  de  Belken,  en  Tejas,  Rolando  Hinojosa  quería  afirmar  el  carácter 
colectivo  de  un  grupo  social  formado  en  oposición  a  la  dominación  angloamericana 
y  sin  modificación  hegemónica  por  la  ideología  individualista  estadounidense 
("Chronicle,  Biography  and  Sketch").  Aunque  sus  personajes/narradores,  Rafa 


42  Literatura  fronteriza  tejana 


Buenrostro  y  Jehú  Malacara,  habían  sufrido  un  proceso  de  "americanización" — me 
refiero  a  la  educación  primaria  y  secundaria  en  inglés,  ejército  en  Corea  y 
universidad  en  Austin — ellos  seguían  siendo  mexicanos.  A  diferencia  de  otros 
libros  del  período  contemporáneo  chicano,  en  ningún  momento  de  esta  obra  se 
desarrollaba  la  trama  para  cuestionar  o  buscar  una  identidad  mexicana-chicana.  O 
sea,  según  las  circunstancias  históricas,  el  conflicto  de  culturas  en  Tejas  y  el  racismo 
institucionalizado  contra  el  mexicano,  estos  personajes  ya  sabían  quiénes  eran.  Me 
pareció,  además,  que  las  combinaciones  de  forma  y  contenido,  de  trama  y 
caracterización,  que  Hinojosa  logró  con  las  formas  narrativas  de  la  estampa,  la 
semblanza  y  el  cronicón,  y  aun  los  títulos  Generaciones  y  semblanzas  y  Claros 
varones  de  Belken  confirmaban  de  una  manera  muy  hispana,  la  supervivencia  de  esa 
cultura  autóctona  tejano-mexicana. 

En  esta  ocasión  quisiera  retomar  las  brechas  abandonadas  en  Generaciones, 
seguir  unas  nuevas  en  Claros  varones  de  Belken  (1986)  y  leer  la  obra  de  Hinojosa 
a  la  luz  de  la  labor  intelectual  original  de  Américo  Paredes  y  Gloria  Anzaldúa.  Si 
el  escritor-folklorista  Paredes  en  su  estudio  "  W/7/i  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand  ":  A  Border 
Bailad  and  Its  Hero  (1958)  reconstruye  el  período  épico  guerrero  a  través  de  "El 
Corrido  de  Gregorio  Cortez",  Hinojosa  será  el  cronista  de  la  época  bajo  dominación. 
Los  primeros  tres  libros  de  Hinojosa,  Estampas  del  valle  (1973),  Generaciones  y 
Claros  varones,  escritos  en  español,  son  el  cronicón  del  condado  de  Belken  cuyo  eje 
históricoesladesaparición  de  la culturarancheramexicana.  En  su  hbro autobiográfico 
Borderlands,  La  Frontera:  The  New  Mestiza  (1987),  Gloria  Anzaldúa  regresa  a  su 
cultura  tejano-mexicana  estudiando  los  mismos  temas  de  Paredes  e  Hinojosa  pero 
ahora  acentuando  el  papel  de  la  mujer  del  Tercer  Mundo  en  el  mundo  contemporáneo 
de  la  frontera. 

n 

The  Lower  Río  Grande  Border  is  the  área  lying  along  the  river, 
from  its  mouth  to  the  two  Laredos.  A  map,  especially  one  made 
some  thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  would  show  a  clustering  of  towns 
and  villages  along  both  banks,  with  lonely  gaps  to  the  north  and 
to  the  south.  This  was  the  heart  of  the  oíd  Spanish  province  of 
Nuevo  Santander,  colonized  in  1749  by  José  de  Escandón. 

Américo  Paredes,  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand" 

En  un  discurso  patrocinado  por  la  Hispanic  Society  of  America,  en  la  Universidad 
de  Columbia,  Nueva  York,  en  abril  de  1909,  el  erudito  español  Ramón  Menéndez 
Pidal  lamentó  el  hecho  de  que  el  romance  español  no  hubiera  encontrado  terreno 
fértil  en  el  Nuevo  Mundo  (50-51).  Aunque  las  grandes  hazañas  históricas  de 
descubrimiento  y  conquista  habían  ocurrido  durante  la  popularidad  del  romancero 
español,  el  siglo  XVI  ya  no  era  un  período  creativo  para  esta  canción  popular.  No 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii.  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  43 


sabia  Menéndez  Pidal  que  unos  cuantos  meses  después  de  su  discurso  empezaría, 
con  la  actividad  política  de  Francisco  I.  Madero,  un  período  heroico  que  daría  a  luz 
el  corrido  de  la  Revolución  Mexicana,  y  tampoco  sabía  que  el  corrido  mexicano, 
este  romance  americano,  era  a  su  vez  retoño  de  una  tradición  floreciente  a  lo  largo 
de  las  dos  riberas  del  Río  Grande  desde  mediados  del  siglo  XIX.  Fue  la  labor  de 
Américo  Paredes  en  su  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand"  que  rescató  el  corrido 
fronterizo  del  abandono  para  su  estudio  dentro  del  mundo  académico  angloamericano. 
Y  para  explicar  este  fenómeno  artístico,  Paredes  se  vio  obligado  a  dirigir  su  genio 
creativo  hacia  el  pasado  y  reconstruir  la  cultura  ranchera  de  la  provincia  española 
de  Nuevo  Santander,  e,  irónicamente,  recibió  apoyo  en  este  esfuerzo  por  situar  el 
corrido  dentro  de  su  contexto  cultural  de  estudios  españoles,  especialmente,  de  los 
estudios  culturales  y  literarios  de  Menéndez  Pidal. 

Américo  Paredes  es,  tal  vez,  la  figura  más  importante  de  los  estudios  culturales 
chícanos.  Nació  en  la  frontera,  en  Brownsville  en  1915,  fecha  importante  que  marca 
la  última  rebelión  armada  de  méxico-tejanos  contra  angloamericanos.  En  una 
entrevista  personal.  Paredes  me  explicó  que  podía  trazar  su  linaje  en  el  norte  de 
México,  en  el  estado  de  Tamaulipas,  desde  1580  con  el  adelantado  Carbajal  y  a  lo 
largo  del  Río  Bravo  en  Camargo  y  Mier  desde  la  colonización  de  Nuevo  Santander 
con  José  de  Escandón  en  1749.  ^  Se  educó  en  ambos  lados  de  la  frontera,  asistiendo 
a  escuelas  en  Brownsville — escuela  primaria  y  secundaria  y  Brownsville  Júnior 
College  en  1936 — y  veraneando  con  familiares  en  ranchos  mexicanos  cerca  de 
Matamoros,  Tamaulipas.  Gran  lector  de  sus  dos  tradiciones  literarias,  la 
angloamericana  y  la  latinoamericana,  siempre  había  deseado  seguir  una  carrera  en 
las  letras,  ser  escritor  y,  tal  vez,  profesor  en  la  Universidad  de  Tejas,  Austin.  Pero 
en  esa  época  sólo  llegó  a  terminar  dos  años  en  Brownsville  Júnior  College  aunque 
sí  inició  una  carrera  de  escritor  y  periodista  escribiendo  para  el  Brownsville  Herald, 
La  Prensa  de  San  Antonio  y  El  Regional  de  Matamoros.  Durante  la  Segunda  Guerra 
Mundial  sirvió  en  el  Pacífico  en  el  ejército  de  los  Estados  Unidos  como  periodista 
para  el  Stars  and St ripes  de  las  fuerzas  armadas.  Un  evento  que  contribuyó  a  su  tesis 
doctoral  "El  Corrido  de  Gregorio  Cortez:  A  Bailad  of  Border  Conflict"  fue  su 
reportaje  de  los  procesos  judiciales  contra  los  japoneses.^  Su  tesis  debe  leerse  como 
un  examen  judicial  de  una  causa  criminal  para  pronunciar  sentencia.  Como  me 
indicó  en  nuestra  entrevista,  "I  wanted  to  prepare  a  brief  on  behalf  of  my  people." 
Así,  su  tesis  publicada  en  1958  con  el  título  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand"  es  un 
análisis  de  la  propaganda  anglo-tejana — el  racismo  institucionalizado  por  el 
historiador  WalterPrescottWebby  el  folkoristaJ.FrankDobie — como  justificación 
de  la  guerra  imperialista  contra  México  y  méxico-tejanos.^ 

Desde  1958  ha  tenido  una  carrera  distinguida  como  investigador  y  profesor  en 
los  departamentos  de  Antropología  e  Inglés  en  la  Universidad  de  Tejas,  Austin.  En 
Austin,  estableció  los  Archivos  de  Folklore,  el  Programa  en  Folklore  y  el  Centro  de 
Estudios  México-Americanos.  Recientemente  jubilado,  ha  recibido  numerosos 
elogios.  En  1989,  al  inaugurarse  el  prestigioso  Charles  Frankel  Prize  de  la  National 
Endowment  for  the  Humanities  otorgado  por  "lifelong  achievement  in  the  Humani- 


44  Literatura  fronteriza  tejaría 


tíes",  Paredes  fue  uno  de  cinco  que  recibió  este  honor.  Y  en  1991,  Paredes,  Julián 
Samora  y  César  Chávez  fueron  los  primeros  méxico-americanos  a  recibir  la  Orden 
del  Águila  Azteca,  el  máximo  honor  de  la  República  Mexicana,  por  sus  esfuerzos 
por  los  derechos  humanos  de  mexicanos  y  por  la  preservación  de  la  cultura 
mexicana  en  los  Estados  Unidos. 

Después  de  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand",  Paredes  tradujo,  editó  y  publicó  más 
de  noventa  reseñas,  artículos  y  übros  sobre  el  folklore  hispanoamericano  y  la  cultura 
mexicana  en  los  Estados  Unidos.  Entre  sus  publicaciones  más  significativas  se 
encuentran:  "El  folklore  de  los  grupos  de  origen  mexicano  en  los  Estados  Unidos" 
(1964),  'T)ivergencias  en  el  concepto  del  folklore  y  el  contexto  cultural"  (1967), 
"Folk  Medicine  and  the  Intercultural  Jest"  (1968),  Folktales  of  México  (1970), 
Toward  New  Perspectives  in  Folklore  (1972),  A  Texas-Mexican  Cancionero: 
Folksongs  ofthe  Lower  Border  (1976),  "On  Ethnographic  Work  among  Minority 
Groups:  A  Folklorist's  Perspective"  (1977)  y  Folklore  and  Culture  on  the  Texas- 
Mexican  Border  (1993).  Y  como  hemos  descubierto  recientemente  también  fue  uno 
de  los  primeros  escritores  chícanos.  Su  novela  George  Washington  Gómez:  A 
Mexico-Texan  Novel  escrita  entre  1935  y  1940  fue  publicada  en  1990  y  una 
colección  de  poesía,  Between  Two  Worlds,  con  poemas  fechados  cuando  Paredes 
todavía  estaba  en  la  escuela  secundaria  fue  pubUcada  en  1991.^  Además,  dos 
colecciones  de  cuentos.  Únele  Remus  con  chile  (1993)  y  The  Hammon  and  the 
Beans  and  Other  Stories  (1994),  acaban  de  publicarse.  Todo  su  frabajo  demuestra 
una  madurez  intelectual  y  política  desde  sus  poemas  en  inglés  en  verso  vanguardista 
como  "Guitarreros"  de  1935  (Between  Two  Worlds  29)  y  sonetos  en  español  como 
"A  César  Augusto  Sandino"  de  1939  (Between  Two  Worlds  53)  que  escribió  en 
solidaridad  con  el  movimiento  de  liberación  nicaragüense  hasta  sus  ensayos  más 
recientes  sobre  folkore  fronterizo.  Si  comparamos  su  producción  con  la  tradición 
latinoamericana,  Paredes  escribe  una  novela  y  pubüca  poesía  con  temática  semejante 
a  sus  contemporáneos  Pablo  Neruda,  César  Vallejo  y  Nicolás  Guillen,  luego  sus 
estudios  del  folklore  en  los  primeros  años  de  la  década  de  los  cincuenta  que  culmina 
con  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand"  son  semejantes  a  la  ficción  de  Juan  Rulfo  y 
anticipadores  del  "Boom"  en  la  medida  que  Paredes  recupera  la  tradición  oral  para 
compararla  con  el  registro  oficial  y  anaüza  el  colonialismo  en  las  Américas,  y  en  la 
década  de  los  noventa  pubüca  estudios  folklóricos  que  bien  caben  dentro  de  una 
postmodemidad  americana.  Paredes  ha  tenido  una  carrera  extraordinaria  que  abarca 
casi  todo  el  siglo  XX. 

Es  difícil  describir  "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand":  A  Border  Bailad  and  Its 
Hero.  Es  híbrido,  borrando  las  fronteras  entre  discipUnas:  es  parte  antropología, 
folklore,  historia  y  ficción.  Aunque  es  el  resultado  de  un  estudio  académico,  una 
tesis  doctoral  presentada  en  1956  al  Departamento  de  Inglés  en  la  Universidad  de 
Tejas,  Austin,  los  lectores  quedarán  asombrados  por  la  auto-reflexividad  de  su 
forma.  Como  el  subtítulo  anuncia,  el  hbro  es  un  estudio  de  un  corrido  y  su  héroe. 
Para  cumplir  este  propósito.  Paredes  escribió  una  Segunda  Parte,  "£/  Corrido  de 
Gregorio  Cortez,  aBalladof  BorderConflict",  identificando  variantes  y  estableciendo 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  45 


una  teoria  de  génesis  y  decadencia  para  el  corrido  fronterizo.  Sin  embargo,  esta 
sección  sirve  de  complemento  académico  a  las  secciones  polémicas  y  narrativas  de 
la  Primera  Parte,  "Gregorio  Cortez,  the  Legend  and  the  Life",  en  la  cual  Paredes 
reconstruye  el  mundo  histórico-social  de  Gregorio  Cortez. 

El  primer  capítulo  del  libro,  "The  Country",  es  un  recuento  de  la  colonización 
española  por  José  de  Escandón  en  1749  y  una  reconstrucción  de  la  organización  de 
vida  social  que  surgió  a  lo  largo  del  estrecho  fértil  del  río  en  aislamiento  de  los 
gobiernos  de  México  y  de  los  Estados  Unidos.  Hacia  1755,  los  pueblos  de  Laredo, 
Guerrero,  Mier,  Camargo  y  Reynosa  habían  sido  organizados  en  las  dos  riberas  del 
Río  Grande;  don  Blas  de  María  Falcón,  el  fundador  de  Camargo,  había  establecido 
el  rancho  de  la  Petronila  en  la  desembocadura  del  Río  Nueces,  hoy  cerca  de  la  ciudad 
de  Corpus  Christi.  Para  1835,  unos  tres  millones  de  ganado  se  encontraban  en  la 
zona  Río  Grande-Nueces.  Según  Paredes,  si  el  expansionismo  anglo-tejano  no 
hubiera  alcanzado  los  pueblos  del  Río  Grande,  una  autóctona  cultura  mestiza 
hispanoamericana  hubiera  continuado  desarrollándose,  organizada  en  su  base 
económica  por  el  rancho  y  al  nivel  ideológico  por  los  ideales  hispanos  de  la 
caballería.  A  diferencia  de  oti^as  empresas  colonizadoras  españolas  en  California  y 
Nuevo  México  basadas  en  las  instituciones  del  presidio,  la  misión  y  la  encomienda, 
en  el  valle  del  Río  Grande,  las  entidades  económicas  importantes  eran  el  rancho  y 
el  pueblo  rural  y  la  estructura  social  era  la  familia  o  el  clan.  Con  sucesivas 
generaciones,  los  ranchos  llegaron  a  formar  feudos  hereditarios,  parcelas  distribuidas 
entre  los  descendientes  del  dueño  original.  En  estas  áreas  rurales,  el  padre  o  el 
primogénito  era  la  suma  autoridad,  ejerciendo  más  poder  que  el  estado  o  la  iglesia. 
La  obediencia  al  padre  o  al  hermano  mayor  dependía  de  tradición  y  educación.  Estas 
características  familiares  fortalecieron  las  comunidades,  con  virtiéndolas  en  entidades 
auto-suficientes,  estimulando  faenas  y  diversiones  comunitarias  y  reduciendo  al 
mínimo  la  intervención  del  gringo  del  norte  o  del  fuereño  del  sur.  Esta  cultura 
ranchera  mexicana,  aclara  Paredes,  es  el  origen  de  los  mitos  culturales  óeX  American 
West  y  del  American  cowboy;  las  innovaciones  tecnológicas  que  la  cultura 
angloamericana  contribuyó  en  el  sur  de  Tejas  fueron  el  revólver,  el  alambre  de  púas 
y  los  abogados  {Folklore  and  Culture  20). 

Es  obvio  que  esta  visión  particular  de  la  cultura  ranchera  lejana  de  Paredes  es 
semejante  a  otros  patriarcados  rurales  que  se  establecieron  en  otras  zonas 
hispanoamericanas,  todos  productos  de  las  fuerzas  históricas  de  descubrimiento, 
conquista  y  colonización.  Es  este  patriarcado  ranchero  con  sus  características 
feudales  españolas  que  Rolando  Hinojosa  tomará  como  base  de  su  mundo  ficticio 
en  Generaciones  y  Claros  varones  en  el  pen'odo  chicano. 

Según  Paredes,  hacia  1835  la  vieja  provincia  de  Nuevo  Santander  contaba  con 
unos  cien  años  de  aislamiento  y  prosperidad  cuando  la  guerra  en  Tejas  empezó  un 
período  de  lucha  armada.  La  Repúbüca  de  Tejas  se  formó  en  1836  debido  a  la 
rebelión  angloamericana  y  las  guerras  civiles  de  la  joven  nación  mexicana.  Los 
pueblos  a  lo  largo  del  Río  Grande  se  mantuvieron  mexicanos  ya  que  el  Río  Nueces 
al  norte  formaba  la  frontera  entre  Tejas  y  México.  Pero  la  paz  duró  sólo  una  década 


46  Literatura  fronteriza  tejana 


hasta  1846.  Desde  su  origen  cerca  de  Taos  y  Santa  Fe,  Nuevo  México,  hasta  su 
desembocadura  en  el  Golfo  de  México,  el  Río  Grande  con  su  puerto  de  Brazos 
Santiago  en  la  ribera  norte  ofrecía  a  angloamericanos  una  oportunidad  para 
controlar  la  economía  del  norte  de  México.  Después  de  la  guerra  de  los  Estados 
Unidos  contra  México,  con  el  tratado  de  Guadalupe  Hidalgo  en  1 848,  el  río  dejó  de 
ser  un  punto  de  enlace  entre  las  dos  riberas,  convirtiéndose  en  una  zona  de  conflicto 
y  resistencia,  separando  el  futuro  Brownsville  (Brazos  Santiago)  en  el  norte  de 
Matamoros,  Tamaulipas  en  el  sur.  En  1958  a  la  edad  de  41  años.  Paredes  escribe 
francamente  lo  que  no  pudo  publicar  en  su  adolescencia:  "[a]  restless  and  acquisi- 
tive  people,  exercising  the  rights  of  conquest,  disturbed  the  oíd  ways"  (15).  Si 
tomamos  en  cuenta  que  la  fecha  de  1492  marca  el  inicio  del  expansionismo  español 
en  América,  de  igual  importancia  para  el  pueblo  chicano  es  el  año  de  1 836  que  señala 
el  comienzo  del  expansionismo  angloamericano  en  Hispanoamérica,  conflicto  que 
perdura  hasta  nuestros  días,  creando  las  relaciones  políticas  y  económicas  entre 
Primer  y  Tercer  Mundo  a  lo  largo  del  mundo  fronterizo  contemporáneo,  el  cual 
Gloria  Anzaldúa  enfocará  en  la  década  de  los  ochenta.  Como  bien  señala  Paredes, 
hacia  mediados  del  siglo  XIX,  la  comunidad  mexicana  de  Tejas,  de  pronto,  se 
encontraba  en  la  encrucijada  de  dos  historias  y  dos  culturas. 

De  esta  sociedad  surgieron  héroes  populares  cuyas  hazañas  se  cantaban  en 
corridos.  El  Capítulo  2  de  esta  Primera  Parte  presenta  la  leyenda  de  un  héroe, 
Gregorio  Cortez,  quien  en  1901  mató  a  un  cherife  anglo-tejano  defendiendo  su 
derecho  con  su  pistola  en  la  mano.  En  este  capítulo  imaginativo,  "The  Legend,"  el 
antropólogo-historiador  Paredes  desaparece,  dejando  que  la  voz  anónima  del 
pueblo  en  tercera  personal  plural,  'Uhey",  hable  por  él,  y  reconstruyendo  las  acciones 
heroicas  de  Cortez  en  breves  estampas.  Situando  su  recuento  de  noche,  cuando  los 
hombres  se  reúnen  para  contar  la  leyenda  y  cantar  el  corrido  en  la  cantina  o  el  rancho, 
el  erudito  Paredes  asume  la  postura  de  un  narrador  al  servicio  de  los  intereses  de  su 
comunidad.  A  diferencia  de  Aurelio  M.  Espinosa,  el  influyente  hispanista  méxico- 
americano  de  las  primeras  décadas  del  siglo  XX,  Paredes  no  quiso  presentar  el 
folklore  de  su  grupo  social  como  si  fuera  un  objeto  de  museo,  un  vestigio  de  la 
grandeza  española  en  el  suroeste,  la  edad  de  oro  de  "oíd  Spain  in  our  Southwest" 
inventada  por  los  anglos.  Su  estrategia  narrativa,  matizada  con  choteo  mexicano 
dirigido  a  los  anglos,  le  permite  establecer  la  importancia  política  de  Cortez,  quien 
asume  en  la  imaginación  colectiva  la  expresión  de  la  justicia.  Cortez  es  el  ranchero 
pacífico  que  se  convierte  en  figura  heroica  porque  como  dice  el  corrido  "la  defensa 
es  permetida".  En  el  siguiente  capítulo,  "The  Man",  Paredes  asume  la  postura  de 
biógrafo  narrando  la  vida  de  Cortez  durante  los  años  de  1901  a  1905,  separando  los 
hechos  de  la  leyenda,  por  medio  de  testigos,  periódicos  y  documentos  de  los  cinco 
procesos  legales  contra  Cortez  (hechos  llevados  a  la  pantalla  en  la  película,  The 
Bailad  of  Gregorio  Cortez  de  1983). 

Otros  héroes  precedieron  y  siguieron  a  Cortez:  Juan  Nepomuceno  Cortina,  el 
dueño  del  Rancho  del  Carmen  cerca  de  Brownsville,  quien  en  1859  fue  líder  de  la 
primera  rebelión  mexicana  en  conü^a  de  las  autoridades  angloamericanos;  Catarino 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  <ÍVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  47 


Garza  de  Brownsville-Matamoros  quien,  en  1 890,  fue  tal  vez  el  primero  a  levantarse 
en  contra  de  Porfirio  Díaz;  y  Aniceto  Pizaña  de  los  "sediciosos"  cuyas  hazañas  en 
1915  ocasionaron  conflicto  armado  entre  mexicanos  y  rinches  (los  Texas  Ranger s). 
Según  Paredes,  este  período  de  conflicto  fronterizo  terminó  con  la  desaparición  de 
la  cultura  ranchera  cuando  ambos  lados  de  la  frontera  dejaron  de  concebirse  como 
un  mundo  aparte.  Hacia  1930  en  México,  la  presidencia  de  Lázaro  Cárdenas  acabó 
con  los  feudos  hereditarios  y  hacia  1940  en  Tejas  el  modo  de  producción  de  la  región 
fue  transformado  de  la  ranchería  agropecuaria  a  la  empresa  agrícola  capitalista.  La 
fisonomía  de  la  tierra  cambió  convirtiéndose,  primero,  en  grandes  expansiones 
algodoneras  y,  luego,  en  plantaciones  de  naranjos  y  toronjos. 

En  la  Segunda  Parte  de  su  estudio,  el  folklorista  Paredes  teoriza  un  siglo  de 
corridos  fronterizos,  desde  1836  hacia  la  década  de  los  treinta  del  siglo  XX.  Hacia 
mediados  del  siglo  XIX,  las  formas  artísticas  españolas,  el  romance,  la  décima,  y  la 
copla  o  verso,  debieron  convertirse  en  el  corrido  fronterizo.  La  tradición  española 
se  desarrolló  hacia  una  forma  predominante,  el  corrido,  hacia  un  tema,  el  conflicto 
fronterizo,  hacia  un  concepto  del  héroe,  el  valiente  que  lucha  por  sus  derechos  con 
su  pistola  en  la  mano.  Y  "El  Corrido  de  Gregorio  Cortez",  en  particular,  cantado  por 
primera  vez  por  guitarreros  hacia  1901  sirvió  la  función  de  la  épica  medieval,  el 
cumplimiento  de  los  deseos  de  la  comunidad  expresados  por  su  héroe  injustamente 
culpado  por  las  autoridades  anglo-lejanas.  Paredes  hace  hincapié  en  los  paralelos 
entre  la  ranchería  tejano-mexicana  y  el  Medioevo  europeo.  Como  las  sociedades 
medievales,  el  valle  del  Río  Grande  se  componía  de  pequeñas  entidades  sociales 
aisladas  de  las  corrientes  históricas  modernas,  donde  florecía  como  en  la  España 
medieval  un  espíritu  democrático  del  pueblo,  donde  se  mantenía  por  la  oralidad 
narraciones  tradicionales  hispanas.  Cito  el  resumen  de  Paredes: 

Here  is  balladry,  resembling  in  many  aspects  that  of  medieval 
Europe,  which  developed  partly  in  the  twentieth  century,  ... 
Though  it  flourished  independently  of  newspapers  and  other 
written  material,  it  existed  side  by  side  with  them,  allowing  many 
opportunites  for  a  comparison  of  written  records  and  oral  tradi- 
tion...  Gregorio  Cortez  and  the  bailad  tradition  it  represen ts  offer 
some  living  evidence  conceming  points  that  have  been  discussed 
by  scholars  in  relation  to  the  balladries  of  the  past.  One  sees  the 
effect  of  social  conditions  in  the  development  of  the  balladry  of 
the  Lower  Border.  A  type  of  society  similar  to  that  of  the 
European  folk  groups  of  the  Middle  Ages  produced  a  balladry 
similar  to  that  of  medieval  Europe.  The  importance  of  border 
conflict  in  the  development  of  heroic  balladry  is  also  illustrated. 
(244-45) 

La  homogeneidad  cultural,  el  aislamiento  y  el  patriarcado  hicieron  posible  la 
existencia  de  la  tradición  oral  del  corrido.  Así  como  los  romances  fronterizos 


48  Literatura  fronteriza  tejana 


españoles  surgieron  de  las  guerras  entre  moros  y  cristianos,  el  conflicto  entre 
culturas  en  el  Río  Grande  dio  a  luz  el  corrido  fronterizo  de  Gregorio  Cortez. 

Ahora  bien,  esta  transcripción  de  la  oralidad,  como  observa  Ramón  Saldívar, 
puede  concebirse  fundadora  de  una  tradición  tejano-mexicana:  "Dr.  Paredes' s 
study  of  the  corridos,  the  border  ballads,  conceming  Gregorio  Cortez  may  be  said 
to  have  invented  the  very  possibility  of  a  narrative  community,  a  complete  and 
legitímate  Texas-Mexicanper^omz,  whose  life  of  struggle  and  discord  was  worthy 
of  being  told"  ("Fonn  of  Texas-Mexican  Fiction"  139).  Sin  duda,  en  el  futuro,  este 
estudio  heterogéneo  asumirá  igual  importancia  para  la  tradición  literaria  tejano- 
mexicana  como  el  Facundo  de  Domingo  Faustino  Sarmiento  para  la  literatura 
hispanoamericana  o  La  España  del  Cid  de  Menéndez  Pidal  para  España.  Como 
Sarmiento,  Paredes  estudia  la  organización  social  que  se  formó  dentro  de  la 
naturaleza  americana  e  inventa  una  figura  con  proporciones  nacionales  para 
combatir  el  enemigo  político.  El  título  de  la  obra  es  combativo,  "con  su  pistola  en 
la  mano";  aunque  tomado  de  una  frase  formulaica  del  corrido  fronterizo,  también 
iba  dirigido  al  historiador  racista  Walter  Prescott  Webb  quien  había  contribuido  a 
la  imagen  negativa  del  mexicano  y  creado  la  leyenda  gloriosa  de  los  Texas  Rangers 
en  su  The  Texas  Rangers:  A  Century  of  Frontier  Defense  (1935),  übro  escrito 
originalmente  como  una  tesis  de  maestría.^  Y  como  Menéndez  Pidal,  Paredes 
escribe  un  estudio  académico  de  la  tradición  oral,  separando  historia  de  leyenda  para 
crear  un  héroe  nacional. 

Señalando  futuros  caminos  para  autores  chícanos,  el  libro  de  Paredes  también 
es  una  síntesis  de  dos  tradiciones.  Según  la  bibliografía  presentada  en  su  libro,  leyó 
estudios  de  antropología,  folklore  e  historia  necesarios  para  una  tesis  doctoral  de  la 
década  de  los  cincuenta  en  un  departamento  de  inglés:  Cuide  to  Life  and Literature 
ofthe  Southwest  (1952)  de  J.  Frank  Dobie;  The  Texas  Rangers  in  the  Mexican  War 
(1920),  Die  Great  Plains  (1931)  y  The  Texas  Rangers  (1935)  de  Walter  Prescott 
Webb;  Cowboy  Songs  and  Other  Frontier  Ballads  (1938)  de  John  y  Alan  Lomax; 
Motif-Index  ofFolk  Literature  (1932-33)  y  The  Folktale  (1946)  de  Stith  Thompson; 
y  Tlie  Golden  Bough  (1951)  de  Sir  James  Frazier.  Pero  Paredes  también  consultó 
los  estudios  de  hispanistas:  Romancero  general  (1851-54)  de  Agustín  Duran; 
Rotnancero  nuevornejicano  (1915-17)  y  El  romancero  español  (1931)  de  Aurelio 
M.  Espinosa;  El  romance  español  y  el  corrido  mexicano  (1939),  La  décima  en 
México  (1947)  y  El  corrido  mexicano  (1954)  de  Vicente  T.  Mendoza,  The  Spanish 
Folksong  in  the  Southwest  (1933)  de  Arthur  L.  Campa;  European  Balladry  (1939) 
de  William  James  Entwistle;  De  la  poesía  heroico-popular  castellana  (1896)  de 
Manuel  Milá  y  Fon  tañáis;  y  Poesía  popular  y  poesía  tradicional  en  la  literatura 
española  (1922),  Poesía  juglaresca  y  juglares  (1924)  y  Flor  nueva  de  romances 
viejos  (1938)  de  Ramón  Menéndez  Pidal.  Los  temas  importantes  del  libro  fueron 
elaborados  también  del  enorme  caudal  de  estudios  sobre  la  poesía  heroico-popular 
castellana  y  el  corrido  mexicano.  Y  para  ser  más  precisos,  el  concepto  de  la  frontera 
que  Paredes  presenta,  no  'Hhe  American  frontier" ,  una  naturaleza  virgen  disponible 
para  la  colonización  angloamericana,  sino  "the  border",  una  zona  de  conflicto  y 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii.  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  49 

mestizaje  de  culturas,  no  dista  mucho  del  mismo  en  España  e  Hispanoamérica. 

ra 

Serious  writing  is  delibérate  as  well  as  a  consequence  of  an 
arrived-to  decisión;  what  one  does  with  it  may  be  of  valué  or  not, 
but  I  believe  that  one's  fidelity  to  history  is  the  first  step  to  fixing 
a  sense  of  place,  whether  that  place  is  a  world-wide  arena  or 
comer  of  it,  as  is  mine. 

Rolando  Hinojosa,  "The  Sense  of  Place" 

Aunque  el  primer  libro  de  Rolando  Hinojosa,  Estampas  del  valle  y  otras  obras 
( 1 973),  se  interpretó  por  críticos  como  si  fuera  un  costumbrismo  hispanoamericano 
del  siglo  XIX,  ahora,  debemos  leer  sus  obras  a  la  luz  de  la  narrativa  del  siglo  XX.^ 
En  su  segundo  libro.  Generaciones  y  semblanzas  (1977),  Hinojosa  demostró  que 
como  Faulkner,  Onetti,  Rulfo  o  García  Márquez,  él  también  inventaba  de  una 
manera  novedosa  una  vasta  historia  de  una  región  y  de  un  pueblo.  El  jurado  que  le 
otorgó  el  Premio  Casa  de  las  Américas  a  este  Ubro  en  1976  notó  no  sólo  su  "calidad 
de  prosa:  hábil  manejo  de  diálogos,  vigor  descriptivo,  riqueza  de  imágenes, 
excelente  dominio  de  formas  dialectales"  sino  también  su  "técnica  novedosa, 
exteriorizada  en  el  manejo  del  tiempo;  estructura  fundada  en  un  collage  de  historias 
convergentes".^  Las  muchas  tramas  fragmentarias  de  sus  nueve  übros  publicados 
forman  un  mosaico  imaginativo  en  el  cual  los  lectores  se  ven  obligados  a  intercalar 
cada  estampa  dentro  de  un  tiempo  lineal,  y  sólo  con  la  perspectiva  adquirida  de  una 
lectura  global  podemos  apreciar  su  obra  entera  como  el  "cronicón  del  condado  de 
Belken". 

El  mundo  fragmentario  de  Hinojosa  guarda  estrecha  relación  con  la  historia  de 
Tejas  y  la  zona  fronteriza.  El  condado  mítico  de  Belken  con  su  sede  en  Klail  City 
se  compone  de  pueblos  mayormente  mexicanos,  Flora  y  Relámpago,  y 
angloamericanos,  Bascom,  Ruffing  y  Edgerton.  Sus  personajes  pueblan  un  área 
colonizada  por  las  cuatro  familias  fundadoras,  los  Vilches,  Campoy,  Farias  y 
Buenrostro.  El  pueblo  méxico-tejano  de  Relámpago  tiene  un  significado  especial; 
allí  se  encuentra  el  rancho  del  Carmen  donde  la  famiüa  Buenrosü-o  ha  vivido  desde 
la  época  de  Escandón.  Con  el  rancho  del  Carmen,  Hinojosa  recuerda  la  historia  de 
resistencia:  éste  es  el  mismo  nombre  del  rancho  de  Juan  Nepomuceno  Cortina,  líder 
de  la  primera  rebeüón  mexicana  en  Tejas;  también  "En  el  condado  del  Carmen"  es 
el  primer  verso  de  una  de  las  versiones  de  "El  Corrido  de  Gregorio  Cortez".  Contra 
los  Buenrostro,  Hinojosa  inventa  la  alianza  capitalista  de  las  familias  Klail- 
Blanchard-Cooke  que  es  reminisciente  de  la  famiüa  King-Kleberg  que  se  apoderó 
de  una  gran  extensión  de  terreno  cerca  del  Río  Nueces  (ahora  en  Kleberg  County), 
primero  con  Richard  King  enfre  1850-80  y  luego  con  su  yerno  Robert  Kleberg  entre 
1920-30.  Al  morir  Richard  King  en  1 885,  el  King  Ranch  contaba  con  500.000  acres; 


50  Literatura  fronteriza  tejana 


al  morir  Robert  Kleberg  en  1932,  el  King  Ranch  había  aumentado  a  1 .250.000  acres 
(Montejano  64).  En  1854,  King  obtuvo  10.770  acres  por  $200  de  un  Pedro  Hinojosa 
(Montejano  65). 

Así,  en  el  período  contemporáneo  chicano  que  empieza  hacia  1965  con  el 
Movimiento  Chicano,  Hinojosa  seguirá  los  pasos  de  Paredes,  regresando  a  sus 
orígenes  en  el  valle  del  Río  Grande.^  Como  Paredes,  Hinojosa  cuenta  con  un  linaje 
que  se  remonta  hacia  la  época  colonial.  Hinojosa  nació  en  Mercedes,  Tejas  en  1929. 
Su  padre,  Manuel  Guzmán  Hinojosa,  nació  en  1 883  en  el  rancho  Campacuás  al  norte 
de  Mercedes,  así  como  otras  dos  generaciones  de  familiares.  Hinojosa  escribe: 

For  me  and  mine,  history  began  in  1749  when  the  first  colonists 
began  moving  into  the  southem  and  northem  banks  of  the  Río 
Grande.  Thatriver  wasnot  yeta  jurisdictionalbarrier  and  wasnot 
to  be  until  almost  one  hundred  years  later;  but,  by  then,  the  border 
had  its  own  history,  its  own  culture,  and  its  own  sense  of  place: 
it  was  Nuevo  Santander,  named  for  oíd  Santander  in  the  Spanish 
Península.  ("Sense  of  Place"  19) 

En  sus  libros,  Hinojosa  enfocará  el  pasado  hispano  ranchero  en  el  momento  de 
transición  con  el  cual  termina  el  recuento  de  Paredes,  cuando  una  generación  de 
varones,  nacida  en  el  siglo  XIX,  desaparece,  y  otra  del  siglo  XX,  será  desplazada 
de  sus  tierras  patriarcales.  Aunque  todavía  existen  las  familias  desde  los  tiempos  de 
Escandón,  como  los  Buenrostro  y  los  Villalón,  el  valle  sufrirá  cambios  debido  al 
modo  de  producción,  conflictos  regionales  entre  mexicanos  y  rinches,  y  conflictos 
internacionales,  la  Segunda  Guerra  Mundial  y  la  guerra  en  Corea.  Bajo  la  dominación 
angloamericana,  los  viejos  recordarán  el  pasado  con  nostalgia  como  una  época 
clásica.  Así  dice  don  Aureliano  Mora  al  cherife  del  barrio  mexicano  de  Klail  City 
don  Manuel  Guzmán  en  Generaciones:  "...somos  griegos  don  Manuel  ...  los 
esclavos  en  casa  de  los  romanos ..."  (149)  Como  otros  jóvenes  después  de  servir  en 
el  ejército  angloamericano  en  Corea,  Rafa  B  uenrostro  regresará  (en  Claros  varones) 
a  Tejas,  al  rancho  del  Carmen  pero  sólo  de  visita.  Y  el  presente  inseguro  de  los 
narradores  Jehú  Malacara  y  Rafa  Buenrostro — marcado  por  las  muertes  de  viejos 
revolucionarios  o  de  jóvenes  en  guerra,  algunos  a  manos  de  los  rinches  o  en  los 
campos  de  batalla — dará  título  a  la  obra  entera  de  Hinojosa,  la  Klail  City  Death  Trip 
Series. 

Sin  embargo,  no  es  hasta  Claros  varones  (1986)  con  los  epígrafes  y  las  fechas 
que  inician  este  libro  que  se  esclarecen  los  límites  históricos  de  lo  que  podríamos 
llamar  el  primer  ciclo  del  condado  de  Belken  en  los  übros  Estampas  (1973), 
Generaciones  (1977)  y  KoreanLove  Songs  (1978).  Como  indica  el  primer  epígrafe — 
"Aquí  empieza  lo  nuestro;  claven  esas  estacas,"  de  Andrés  Buenrostro  Rincón 
(1729-1801) — los  orígenes  del  linaje  de  los  Buenrostro  datan  del  siglo  XVHI  con 
la  colonización  de  Tejas.  La  muerte  de  don  Jesús  Buenrosti"o  (1883-1946),  el 
patriarca  del  rancho  del  Carmen,  recordada  por  los  personajes  de  Generaciones  y 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  51 


finalmente  fechada  en  Claros  varones  en  el  año  1946  marca,  recordando  las 
observaciones  de  Paredes,  la  desaparición  de  un  modo  de  producción  y  un  estilo  de 
vida. 

En  el  período  de  decadencia  de  la  cultura  ranchera,  de  dominación  y  resistencia 
cultural,  don  Jesús  será  la  contrapartida  del  héroe  Gregorio  Cortez.  El  callará  y 
vivirá  una  vida  pacífica  atendiéndose  a  lo  suyo.  Con  referencia  al  tipo  de  heroísmo 
en  este  período,  Hinojosa  escribe  en  el  prólogo  a  Generaciones: 

Aquí  no  hay  héroes  de  leyenda  ...  El  que  busque  héroes  de  la 

proporción  del  Cid,  pongamos  por  caso,  que  se  vaya  a  la  laguna 

de  la  leche. 

Verdad  es  que  hay  distintos  modos  de  ser  heroico.  Jalar  día  tras 

día  y  de  aguantar  a  cuánto  zonzo  le  caiga  a  uno  enfrente  no  es  cosa 

de  risa.  Entiéndase  bien:  el  aguante  tampoco  es  cerrar  los  ojos  y 

hacerse  pendejo. 

La  gente  sospecha  que  el  vivir  es  algo  heroico  en  sí.  (1) 

Aunque  no  es  un  guerrero  de  proporciones  épicas,  don  Jesús,  resiste  y  defiende 
sus  derechos  contra  los  esfuerzos  de  los  Leguizamón,  los  Klail-Blanchard-Cooke 
y  los  rinches  por  apoderarse  de  los  ranchos  del  valle.  Los  incidentes  asociados  con 
su  muerte  a  manos  de  los  Leguizamón  serán  repetidos  de  varias  perspectivas  en  los 
libros  de  Hinojosa.  Así,  él  es  una  figura  axial  porque  su  muerte  enlaza  formal  e 
históricamente  la  trama  del  cronicón  de  Belken  County. 

Digo  cronicón  por  dos  razones:  1)  porque  ésta  es  la  palabra  que  utilizan  los 
escritores  Jehú  Malacara  en  Generaciones  (169),  P.  Galindo  en  Mi  querido  Rafa  de 
1981  (8)  y  el  narrador  en  Claros  varones  (15)  y  2)  por  los  títulos  que  ha  escogido 
}imoios,a,Generacionesy  semblanzasy  Clarosvaronesde  Belken.La.TQpTQsenta.Ci6n 
de  don  Jesús  tiene  obvios  puntos  de  contacto  con  la  historiografía  española  del 
período  de  transición  del  Medioevo  al  Renacimiento,  con  las  obras  Generaciones 
y  semblanzas  (1450)  de  Fernán  Pérez  de  Guzmán  y  Claros  varones  de  Castilla 
(1489)  de  Femando  del  Pulgar.  Ambos  autores  son  cronistas  de  un  mundo  de  feudos 
y  de  familias  patriarcales  en  el  cual  la  caballería  sigue  siendo  importante,  pero  es  un 
mundo  en  transición,  contrastando  una  vieja  ética  guerrera  con  un  concepto  de  la 
hombría  basado  en  la  fama  y  la  vida  virtuosa.  Como  primero  indicó  Plutarco  en  sus 
Vidas  paralelas,  por  medio  de  las  formas  biográficas  de  la  estampa  y  la  semblanza, 
basadas  en  analogía  con  la  pintura,  se  podría  representar  personajes  históricos, 
genealogías  de  figuras  ilustres.  E  Hinojosa  siguiendo  estos  modelos,  será  el 
retratista  de  los  rancheros  del  Río  Grande,  de  claros  varones,  hombres  rectos  y 
cabales. 

En  Generaciones,  a  través  de  don  Jesús  Buenrostro,  el  quieto,  hombre  que 
merece  fama  popular  por  su  rectitud,  Hinojosa  logrará  sutilmente  una  reconstrucción 
de  la  historia  del  valle  del  Río  Grande.  Así  narra  el  anciano  Esteban  Echevarría  en 
la  cantina  El  Oasis,  en  las  primeras  páginas: 


52  Literatura  fronteriza  tejaría 


Una  noche  de  abril  cuando  las  flores  de  los  naranjos  querían 
reventar  a  pesar  de  la  sequía,  alguien  viene  y  mata  a  don  Jesús 
Buenrostro  mientras  duerme  (esto  tú  ya  lo  sabes,  Rafa).  El  matón 
es  sorprendido  mientras  trata  de  quemar  la  carpa  y  a  don  Jesús  y 
se  huye  al  oír  el  trote  de  un  caballo.  El  que  viene  es  Julián, 
hermano  menor  de  don  Jesús  el  que,  sin  media  palabra,  recoge  el 
cuerpo  y  lo  monta  atravesado  sobre  su  propio  caballo  y  se  va 
andando  rumbo  a  la  casa  de  su  hermano  para  depositarlo  al  pie  de 
aquel  nogalón  que  todavía  está  allí  como  testigo  ...  (21) 

El  incidente  sirve  para  dar  testimonio  al  conflicto  entre  los  viejos  rancheros 
contra  los  Leguizamón,  gente  advenediza,  y  su  complicidad  con  los  angloamericanos 
y  los  rinches,  por  apoderarse  de  los  terrenos  del  valle.  Don  Julián  cruzará  el  río  y  en 
México  matará  a  los  asesinos  de  su  hermano,  y  después  también  a  don  Alejandro 
Leguizamón.  A  la  misma  vez,  Hinojosa  alude  al  cambio  que  se  estaba  llevando  a 
cabo  en  el  valle.  El  mundo  patriarcal  basado  en  la  ranchería  está  por  desparecer. 
El  año,  según  sabemos  unos  nueve  aüos  después  en  Claros  varones,  es  1946.  La 
referencia  al  ciclo  del  mundo  natural,  "una  noche  de  abril  cuando  las  flores  de  los 
naranjos  querían  reventai",  que  se  repetirá  en  varias  ocasiones  al  recordar  la  muerte 
de  don  Jesús,  apunta  al  cambio  ya  en  gestación,  del  rancho  agropecuario  a  la 
empresa  capitalista.  Esta  frase  tiene  su  eco,  su  proyección  ulterior  en  Generaciones, 
cuando  Josefa  Guzmán  escribe  el  1 1  de  abril  de  1920  a  su  esposo,  Manuel,  en  el 
campo  de  batalla  en  la  Revolución  Mexicana  que  "la  cosecha  de  algodón  será  bien 
poca.  Vamos  llegando  a  los  principios  de  mayo  y  los  capullos  apenas  van  creciendo — 
si  es  que  crezcan  y  lleguen  a  reventar."  (85)  En  la  misma  carta  escribe:  "Por  aquí 
cayeron  unos  boUllos  diciendo  que  van  a  sembrar  naranjos  y  toronjos.  Les  dije  que 
así  volvieras  del  otro  lado  que  hablaran  contigo."  (85)  En  otra  época  don  Manuel 
Guzmán  ya  no  vivirá  de  su  rancho.  Para  completar  la  lógica  histórica  latente  del 
valle  del  Río  Grande — que  se  convertirá  en  la  década  de  los  treinta,  como  el  valle 
de  San  Joaquín  y  el  Imperial  de  Caüfomia,  en  zona  de  explotación  del  trabajador 
mexicano — lectores  de  Generaciones  sólo  necesitan  saltar  una  página  al  mundo  de 
la  década  de  los  sesenta,  y  escuchar  las  voces  anónimas  del  campesinado  migratorio: 

Estamos  en  el  mes  de  agosto  en  el  condado  de  Beiken  y  la  pizca 
de  algodón  se  está  acabando.  Las  naranjas  y  las  toronjas  no 
estarán  listas  hasta  diciembre.  Estas  se  estiran  de  los  árboles 
desde  diciembre  hasta  marzo  y,  si  hay  suerte  y  no  hiela,  hasta 
abril.  Pero,  por  lo  que  toca  de  agosto  a  diciembre,  la  cosa  se  pone 
tan  pelona  como  una  calavera  a  no  ser  que... 
¿Qué?  ¿Salimos  pá  Indiana  como  anuncia  el  Güero  Cascara  o  nos 
quedamos  a  mondonguear  hasta  diciembre.  (87) 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  53 


Hinojosa,  a  través  de  sus  narradores  y  las  estampas  fragmentarias,  logra  esta 
reconstrucción  de  varias  etapas  históricas  con  sus  ilaciones  sociales,  económicas  y 
políticas,  precisamente  porque  ya  ha  pasado.  Queda  claro  este  hecho  en  la  última 
sección  de  Generaciones,  cuando  Enedino  Broca,  locutor  de  la  KNFB,  dedica  una 
pieza  a  las  chalequeras  de  la  Suggs  Clothing  Manufacturing  Company,  primera 
industria  de  Klail.  (155) 

IV 

The  U.S.-Mexican  border  es  una  herida  abierta  where  the  Third 
World  grates  against  the  first  and  bleeds.  And  before  a  scab  forms 
it  hemorrhages  again,  the  hfeblood  of  two  worlds  merging  to 
fonn  a  third  country — a  border  culture. 

Gloria  Anzaldúa,  Borderlands/La  Frontera 

Gloria  Anzaldúa  merece  elogios  por  su  revitalización  creativa  y  crítica  de  la 
literatura  fronteriza  chicana.  Como  otras  escritoras  chicanas  recibió  sustento 
creativo  de  la  historia  de  rebeüón  y  resistencia  femirústa.  "My  Chicana  identity  is 
grounded  in  the  Indian  woman's  history  of  resistence,"  escribe  ella  en  Borderlands 
(21).  Ganó  su  primera  fama  fuera  de  la  problemática  patriarcal  tradicional  del 
Movimiento  Chicano  en  asociaciones  feministas-lesbianas  en  el  este  de  los  Estados 
Unidos,  y  debe  ser  acreditada  con  la  promoción  de  una  perspectiva  crítica  tanto 
feminista  como  tercermundista  con  su  coedición  (con  Cherríe  Moraga)  en  1981  de 
This  Bridge  Called  My  Back:  Writings  by  Radical  Women  of  Color  (versión  en 
español,  Esta  puente  mi  espalda:  Voces  de  mujeres  tercermundistas  en  los  Estados 
Unidos).  Con  esta  antología  testimonial — que  reúne  contribuciones  de  mujeres 
afroamericanas,  asiáticas,  chicanas,  cubanas,  indígenas  norteamericanas  y 
puertorriqueñas — Moraga  y  Anzaldúa  querían  afirmar  que  el  movimiento  feminista 
angloamericano,  tan  limitado  en  su  problemática,  evitaba  cuestiones  de  raza  y  clase. 
Las  múltiples  opresiones  vividas  por  mujeres  de  color  separaban  a  estas  intelectuales 
de  sus  hermanas  blancas  y  las  unía  de  nuevo  no  sólo  con  chicanas  sino  también  con 
mujeres  al  sur  de  la  frontera.  Así,  esta  literatura  estadounidense  es  semejante  en 
cuanto  a  problemática  de  sexualidad,  raza  y  clase  a  la  más  reciente  literatura 
testimonial  del  post-"Boom"  hispanoamericano.^  Me  refiero  a  obras  como  Me 
llamo  Rigoberta  Menchúyasíme  nació  la  conciencia  {19S3)  de  RigobertaMenchú 
y  Aquí  también  (1984)  de  Domitila  Barrios  de  Chungara. 

En  su  testimonio  de  ''coming  out "  a  su  cultura,  Borderlands/La  Frontera:  The 
New  Mestiza  (1987),  Anzaldúa  regresa  a  Hargill  en  el  valle  del  Río  Grande,  al  origen 
de  su  subordinación  como  chicana,  mujer  y  lesbiana.  Ella  ofrece  una  visión  histórica 
y  metafórica  de  la  frontera  para  derribar  barreras  y  forjar  puentes  políticos  (dedica 
su  libro  a  mexicanos  de  ambos  lados  de  la  frontera).  Según  Anzaldúa,  las  fronteras 
se  establecen  para  proteger  lo  nuestro  del  pehgro,  de  lo  ajeno,  porque  las  fronteras 


54  Literatura  fronteriza  tejaría 


también  son  lugares  donde  habita  lo  prohibido.  Para  los  angloamericanos  en  poder, 
los  que  habitan  los  fronteras  son  los  chicanos,  negros,  indígenas,  mulatos,  mestizos, 
mojados,  homosexuales  y  lesbianas,  o  todos  aquellos  que  son  "ilegítimos".  En 
suma,  las  fronteras  son  los  espacios  tanto  geográficos  como  conceptuales  donde  son 
más  dolorosamente  visibles  las  contradicciones  de  poder  y  subordinación,  resistencia 
y  rebelión. 

Para  conocer  fronteras,  hay  que  cruzar  barreras,  ser  atravesada.  Gloria  Anzaldúa 
es  una  escritora  que  vive  a  varios  niveles  las  contradicciones  (un  "nepantilismo" 
mental  según  ella)  de  ser  mujer  de  frontera.  Como  se  percibe  en  otras  obras 
testimoniales  de  mujeres  latinoamericanas,  Anzaldúa  ya  no  es  una  mujer  callada  y 
sufrida.  Actúa  en  vez  de  reaccionar.  Calificada  por  su  cultura  como  "hija  de  la  mala 
vida,"  "hocicona"  y  "andariega",  se  atreve  a  enfrentarse  con  su  patriarcado  rural 
aceptando  que  la  resistencia  y  rebeüón  también  son  cosas  de  mujeres.  Ella  es  la 
primera  en  su  familia  en  seis  generaciones  que  salió  fuera  del  Valle  a  buscar  su 
propia  vida.  Escribe  en  inglés  y  español  según  se  lo  pide  el  momento.  Y  al  encontrar 
su  propia  voz,  rechaza  la  inferioridad  lingüística  impuesta  por  nacionalistas  de 
ambos  lados  de  la  frontera.  Para  muchos,  hablamos  inglés  mal  con  acento  mexicano 
y  al  mismo  tiempo  mutilamos  el  español.  Pero  como  indica  ella,  el  lenguaje  chicano 
fue  inventado  para  comunicar  realidades  y  valores  propios  de  una  zona  fronteriza 
y  añade:  "Presently,  this  infant  language,  this  bastard  language.  Chicano  Spanish, 
is  not  approved  by  any  society .  But  we  Chicanos  no  longer  feel  that  we  need  to  beg 
entrance,  that  we  need  always  to  make  the  first  overture — to  transíate  to  Anglos, 
Mexicans  and  Latinos,  apology  blurting  out  of  our  mouths  with  every  step.  Today 
we  ask  to  be  met  halfway"  (Preface). 

Como  Paredes  e  Hinojosa,  empieza  su  recuento  familiar,  "The  Homeland, 
Azüán/El  otro  México",  registrando  la  historia  de  dominación  y  resistencia,  pero 
ahora  enfatizando  las  voces  de  mujeres.  Después  de  la  rebelión  de  los  sediciosos  en 
1915,  la  dominación  se  llevó  a  cabo  con  la  pérdida  de  los  ranchos  de  sus  abuelas. 
Así  recuerda  su  madre:  ''Mi  pobre  madre  viuda  perdió  two-thirds  oíher  ganado.  A 
smart  gabacho  lawyer  took  the  land  away  mamá  hadn't  paid  taxes.  No  hablaba 
inglés,  she  didn't  know  how  to  ask  for  time  to  raise  the  money"  (8).  Y  Anzaldúa 
añade:  "My  father'  s  mother.  Mama  Locha,  also  lost  her  terreno.  For  a  while  we  got 
$12.50  a  year  for  the  "mineral  rights"  of  six  acres  of  cemetery,  all  that  was  left  of 
the  ancestral  lands.  Mama  Locha  had  asked  that  we  bury  her  there  beside  her 
husband.  El  cementerio  estaba  cercado.  But  there  was  a  fence  around  the  cementery, 
chained  and  padlocked  by  the  ranch  owners  of  the  surrounding  land.  We  couldn't 
even  get  in  to  visit  the  graves,  much  less  bury  her  there.  Today,  it  is  still  padlocked. 
The  sign  reads:  'Keep  out.  Trespassers  will  be  shot'"  (8).  Década  tras  década,  la 
fisonomía  natural  se  ü^ansformó  hasta  que  en  los  cincuenta,  Anzaldúa,  de  niña,  vio 
la  tierra  completamente  parcelada  para  el  beneficio  de  compañías  norteamericanas. 
Desplazados  de  sus  terrenos  hereditarios,  los  Anzaldúa  se  convirtieron  en  inquilinos 
trabajando  cerca  del  King  Ranch  para  Rio  Farms  Incorporated. 

La  transformación  completa  del  valle  del  Río  Grande  y  toda  la  frontera  no  cesó 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  55 


en  la  "línea"  internacional.  Hoy  día,  observa  Anzaldúa,  compañías  estadounidenses 
(RCA,  Fairchild,  Litton,  Zenith,  y  Motorola,  por  ejemplo),  bajo  un  programa  de 
cooperación,  controlan  la  economía  fronteriza  por  medio  de  las  maquiladoras,  las 
plantas  industriales  en  ciudades  mexicanas  fronterizas,  cuya  fuerza  de  labor,  en  alto 
porcentaje,  está  compuesta  de  mujeres  (10).  Este  desplazamiento  de  mujeres  junto 
con  las  oleadas  de  emigrantes  hacia  el  norte  ha  reemplazado  las  estructuras  sociales 
de  comunidades  rurales.  En  su  lugar,  nace  una  nueva  cultura  urbana  fronteriza 
superexplotada  no  sólo  económica  sino  también  culturalmente  por  la  penetración 
de  medios  de  comunicación  masivos  norteamericanos: 

Working  eight  to  twelve  hours  a  day  to  wire  backup  lights  for 
U.S .  autos  or  solder  miniscule  wires  in  TV  sets  is  not  the  Mexican 
way.  While  the  women  are  in  the  maquiladoras,  the  children  are 
left  on  their  own.  Many  roam  the  street,  become  part  of  cfwlo 
gangs.  The  infusión  of  valúes  of  the  white  culture,  coupled  with 
the  exploitation  by  that  culmre,  is  changing  the  Mexican  way  of 
life.  (10) 

Este  estilo  de  vida  tiene  su  resonancia  para  mexicanos  del  norte  y  así  lo  verifica 
en  Tijuana  y  Mexicali  Leobardo  Saravia  Quiroz  del  Colegio  de  la  Frontera  Norte: 

Los  movimientos  juveniles  otorgan  a  la  frontera  una  vistosa 
singularidad.  A  los  principios  de  los  setenta  irrumpen  los  cholos: 
jóvenes,  que  con  impulso  gregario  característico,  se  organizan  en 
bandas.  Viven  en  la  periferia  no  sólo  urbana  sino  social. 
Analfabetos  funcionales,  rescatan  la  tradición  del  pachuquismo 
califomiano  de  los  cuarenta  y  la  adaptan  a  sus  necesidades 
identificatorias. ...  El  cholismo  no  nace  como  proyecto  poh'tico  o 
cultural  sino  como  actitud  defensiva  ante  una  sociedad  hostil. 
(Saravia  Quiroz  49) 

Al  otro  lado  de  la  línea,  escribe  Anzaldúa,  a  la  mujer  indocumentada  no  le 
espera  una  vida  mejor.  Al  querer  cruzar  la  frontera,  estará  sujeta  a  la  violencia  del 
"coyote".  En  los  centros  urbanos  del  norte  puede  encontrar  alojamiento  con  sus 
familiares  o  puede  formar  parte  de  una  población  de  desalojados  o  desamparados 
(los  homeless).  Si  le  toca  buena  suerte  puede  encontrar  trabajo  en  una  fábrica  o  en 
la  industria  costurera,  o  de  sirvienta  en  una  casa  particular  o  en  los  grandes  hoteles 
de  lujo  desde  San  Francisco,  a  Chicago  hasta  Nueva  York. 


The  creators  of  borders...are...great  pretenders.  They  post  their 
projects  in  the  world  with  the  sturdiest  available  signs  and  hope 


56  Literatura  fronteriza  tejaría 


that  conventions  (or,  in  the  instance  of  California  a  language  law) 
will  keep  them  in  place.  But  even  as  the  first  stakes  are  driven,  the 
earth  itself,  in  all  its  intractable  shiftiness,  moves  toward  dis- 
placement.  Amused,  "unamerican"  spectators — who  may  not 
even  know  how  to  read — ^recognize  immediately  that  they,  too, 
have  a  stake  in  displacement. 

Houston  A.  Baker,  Jr.,  "Limits  of  the  Border" 

Dentro  de  una  nueva  problemática  histórica  en  que  parecen  borrarse  las 
fronteras  entre  norte  y  sur.  Primer  y  Tercer  Mundo,  debe  insertarse  la  literatura 
chicana  contemporánea.  Con  la  pieza  musical  dedicada  a  las  chalequeras  de  la 
Suggs  Clothing  Manufacmring  Company,  Hinojosa  aludía,  en  1976,  al  avanzado 
proceso  de  industrialización  en  el  suroeste,  en  el  cual  la  mujer  de  clase  obrera  tendría 
un  papel  importante.  Desde  la  década  de  los  treinta  hasta  los  setenta,  compañías 
norteamericanas  instalaron  sus  fábricas  en  el  suroeste  de  los  Estados  Unidos  para 
aprovecharse  de  la  labor  de  costureras  chicanas  y  mexicanas.  Ahora,  en  la  década 
de  los  noventa,  somos  testigos  de  dramáticos  cambios  demográficos  en  el  suroeste 
de  los  Estados  Unidos  y  en  el  norte  de  México  que  determinarán  el  futuro  de  la 
cultura  chicana-mexicana.  En  un  breve  período  de  treinta  años,  de  1950  a  1980,  la 
población  de  ciudades  mexicanas  fronterizas,  desde  Tijuana  en  el  Pacífico  hasta 
Matamoros  en  el  Golfo  de  México,  se  ha  cuadruplicado  (Wiley  y  Gottlieb  258). 
Mujeres  y  hombres  mexicanos  y  latinoamericanos  se  han  congregado  en  la  frontera 
con  el  propósito  de  encontrar  trabajo,  ya  sea  en  las  maquilas  mexicanas  establecidas 
primero  bajo  el  Programa  Industrial  Fronterizo  de  1966  y  ahora  bajo  el  Tratado  de 
Libre  Comercio,  o  en  los  centros  urbanos  de  los  Estados  Unidos.  Y  debido  a  la 
enorme  influencia  cultural  y  económica  de  los  Estados  Unidos,  podemos  imaginamos 
a  futuros  ciudadanos  mexicanos  como  si  fueran  chicanos  en  potencia. 

Un  fenómeno  semejante  ocurre  al  norte  de  la  frontera.  Caüfomia,  por  ejemplo, 
será  el  primer  estado  compuesto  de  una  población  proveniente  de  varias  regiones 
del  Tercer  Mundo;  poco  después  del  año  2000,  la  población  angloamericana  será 
una  minoría.  Si  esta  tendencia  en  la  población  continúa.  California  experimentará 
un  trastrocamiento  completo  en  el  porcentaje  de  blancos  a  minorías  de  1945.  Sin 
embargo,  existe  la  posibilidad  que  algunas  regiones  de  los  Estados  Unidos — 
especialmente  en  California  y  Tejas,  como  en  otras  áreas  del  Tercer  Mundo, 
incluyendo  Africa  del  Sur — serán  compuestas  de  una  minoría  dominante  blanca  y 
una  masa  al  margen  del  poder.  Así  una  antigua  cultura  fronteriza  con  nuevas 
reahdades  políticas,  sociales  y  económicas,  extendiéndose  desde  San  Francisco, 
Chicago  y  Nueva  York  hasta  el  D.F.,  Centroamérica  y  toda  la  zona  caribeña  se 
reafirma  en  el  escenario  político  internacional. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  57 


VI 

La  tierra,  en  parte,  se  la  quitaron  a  los  viejos;  en  parte,  nosotros 
mismos  también  la  perdimos  y  otros  más  la  vendieron.  Eso  ya 
pasó  ...  y,  como  quiera  que  sea,  la  tierra  ni  se  muere  ni  se  va  a 
ningún  lado.  A  ver  si  mis  hijos  o  los  de  ellos,  cuando  los  tengan 
...  a  ver  si  ellos  mantienen  o  si  recobran  parte  de  ella. 
Si  también  nos  quitan  o  si  perdemos  o  vendemos  el  idioma, 
entonces  no  habrá  remisión.  El  día  que  muera  el  español  esto 
dejará  de  ser  el  valle. 

Rolando  Hinojosa,  Claros  varones  de  Belken 

La  literatura  fronteriza  que  surgió  de  Brownsville,  Mercedes  y  Hargill  no  es  una 
literatura  de  minorías  al  margen  de  la  historia  y  de  las  grandes  tradiciones  literarias 
norteamericana  e  hispanoamericana.  Fronteras,  borders,  han  llegado  a  ser  parte  de 
la  condición  humana  en  la  modernidad  del  siglo  XX;  el  mestizaje  pertenece  al 
futuro.  Y  nuestros  tres  ejemplos — la  tradición  oral  estudiada  por  Paredes,  la  crónica 
postmoderna  de  Hinojosa  y  el  testimonio  autobiográfico  de  Anzaldúa — revelan  que 
estamos  vinculados  culturalmente  a  niveles  populares  y  hterarios  a  todo  un  vasto 
continente  de  habla  hispana.  Además,  como  indican  las  estadísticas  de  la  frontera 
norte  en  las  postrimerías  del  siglo  XX,  estos  escritores  están  en  la  vanguardia  de  un 
cambio  epocal  en  el  cual  debemos  incluir  la  surgiente  población  indígena  del  mundo 
hispanoamericano.  ^^  Hay  que  reconocer  que  cualquier  historia  literaria  americana 
que  ignore  estos  cambios  culturales  o  las  contribuciones  de  escritoras  y  escritores 
chicanos  quedará  incompleta. 

Héctor  Calderón 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTAS 

Una  traducción  en  inglés  de  este  ensayo  se  publicó  en  Dispositio  1 6.4 1  ( 199 1 ).  El  original 
en  español  ha  sido  actualizado  con  nuevo  material  para  este  número  de  Mester. 

Entrevista  personal  con  Américo  Paredes,  en  la  Universidad  de  Tej  as,  Austin,  ell  3  de  j  unió, 
1990. 

^  Paredes  ha  mantenido  una  relación  ambivalente  con  el  gobierno  de  los  Estados  Unidos. 
Escribió  una  poema  "The  Four  Freedoms"  (Between  Two  Worlds  58)  en  1941  como  respuesta 
escéptica  al  famoso  discurso  del  mismo  título  del  presidente  Franklin  D.  Roosevelt  al 
congreso  de  los  Estados  Unidos  el  6  de  enero  de  1941.  En  su  discurso,  Roosevelt  había 
declarado  sobre  una  invasión  inminente:  "The  first  phase  of  invasión  of  this  Hemisphere 
would  not  be  the  landing  of  regular  troops.  The  necessary  strategic  points  would  be  occupied 


58  Literatura  fronteriza  tejana 


by  secret  agents  and  their  dupes — and  great  numbers  of  them  are  already  here,  and  in  Latín 
America...  That  is  why  the  future  of  ali  American  Republics  is  today  in  serious  danger"  (7). 
Paredes  escribe:  "este  país  de  "Cuatro  Libertades'Vnada  nos  puede  dar  ./Justicia.. .¿acaso 
existe ?/La  fuerza  es  la  justicia,/palabras  humorísticas:  Justicia  y  Libertad"  (58).  Después  de 
terminar  su  servicio  en  el  ejército  estadounidense,  Paredes  permaneció  en  el  Japón  por  cinco 
años.  En  diciembre  24  de  1948,  escribió  una  poema  irónico  en  ocasión  de  la  muerte  del 
general  Hideki  Tojo  a  manos  de  las  autoridades  "civilizadas"  de  los  Estados  Unidos.  Ver 
"Westward  the  Course  of  Empire"  (Between  Two  Worlds  111). 

■^  Ambos  Walter  Prescott  Webb  y  J.  Frank  Dobie  eran  distinguidos  profesores  en  la 
Universidad  de  Tejas,  Austin,  cuando  Paredes  publicó  su  tesis.  En  "With  His  Fistol  in  His 
Hand",  escribe  con  humor  de  las  interpretaciones  "objetivas"  de  Webb:  "Professor  Webb 
does  not  mean  to  be  disparaging  [de  los  mexicanos].  One  wonders  what  his  opinión  might 
have  been  when  he  was  in  a  less  scholarly  mood  and  not  looking  at  the  Mexican  from  the 
objective  point  of  view  of  the  historian"  (17).  En  la  década  de  los  treinta  en  George 
Washington  Gómez,  Paredes  inventa  un  personaje  K.  Hank  Harvey,  o  sea  J.  Frank  Dobie,  de 
Nueva  York,  que  se  convierte  en  un  tejano  con  sombrero  y  botas,  reconocido  como  la 
autoridad  sobre  el  folklore  tejano  sin  saber  español.  Paredes  escribe  del  papel  cultural  de 
Harvey:  "Harvey' s  fame  grew  too  big  even  for  vast  Texas,  and  soon  he  was  a  national  and 
then  an  International  figure.  Por  K.  Hank  Harvey  filled  a  very  urgent  need;  men  like  him  were 
badly  in  demand  in  Texas.  They  were  needed  to  point  out  the  local  color,  and  in  the  process 
make  the  general  public  see  that  starving  Mexicans  were  not  an  ugly,  pitiful  sight  but 
something  very  picturesque  and  quainL,  something  tourists  from  the  North  would  pay  money 
to  come  and  see.  By  this  same  process  bloody  murders  became  charming  adventure  stories, 
and  men  one  would  have  considered  uncouth  and  ignorant  became  true  originais"  (27 1  -272). 
^  Para  dos  estudios  recientes  de  George  Washington  Gómez,  ver  Ramón  Saldívar  "Border- 
lands  of  Culture"  y  José  David  Saldívar  "Américo  Paredes". 

•^  Webb,  en  Texas  Rangers,  escribe  del  mexicano:  "Without  disparagement,  it  may  be  said 
that  there  is  a  cruel  streak  in  the  Mexican  nature,  or  so  the  history  of  Texas  would  lead  one 
to  believe.  This  cruelty  may  be  a  heritage  from  the  Spanish  of  the  Inquisition;  it  may,  and 
doubtiess  should,  be  attributed  partly  to  the  Indian  blood. ...  The  Mexican  warrior  ...  was,  on 
the  whole,  inferior  to  the  Comanche  and  wholly  unequal  to  the  Texan.  The  whine  of  the  leaden 
slugs  stirred  in  him  an  irresistible  impulse  to  travei  with  rather  than  against  the  music.  He 
won  more  victories  o  ver  the  Texans  by  parley  than  by  force  of  arms.  Por  making  promises — 
and  for  breaking  them — he  had  no  peer."  Citado  por  Paredes  ( "With  His  Fistol  in  His  Hand" 
17).  José  David  Saldívar  ofrece  un  estudio  revelador  del  diálogo  académico  entre  Webb  y 
Paredes  en  su  "Chicano  Border  Nairatives  as  Cultural  Critique". 

"  Debemos  mencionar  que  Hinojosa  escribió  su  tesis  de  maestría  sobre  Cervantes  y  sus  tesis 
doctoral  sobre  Benito  Pérez  Galdós.  Estos  clásicos  españoles  son  fuentes  del  realismo  de 
Hinojosa. 

Ver  páginas  preliminaries  de  Generaciones.  En  1976,  el  jurado  de  Casa  de  las  Américas 
contaba  con  Juan  Carlos  Onetti  (Uruguay),  Domingo  Miliani  (Venezuela),  Lincoln  Silva 
(Paraguay)  y  Lisandro  Otero  (Cuba).  El  manuscrito  que  Hinojosa  envió  a  Cuba  a  través  de 
la  embajada  suiza  no  llevaba  título.  El  libro  fue  publicado  en  Cuba  en  1976  con  el  título  Klail 
City  y  sus  alrededores. 

°  Hinojosa  es  "Ellen  Clayton  Garwood  Professor  of  EngUsh  and  Creative  Writing"  en  la 
Universidad  de  Tejas,  Austin. 

^  Ver  Barbara  Harlow,  "Sites  of  Struggle",y  SoniaSaldívar-HuU,  "Feminismon  the  Border", 
para  estudios  comparativos  de  la  mujer  chicana  y  mujeres  del  Tercer  Mundo. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  59 


^"  En  1978,  en  América  Indígena  (Mayer  y  Masferrer)  se  estimo  la  población  indígena  en 
unos  27.9  millones,  cifra  sumamente  conservadora  según  los  investigadores.  El  doblamiento 
de  los  13  millones  de  indígenas  en  1962  demostro  a  los  investigadores  que  esta  población  no 
sólo  es  un  factor  constante  en  Hispanoamérica  sino  que  está  en  pujante  crecimiento, 
tendencia  que  se  proyecta  bacia  el  futuro.  En  1993,  el  Los  Angeles  Times  ("A  New  CaU  for 
Indian  Activists"  Hl)  determinó  la  población  indígena  entre  20  a  40  millones. 


OBRAS  CITADAS 

Anzaldúa,  Gloria.  Borderlands,  La  Frontera:  The  New  Mestiza.  San  Francisco:  Spinsters/ 

AuntLute,  1987. 
Baker,  Jr.,  Houston     A.  "Limits  of  the  Border."  Unpublished  manuscript  cited  with 

permission  of  the  author. 
Barrios  de  Chungara,  Domitila.  Aquí  también:  testimonios  recopilados  por  David  Aceby. 

México,  DF:  Siglo  XXI  Editores,  1985. 
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Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  63 


Redefíning  Epic  and  Novel  through 

Rulfo's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Rivera 's 

Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra 


Juan  Rulfo's  Pedro  Páramo  is  a  novel  that  exposes  the  reality  of  Mexican 
provincial  life  in  Jalisco  through  the  utilization  of  the  hero  archetype,  popular 
beliefs,  myths  and  the  oral  testimony  of  women.^  hi  his  experimental  novel,  Rulfo 
captures  the  coUective  voice  of  repressed  souls  lost  in  a  town  of  floating  spirits. 
Tomás  Rivera' s  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra  is  also  a  developing  genre  that  redefines 
the  reality  of  northem  Mexican  culture  in  the  U.S.  Southwest  through  the  represen- 
tation  of  migrant  farmworker  cultm^.  Rivera  transforms  the  Ufe  of  the  Mexican 
American  into  a  Chicano  narrative.  Both  novéis  reflect  a  more  "truthful"  picture  of 
reality  that  transcends  the  boundaries  of  specific  genres,  such  as  the  traditional  epic 
and  the  realist  novel.  This  essay  will  focus  on  the  evolution  of  epic  form,  along  with 
its  utilization  of  the  hero  archetype,  in  Juan  Rulfo's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Tomás 
Rivera'  s  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra  in  order  to  illustrate  the  development  of  the  novel. 

Traditionally,  readers  of  literature  have  been  conditioned  to  perceive  the  epic 
in  a  linear  manner.  This  is  due  in  large  part  to  its  formulaic  structure.  The 
construction  of  this  long  narrative  põem  has  been  to  present  a  story  in  a  logical, 
chronological,  one-dimensional  perspective  in  which  the  central  characters  can  be 
easily  identified.  For  example,  the  epic  hero  is  presented  as  a  larger-  than-hfe  figure 
whose  actions  are  related  to  the  survival  of  his  people.  Moreover,  because  of  his 
morality  andrighteousness,  areward  of  happiness  will  awaithim  in  the  end.  In  other 
words,  based  on  a  linear  history,  the  uniqueness  and  destiny  of  each  character  will 
be  determined  by  his  ability  to  recognize  and,  most  importantly,  to  act  against 
oppressive  circumstances  that  are  present  in  daily  life.  Thus,  the  final  result  and 
purpose  of  the  traditional  epic,  as  Aden  Hayes'  states,  "is  to  be  of  continuing  use  and 
inspiration  to  a  people  as  they  move  forward  in  history,  to  be  repeated  down  to  the 
last  generation  of  the  tribe"  (280). 

More  importantly,  however,  the  origin  of  the  epic  is  the  oral  tradition  of  myths 


64    Redefining  Epic  and  Novel  through  Rulfo  's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Rivera 's .. 


that  belong  to  a  distant  legendary  past  (Frye  51).  These  traditional  stories  about 
gods,  kings  and  héroes  serve  as  a  foundation  for  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  at 
times,  its  future  destruction.  Therefore,  a  property  of  tLe  epic  becomes  the 
battleground  of  "commencement"  and  "honors,"  "firsts"  and  "bests,"  where  a 
specific  form  of  popular  knowledge  is  accepted  in  many  cases  as  the  literal  truth. 
Although  these  myths  are  filled  with  inconsistencies  and  absurdities,  a  central  focus 
of  the  epic  is  to  establish  the  legitimacy  of  man  and  his  relationship  with  the 
universe.  With  this  in  mind,  it  becomes  imperative  for  the  establishment  of  a  grand 
past  for  the  world  of  the  epic,  a  world  that  separates  itself  from  contemporary  reality. 
It  is  this  "sacred"  past,  however,  as  Mikhaií  M.  Bakhtin  states,  that  allows  the 
epic  to  remain  locked  out  and  distant  from  the  present: 

The  epic  world  is  an  utterly  finished  thing,  not  only  as  an 
authentic  event  of  the  distant  past  but  also  on  its  own  terms  and 
by  its  own  standards;  it  is  impossible  to  change,  to  re-think,  to  re- 
evaluate  anything  in  it.  It  is  completed,  conclusive  and  immu- 
table,  as  a  fact,  an  idea  and  value.  This  defines  absolute  epic 
distance.(17) 

It  is  precisely  this  separation  from  and  completeness  with  relation  to  contem- 
porary reality  that  serve  as  a  source  of  power  for  the  epic's  "absolute  pasL"  It  will 
be  impossible  to  change  this  relationship  because  of  the  boundaries  and  limitations 
the  epic  form  has  set  for  itself.  These  limitations  imply  a  finished  form  for  the  epic 
as  a  genre. 

In  contrast,  the  novel  as  a  developing  genre  is  never  complete  for  it  changes 
according  to  social  and  historical  circumstances.^  The  novel  parodies,  exposes  and 
subverts  the  epic's  own  formal  hmitations:  thus,  it  créales  its  own  particular  style, 
incorporating  and  reformulating  other  genres.  For  example,  the  traditional  filial 
bonds  of  the  epic  world  in  Juan  Rulfo' s  Pedro  Páratno  collapse  because  the  quest 
of  the  son  Juan  Preciado  begins  with  the  death  of  his  mother  and  ends  with  the  death 
of  his  father.  In  fact,  the  reader  will  understand  that  the  story  of  the  Preciados  and 
the  Páramos  only  demeans  and  debases  every  aspect  of  what  an  epic  tale  should 
represent.  Its  story  line  is  chaotic,  fragmented  and  confusing,  where  the  reader  must 
unite  the  scattered  pieces  of  the  narrative  puzzle.  Instead  of  communicating  a 
message  of  bravery  and  hope,  Pedro  Páranio  sends  a  message  of  death  and  despair . 
If  the  reader  chooses  the  hero  to  be  Juan  Preciado,  this  character  fails;  he  not  only 
fails  in  his  search  for  his  father  Pedro  Páramo,  he  is  eventually  suffocated  and 
succumbs  to  death  like  the  rest  of  the  characters.  If  the  hero  is  presumed  to  be  Pedro 
Páramo,  the  reader  soon  realizes  that  this  character  is  only  a  self-absorbed  tyrant 
who  swallows  every  last  breath  of  Ufe  and  hope  that  the  Comalan  people  possess. 
No  matter  how  the  novel  is  interpreted,  the  end  result  is  failure:  failure  to  act,  to 
respond,  to  take  charge  of  one'  s  own  destiny  in  Ufe.  Thus,  the  souls  of  the  individuais 
are  forced  to  live  in  a  state  of  purgatory  with  an  illusion  of  what  could  have  been. 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  65 


The  Comalan  people  will  be  condemned  for  the  rest  of  their  lives  for  not  allowing 
their  true  spirits  to  live  while  they  were  actually  alive.  Their  spirits  will  etemally  and 
hopelessly  float  in  limbo,  a  state  of  nothingness,  recalling  the  past,  recalling  what 
could  have  been  if  they  would  have  taken  control  of  their  lives.  Yet,  it  is  what  the 
story  of  Pedro  Páramo  negates  that  creates  the  allusion  to  an  epic.  Rulfo  has  actually 
created  what  should  be  termed  a  satine  prose  epic.^  This  method  is  achieved 
ingeniously  by  implied  comparison  or  contrast.  As  often  stated,  one  can  only 
understand  the  darkness  if  light  has  been  revéale  ,  otherwise  the  darkness  will  only 
distort  what  is  considered  true  and  real.  Rulfo's  vTeation  of  darkness  and  despair  in 
Pedro  Páramo  becomes  more  powerful  and  absolute  of  what  has  been  considered, 
traditionally,  the  epic.  In  fact,  every  aspect  of  the  epic  in  the  plot  falis  to  pieces, 
leaving  only  the  skeletal  structures  to  bear  witness.  Examples  of  this  are  evident 
throughout  the  novel,  such  as  Susana  San  Juan's  experience  in  a  cave  filled  with 
bonés  and,  here,  Pedro  Páramo' s  final  moment: 

Se  apoyó  en  los  brazos  de  Damiana  Cisneros  e  hizo  intento  de 
caminar.  Después  de  unos  cuantos  pasos  cayó,  suplicando  por 
dentro;  pero  sin  decir  una  sola  palabra.  Dio  un  golpe  seco  contra 
la  tierra  y  se  fue  desmoronando  como  si  fuera  un  montón  de 
piedras.  (159) 

Viewed  from  this  perspective,  the  reader  is,  therefore,  forced  to  reconsider  the 
traditional,  imaginary  style  of  the  epic  and  its  definitions.  Rulfo's  creation  of 
Mexican  reality  is  captured  through  the  use  of  the  archetype,  oral  tradition  and  the 
testimony  of  women.  The  reaüty  of  these  traditional  myths  is  a  frightening  account 
for  the  people  of  Cómala,  past  and  present.  It  is  these  oral  beliefs  that  transform 
themselves  into  wailing  spirits,  and  eventually  into  the  metaphors  of  literature. 

As  stated  by  Jean  Franco,  this  altitude  presented  by  Rulfo  is  one  where 
"environment  still  dominates  human  beings"  (348).  The  escape  for  these  people  is 
an  illusion;  their  path  is  already  predetermined  because  the  traditional  myths  that 
they  live  by  domínate  their  daily  lives  and,  eventually,  their  wandering  souls. 
Nonetheless,  these  people  continue  to  Uve  by  the  deep-rooted  Mexican  myths  that 
control  and  repress  the  Comalan  people.  First  there  is  Pedro  Páramo,  the  "macho," 
the  corrupt  landowner  who  sucks  the  Ufe  and  blood  of  the  people  of  Cómala.  Next, 
there  is  Miguel  Páramo,  one  of  Pedro' s  many  children  throughout  the  town,  who 
embodies  the  worst  passed  down  from  a  macho.  Miguel  is  a  ruthless  man  who 
abuses  women,  and  is  finally  killed  by  his  stallion,  a  symbolic  representation  of  his 
masculinity.  Finally,  there  is  Dorotea  who  like  the  Comalan  women  except  Susana 
San  Juan  feels  unfulfiUed  as  a  woman  unless  she  bears  a  child.  Ironically,  as  Franco 
States,  it  is  these  traditional  myths  that  Uve  on,  while  all  the  people  of  Cómala  have 
passed  away  (350).  Therefore,  the  reader  must  inevitably  conclude  that  the  actual 
book,  in  abstract  terms,  is  a  myth  because  the  characters  from  beginning  to  end  do 
not  exist;  they  are  all  dead  and  they  themselves  represem  a  myth.  In  other  words,  all 


66    Redefining  Epic  and  Novel  through  Rulfo 's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Rivera 's 


of  the  characters  in  Rulfo'  s  Pedro  Páramo  are  dead  from  the  beginning  of  the  book, 
including  Juan  Preciado  who  initiates  one  story  (since  there  are  actually  two 
overlapping  plots)  with  the  search  of  his  father.  Thus,  the  memory  of  myths  serves 
as  a  form  of  ideological  manipulation  and  a  constant  reminder  of  how  the  Comalan 
people  failed  to  question  and  criticize  the  validity  of  deep-rooted  myths  that 
repressed  their  true  spirit. 

These  Mexican  myths  presented  by  Rulfo  are  challenged  by  the  characters  in 
Tomás  Rivera' s  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra.  In  fact,  Rivera  gained  valuable  insight 
from  the  worksofJuan  Rulfo,  especially  his  L/am?en  llamas{\95y).  Tierra  canalso 
be  considered  a  prose  epic  in  that  the  theme  imitates  traditional  epic  form.  Yet, 
Tierra  also  allows  for  the  adaptation  and  redefinition  of  a  social  context;  it  is  this 
repetition  and  reinterpretation  of  ideais  within  a  given  culture,  through  the  actual 
formatof  an  epic,  that  transforms  this  genre  into  acomic  prose  epic."*  This  repetition 
of  motifs  implies  that  there  can  no  longer  exist  any  genres  that  remain  puré.  The 
genre  must  change  and  evolve  because  it  becomes  a  parody.  What  Tierra  presents 
to  the  reader  is,  according  to  Héctor  Calderón,  "a  reformulation  of  the  Mexican- 
mestizo  cultural  world  into  the  beginning  of  a  Chicano  narrative  tradition"  (100). 
Moreover,  as  Calderón  adds,  through  its  natural  unfolding  and  reformulation  into 
narrative,  the  reader  processes  and  comprehends  the  fragmented  and  developing 
culture  of  the  Chicano  in  the  United  States: 

...the  role  of  the  reader  emerges  from  the  gaps  that  must  be  filled 
in  order  to  insure  structural  and  thematic  continuity.Thus  the 
developing  plot  is  explicitly  based  on  a  series  of  changing 
relationships.  That  the  narrative  supplies  instructions  for  this 
process  of  understanding  can  be  grasped  from  the  last  interpo- 
lated  fragment  and  the  final  coUective  moment  in  which  Rivera 
delivers  his  views  on  the  social  function  of  art  as  these  inform  the 
actofreading.  (105) 

The  reader  is  able  to  particípate  in  the  actual  reconstruction  of  the  entire  novel, 
according  to  his/her  own  development.  This  participation  of  the  reader  implies  the 
obligation  to  consciously  recréate  the  reality  that  has  been  presented.  Similar  to 
Cervantes'  Don  Quijote  and  Rulfo' s  Pedro  Páramo,  Tierra  is  a  novel  that  reforms 
and  critiques  reality  (Calderón  1(X)-101).  Therefore,  the  relationship  of  literature 
with  society  is  vital  and  imperative  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader. 

Tierra  's  structure  is  composed  of  fourteen  titled  cuentos  and  thirteen  untitled 
cuadros  with  the  first  and  the  last  cuento  representing  the  framework  for  the  entire 
novel.^  Within  this  framework,  there  are  twelve  cuentos  or  short  stories,  represent- 
ing a  calendar  year,  ali  united  by  the  central  story,  ''Yno  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra."  Also 
present  throughout  the  narrative  are  the  thirteen  brief  cuadros  that  frame  each 
cuento  and  that  also  possess  a  sense  of  unity  and  a  stream-of-consciousness  for  the 
reader.  Most  importantly,  however,  these  archetypal  stories  describe  life  experi- 


Mester,  VoL  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  67 


enees  that  discuss  universal  themes  such  as  man  and  nature,  alienatíon,  love, 
betrayal,  death,  and  a  yeaming  for  community .  Unlike  Rulfo'  s  novel,  the  characters 
in  Tierra  have  not  been  swallowed  up  by  the  earth  and  possess  an  adventurous  spirit. 
In  an  interview  with  Juan  Bruce-Novoa,  Tomás  Rivera  stated  that  he  wished  to 
highlight  forever  the  heroic  quality  of  farmworkers  in  the  Southwest: 

I  felt  that  I  had  to  document  the  migrant  worker  para  siempre 
[forever] ,  para  que  no  se  olvidara  ese  espirítu  tan  fuerte  de  resistir 
y  continuar  under  the  worst  conditions  [so  that  their  very  strong 
spirit  of  endurance  and  will  to  go  on  under  the  worst  of  conditions 
hould  not  be  forgotten],  because  they  were  worse  than  slaves.  El 
esclavo  es  una  inversión  [A  slave  is  an  investment],  so  you 
protect  him  to  keep  him  working.  A  migrant  worker?  You  owe 
him  nothing.  If  he  carne  to  you,  you  gave  him  work  and  then  just 
toldhim  to  leave.  No  investment.  If  he  got  sick,  you  got  rid  of  him; 
you  didn't  have  to  take  care  of  him.  It  was  bad,  labor  camps  and 
ali  that.  (151) 

Through  this  documentation,  the  reader  is  allowed  to  view  the  collective  lives  of 
migrant  workers,  of  Mexican  Americans,  presented  in  a  non-conventional  epic 
style. 

Moreover,  if  one  is  to  apply  the  motif  of  the  hero  archetype,  the  unnamed 
migrant  child,  the  central  protagonist,  stands  alone  as  the  epic  hero  projection  of  his 
working-class  community  of  Mexican- Americans.  This  narrator/protagonist  is  not 
actually  present  in  ali  of  the  stories;  yet,  it  is  his  opening  and  concluding  story 
undemeath  the  house  that  allow  the  novel  to  have  coherence  and  transcendence.  It 
is  during  his  "solitary  confmement"  that  the  unidentified  child  begins  to  piece 
together  the  fragmented,  episodic,  and  puzzling  experiences  that  have  now  shaped 
his  new  ideological  formation  as  a  young  Chicano.  This  new  levei  of  criücal 
consciousness  attained  by  the  protagonist  has  allowed  him  the  freedom  to  question 
the  validity  of  myths,  truths  and  opinions  that  stand  in  the  way  of  his  future 
development: 

Se  sintió  contento  de  pronto  porque  ai  pensar. . .  se  dio  cuenta  de 
que  en  realidad  no  había  perdido  nada.  Había  encontrado. 
Encontrar  y  reencontrar  y  juntar.  Relacionar  esto  con  esto,  esto 
con  aquello,  todo  con  todo.  Eso  era.  Eso  era  todo.  Y  le  dio  más 
gusto.  (169) 

This  ideological  and  spiritual  exploration  is,  ironically,  a  quality  the  characters  of 
Rulfo  failed  to  express  (excluding  Susana  San  Juan).  By  überating  himselfof  myths 
(like  the  myths  of  demons  and  gods)  and  traditional  beliefs  that  continué  to  oppress 
his  people,  the  young  Chicano  realizes  that  if  "There  is  no  devil.  There  is  nothing" 


68    Redefining  Epic  and  Novel  through  Rulfo  's  Pedro  Páramo  and  Rivera  's 


(63).  According  to  Ramón  Saldívar,  this  revelation  allows  the  child  "to  liquídate 
oppressive  idols  and  to  articúlate  the  power  of  self-determination"  (84).  Again,  this 
criticai  awareness  is  not  achieved  by  the  people  of  Cómala.  The  protagonist  in 
Tierra  will  now  be  the  creator  of  his  own  destiny,  and  no  longer  will  he  utilize  a 
sysíem  of  religious  beliefs  that  serve  to  justify  his  state  of  misery  and  oppressive- 
ness. 

Itis  throughoutthis  allegorical  year  that  Tierra  reveáis  the  initiation  of  heroism 
for  the  unnamed  migrant  child.  The  young  Chicano  undergoes  a  series  of  excruci- 
ating  experiences  that  take  him  from  ignorance  and  immaturity  to  a  new  levei  of 
social  and  spiritual  awareness.  Like  the  quest  of  the  traditional  epic  hero,  the 
protagonist  experiences  a  metaphorical  levei  of  separation,  transformation  and 
retum.  In  doing  so,  he  develops  a  higher  levei  of  criticai  consciousness  that  aiiows 
the  child  the  freedom  to  become  an  active  agent  of  resistance  against  the  forces  of 
oppression.  No  longer  will  the  environment,  as  in  Cómala,  domínate  and  control  the 
young  Chicano.  Where  Pedro  Páramo  sends  a  cry  of  despair.  Tierra  offers  a 
message  of  hope  and  heroism  within  the  adventurous  souls  of  its  characters. 

In  Rulfo' s  novel  the  reader  is  abie  to  view  the  demystificaüon  of  what  has 
traditionally  been  viewed  as  an  epic  through  comparison.  Rulfo  has  destroyed  the 
sacred  t>oundaries  of  the  epic  tradition  and  brought  it  cioser  to  the  grasp  of  reaiity . 
In  Pedro  Páramo,  the  reader  is  abie  to  tum  the  epic  upside  down,  expose  it,  play  with 
it,  and  freeiy  examine  and  experimcnt  with  its  nature.  Reaiity,  therefore,  must  now 
be  seen  in  adifferent  light.  Similariy,  when  the  motifs  of  the  epic  are  parodied,  such 
as  in  Tierra,  tiie  reader  must  also  recréate  "reaiity"  and  the  "natural"  present  in  the 
past.  This  unconventional  styie  forces  the  reader  to  examine  the  truthfulness  and 
objectiveness  of  images  presented  in  the  past  as  "real."  Thus,  one  is  led  to  the 
question:  Which  are  the  images  that  present  a  truthful  reflection  of  what  constitutes 
the  real?  The  fears,  struggles  and  hopes  within  the  characters  of  Pedro  Páramo  and 
Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra  answer  this  finai  question  for  the  reader. 

José  R.  López-Morín 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTES 

1 . 1  make  reference  here  to  the  motif  or  theme  of  the  hero  archetype,where  the  patterns  of 
transformation  and  redemption  are  specific  characteristics  associated  with  the  traditional 
interpretation  of  the  epic  hero.  These  heroic  characteristics  are  highlighted  when  the  plots  of 
these  tales  utilize  motifs,  such  as  a  quest  or  an  initiation  process,  which  serve  as  a  testing 
ground  for  a  code  of  heroic  behavior.  The  archetype  of  the  hero  in  Pedro  Paramo,  however, 
is  sub  verted. 

2.  Although  the  term  "novel"  seems  to  be  taken  for  granted  when  used  for  the  classification 
or  categorization  of  a  "book,"  the  term  is  still  relatively  difficult  to  define.  To  simply  state 
that  the  novel  is  an  extended  work  of  fiction,  written  in  prose  does  not  completely  convey  the 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  69 


true  meaning  of  the  word.  I  find  it  more  practical  comparing  this  unique  genre  with  other  fixed 
gerjes.  For  practical  purposes,  however,  1  will  define  the  term  novel  from  the  vantage  point 
that  it  mirrors  contemporary  reality  with  its  diversity  of  speech,  experience  and  constant 
prediction  of  a  future.  With  this  in  mind,  the  novel  reflects  the  tendency  of  a  new  world  stUl 
in  the  making,  and  therefore,  it  cannot  be  classified  as  a  finished  process. 

3.  Frye  describes  satire  as  a  critique  of  heroic  narratives,  as  "a  parody  of  romance"  (223). 

4.  Like  the  plot  of  comedy,  Rivera  is  concerned  with  integrating  the  individual,  the  family, 
and  the  group  into  society  as  a  whole.  See  Frye  on  comedy  (218). 

5.  To  describe  the  brief,  untitled  fragments,  Rivera  used  the  Spanish  term  cuadro. 


WORKS  CITED 

Bakhtin,  Mikhail  M.  "Epic  and  Novel:  Toward  a  Methodology  for  the  Study  of  the  Novel." 

The  Dialogic  Imagination:  Four  Essays.  Ed.  Michae!  Holquist.  Trans.  Caryl 

Emerson  and  Michael  Holquist.  Austin:  University  of  Texas  Press,  1981. 
Bruce-Novoa,  Juan.  Chicano  Authors:  Inquiry  by  Interview.  Austin:  University  of  Texas 

Press,  1980.  137-161. 
Calderón,  Héctor.  "The  Novel  and  the  Contununity  of  Readers:  Rereading  Tomás  Rivera' s 

Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra."  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano 

Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideology.  Ed.  Héctor  Calderón  and  José  David  Saldívar. 

Durham:  Duke  University  Press,  1991.  97-113. 
Franco,  Jean.  An  Introduction  to  Spanish-American  Literature.  Cambridge  University  Press, 

1969. 
Frye,  Northrop.  Anatomy  of  Criticism:  Four  Essays.  Princeton  University  Press,  1957. 
Hayes,  Aden.  "Rulfo's  Counter  Epic:  Pedro  Páramo  and  the  Stasis  of  History."  Journal  of 

Spanish  Studies  Twentieth  Century.  7  (1979):  279-296. 
Rivera,  Tomás.  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra/ And  the  Earth  Did  Not  Part.  Berkeley:  Quinto  Sol 

Publications,  1971. 
Rulfo,  Juan.  Pedro  Páramo.  México:  Fondo  de  Cultura  Económica,  1955. 
Saldívar,  Ramón.  "Beyond  Good  and  Evil:  Utopian  Dialectics  in  Tomás  Rivera  and  Oscar 

Zeta  Acosta." C/i/ca/K?  Narrative:  The  Dialectics  of  Difference.  Madison:  The 

University  of  Wisconsin  Press,  1990. 


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Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  71 


Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca 
Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


Speaking  of  oneself  is  allowed,  when  it  is  necessary,  and  among 
other  necessary  occasions  two  are  most  obvious:  One  is  when  it 
is  impossible  to  silence  great  infamy  and  danger  withoutdoing  so 
...  The  other  is  when,  by  speaking  of  himself,  the  greatest 
advantage  follows  for  others  by  way  of  instruction;  and  this 
reason  moved  Augustine  to  speak  of  himself  in  his  confessions, 
so  that  in  the  progress  of  his  life,  which  was  from  bad  to  good,  and 
from  good  to  better,  and  from  better  to  best,  he  fnmished  example 
and  leaching  which  could  not  have  been  obtained  from  any  other 
equally  truthful  testimony.  (Dante  en  Freccero  2-3) 

I  also  know  that  that  part  which  I  recounted  was  not  the  most 
important.  It  was  made  the  most  important  because  I  fixed  it  in 
words.  And  now  what  am  I?  Not  he  who  lived  but  he  who 
described.  Oh,  the  only  important  part  of  life  is  the  regathering 
[raccoglimento].  (Svevo  en  Fleishman  4). 

I 
Este  trabajo  propone  explorar  la  continuidad  temática  que  existe  en  la  obra  del 
Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  y  Sandra  Cisneros.  Como  observa  Cedomil  Goic  en  su 
Historia  y  Crítica  de  la  Literatura  Hispanoamericana,  "Los  narradores  y  los  poetas 
contemporáneos  [además  de  los  críticos]  establecen  un  diálogo  textual  con  la 
literatura  de  las  crónicas  y  antiguos  poemas  épicos . . ."  (36)  Cita  como  ejemplo  de 
esta  exploración  a  Miguel  Ángel  Asturias,  Alejo  Carpentier,  Julio  Cortázar  y  Carlos 
Fuentes,  entre  otros  (36).  Este  trabajo  no  intenta  proponer  que  la  raíz  de  la  narrativa 
chicana  se  encuentra  en  la  obra  del  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  sino  que  ambos,  el  Inca 
y  Cisneros,  dada  sus  circunstancias  históricas  particulares,  comparten  ciertos 
temas.  El  punto  de  partida  de  este  trabajo  será  la  voz  autobiográfica  que  surge  de  sus 


72  Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilaso  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


respectivas  obras  reflejando  semejantes  preocupaciones. 

Antes  de  proseguir  será  revelador  examinar  dos  artículos  pertinentes  al  intento 
de  este  trabajo.  El  primero  es  el  artículo  de  Roberto  González-Echevarría,  "The  Law 
of  the  Letter:  Garcilaso' s  Commentaries  and  the  Origins  of  the  Latin  American 
Narrative."  El  título  sugiere  que  el  origen  de  la  narrativa  latinoamericana  se 
encuentra  en  los  Comentarios  reales  del  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega.  Pero  González- 
Echevarría,  además  de  crear  una  polémica  sobre  datos  históricos  con  José  Durand  ^ , 
no  cumple  con  su  propuesta.  En  vez  de  explicar  cómo  la  narrativa  latinoamericana 
surge  de  la  obra  del  Inca,  explica  cómo  el  picaro  surge  de  la  retórica  notarial  que 
caracterizaba  toda  la  escritura  del  siglo  XVI  y  de  la  cual  Garcilaso  era  partícipe. 

Al  otro  lado  de  la  frontera,  profundizando  en  la  idea  originalmente  planteada 
por  Luis  Leal,  Juan  Bruce-Novoa,  en  su  artículo  "Naufragios  en  los  mares  de  la 
significación,"  sugiere  que  el  origen  de  la  narrativa  chicana  se  detecta  en  los 
Naufragios  de  Alvar  Núflez  Cabeza  de  Vaca.  Aunque  no  se  desvía  de  su  propuesta, 
como  González-Echevarría,  tampoco  nos  convence  de  ella.  De  hecho,  su  tesis  de 
que  la  alternancia  de  Cabeza  de  Vaca,  la  oscilación  de  su  identidad  entre  español  e 
indígena,  es  símbolo  del  carácter  o  estado  chicano,  es  aplicable  a  un  sin  fin  de 
narraciones  en  donde  el  cautivo  se  identifica  con  su  capturador  y  experimenta  una 
alternancia  en  su  personalidad.  Además,  simpatizar  e  identificar  con  los  indígenas, 
estén  donde  estén,  es  un  acto  hmnano  que  trasciende  razas.  No  es  justo  proponer  que 
la  transformación  en  Cabeza  de  Vaca  es  exclusiva  o  inherente  al  carácter  chicano. 
En  fin,  ninguno  de  los  artículos  logra  articular  lo  que  exactamente  vincula  las  dos 
épocas  literarias. 

Al  proponer  una  continuidad  temática  — diferente  a  trazar  una  continuidad 
directa  entre  crónica  y  narrativa  contemporánea —  nos  podemos  acercar  mucho 
mejor  a  lo  que  González-Echevarría  y  Bruce-Novoa  intuyen  correctamente.  Sí  hay 
una  conexión  entre  la  crónica  y  la  literatura  contemporánea  y,  más  específicamente, 
hay  una  conexión  entre  la  crónica  y  la  narrativa  chicana.  Quizás  la  respuesta  yace 
en  el  elemento  autobiográfico  elaborado  en  ambas  obras  que,  a  su  vez,  traza  un 
proceso  semejante:  la  toma  de  conciencia  que  transforma  al  escritor  y  que  lo  motiva 
a  tomar  pluma  en  mano. 

n 

Los  temas  que  caracterizan  la  obra  del  Inca,  identidad  étnica,  lenguaje, 
escritura  y  conciencia  intelectual,  son,  en  gran  parte,  producidos  por  el  colonialismo 
que  sufre  su  país,  el  Perú.  Dentro  de  éstos  florecen  subtemas  que  reflejan  el  ser 
producto  de  dos  culturas:  el  mestizaje,  el  bilinguismo,  la  recuperación  de  una 
tradición  oral  y  el  dar  testimonio  como  testigo  de  lo  visto  y  vivido.  Estos  temas,  tan 
involucrados  en  el  ser  mismo  del  Inca,  producen  una  voz  autobiográfica  como  única 
solución  al  acercamiento  de  ellos.  Esto  será  verdad  para  Sandra  Cisneros  también. 

Al  equiparar  un  texto  histórico  con  uno  de  ficción  es  necesario  referimos  a  la 
problemática  inherente  en  él.  Como  señala  Hayden  White,  el  punto  de  contacto 
entre  este  tipo  de  comparación  se  erige  en  el  hecho  de  que  la  base  del  discurso 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  73 


histórico  yace  en  los  modelos  literarios  de  la  época.  Para  White,  los  discursos 
narrativos  son  "verbal  fictions,  the  contents  of  which  are  as  much  inventedasfound 
and  the  forms  of  which  have  more  in  common  with  their  counterparts  in  literature 
than  they  have  with  those  in  the  sciences"  (82).  Al  desear  escribir  una  crónica 
histórica,  los  autores  o  historiadores  se  remitían  a  la  literatura  que  circundaba  su 
mundo.  El  Inca,  como  señala  Aurelio  Miró  Quesada  Sosa,  utiüza  varias  fuentes 
literarias,  por  ejemplo,  Alonso  de  Ercilla  y  su  obra  La  araucana  en  La  Florida  en 
especial  aunque  también  en  otras  obras.  José  Durand  ha  hecho  un  estudio  de  la 
biblioteca  de  Garcilaso  en  donde  existen  obras  de  ficción  de  la  época  que  de  algún 
modo  influyeron  en  su  estilo  retórico^.  Según  White,  la  base  común  entre  el  discurso 
histórico  y  el  ficticio  es  lo  que  él  llama  emplotment,  el  proceso  creativo  al  que  se 
somete  un  texto.  Ambos  discursos  están  organizados  en  base  a  una  selección  de 
eventos  y  luego  son  marcados  con  un  tono  narrativo  trágico,  cómico  o  romántico. 
Sólo  hay  que  recordar  que  los  Comentarios  del  Inca,  sobre  todo  la  Historia  general, 
muchas  veces  son  vistos  como  una  historia  trágica. 

Es  importante  subrayar  que  para  el  Inca  fue  imprescindible  aprender  la  retórica 
renacentista  de  su  época.  Este  cronista  depende  de  ella  para  poder  comunicar  su 
ideología  especial  ante  el  público  europeo.  El  Inca  se  ofrece  a  la  Corona  como 
"símbolo  de  su  patria  nativa ...  el  primer  natural  del  Nuevo  Mundo  que  ofrecía  al 
monarca,  no  una  riqueza  material,  sino  un  alto  tributo  de  cultura"  (Quesada  Sosa 
109).  Con  este  proyecto  en  mente,  Garcilaso  no  tuvo  otra  salida  que  escribir  bien: 
"Writing . . .  was  a  form  of  legitimization  and  liberation.  Garcilaso  wrote,  and  wrote 
well,  because  he  was  encouraged  to  do  so  by  the  sociopolitical  context  in  which  he 
grew  up"  (Cjonzález-Echevarría  116). 

Bajo  este  marco  teórico  no  es  irrisorio  considerar  la  obra  del  Inca  junto  con  la 
de  Sandra  Cisneros.  No  sólo  comparten  una  tradición  retórica,  un  deseo  de  escribir 
bien,  sino  el  elemento  autobiográfico  que  sirve  un  propósito  especial. 

En  ambas  obras  hay  dos  voces  narrativas:  la  primera  es  dominante.  En  el  caso 
del  Inca  es  la  voz  del  historiador  que  sirve  de  "comento  y  glosa"  a  las  otras  obras 
históricas.  En  Sandra  Cisneros  es  la  voz  omnisciente  de  la  narradora  de  su  creación 
ficticia.  La  segunda  voz  es  la  autobiográfica  que,  por  su  sutileza,  por  su  calidad 
efímera  a  lo  largo  de  las  obras,  aparenta  estar  subordinada  a  la  primera.  Sin  embargo, 
es  la  segunda  voz  narrativa,  la  personal,  la  íntima,  la  que  logra  narrar  o  construir  la 
identidad  del  autor  y  por  extensión  la  de  su  comunidad.  Estas  dos  voces  se  intercalan 
a  lo  largo  de  la  obra  pero  finalmente  se  unen  en  una  toma  de  conciencia  por  parte 
del  autor  y  su  personaje. 

III 

Los  primeros  años  del  Inca  en  España  son  los  momentos  decisivos  que  lo 
impactan  y  lo  convierten  en  el  escritor  que  se  preocupa  por  crear  una  historia  que 
legitime  a  la  raza  mestiza  no  sólo  en  el  presente  sino  en  el  futuro.  Como  él 
dira,"Porque  en  los  tiempos  venideros,  que  es  cuando  más  sirven  las  historias,  quizá 
holgarán  saber  estos  principios"  (207).  En  el  año  1563,  tres  años  después  de  su 


74  Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilaso  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


llegada  a  España,  el  Inca  experimenta  una  completa  desilusión  al  serle  negada  la 
recompensa  de  su  padre  por  una  difamación  contra  éste  a  causa  de  su  participación 
en  la  batalla  de  Huarina.  Lope  García  de  Castro,  miembro  del  Consejo  Real  de  las 
Indias,  acusa  al  padre  del  Inca  de  haber  traicionado  a  la  Corona  al  darle  su  caballo 
a  Gonzalo  Pizarro  facilitando  así  su  victoria.  En  la  corte,  el  Inca  aprende  que  si  el 
hecho  está  escrito  en  un  libro  es  considerado  parte  de  la  historia  oficial .  Como  le  dice 
García  de  Castro,"Tiénenlo  escrito  los  historiadores  ¿y  queréislo  vos  negar?" 
(Historia  General  216).^  El  impacto  de  este  evento  sobre  el  Inca  es  evidente  en  la 
obra  misma  cuando  el  Incaresponde  con  una  protesta  apasionada  a  los  historiadores, 
ahora  muertos,  que  habían  escrito  sobre  el  suceso: 

digo  que  no  es  razón  que  yo  contradiga  a  tres  testigos  tan  graves 
como  ellos  son,  que  ni  me  creerán  ni  es  justo  que  nadie  lo  haga 
siendo  yo  parte.  Yo  me  satisfago  con  haver  dicho  verdad,  tomen 
lo  que  quisieren,  que,  si  no  me  creeyeren,  yo  passo  por  ello  dando 
por  verdadero  lo  que  dixeron  de  mi  padre  para  honrarme  y 
preciarme  dello,  con  dezir  que  soy  hijo  de  un  hombre  tan 
esforçado  y  animoso  y  de  tanto  valor . . .  (Historia  General  216) 

El  suceso  deja  a  Garcilaso  ante  una  encrucijada  en  su  vida.  Al  serle  negada  una 
herencia  material  le  es  simbóHcamente  negada  su  herencia  paterna.  El  Inca  decide 
que  se  enfrentará  a  este  insulto  en  una  revisión  histórica  de  los  hechos.  El  Inca  no 
sólo  negará  la  acusación  hacia  su  padre  sino  negará  buena  parte  de  la  historia  escrita 
sobre  el  Perú. 

Un  buen  punto  de  partida  para  comprender  mejor  el  impacto  que  este  suceso 
tuvo  sobre  el  Inca  se  encuentra  en  la  transformación  de  su  nombre  propio.'*  La 
autonominalización  en  la  historia  del  Inca  sirve  como  suerte  de  manifiesto  personal 
sobre  su  identidad.  En  el  año  1 563,  ya  en  España,  y  después  de  la  acusación  por  parte 
de  Lope  García  de  Castro  sobre  su  padre,  cambia  su  nombre  de  bautismo,  Gómez 
Suárez  de  Figueroa,  y  adopta  el  nombre  Gómez  Suárez  de  la  Vega.  Cinco  años  más 
tarde  lo  cambia  a  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  (Vamer  225).  Es  este  el  nombre  que  escoge 
para  hacerse  conocer  en  el  mundo  üterario,  a  su  público  europeo.  Más  tarde  añadirá 
el  título  de  el  Inca  o  el  Indio  a  sus  obras.  Desde  el  principio,  "el  Inca  Garcilaso  asume 
la  necesidad  de  explicar  sus  antecedentes,  manifestar  sus  orígenes,  divulgar  quién 
es  él ... "  (Díaz  Ruiz  214).^  La  importancia  de  este  hecho  yace  en  la  relación  directa 
que  el  Inca  concibe  entre  la  escritura  y  la  representación  de  su  ser.  El  hecho  de  que 
sus  libros  serán  firmados  con  el  nombre  Indio  o  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  significa 
que  él  desea  advertir  desde  un  principio  a  su  público  que  él  es  un  mestizo  y  que  se 
honra  de  serlo. 

Para  el  Inca,  el  adoptar  un  nuevo  nombre  significa  un  nuevo  comienzo  y  una 
nueva  responsabilidad.  Él  ahora  se  dedica  a  la  escritura  y  deja  de  lado  con  desilusión 
las  batallas  en  la  corte  por  la  herencia  de  su  padre.  Varias  veces  a  lo  largo  de  los 
Comentarios  dice,  con  melancolía,  cómo  llegó  a  dedicarse  a  la  vida  solitaria  de 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  75 


escribir.  Se  retira  dei  mundo  que  no  lo  reconoce  y  se  dedica  a: 

acogerme  a  los  rincones  de  la  soledad  y  pobreza  donde  (como  lo 
dixe  en  el  proemio  de  nuestra  historia  de  la  Florida)  passo  una 
vida  quieta  y  pacífica,  como  hombre  desengañado  y  despedido 
deste  mundo  y  de  sus  mudanças,  sin  pretender  cosa  del,  porque 
ya  no  hay  para  qué,  que  los  más  de  la  vida  es  passado,  y  para  lo 
que  queda  proveerá  el  Señor  del  Universo,  como  lo  ha  hecho 
hasta  aquí.  Perdónenseme  estas  impertinencias,  que  las  he  dicho 
por  quexa  y  agravio  que  mi  mala  fortuna  en  este  particular  me  ha 
hecho,  y  quien  ha  escrito  vidas  de  tantos  no  es  mucho  que  diga 
algo  de  la  suya.  (Historia  General  216) 

Desde  el  comienzo  de  su  labor,  el  Inca  descubre  que  se  ha  embarcado  en  una 
búsqueda  de  su  "inner  standing,"  término  aplicado  a  las  obras  autobiográficas  y  que 
se  define  como  un  viaje  al  descubrimiento  del  corazón  del  ser  (Fleishman  11).  En 
este  proceso,  "The  life  [o  identidad]  is  represented  in  autobiography  [o  crónica]  not 
as  something  estabhshed  but  as  a  process;  it  is  not  simply  the  narrative  of  the  voyage, 
but  also  the  voyage  itself. . ."  (Fleishman  11).  Así  se  explica  cómo,  de  la  semilla  de 
un  evento  en  específico,  brota  una  historia  extensa  sobre  las  dos  culturas,  la  incaica 
y  la  española,  que  configuran  la  identidad  del  Inca  y  la  comunidad  que  deseará 
servir.  El  Inca  expresa  con  emoción  la  responsabilidad  que  siente  hacia  su  comunidad 
al  declarar:  "mis  parientes,  los  indios  y  mestizos  del  Cuzco  y  todo  el  Perú,  serán 
jueces  de  esta  mi  ignorancia  y  de  otras  muchas  que  hallarán  en  esta  mi  obra; 
perdónenmelas,  pues  soy  suyo,  y  que  sólo  por  servirles  tomé  un  trabajo  tan 
incomportable  como  esto  lo  es  para  mis  pocas  fuerzas  (sin  ninguna  esperanza  de 
galardón  suyo  ni  ajeno)"  (Comentarios  349). 

En  el  capítulo  XV  de  la  primera  parte  de  los  Comentarios,  el  Inca  le  pregunta 
a  su  tío  materno  sobre  la  historia  de  los  Incas.  Este  pasaje  revela  una  vacilación  de 
adjetivos  posesivos  que  muchos  críticos  han  identificado  como  una  vacilación  de 
la  identidad  del  Inca  como  joven  de  dieciséis  o  diecisiete  años.  Pero  el  dominio  del 
Inca  de  la  retórica  era  magnífica.  Su  maestría  se  manifiesta  en  una  preocupación 
hacia  su  lector.  Es  difícil  pensar  que  el  Inca  haya  dej  ado  esta  vacilación  algo  confusa 
de  adjetivos  posesivos  sin  propósito.  Esto  lleva  a  dos  hipótesis  posibles:  1)  el  Inca 
está  tan  inconsciente  de  las  dos  culturas  que  transcurren  en  él  que  no  se  da  cuenta 
de  cómo  privilegia  por  un  instante  la  cultura  incaica  y  por  otro  la  española;  ó  2) 
construye  sus  preguntas  vacilantes  a  propósito  para  indicar  que  todavía  no  tiene 
conciencia  de  su  identidad.  Esta  segunda  hipótesis  se  confirma  con  el  desarollo 
intelectual  que  se  percibe  en  la  segunda  parte  de  los  Comentarios.  En  todo  caso,  lo 
importante  del  pasaje  es  que  la  conversación  oral  entre  el  tío  y  el  joven  Inca  es 
retrospectivamente  recogida  en  la  escritura.  Es  decir,  la  incorporación  de  un  pasado 
oral  se  integrará  a  la  escritura  junto  a  la  presencia  del  Inca  como  niño  o  joven.  Esto 
se  manifiesta  en  la  última  oración  que  el  tío  le  dirige  al  Inca  "Sobrino,  yo  te  las  diré 


76  Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilaso  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


de  muy  buena  gana;  a  ti  te  conviene  oírlas  y  guardarlas  en  el  corazón  (es  frase  de  ellos 
por  decir  en  la  memoria)"  (Comentarios  29).  El  corazón  como  sinónimo  de  lo  oral, 
lo  presente,  la  presencia  de  la  voz  se  transforma  en  la  ausencia  de  la  voz,  la  memoria, 
la  escritura.  El  Inca  se  ofrece  al  trabajo  de  la  escritura  y  señala  que  es  "forzado  del 
amor  natural  de  la  patria"  a  escribir  sus  Comentarios  reales.  Al  adoptar  un  nuevo 
nombre,  el  Inca  adopta  una  nueva  visión  que  incorpore  "la  conservación  de  las 
antiguallas  de  mi  patria,  esas  pocas  que  han  quedado,  porque  no  se  pierdan  del 
todo..."  (Comentarios  290) 

Hemos  visto  que  el  Inca  pasa  por  una  metamorfosis  en  su  vida  personal  que  se 
transmite  luego  en  su  discurso  histórico.  En  su  vida  verdadera  el  impacto  del  caso 
de  la  batalla  Huarina  produce  un  cambio  en  su  ser.  De  este  cambio  se  percata  el  Inca/ 
joven  protagonista  que  aparece  en  varios  lugares  a  lo  largo  de  los  Comentarios 
buscando  contestar  las  preguntas  que  circundan  su  identidad. 

IV 

Al  comparar  al  Inca  con  Sandra  Cisneros  también  se  puede  decir  que  la  autora 
misma  experimenta  una  toma  de  conciencia  en  su  vida  personal  que  la  conduce  a 
escribir.  Al  contrario  de  lo  que  sabemos  sobre  el  Inca,  Cisneros  desde  joven  sabe  que 
desea  escribir,  pero  de  forma  semejante  al  Inca,  le  toma  mucho  tiempo  descubrir  su 
voz.  La  encrucijada  a  la  que  se  enfrenta  el  Inca  es  parecida  a  la  de  Cisneros: 
confluyen  en  el  centro  de  su  ser  cuestiones  políticas,  ideológicas  y  estéticas,  todas 
arraigadas  en  su  identidad  personal .  Cisneros,  al  enfrentarse  a  la  creación  de  una  voz 
poética,  necesita  contestar  preguntas  cruciales:  ¿Cual  es  su  voz,  quién  es  ella,  para 
quién  escribe?  Como  ella  misma  nos  dice  en  un  ensayo  autobiográfico: 

I  did  not  know  I  was  a  Chicana  writer  at  this  time  and  if  someone 
had  labeled  me  thus  I  think  I  would  have  denied  it.  I  did  not  think 
I  was  unusual  or  diiferent  or  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  dominant 
culture.  I  felt  I  was  Mexican,  and  in  some  ways  Puerto  Rican 
because  of  the  neighborhood  I  grew  up  in,  and  I  especially  felt 
American  because  all  the  literature  I  had  read  my  whole  life  was 
mainstream  and  English  the  language  I  wrote  in.  Spanish  was  the 
private  language  of  my  childhood  and  I  only  spoke  it  with  my 
father.  ("Sandra  Cisneros"5) 

El  Inca  sentía  semejante  ambivalencia  en  tomo  a  su  identidad  a  su  llegada  a  España. 
Antes  de  que  se  le  negara  la  recompensa  de  su  padre  es  posible  que  ambicionaba  una 
vida  cómoda  integrada  a  la  cultura  dominante.  Pero  en  el  momento  que  cambia  su 
perspectiva  él  también  necesita  contestar  preguntas  que  tienen  que  ver  con  su  propia 
identidad. 

Para  Sandra  Cisneros  la  importancia  de  su  identidad  le  es  revelada  en  la 
escritura.  Para  ella  la  escritura  es  la  voz  franca,  honesta,  inescapable  que  le  dice  si 
ella  está  mintiéndose.  En  el  lowa  Writer' s  Workshop  Cisneros  escribe  al  principio 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  77 


con  una  voz  ajena  a  ella.  La  búsqueda  de  su  propia  voz  toma  tiempo.  Como  el  Inca, 
ella  se  retira  dei  mundo  por  una  época: 

In  this  search  for  a  voice  I  became  withdrawn  again  as  in  my 
former  days.  I  became  quiet  and  introverted  and  insecure  among 
non-Third  World  people,  a  stigma  which  I  have  not  to  this  day 
completely  shaken  off.  .  .  It  was  not  until  this  moment  when  I 
separated  myself,  when  I  considered  myself  truly  distinct,  that 
my  writing  acquired  a  voice.  I  began  to  write  a  series  of  autobio- 
graphical  sketches  . . .  This  is  how  The  House  on  Mango  Street 
was  bom  . . .  ("Sandra  Cisneros"  61) 

La  vida  personal  de  Cisneros  se  entremezcla  con  su  personaje  principal, 
Esperanza,  en  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  Al  principio  ella  niega  todo  lo 
relacionado  con  su  identidad:  su  casa,  su  nombre,  su  familia.  Al  final,  ya  madura, 
asume  la  responsabilidad  de  ser  la  transmisora  de  lo  olvidado.  Al  comienzo  de  la 
obra  la  conciencia  de  Esperanza  es  inocente.  Aunque  se  le  revela  la  importancia  de 
la  escritura,  Esperanza  no  entiende  las  implicaciones  de  ello.  En  el  fragmento  "Bom 
Bad,"  una  tía  de  Esperanza  le  dice:  "You  just  remember  to  keep  writing,  Esperanza. 
You  must  keep  writing.  It  will  keep  you  free,  and  I  said  yes,  but  at  that  time  I  didn't 
know  what  she  meant"  (61).  El  Inca  también  señala  que  en  su  juventud  no 
comprendía  la  importancia  de  los  testimonios  orales  que  escuchaba.  En  varias 
ocasiones  Garcilaso  lamenta  no  haber  escuchado  las  historias  del  pasado  incaico  y 
español  con  mayor  atención  al  decir:  "y  yo,  como  digo,  las  oí  de  mis  mayores, 
aimque  (como  muchacho)  con  poca  atención,  que  si  entonces  la  tuviera  pudiera 
ahora  escribir  otras  muchas  de  grande  admiración,  necesarias  en  esta  historia.  Diré 
las  hubiera  guardado  la  memoria,  con  dolor  de  las  que  he  perdido"  {Comentarios  10) 

En  un  fragmento  titulado  "My  Ñame,"  Esperanza  juega  y  fantasea  con  cambiar 
su  nombre.  Aunque  esto  aparenta  ser  un  juego  inocente  está  cargado  de  significado 
para  la  identidad  de  la  chicana  contemporánea.^  Esperanza,  como  el  Inca  en  su 
exégesis  lingüística,  exphca  los  varios  significados  de  su  nombre:  Aunque  en  inglés 
significa  "hope,"  algo  positivo,  en  español,  para  Esperanza,  significa  una  cultura 
que  ella  no  desea  heredar  por  la  subordinación  de  la  mujer.  Aquí  vemos  que,  al 
contrario  del  Inca  y  su  transformación  nominal,  Esperanza  busca  un  nombre  que  la 
separe  de  una  posible  identificación  con  una  parle  de  su  cultura,  la  mexicana.  Como 
nos  dice  sobre  su  abuela,  de  quien  Esperanza  hereda  su  nombre:  "I  have  inherited 
hername,butIdon'twanttoinheritherplacebythewindow"(ll).Nodeseaheredar 
la  parte  de  la  cultura  que  oprime  la  libertad  de  un  individuo.  El  nombre  que 
Esperanza  desea  adoptar,  Zeze  the  X,  es  un  nombre  totalmente  ajeno  a  su  cultura 
pero  que,  en  la  opinión  de  Esperanza,  revelaría  su  verdadero  ser.  Ella  nos  dice,  "I 
would  like  to  baptize  myself  under  a  new  ñame,  a  ñame  more  like  the  real  me,  the 
one  nobody  sees"  ( 1 1 ).  El  nombre  "Zeze  the  X"  es,  en  esta  etapa  de  su  desaroUo,  uno 
que  define  los  primeros  esbozos  de  su  "inner  standing."  Al  final  de  la  obra  este  deseo 


78  Conciencia  \  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilüso  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


de  ciicoiitnir  un  noinhrc  "more  like  üie  real  me"  se  eneonirará  en  la  escritura. 

Píira  la  cultura  acepiadit.  dominaiiie.  cíunbiar  el  nombre  no  afecta  lo  interior  del 
ser.  Pero,  ueneralmenie.  píira  un  grupo  ómieo,  el  cambio  de  nombre  es  un  rito  que 
se  manifiesta  o  en  el  recha/o  del  ser  o  en  la  liberación  del  ser,  como  lo  sería  para 
lispenui/a.  1-nconirar  la  annonía  en  un  nombre,  como  lo  hace  el  Inca,  es  encontrar 
la  annonía  interior. 

¿Cuál  es  la  metiunorlósis  que  conlleva  a  la  toma  de  conciencia  de  Esperanza? 
Al  igual  que  (iíirci laso.  Cisneros  misma  es  receptora  de  las  historias  de  la  gente  de 
su  comunidad,  lín  una  enia'vista  Cisneros  revela  acerca  de  la  confección  de  su 
novela  The  House: 

ITiey 're  all  stories  1  lived,  or  witnessed,  or  heard;  slories  that  were 
told  lo  me.  1  collected  ihose  stories  and  arranged  them  in  an  order 
.so  ihey  would  be  clear  and  cohesive.  Because  in  real  life,  there's 
no  order. . .  Some  of  those  stories  unfortunately  happened  to  me 
just  like  that.  Some  of  the  stories  were  my  sludent's  when  I  was 
a  counselor;  women  would  conñde  in  me  and  I  was  so  over- 
whelmed  with  my  inabiliiy  to  correct  their  lives  that  I  wrote  about 
them.  íRcxlrígue/  Aranda  64-65) 

Este  sentimiento  lo  transmite  a  su  personaje  Esperanza  quien  es  receptora  y 
partícipe  de  las  historias  de  su  barrio.  Ella,  al  igual  que  el  Inca,  escucha  la  rabia  y 
la  desesperación  de  la  gente  de  su  comunidad.  Como  el  joven  Garcilaso  que  escucha 
la  desolación  de  los  últimos  incas.  Esperanza  jamás  se  olvida  de  estas  voces  y 
reconocerá  que  será  su  deber  ü-ansmitir  la  historia  de  los  suyos  al  mundo. 

Finalmente,  Esperanza,  ya  más  madura,  se  da  cuenta  de  la  importancia  del  rol 
de  la  escritura  en  la  formación  de  su  identidad.  En  un  fragmento  titulado  "The  Three 
Sisters,"  una  de  sus  tías  le  dice: 

When  you  leave  you  must  remember  to  come  back  for  the  others. 
A  circle,  understand?  You  will  always  be  Esperanza.  You  will 
always  be  Mango  Street.  You  can't  erase  what  you  know.  You 
can't  forget  who  you  are  . . .  You  must  remember  to  come  back. 
For  the  ones  who  cannot  leave  as  easily  as  you.  (105) 

Es  interesante  notar  la  influencia  de  los  parientes  en  ambos  escritores.  Ellos  dicen 
claramente  que  estos  jóvenes  serán  la  generación  futura  que  asumirá  la  responsabilidad 
de  una  nueva  identidad  personal  y  colectiva.  Esperanza  tomará  este  consejo  en  serio 
y  su  regreso  se  manifestará  en  el  acto  de  escribir.  Ella  dice  "They  will  not  know  I 
have  gone  away  to  come  back.  For  the  ones  I  left  behind.  For  the  ones  who  cannot 
ouf'dlO). 

En  conclusión,  hemos  ofrecido  los  elementos  que  reflejan  una  continuidad 
temática  entre  nuestros  escritores  mestizos,  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  y  Sandra  Cisneros. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  79 


Sus  proyectos,  aunque  separados  por  siglos  y  por  la  ideología  de  sus  respectivas 
épocas,  representan  una  semejanza  singular.  Ambos  experimentan  una  toma  de 
conciencia  que  conlleva  al  acto  de  la  escritura.  Su  escritura  está  informada  por  la  voz 
autobiográfica  que  revela  preocupaciones  de  identidad  propia  y  colectiva.  Ambos 
se  dan  cuenta  de  que  sus  propias  vidas  no  tienen  importancia  de  por  sí  para  la  historia 
pero  al  ser  incorporadas  en  un  discurso  histórico  o  ficticio,  en  la  escritura,  cobran 
autoridad.  De  esta  manera  el  raccogUmento  de  las  memorias  es  el  método  de 
fecundar  sus  discursos  para  que  perduren  y  sean  vigentes  en  un  futuro  próximo. 

Bridget  Kevane 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTAS 

1 .  El  artículo  de  José  Durand  que  responde  al  de  González- Echevarría  se  titula  "En  tomo  a 
la  prosa  del  Inca  Garcilaso". 

2."La  Biblioteca  del  Inca"  incluye  tales  autores  conocidos  como:  Mateo  Alemán,  Femando 
de  Rojas,  Dante,  Ariosto,  Petrarca  y  Séneca. 

3.  Para  un  estudio  detallado  sobre  el  impacto  de  este  evento  en  el  Inca  se  puede  recurrir  a  la 
biografía  de  John  Grier  Vamer,  El  Inca:  The  Life  and  Times  of  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  en 
específico  el  Capítulo  X,  Parte  I. 

4.  Aunque  para  algunos  críticos  especular  sobre  la  alteración  del  nombre  del  Inca  es  "asunto 
muy  traído"  ("En  torno  a  la  prosa"  215),  creo  que  es  importante  señalarlo  en  el  contexto  de 
este  trabajo.  El  cambio  de  nombre  es  representativo  de  la  lucha  pública  y  privada  del 
individuo  y  su  representación  en  la  sociedad  en  que  vive.  Por  eso  es  interesante  notar  la 
conexión  entre  el  Inca  y  su  cambio  de  nombre  y  el  cambio  de  nombre  del  autor  judío  Judah 
Abarbanal  a  León  Hebreo  cuya  obra,  Dialoghi  di  Amore,  el  Inca  traduce  al  castellano.  El 
cambio  de  nombre  siempre  ha  sido  un  acontecimiento  importante  en  la  historia  de  un 
individuo. 

5.  Es  importante  destacar  que  aunque  es  en  los  Comentarios  reales,  parte  I  y  11,  donde 
generalmente  se  ubica  la  construcción  de  una  identidad,  la  obra  completa  del  Inca  desde  los 
Diálogos  de  amor,  incluyendo  a  la  Relación  de  la  descendencia  de  Garcí  Pérez  de  Vargas 
hasta  la  Historia  General  anticipa  este  proyecto.  Incluso,  la  contemplación  de  sólo  los 
prólogos,  vistos  como  un  conjunto,  ofrecen  una  suerte  de  manifiesto  personal  sobre  la 
identidad  del  Inca:  quién  es  el  Inca,  de  dónde  viene,  a  quién  se  dirige  y  cuál  es  su  propósito. 
También  es  interesan  te  notar  la  transformación  literaria  delinca  que  va  desde  unarecopUación 
genealógica  a  una  traducción  de  la  obra  de  León  Hebreo,  a  servir  como  etoógrafo  del 
testimonio  oral  de  Gonzalo  Süvestre,  hasta  finalmente  llegar  a  su  "propia"  obra. 

Se  podría  trazar  similar  transformación  en  la  obra  literaria  de  Sandra  Cisneros.  EUa  también 
se  sirve  de  los  prólogos  como  anuncio  de  un  proyecto  especial.  The  House  on  Mango  Street 
es  dedicada  a  las  mujeres.  Su  última  obra,  Woman  Hollering  Creek,  es  dedicada  a  dos  pai^fÉs 
de  su  ser;  a  su  madre  "who  gave  me  the  fierce  language"  y  a  su  padre  "quien  me  dio  el  lenguaje 
de  la  ternura"  Finalmente,  la  obra  completa  es  dedicada  a  "mi  querido  público"  y  a  la  "Virgen 


80  Conciencia  y  escritura  en  el  Inca  Garcilaso  y  Sandra  Cisneros 


de  Guadalupe  de  Tonantzín".  Como  es  sabido.  El  Inca  dedica  su  Historia  General  a  la 
"Limpíssima  Virgen". 

6.  La  manera  en  que  Cisneros  se  nominaliza  fluctúa.  En  "A  Paríial  Autobiography"  se  llama 
una  chicana.  En  la  entrevista  citada  se  llama  "a  Mexican  woman."  En  el  MLA  del  año  1992 
en  Nueva  York  prefirió  llamarse  latina.  En  un  ensayo  reciente  sobre  ella  en  el  New  York 
Times,  Cisneros  dice,  "I  am  a  Latina"  y  explica  que  "'Hispanic'  is  English  for  a  person  of 
Latino  origin  who  wants  to  be  accepted  by  the  white  status  quo.  Latino  is  the  word  we  have 
always  used  for  ourselves"  (Tabor  CIO).  La  fluctuación  refleja  una  preocupación  por 
representarse,  como  en  el  Inca,  con  exactidud.  Por  otro  lado,  es  importante  señalar  que  ambos 
términos  — chicano  y  latina —  han  sido  objetos  de  continuos  debates  políticos  sobre  la 
identidad  y  subsiguiente  representación  de  ser  hispano  y  americano  en  los  Estados  Unidos. 


OBRAS  CITADAS 

Bruce  Novoa,  Juan.  "Naufragios  en  los  mares  de  la  significación."  Plural,  xiv-v,  221  (1990): 

12-21. 
Cisneros,  Sandra.  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1984. 
.  "Sandra  Cisneros."  Partial  Autobiographies:  Interviews  with  Twenty  Chicano 

Poets.  Ed.  Wolfgang  Binder.  Erlangen:  Verleg  Palm  &  Enke  Erlangen,  1985. 

.  Women  Hollering  Creek  and  Other  Stories .  New  York:  Random  House,  1991. 

Durand,  José.  "^LdihihíioX&cdiàcllncai.''  NuevaRevistade  FilologíaHispánica.  3  (1948):  239- 

264. 

— .  "En  torno  a  la  prosa  del  Inca  Garcilaso."  Nuevo  texto  crítico,  2, 1  (1988):  209-227. 

Fleishman,  Avrom.  Figures  of  Autobiography:  The  Language  ofSelf-Writing  in  Victorian 

and  Modem  England.  Berkeley:  University  of  California  Press,  1983. 
Freccero,  John.  Dante:  The  Poetics  of  Conversión.  Cambridge:  Harvard  University  Press, 

1986. 
González-  Echevarría,  Roberto.  "The  Law  of  the  Letter:Garcilaso's  Commentaries  and  the 

Originsof  the  Latin  American  Narrati  ve."  The  Yole  Journal  ofCriticism.  1  (1987): 

107-131. 
Quesada  Sosa,  Aurelio  Miró.  El  Inca  Garcilaso  y  otros  estudios  garcilasistas.  Madrid: 

Ediciones  Cultura  Hispánica,  1971. 
Rodríguez  Aranda,  Pilar  E.  "On  the  Soütary  Fate  of  Being  Mexican,  Female,  Wicked  and 

Thirty  Three:  An  Interview  with  Writer  Sandra  Cisneros."  The  Américas  Review. 

18  (1990):  64-80. 
Tabor,  Mary  B.W.  "A  Solo  Traveler  in  Two  Worlds."  New  York  Times  7  Jan.  1993:  Cl  -CIO. 
Vamer,  John  Grier.  El  Inca:  The  Life  and  Times  of  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega.  Austin  and  London: 

University  of  Texas  Press,  1968. 
Vega,  El  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la.  Comentarios  reales.  México:  Editorial  Porrua,  1990. 

.  Historia  general  del  Perú.  Barcelona:  Sopeña,  1972. 

White,  Hayden.  Tropics  of  Discourse:  essays  in  cultural  criticism.  London:  The  John 

Hopkins  University,  1990. 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994}  81 


Frontera  Crossings: 
Sites  of  Cultural  Contestation' 


Where  the  transmission  of  "national"  traditions  was  once  the 
major  theme  of  world  literature,  perhaps  we  can  now  suggest  that 
transnational  histories  of  migrants,  the  colonized,  or  politicai 
refugees — these  border  and  frontier  conditions — may  be  the 
terrains  of  worid  literature. 

Homi  Bhabba,  "The  Worid  and  the  Home"  (1992) 

In  an  influential  manifesto,  "La  Cultura  Fronteriza,"  published  in  La  Línea 
Quebrada/The  Broken  Line,  Guillermo  Gómez-Peña  theorized  the  \ians-frontera 
urban  galaxy  of  Tijuana  and  San  Diego  as  a  new  social  space  filled  with  multicultural 
symbologies.  Though  perhaps  too  steeped  in  postslructuralist  playfulness  (at  the 
expense  of  multicultural  work),  Gómez-Peña  nevertheless  hit  upon  one  of  the 
central  truths  of  our  Borderland  culture:  the  ext&ndeá  frontera  culture  stretching 
from  the  shanty  barrios  of  Tijuana  and  San  Diego  to  the  rich  surf  and  turf  of  Santa 
Barbara  (dominated  by  the  megaspace  of  Los  Angeles  in  the  middle)  is  an  enormous 
"desiring  machine".^  Such  a  notion  of  \hQ  frontera  as  a  real  zone  with  flows  and 
interruptions,  crossings  and  deportations,  liminal  transitions  and  reaggregations,  is 
fundamental  to  my  reading  of  U.S .  border  writing,  for  it  will  permit  us  to  travei  along 
different  routes  other  than,  say,  the  "Sunshine  or  Noir"  and  "Black  or  White"  master 
dialectics  thematized  in  Mike  Davis's  City  ofQuartz:  Excavating  the  Future  in  Los 
Angeles.  While  this  is  not  the  place  to  attempt  a  complete  definition  of  U.S.  border 
writing,  the  po  wer  of  this  formulation  as  de  veloped  by  Chicano  and  Chicana  writers 
is  that  it  allows  us  to  challenge  nativist  "Seal  the  Border"  campaigns  in  California 
and  the  Southwest  which  feature  so-called  illegal  ahens  as  invading  puré  national 
or  cultural  spaces .  U.S .  border  writing,  thus  envisaged,  allows  us  to  begin  remapping 
the  national  imaginary  in  more  global  terms. 

The  two-thousand  mile-long  U.S. -México  border,  without  doubt,  produces 
millions  of  undocumented  workers  from  Central  America  and  México  who  are 
essential  to  North  American  agriculture'  s,  tourism'  s,  and  maquiladora  's  economic 


82  Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Contestation 


machines.  The  border  thus  not  only  produces  masses  of  agricultural  fannworkers, 
low-tech  laborers  (mostly  women),  dishwashers,  gardeners,  and  maids,  but  a 
military-like  apparatus  of  INS  helicopters,  Border  patrol  agents  with  infrared 
camera  equipment  used  to  track  and  capture  the  border  crossers  from  the  South,  and 
detention  centers  and  jails  designed  to  protect  the  Anglocentric  minority  in 
California  who  fear  and  even  loathe  these  scores  of  indocumentados.  Moreover,  this 
desiring  machine  also  comprises  an  enormous  bureaucratic,  pohtical,  cultural,  and 
legal  machine  of  coyotes  (border  crossing  guides  for  hire),  pollos  (pursued  undocu- 
mented  border  crossers),  fayuqueros  (food  peddlers),  sacadineros  (border  swin- 
dlers),  cholos/as  (Chicano/a  urban  youth),  notary  publics,  public  interest  lawyers, 
public  health  workers,  and  so  on,  a  huge  "juridical-administrative-therapeutic  state 
apparatus"  (JAT) — to  use  Nancy  Fraser's  coinage  (154).2 

What  matters  here  for  our  purposes  is  that  the  U.S. -México  border  apparatus 
constructs  the  subject-positions  exclusively  for  the  benefits  of  the  North  American 
juridical-administrative-therapeutic  state:  juridically,  it  positions  the  migrant  bor- 
der crossers  vis-a- vis  the  U.S.  legal  system  by  denying  them  their  human  rights  and 
by  designating  them  as  "illegal  aliens";  administratively,  the  migrant  border 
crossers  who  desire  anmesty  must  petition  a  bureaucratic  institution  created  under 
the  1986  Immigration  Reform  and  Control  Act  (IRCA)  to  receive  Identification 
papers  (including  a  social  security  card);  and,  fmally,  therapeutically,  migrant 
border  crossers  in  their  shantytowns  in  canyons  throughout  California  have  to 
grapple  with  various  county  Health  Departments  and  the  Environmental  Health 
Services  offices.  For  instance,  at  one  shantytown  called  El  Valle  Verde  (Green 
Valley)  in  San  Diego  County,  the  Environmental  Health  Services' s  director  shut 
down  the  migrant  border  crossers  camp  "for  violations  dealing  with  lack  of  potable 
water  for  drinking,  building-code  violations,  fecal  materiais  on  the  ground"  (cited 
in  Chávez),  and  so  on. 

In  what  follows,  I  will  analyze  Helena  María  Viramontes'  s  "The  Cariboo  Cafe" 
(1985)  as  an  astonishing  example  of  U.S.  border  writing.  In  broad  strokes, 
Viramontes' s  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  follows  an  anonymous  washer  woman's  forced 
migrations  from  an  unnamed  Central  American  pueblo  (where  the  military  has 
disappeared  her  five-year-old  son)  to  Juárez,  México,  where  she  crosses  the  border 
without  documentation  into  the  United  States,  and  finally  makes  her  way  to  Los 
Angeles,  where  she  phantasmatically  continues  searching  for  her  missing  child.  In 
less  than  fifteen  pages,  Viramontes  gives  her  readers  a  complex,  passionate  story 
about  the  cultures  of  fear  simultaneously  present  both  in  Central  America  (the 
govemment's  torture  of  subversives)  and  in  Los  Angeles  (the  govemment's 
unleashing  of  the  INS  and  the  LAPD  on  undocumented  workers),  and  how  the 
marginalized  washer  woman  uses  her  subaltem  position  to  reclaim  what  Jean 
Franco,  elsewhere,  has  called  the  new  social  "polis."^  Once  on  the  mean  streets  of 
Los  Angeles,  Viramontes's  protagonist  tums  the  Anglo- American  owned  Cariboo 
Cafe  into  an  arena  of  cultural  contestation  by  substantially  altering  material 
tradition  in  the  Américas,  casting  herself  both  as  new  cultural  citizen  and  as  a  pan- 


Mester,  Vol.  xaH,  No.  2  (Fali  1993)  &  Voi  xj(iii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  83 


Latina  Llorona  (wailing  woinan).  thus  aJigning  hcrself  wiih  Mexican  and  Chicana 
new  social  movemcnts.'* 

If  "ali  machines  have  ihcir  mastercíxles,"  as  Antonio  Bcnítcz-Rojo  suggested 
in  a  different  conicxt  ( 17).  whai  are  lhe  ccxlelxx^ks  to  the  cultural  machines  of  this 
Chicana  Border  wriíer?  What  networks  of  sulxxxles  hold  togcther  Viramontes's 
multicultural  work  of  art?  What  are  lhe  central  rituais,  ceremonies,  and  ideologies 
in  the  texts  of  the  transfrontier  "coniact  /one"  (scc  l*ratt)?  And  finally,  what  are  the 
benefits  of  examining  U.S.  Borderland  texts  as  cultural  praclices  with  institutional 
implications  for  (multi)cultural  and  criticai  legal  studies? 

To  begin  answering  some  of  ihese  questions.  I  want  to  continue  examining 
"The  CarilxK)  Cafe."  by  1  lelena  Viramontes.  c(H)rdinator  of  lhe  Los  Angeles  Latino/ 
a  Writers  Association  and  fonner  liíerary  editor  oíXismeane  magazine.  I  empha- 
size  Viramontes's  institutional  gn^unding  as  c(K>rdinator  and  editor  in  Los  Angeles 
because  il  is  an  unsettling  íact  ihat  ali  kh)  often  U.S.  Latino/a  writers  are  omitted 
from  intelleciual  surveys  and  literary  histories,  líven  sympathelic,  New  Left 
surveys  exploring  the  role  playcd  hy  waves  of  migrations  of  intellectuals  to  Los 
Angeles— from  Charles  1".  Lummis  ;ijid  ITicodor  Adonio  lo  (^arey  McWilliams — 
such  as  Mike  Davis's  supcrb  City  ofQuanz  schemati/es  his  intelleciual  history  in 
exclusively  raciali/ed  black  and  white  tenns,  or  in  linear  F.asi  and  West  global 
mappings.*'  Like  the  scores  of  gardencrs  with  iheir  bnxims  and  blowers  working  ali 
over  California,  is  not  il  about  time  that  we  swecp  away  once  and  for  ali  this 
Manichean  consiruction .'  Might  not  a  sweeping.  even  crude,  transnational  South- 
North  mapping  (using  liic  interprctive  powcr  of  liminality)  be  more  appropriate? 

Anihropological  discussion  of  migrant  border-crossers  as  "liminals"  can  be 
said  to  begin  with  Leo  Cháve/'s  expcrimeni;il  eilinography.  Sliadowed  Lives: 
Undocumented  Imnugrants  in  American  Soaetw  where  he  describes  migrant 
border  crossing  as  "u^ansitional"  phases  in  the  tlirec-step  pr(Kess  of  ritual  initiation. 
Relying  and  elaboraiing  on  Aniold  van  (ieiinep's  Rites  of  Passage  and  Victor 
Tumer's  The  Ritual  Process,  Chave/  tnices  the  interstitial  siages  migrant  border 
crossers  from  both  México  íuid  Ceiund  America  make  in  their  joumeys  to  Lhe  U.S. 
Borderlands.  While  Chave/,  perhaps.  overemphasi/es  "lhe  transilion  people  un- 
dergo  as  they  leave  lhe  migrant  lile  and  instead  selüe  in  lhe  Uniied  States"  (4),  we 
could  indeed  extend  his  scnsitive  reading  of  liminality  by  adding  a  synchronic 
dimensión  to  lhe  concept  of  liminality  as  Victor  Tunier  suggesied.  For  Tumer  (as 
pui  forth  by  Gustavo  Póre/  linnal).  "liminality  should  be  kxíked  upon  not  only  as 
a  transition  belwecn  statcs  but  as  a  state  in  itself.  for  liíere  exist  individuais,  groups, 
or  scKial  categories  for  which  the  "liminar'  momeni  lums  imo  a  permanent 
condilion"  (viii-xiv). 

A  liminal  reading  of  Vinunontes's  "The  CaribtH) Cafe"  ihemali/ing  the  ritual 
process  thus  would  emphasi/e  both  a  temporal,  pnKessual  view  with  a  topo-spatial 
supplementaüon.  Seen  in  this  lighl,  "llie  Carilxx)  Cafe"  is  built  upon  a  series  of 
múltiple  border  crossings  and  multilayered  transiiions  that  an  undocumented 
migrant  washer  woman  undergoes  as  she  moves  from  the  South  into  the  North. 


84  Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Conte stat ion 


Foremost  among  the  transi tions  ihematized  in  Viramontes's  story  are  the  actual 
border  crossings  the  washer  woman  makes,  for  crossing  both  \he  frontera  del  sur 
in  Central  America  and  the  U.S. -México  border  without  documentation  is  what 
anthropologist  Chávez  sees  as  the  "monumental  event"  of  many  migrant  border 
crossers'  Uves  (4). 

Like  many  undocumented  migrant  workers,  the  washer  woman  in  Viramontes'  s 
text  gathers  resources  and  funding  from  her  family  and  extended  community  (her 
nephew  Tavo  sells  his  car  to  send  her  the  money  for  a  bus  ticket  to  Juárez,  México), 
for  crossing  the  múltiple  border  apparatus  with  its  extended  machines  of  coyotes, 
sacadineros,  and  fayuqueros  is  a  fmancially  exorbitant  undertaking.  Fundamen- 
tally,  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  allegorizes  hemispheric  South-North  border  crossing  in 
terms  anthropologists  such  as  Chávez  see  as  emblematic  of  undociunented  border 
crossers  in  general:  "a  territorial  passage  tJiat  marks  the  transition  from  one  way  of 
life  to  another"  (4).  As  an  exemplary  border  crossing  tale,  then,  we  can  initially  map 
"The  Cariboo  Cafe"  in  Chávez' s  temporal,  ritualistic  terms:  it  moves  (in  a  non- 
linear  narrative)  through  the  phases  of  separation,  liminality,  and  (deadly) 
reincorporation.  Viramontes  throughout  her  disjunctive  narrative  privileges  the 
everyday  experiences  (the  rituais  of  separation  and  liminality)  the  washer  woman 
must  face  as  she  traveis  from  her  appointments  with  legal  authorities  in  Central 
America  (the  military  has  tortured  and  "disappeared"  her  five-year-old  son)  to  the 
actual  border  crossings  and  her  final  searches  (together  with  two  Mexican  undocu- 
mented children  Sonya  and  Macky)  for  sanctuary  at  a  Borderland's  cafe.  The 
Cariboo  Cafe,  but  whose  sign  symbolically  reads  as  the  "oo  Cafe,"  for,  "the  paint's 
peeled  off '  (64)  except  for  the  two  o's.^  In  other  words,  while  anthropologists  such 
as  Chávez  see  the  border  "limen"  as  threshold,  for  Viramontes  it  is  a  hved  socially 
symbolic  space. 

But  why  does  Viramontes  represent  the  border  limen  in  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  as 
position  and  not  as  threshold?  The  reasons  for  this  are  complex,  but  one  reason  is 
that  the  washer  woman,  like  the  majority  of  undocumented  migrants  in  the  U.S., 
never  acquires  what  Chávez  calis  "links  of  incorporation — secure  employment, 
family  formaüon,  the  establishment  of  credit,  capital  accumulation,  competency  in 
English"  which  will  allow  her  to  come  into  fuU  cultural  and  legal  citizenship  (5).  Not 
surprisingly,  the  washer  woman  in  the  story  remains  a  "marginal"  character  whom 
the  Anglo- American  manager  and  cook  of  the  "zero  zero"  cafe  crudely  describes  as 
"short,"  "bad  news,"  "street,"  "round  face,"  "bumt  toast  color,"  and  "black  hair  that 
hands  like  straight  rope"  (65).  Given  such  racist  synecdochic  views  of  undocu- 
mented migrant  border  crossers  as  "othemess  machines"  (see  Suleri  105),  blocked 
from  ever  altaining  full  cultural  and  legal  citizenship,  why  did  the  Central  American 
washer  woman  migrate  to  the  U.S.  Borderlands?  What  narrative  strategies  did 
Viramontes  use  to  represent  the  washerwoman's  shifting  and  shifty  migrations? 

The  first  quesüon  is  easier  to  answer  than  the  second  While  the  majority  of 
undocumented  border  crossers  from  México  migrate  to  the  U.S.  for  economic 
reasons  and  a  desire  for  economic  mobility  (often  doing  so  for  generations  and  thus 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  85 


seeing  migration  as  family  history),  migration  from  Central  America  as  Chávez 
emphasizes  is  a  "relatively  recent"  phenomenon  and  is  closely  related  to  the 
Reagan-Bush  war  machine  in  support  of  "contras"  in  El  Salvador,  Nicaragua,  and 
Guatemala.^  Viramontes' s  washer  woman  thus  migrates  from  her  unnameá pueblo 
in  Central  America  to  escape  from  the  politicai  strife  waged  on  Amerindians  and 
mestizos/as,  and  more  phantasmatically  (given  her  post-traumatic  stress  syndrome) 
to  continue  searching  for  her  five-year-old  son: 

These  four  walls  are  no  longer  my  house,  the  earth  beneath  it,  no 
longer  my  home.  Weeds  have  replaced  ali  good  crops.  The 
irrigation  ditches  are  clodded  with  bodies.  No  matter  where  we 
tum  ...  we  try  to  Uve  ...  under  the  rule  of  men  who  rape  women, 
then  rip  their  bellies ...  (T)hese  men  are  babes  farted  out  from  the 
Devil'sass.  (71) 

Displaced  by  civil  war,  defeated  by  debilitating  patriarchy  (what  Viramontes 
straightforwardly  sees  as  "the  rule  of  men"  who  have  been  "farted  out  from  the 
Devil's  ass"),  and  deranged  by  the  murder  of  her  son,  the  washer  woman  migrates, 
in  stages,  to  the  U.S.  exiQnded frontera  to  flee  from  guerrilla  activity.  Once  across 
the  U.S.-Mexican  border,  she  will  work  "illegally"  at  jobs  that,  for  the  most  part, 
legal  Americans  disdain:  "The  machines,  their  speed  and  dust,"  she  says,  "make  me 
ill.  But  I  can  clean.  I  clean  toilets,  dump  trash  cans,  sweep.  Disinfect  the  sinks"  (72). 
These  múltiple  border  crossing  rites  of  passage,  however,  are  not  narrated  in  a 
traditional  realist  fashion.  Rather,  the  totality  of  Viramontes 's  story  is  scrambled  in 
three  sepárate  sections,  with  each  narrating  the  washerwoman's  and  the  two 
undocumented  Mexican  children'  s  shifting,  interstitial  experiences.  The  decentered 
aesthetic  structure  of  Viramontes'  s  text  has  elicited  the  most  fanciful  and  controver- 
sial  attention  from  Uterary  critics.  Sónia  Saldívar-Hull,  for  example,  suggests  that 
Viramontes  "crafts  a  fractured  narrative  to  reflect  the  disorientation  that  the 
inmiigrant  workers  feel  when  they  are  subjected  to  life  in  a  country  that  controls 
their  labor  but  does  not  value  their  existence  as  human  beings"  (223).  Likewise, 
Barbara  Harlow  elegantly  argües  that  the  politicai  content  of  Viramontes' s  text 
merges  (in  strong  dialectical  fashion)  with  the  tale' s  aesthetic  form:  "Much  as  these 
refugees  transgress  national  boundaries,  victims  of  politicai  persecution  who  by 
their  very  International  mobility  challenge  the  ideology  of  national  borders  and  its 
agenda  of  depoliticization  in  the  interest  of  hegemony,  so  too  the  story  refuses  to 
respect  the  boundaries  and  conventions  of  literary  criticai  time  and  space  and  their 
discipUning  of  plot  genre"  (152).  In  other  words,  for  Saldívar-Hull  and  Harlow, 
Viramontes'  s  experimental  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  challenges  both  the  arbitrariness  of 
the  nation-state'  s  borders  and  the  institutionalized  mobilizations  of  literary  conven- 
tions such  as  plot  structure,  space  and  time;  moreover,  Viramontes  süikingly 
represents  the  washer  woman  confined  to  what  Abdul  J.  JanMohamed  has  termed 
"the  predicament  of  border  intellectuals,  neither  motivated  by  nostalgia  for  some 


86  Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Contestation 


lost  or  abandoned  culture  ñor  at  home  in  this  ...  culture"  (102). 

If  disjunctive  separation,  liminality,  and  reaggregation  are  the  central  cultural 
rituais  performed  in  "The  Cariboo  Cafe,"  then  it  is  hardly  surprising  that  rhetorically 
and  tropologically  Viramontes  relies  heavily  on  prolepsis  (flashforwards)  and 
analepsis  (flashbacks)  to  structure  the  tale.  It  begins  in  media  res  with  a  near- 
omniscient  narrator  situating  readers  about  the  reaüties  of  migrant  border  crossing 
separation:  "They  arrived  in  the  secrecy  of  the  night,  as  displaced  people  often  do, 
stopping  over  for  a  week,  a  month,  eventually  stay  ing  a  Ufe  time"  (61).  From  the  very 
beginning,  liminality  is  thematized  not  as  a  temporary  condition  of  the  displaced  but 
as  a  permanent  social  reality, 

Given  that  both  of  Macky's  and  Sonya'  s  parents  work  (undocumented  workers 
are  rarely  on  welfare),  the  children  are  instructed  to  follow  three  simple  rules  in  their 
urban  galaxy :  "never  talk  to  strangers";  avoid  what  their  father  calis  the  "polie,"  for 
the  pólice  he  wamed  them  "was  La  Migra  in  disguise";  and  keep  your  key  with  you 
at  all  times — the  four  walls  of  the  apartment  were  the  only  protection  against  the 
Street"  (61).^  But  Sonya,  the  young,  indocumentada,  loses  her  apartment  key. 
Unable  to  find  their  way  to  a  baby-sitter's  house,  Sonya  and  Macky  begin  their 
harrowing  encounter  and  orbit  with  \he  frontera  's  urban  galaxy,  what  Viramontes 
lyrically  describes  as  "a  maze  of  alleys  and  dead  ends,  the  long,  abandoned 
warehouses  shadowing  any  hght ...  boarded  up  boxcars  [and]  rows  of  rusted  rails" 
(63).  Looming  across  the  shadowed  barrioscape,  "like  a  beacon  light,"  the  children 
see  the  sign  of  "oo"  cafe. 

Without  any  traditional  transitional  markers,  section  two  tells  in  a  working- 
class  (albeit  bigoted)  vernacular  of  an  Anglo- American  cook  the  lurid  story  of  the 
undocumented  workers'  experiences  at  the  Cariboo  Cafe,  especially  those  of  the 
washer  woman,  Sonya  and  Macky.  Situated  in  the  midst  of  garment  warehouse 
factories  where  many  of  the  undocumented  border  aossers  labor,  the  zero  zero  cafe 
functions  as  an  apparent  safehouse  where  many  of  the  workers  can  get  away  from 
the  mean  streets  of  Los  Angeles.  On  an  initial  reading,  however,  it  is  not  at  all  clear 
how  the  brave,  new  transnational  family  of  the  washer  woman,  Sonya  and  Macky 
met,  or  why  they  are  now  together  at  the  cafe.  AU  we  know  is  reflected  through  the 
crude  testimonial  narrative  of  Üie  manager:  "I'm  standing  behind  the  counter  staring 
at  the  short  woman.  Already  I  know  that  she's  bad  news  because  she  looks  street  lo 
me ...  Funny  thing,  but  I  didn'  t  see  the  two  kids  'tiU  I  got  to  the  booth.  AU  of  a  sudden 
I  see  the  big  eyes  looking  over  Üie  table's  edge  at  me.  It  shook  me  up  ..."  (65-66). 

Viramontes,  of  course,  shakes  things  up  a  bit  more  by  describing  another  of  the 
underclass's  predicament  of  culture,  Paulie's  overdose  at  the  cafe:  he  "O.D.'s"  in 
the  cafe's  "crapper;  vomit  and  shit  are  all  over  ...  the  fuckin'  walls"  (67).  Not 
surprisingly,  the  inmiense  border  machine  shifts  into  high  gear.  "Cops,"  the  cook 
says,  are  "looking  up  my  ass  for  stash"  (67),  and  later  on  "green  vans  roU  up  across 
the  Street ...  I  see  all  these  illegals  running  out  of  the  factory  to  hide ...  three  of  them 
run[ning]  into  the  Cariboo"  (67).  Given  the  events  of  the  day,  section  two  ends  with 
the  cook  teUing  us:  "I  was  all  confused  ..."  (68). 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  87 


Having  moved  through  separation  and  liminality  in  the  first  sections, 
Viramontes's  denouement  (section  three)  provides  readers  with  what  we  may  cali 
a  phantasmatic  folklale  of  (deadly)  reincorporation.  Slipping  in  and  out  of  stream 
of  consciousness  derangement,  the  narrator  explains:  "For  you  see,  they  took 
Geraldo.  By  mistake,  of  course.  It  was  my  fault.  I  shouldn't  have  sent  him  out  to 
fetch  me  a  mango"  (68).  Eventually  the  washer  woman  filis  in  the  gaps  to  the  earlier 
sections:  when  Geraldo  failed  to  retum,  she  is  hurled  into  the  spatiality-time  of 
night,  for  "the  darkness  becomes  a  serpent  tongue,  swallowing  us  whole.  It  is  the 
night  of  La  Llorona"  (68). 

With  this  reference  to  La  Llorona,  readers  famiUar  with  one  of  Greater 
México' s  most  powerful  folktales,  can  begin  to  make  sense  of  the  tale's  freakish 
entanglements.  Though  the  washer  woman  tells  us  in  her  own  fraught  logic  how  she 
"finds"  Geraldo  in  Macky  ("I  jumped  the  curb,  dashed  out  into  the  street ...  [and] 
grab[bed]  him  because  the  earth  is  crumbhng  beneath  us"  (72)),  reader's  acquainted 
with  the  legend  of  La  Llorona  know  even  as  they  do  not  know  that  the  wailing 
washer  woman  will  surely  find  her  children  at  the  C^boo  Cafe.  Thus  using  and 
revising  La  Llorona  legend  to  produce  cultural  simultaneity  in  the  Américas 
(uniting  Central  American  and  North  American  Borderiand  [post]  colonial  history), 
Viramontes  allows  us  also  to  hear  the  deep  sürrings  of  the  wailing  woman.  Recalling 
the  history  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  Américas  share — ^a  legacy  of  500-years  of 
Spanish  conquest  and  resistance — the  legend  of  La  Llorona  creeps  into  the  zero  zero 
place  of  Chicana/o  fiction:  "The  cook  huddles  behind  the  counter,  frightened, 
trembling  ...  and  she  begins  screaming  enough  for  ali  the  women  of  murdered 
children,  screaming,  pleading  for  help"  (74).  But  why  is  the  cook  so  frightened? 
Why  do  males  "tremble"  in  La  Llorona' s  presence? 

As  anthropologist  José  E.  Limón  suggests,  La  Llorona,  "the  legendary  female 
figure"  that  dominates  the  cultures  of  Greater  México,  is  a  "distinct  relative  of  the 
Medea  story  and ...  a  syncretism  of  European  and  indigenous  cultural  forms"  (59). 
While  various  interpreters  of  La  Llorona  have  not  accorded  her  a  resisti ve,  utopian, 
and  liminal  history  (viewing  her  as  a  passive  and  ahistorical  creature).  Limón 
systemtacially  takes  us  through  what  he  calis  the  "génesis  and  formal  definition  of 
this  legend,"  arguing  that  "La  Llorona  as  a  symbol ...  speaks  to  the  course  of  Greater 
Mexican  history  and  does  so  for  women  in  particular"  (74). 

As  far  back  as  Fray  Bernardino  de  Sahagún's  chronicle  of  the  New  World, 
Historia  general  de  las  cosas  de  Nueva  España,  La  Llorona,  Limón  writes, 
"appeared  in  the  night  crying  out  for  her  dead  children"  (68).  Moreover,  for  our 
purposes,  Sahagún's  chronicle  collected  and  recorded  indigenous  Amerindians's 
narrations  telling  their  tale  of  loss:  "At  night,  in  the  wind,  a  woman' s  voice  was 
heard.  'Oh  my  children,  we  are  now  lost!'  Sometimes  she  said,  'Oh  my  children, 
where shalll take you ?'"  (SahagúncitedinCastañeda-Shular98)  In later colonial 
versions  (as  reported  by  Francés  Toor),  the  legend  incorporales  other  forms:  a  lower 
class  woman  is  betrayed  by  an  upper-class  lover  who  has  fathered  her  children.  She 
then  kills  the  children  and  walks  crying  in  the  night.^ 


88  Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Conte station 


In  Limón' s  utopian  reading.  La  Llorona' s  "insane  infanticide"  can  be  said  to 
be  a  "temporary  inssaiity  producedhistorically  by  tkose  who  socially  domínate"  (his 
emphasis  86).  Seen  in  this  historical  light,  that  Viramontes'  s  wailing  washer  woman 
grieves  and  searches  for  her  lost  child  (finding  Geraldo  in  her  kidnapping  of  Macky) 
is  not  something  that  is  produced  inherenüy  but  rather  produced  by  the  history 
which  begins  with  Cortés' s  conquest  of  México.  If  all  children  of  loss  in  the 
Américas  (produced  by  Euro-imperialism)  are  also  children  of  need,  they  are  also 
what  Limón  sees  as  potentially  "grieving,  haunting  mothers  reaching  for  their 
children  across  fluid  boundaries"  (my  emphasis  87).  We  may  now  be  in  a  better 
position  to  understand  why  the  manager  of  the  Cariboo  Cafe  is  so  frightened  by  the 
washer  woman/La  Llorona.  In  her  act  of  infanticide.  La  Llorona  "symbolically 
destroys,"  what  Limón  argües  is  "the  familial  basis  for  patriarchy"  (76). 

Nevertheless,  in  Viramontes' s  hands.  La  Llorona/washer  woman  offers  her 
readers  a  startling  paradox:  while  her  folktale  in  section  three  always  suggests  the 
symbolic  destruction  of  patriarchy — represented  in  the  washerwoman's  fight  to  the 
death  with  the  pólice  at  the  story's  end — ,  there  also  remains  the  washerwoman's 
utopian  desire  to  fulfill  the  last  stage  of  her  territorial  rite  of  passage,  namely,  her 
dream  of  incorporation,  or  better  yet,  what  Debra  Castillo  justly  calis  the 
washerwoman's  "project[ed] ...  dream  of  re-incorporation,  of  retuming  her  new- 
bom/rebom  infant  to  her  womb"  (91).  Viramontes  writes: 

She  wants  to  conceal  him  in  her  body  again,  retum  him  to  her 
belly  so  that  they  will  not  cástrate  him  and  hang  his  small,  blue 
penis  on  her  door,  not  crush  his  face  so  that  he  is  unrecognizable, 
not  bury  him  among  the  heaps  of  bones,  of  ears,  and  teeth,  and 
jaws,  because  no  one,  but  she,  cared  to  know  that  he  cried.  For 
years  he  cried  and  she  could  hear  him  day  and  night."  (74) 

Like  Rigoberta  Menchú,  the  exiled  Quiche  Indian  woman  who  was  awarded  the 
Nobel  Peace  Prize  in  1992,  the  washer  woman  (even  in  her  abject  soütude)  fmally 
becomes  an  eloquent  symbol  for  indigenous  peoples  and  victims  of  govemment 
repression  on  both  sides  of  the  South-North  border.  When  confronted  in  the  zero 
zero  cafe  by  the  Los  Angeles  Poüce,  "with  their  guns  taut  and  cold  like  steel 
erections"  (74),  the  washer  woman  resists  them  to  the  bitter  end  rather  than  unplug 
her  dream  of  an  incorporated,  transnational  family:  "I  will  fight  you  all  because 
you're  all  farted  out  of  the  Devil's  ass ...  and  then  I  hear  something  crunching  like 
broken  glass  against  my  forehead  and  I  am  blinded  by  the  liquid  darkness"  (75). 
Our  subject  here  has  been  the  multicultural,  intercultural  and  transnational 
experiences  of  migrant  border  crossers  from  the  South  into  the  North  represented 
as  acomplex  series  of  traversing  and  mixing,  syncretizing  and  hybridizing.  As  both 
Leo  Chávez  and  Helena  Viramontes  emphasize  in  their  narratives,  migrant  Border 
Crossing  cultures  are  often  formed  under  powerful  economic  and  poütical  con- 
straints.  Like  the  Black  British  diasporic  cultures  of,  say,  Stuart  Hall  (Jdentity)  and 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  89 


Paul  Gilroy  (There  Ain  't  No  Black  in  the  Union  Jack),  U.S.  Border  cultures  share 
what  James  Clifford  has  described  as  a  "two-sidedness,  expressing  a  deep  dystopic/ 
utopian  tensión.  They  are  constituted  by  displacement  "under  varying  degrees  of 
coerción,  often  extreme"  (6).  And  as  Chávez  and  Viramontes  adamantly  argue, 
migrant  Border  crossing  cultures  represent  altemative  interpretive  conmiunities 
where  folkloric  and  postnational  experimental  narratives  can  be  enunciated.  What 
is  finally  remarkable  about  Viramontes' s  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  is  that  borders — as 
Barbara  Harlow  suggested — "become  bonds  among  peoples,  rather  than  the  articu- 
lation  of  national  differences  and  the  basis  for  exclusión  by  the  collaboration  of  the 
United  Statesand  [Central  American]  regimes"  (1 52).  In  other  words,  in  Viramontes's 
"zero  zero  place"  a  worlding  of  world  historical  events  has  erupted — from  Cortés'  s 
Euro-imperialism  to  Reagan-Bush's  wars  in  Central  America — and  their  coming  to 
the  Américas  was  embodied  in  the  haunting,  resisting  figure  of  La  Llorona. 
Viramontes's  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  is  an  emergem  multicultural  story  to  pass 
through  the  entangled  borders  of  world  hterature. 


José  David  Saldívar 

University  of  California,  Berkeley 


NOTES 


*  An  earlier  versión  of  this  essay  was  delivered  at  the  Presidential  Fórum  organized  by 
President  Houston  A.  Baker,  Jr.,  for  the  Modern  Language  Association  National  Convention, 
New  York,  Dec.  28,  1992. 1  would  like  to  thank  Houston  A.  Baker,  Jr.,  Henry  Louis  Gates, 
Jr.,  Sara  Suleri,  Juanita  Heredia  and  Héctor  Calderón — ali  of  whom  helped  in  the  preparation 
of  this  essay. 

1 .  Using  Gilíes  Deleuze  and  Félix  Guattari's  famous  concept  of  the  machine  in  their  Anti- 
Oedipus. ,  Guillermo  Gómez-Peña  envisioned  a  radical  rereading  of  the  U.S. -México  border 
as  an  ensemble  of  desiring  machines.  See  also  Emily  D.  Hicks's  "Deterritorialization  and 
Border  Wriüng"  (1988). 

2.  Nancy  Fraser's  term,  "juridical-administrative-state  apparatus,"  echoes  Louis  Althusser's 
phrase,  "ideological  state  apparatus,"  in  'Ideology  and  Ideological  State  Apparatuses:  Notes 
Towards  an  Investigation."  In  general  Fraser'  s  J  AT  can  be  understood  as  a  subclass  of  an  ISA, 
and  this  is  how  I  am  using  it  in  this  essay. 

3.  See  Jean  Franco's  superb  "Going  Public:  Reinhabiting  the  Prívate." 

4.  For  more  on  this  cultural  and  legal  re-definition  of  citizenship,  see  Renato  Rosaldo's 
"Cultural  Citizenship:  Attempting  to  Enfranchise  Latinos."  Rosaldo  uses  cultural  citizenship 
"both  in  the  legal  sense  (one  either  does  or  does  not  have  a  document)  and  also  in  the  familiar 
sense  of  the  spectrum  from  fuU  citizenship  to  second-class  citizenship"  (7);  he  uses  the  term 
cultural  "to  emphasize  the  local  people's  own  descriptions  of  what  goes  into  being  fuUy 
enfranchised"  (7).  Also  relevant  here  is  Gerald  P.  López's  "The  Work  We  Know  So  Little 


90  Frontera  Crossings:  Sites  of  Cultural  Conte station 


About." 

5.  Even  at  the  mass-mediated  level,  the  national  press  rarely  mentions  Latinos/as  when 
discussing  race  relations  and  urban  problems.  As  Gerald  P.  López  writes,  "when  people 
visualize  the  goings-on  in  this  country  they  most  often  don'  t  even  seem  to  see  the  25  million 
or  so  Latinos  who  live  here  ( 1 2)".  Thus,  it  is  hardly  surprising,  López  notes,  that  "we  Latinos 
haven't  made  it  onto  some  list  of  nationally  prominent  folks — in  this  case,  it's  "THE 
NEWSWEEK  100"  of  cultural  elite ...  Having  no  Laünoson  the  NEWSWEEK  üstnüghtnot 
get  under  our  skin  were  it  not  so  utterly  familiar."  See  López' s  "My  Tum,"  in  Newsweek. 

6.  According  to  Debra  Castillo,  "What  tends  to  drop  out  of  sight  ...  is  ...  the  Carib,  the 
indigenous  element  that  waits,  another  hidden  layer  of  writing  on  the  scratched  surf  ace  of  the 
palimpsest,  the  unrecognized  other  half  of  the  backdrop  against  which  the  transients  shuffle, 
and  suffer,  and  die.  What  remains  undefined  is  the  nameless  act  of  violence  that  has 
suppressed  the  Carib,  as  well  as  the  outline  of  the  form  the  history  of  its  repression  might 
take"  (81). 

7.  As  Leo  Chávez  suggests,  "While  migrants  may  not  sever  family  ties,  those  ties  are  stretched 
across  time,  space,  and  national  boundaries"  (119). 

8.  According  to  legal  scholar  Gerald  López,  "Data  strongly  suggest  that  only  one  to  four 
{jercent  of  undocumented  Mexicans  take  advantage  of  public  services  such  as  welfare, 
unemployment  benefits,  food  stamps,  AFDC  benefits  and  the  like;  that  eight  to  ten  percent 
pay  Social  Security  and  income  taxes;  that  the  majority  do  not  file  for  income  tax  refunds; 
that  all  contribute  to  sales  taxes;  and  that  at  least  some  contribute  to  property  taxes"  (636). 
See  López' s  fine  monograph,  "Undocumented  Mexican  Migration:  In  Search  of  a  Just 
Immigration  Law  and  Poücy." 

9.  Francés  Toor,  A  Treasury  of  Mexican  Folkways. 


WORKS  CITED 


Althusser,  Louis.  Lenin  and  Philosophy  and  Other  Essays.  Trans.  Ben  Brewster.  London: 

New  Left  Books,  1971. 
Benítez-Rojo,  Antonio.  The  Repeating  Island:  The  Caribbean  and  the  Postmodem  Perspec- 
tive. Trans.  James  E.  Maraniss.  Durham:  Duke  University  Press,  1992. 
Bhabha,  Homi  K.  "The  World  and  the  Home."  Social  Text  31-32  (1992):  141-153. 
Castañeda  Shular,  Antonia,  Tomás  Ybarra-Frausto  and  Joseph  Sommers,  eds.  Literatura 

Chicana:  Texto  y  Contexto.  Englewood  Cüffs,  NJ:  Prentice  Hall,  1972. 
Castillo,  Debra.  Talking  Back:  Towards  a  Latin  American  Feminist  Literary  Criticism. 

Ithaca:  Corne  11  University  Press,  1992. 
Chávez,  Leo  R.  Shadowed  Lives:  Undocumented  Immigrants  in  American  Society.  New 

York:  Harcourt  Brace  Jovanovich,  1992. 
Clifford,  James.  "Borders  and  Diásporas."  Unpublished  manuscript,  1992.  Cited  with 

permission  of  the  author. 
Davis,  Mike.  City  ofQuartz:  Kxcavating  the  Future  in  Los  Angeles.  London:  Verso,  1990. 
Deleuze,  Gilíes,  and  Félix  Guattari.  Anti-Oedipus:  Capitalism  and  Schizophrenia.  Trans. 

Robert  Hurley,  Mark  Seem,  and  Helen  R.  Lane.  New  York:  Viking  Press,  1977. 
Franco,  Jean.  "Going  Public:  Reinhabiting  the  Prívate."  On  Edge:  The  Crisis  ofContenipo- 

rary  Latin  American  Culture.  Ed.  George  Yúdice,  Juan  Flores  and  Jean  Franco. 

Minneapolis:  University  of  Minnesota  Press,  1992.  65-83. 


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Fraser,  Nancy.  Unruly  Practices:  Power,  Discourse,  and  Gender  in  Contemporary  Social 

Theory.  Minneapolis:  University  of  Minnesota  Press,  1989. 
Gilroy,  Paul.  There  Ain't  No  Black  in  íhe  Union  Jack:  The  Cultural  Politics  ofRace  and 

Nation.  Chicago:  University  of  Chicago  Press,  1991. 
Gómez-Peña,  Guillermo.  "La  cultura  fronteriza:  Un  proceso  de  negociación  hacia  la  utopía." 

La  Línea  Quebrada  1(1986):  1-6. 
Hall,  Stuart.  "Cultural  Identity  and  Diáspora."  Identity:  Community,  Cultural,  Difference. 

Ed.  Jonathan  Rutherford.  Lx)ndon:  Lawrence  and  Wishart,  1990.  222-237. 
Harlow,  Barbara.  "Sites  of  Struggle:  Immigration,  Deportation,  and  Prison."  Criticism  in  the 

Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideology.  Ed.  Héctor 

Calderón  and  José  David  Saldívar.  Durham:  Duke  University  Press,  1991.  149- 

163. 
Hicks,  Emily  D.  "Deterritorialization  and  Border  Writing."  Ethics/Aesthetics:  Post-Modem 

Positions.  Ed.  Robert  Merill.  Washington,  EXÜ:  Maisonneuve  Press,  1988.  47-58. 
JanMohamed,  Abdul  R.  "Worldliness-without-World,  Homelessness-as-Home:  Toward  a 

Definition  of  the  Specular  Border  Intellectual."  Edward  Said:  A  Criticai  Reader. 

Ed.  Michael  Sprinkler.  Oxford:  Blackwell  Press,  1992.  74-95. 
Limón,  José  E.  "La  Llorona,  theThird  LegendofGreater  México:  Cultural  Symbols,  Women 

and  the  Politicai  Unconscious." Renato  Rosaldo  Lecture  Series,  Monograph  2.  Ed. 

Ignacio  M.  García.  University  of  Arizona,  1986.  59-93. 
López,  Gerald  P.  "Undocumented  Mexican  Immigration:  In  Search  of  a  Just  Law  and 

Poücy."  C/CLA  Law  i?ev/ew  28.4  ( 198 1):6 16-714. 

-.  "The  Work  We  Know  So  Little  About."  Stanford  Law  Review  42.1  ( 1989):  1-13. 

.  "My  TMrn."  Newsweek  Nov.  2,  1992:12. 

Pérez  Firmal,  Gustavo.  Literature  and  Liminality:  Festive  Readings  in  the  Hispanic  Tradi- 

tion.  Durham:  Duke  University  Press,  1986. 
Pratt,  Mary  Louise.  Imperial Eyes:  Travei  Writing  andTransculturation.  London:  Routledge, 

1992. 
Rosaldo,  Renato.  "Cultural  Citizenship:  Attempting  to  Enfranchise  Latinos."  La  Nueva 

Visión.  Stanford  Center  for  Chicano  Research  1.2  (1992):7. 
Saldívar-HuU,  Sonia.  "Feminism  on  the  Border:  From  Gender  Politics  to  Geopolitics." 

Dissertation,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  1990. 
Suleri,  Sara.  Meatless  Days.  Chicago:  University  of  Chicago  Press,  1989. 
Toor,  Francés.  A  Treasury  of  Mexican  Folkways.  New  York:  Bonanza  Press,  1985. 
Tumer,  Victor.  The  Ritual  Process:  Structure  and  Anti-Structure.  Chicago:  Aldine,  1969. 
Van  Gennep,  Arnold.  Rites  ofPassage.  Trans.  Monika  B.  Vizedom  and  GabrieUe  L.  Caffee. 

Chicago:  University  of  Chicago  Press. 
Vlramontes,  Helena  María.  The  Moths  andOtherStories.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1985. 


Literary  Journal  of  the  Gradúate  Students  of  the 

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Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  <&.  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  93 


Down  These  City  Streets:  Exploring 

Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered 

and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


Nicholasa  Mohr  and  Sandra  Cisneros  exemplify  new  voices  in  their  respective 
Latino  literary  traditions  by  addressing  the  topic  of  urban  space  from  a  Latina 
feminist  perspective.  Mohr  was  among  the  first  Nuyorican  writers  in  üie  1970s  to 
examine  the  role  of  women  of  Puerto  Rican  background  in  their  social  environment 
in  üie  United  States,  specifically  New  York  City.  Unlike  her  Nuyorican  male 
counterpart.  Piri  Thomas,  Mohr  observes  the  space  of  the  home  to  understand  how 
that  ambience  influences  young  girls  in  public.  She  does  not  recover  one-dimen- 
sional  and  stereotyped  Latina  female  protagonists  in  a  life  of  crimes,  drugs,  and 
prostitution  the  way  many  male  writers  portray  them.  Rather,  she  carefully  pen- 
etrates  the  interior  worlds  of  the  women  who  lead  ordinary  as  opposed  to  escapade 
lives.  She  traces  how  young  Nuyorican  girls  move  and  cope  with  obstacles  in  their 
urban  world  in  íiqt  El  BronxRemembered(l975).  In  areveaUng  essay  "The  Joumey 
Towards  a  Common  Ground,"  Mohr  discusses  the  value  of  her  work  in  discovering 
new  characters  and  voices  in  the  represen tation  of  Puerto  Rican  women.  She  asks: 

Where  was  my  own  mother  and  aunt?  And  ali  those  valiant 
women  who  lef t  Puerto  Rico  out  of  necessity ,  for  the  most  part  by 
themseives  bringing  small  children  to  a  cold  and  hostile  city. 
They  came  with  thousands  of  others,  driven  out  by  poverty,  ill- 
equipped  with  httie  education  and  no  knowledge  of  EngUsh.  But 
they  were  determined  to  give  their  children  a  better  life  and  the 
hope  of  a  future.  This  is  where  I  had  come  from,  and  it  was  these 
women  who  became  my  héroes.  When  I  looked  for  role  models 
that  symbolized  strength,  when  I  looked  for  subjects  to  paint  and 
stories  to  write,  I  had  only  to  look  at  my  own.  (83) 

Sandra  Cisneros,  in  tum,  represents  one  of  the  first  Chicana  writers  in  the  1980s 
who  speaks  to  the  transitional  situation  of  young  Chicana/Latina  women  who  cross 


94        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


the  borders  of  the  domesüc  sphere  into  the  city  streets.  Unlike  many  Chicano  male 
writers  before  her,  Cisneros  depicts  female  protagonists  who  struggle  between  the 
home  and  the  desire  to  escape  that  domestic  space.  Like  Mohr,  she  prefers  to 
illustrate  women  as  people  who  need  to  be  heard  and  understood,  subjects  in  their 
own  right.  Cisneros  also  understands  a  woman's  need  to  realize  that  she  has 
opportunities  beyond  those  of  her  home  such  as  a  university  educaüon.  In  The 
House  on  Mango  Street  (1984),  the  character  of  Esperanza  becomes  aware  of  her 
abilities  to  move  through  urban  spaces  physically  and  symboücally,  a  new  perspec- 
tive in  U.S.  Latina  literature.  What  is  more  importan t,  this  female  protagonist  is 
breaking  boundaries  with  the  patriarchal  paradigm  set  up  for  young  girls  within 
traditional  Latino  culture.  Cisneros  pays  homage  to  the  woman  who  wishes  to 
control  and  organize  her  own  life  as  well  as  those  who  offer  a  conmiunity  of 
emotional  support.  In  a  relevant  essay  "Unveiling  Athena,"  the  feminist  critic 
Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry  points  out  to  the  importance  of  Cisneros'  portrait  of 
Chicanas.  She  states: 

She  makes  women  the  central  focus  of  the  narrative  and  presents 
a  firmly  centered  female  protagonist  who  acts,  not  as  the  Other  of 
a  male  protagonist  but,  rather,  as  a  subject  who  dares  to  confront 
lies  and  to  deconstnict  myths.  Mothers  and  virgins  are  certainly 
still  present,  as  are  women  content  in  their  role  of  the  Eternal 
Feminine,  but  these  are  viewed  with  a  criticai  eye.  Are  they  the 
only  roles  available  to  Chicanas?  What  price  have  women  paid 
for  protection  and  dependency?  (43) 

Social  Context 

In  El  Bronx  Remembered,  Nicholasa  Mohr  sets  her  narrative  in  the  post- World 
War  n  period  when  waves  of  Puerto  Rican  immigrants  began  to  form  Nuyorican 
communities  in  the  United  States.  At  a  crucial  moment  in  Nuyorican  history,  these 
Latino  migrants  discover  Anglo- American  culture,  predominantly  European,  with 
much  conflict.  During  this  time,  most  Nuyoricans  come  from  a  racially  mixed, 
working-class  background,  a  factor  which  makes  them  objects  of  racial,  linguistic, 
and  class  discrimination.  In  addition  to  feeling  unwelcome,  Nuyoricans  must  live 
in  limited  housing  situations,  be  they  tenements  in  barrios.  Latino  neighborhoods, 
or  other  forms  of  cultural  spatial  boundaries.  Segregation  serves  as  a  basis  for  ali  of 
Mohr's  stories  in  El  Bronx  Remembered.  She  addresses  a  specific  place.  El  Bronx, 
to  recount  her  stories  and  show  the  effects  that  these  living  conditions  have  on 
Nuyorican  people,  particularly  on  women. ^ 

While  El  Bronx  Remembered  is  devoted  to  the  different  stories  of  people  who 
form  part  of  the  Nuyorican  community  after  World  War  H,  in  Tfie  House  on  Mango 
Street,  Sandra  Cisneros  organizes  the  voices  of  the  Chicano/Latino  community 
around  a  central  character  Esperanza  in  Chicago  of  the  late  1960s.  Like  the  Bronx 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Voi  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  95 


context,  the  Latino  characters  in  this  neighborhood  are  bilingual,  working-class, 
and  primarily  young  girls  at  a  transitory  stage.  Historically  speaking,  different 
Latino  cultures-Chicano,  Mexican,  Puerto  Rican--are  coming  into  contact  with 
each  other  in  the  urban  space  as  they  move  around  to  find  a  home  during  this  radical 
time  of  the  1 960s.2  Interestingly  enough,  this  cultural  history  also  coincides  with  the 
world-wide  feminist  movements  that  empowered  women.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
Cisneros  continues  to  explore  this  U.S.  Latina  feminist  literary  consciousness  in  an 
urban  context  in  the  1960s  that  Mohr  had  already  initiated  in  the  1940s.  Despite  the 
fact  that  these  women  authors  come  from  different  national  backgrounds  and 
histories,  they  share  an  interest  in  the  way  their  female  protagonists  of  Latin 
American  heritage  combat  similar  problems  of  racism,  class  conflict  and  patriarchy 
in  an  American  city  context.  Cisneros'  and  Mohr's  texts  develop  this  urban  Latina 
feminist  awareness  in  the  young  Esperanza  and  Nuyorican  protagonists. 

Urban  Space 

New  York  City  and  Chicago  are  urban  áreas  with  large  Latino  populations.  For 
Nuyoricans,  New  York  City  serves  as  their  cultural  coitai:  it  provides  a  sense  of 
home  in  the  mainland.  Chicago,  on  the  other  hand,  represents  a  crossroads  for  the 
two  largest  Latino  cultures.  Chicano  and  Puerto  Rican,  a  place  where  new  cultures 
are  bom.  In  El  Bronx  Retnembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  the  Latina 
protagonists  develop  a  social  consciousness  of  the  urban  space  as  they  travei  in  their 
respective  cities.  In  both  contexts,  urban  space  serves  as  a  landscape  for  exploration 
where  young  girls  traverse  cultural  boundaries  from  one  social  milieu  to  another.  On 
a  symbolic  levei,  it  also  represents  the  recognition  of  the  female  body,  a  sexual 
awakening.  This  process  of  change  alerts  the  mind  (of  both  the  city  and  the  body) 
to  an  awareness  of  gender.  In  "The  Subjects  of  This  Bridge  CalledMy  Back  and 
Anglo- American  Feminism,"  feminist  critic  Norma  Alarcón  explains  how  women'  s 
knowledge  and  familiarity  of  the  world  surrounding  them  can  be  understood  in 
conjunction  with  their  race,  class  and  gender  identity  as  women  of  color.  She  says, 
"Through  'consciousness-raising'  (from  women' s  point  of  view)  women  are  led  to 
know  the  world  in  a  different  way.  Women' s  experience  of  politics,  of  life  as  sex 
object,  gives  rise  to  its  own  methods  of  appropriating  that  reality:  feminist  method" 
(33-34).  In  El  Bronx  Retnembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  the  effects  of 
coming  of  age  in  the  urban  space  can  be  captured  through  the  process  of  moving  and 
coming  across  new  experiences  in  the  public  sphere.  This  movement  symbolizes  a 
joumey  through  different  social  environments  that  will  give  young  Latinas  new 
visions  of  their  capabilities  to  transcend  social  restrictions  placed  upon  them  by 
cultural  valúes,  educational  authorities,  and  patriarchal  domination.  In  the  three 
examples,  street  playing  amongst  girlfriends,  socializing  in  school,  and  transform- 
ing  traditional  gender  roles,  the  Latina  protagonist  (Chicana/Nuyorican)  forms  a 
self-awareness  of  her  social  role  in  an  attempt  to  find  "a  space  of  her  own"  in  the 
modem  metrópolis.  According  to  David  Harvey,  living  quarters  within  an  urban 


96        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


community  can  be  so  intense  that  people  must  control  a  particular  space  to  give 
themselves  a  sense  of  belonging  to  that  geographic  área.  He  says: 

Within  the  community  space,  used  valúes  get  shared  through 
some  mix  of  mutual  aid  and  mutual  predation,  creating  tight  but 
often  conflictual  interpersonal  social  bonding  in  both  prívate  and 
public  spaces.  The  result  is  an  often  intense  attachment  to  place 
and  'turf  and  an  exact  sense  of  boundaríes  because  it  is  only 
through  active  appropriation  that  control  over  space  is  assured. 
(266) 

The  Significance  of  Movement 

In  El  BronxRetnembered,  movement  becomes  an  important  issue  to  understand 
the  pubescent  experience  of  young  Latina  girls  in  city  culture.  In  "A  Very  Special 
Pet,"  family  members  face  rapid  cultural  changes  as  they  migrate  from  "their  tiny 
village  in  the  mountains"  (2)  in  Puerto  Rico  to  the  cities  in  the  United  States.  Mohr 
describes  the  transition:  "City  life  was  foreign  to  them,  and  they  had  to  leam 
everything,  even  how  to  get  on  a  subv^'ay  and  travei"  (2).  In  the  urban  environment, 
a  Puerto  Rican  woman  encounters  problems  because  she  is  not  accustomed  to  living 
in  this  fast-paced  city  and  culture  that  differs  radically  from  her  small  hometown. 
Mohr  offers  the  example,  "Graciela  Fernández  [the  mother]  had  been  terribly 
frightened  at  first  of  the  underground  trains,  traffic,  and  large  crowds  of  people. 
Although  the  mother  finally  adjusted,  she  still  confined  herself  to  the  apartmentand 
seldom  went  out"  (2).  This  self-imposed  physical  imprisonment  affects  her  psycho- 
logically  because  she  refuses  to  particípate  in  the  daily  routine  of  city  Ufe.  Yet,  the 
children  who  gradually  familiarize  themselves  with  American  culture  through 
media  and  school  will  follow  a  different  patli  from  their  mother  because  they  will 
be  raised  in  the  Bronx.  The  young  girls  become  especially  av^^are  of  the  need  to 
explore  urban  space. 

In  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  Esperanza,  a  young  Latina  in  the  city, 
experiences  several  changes  by  moving  with  her  family  from  one  apartment  to 
another.  In  the  vignette  "The  House  on  Mango  S  treet,"  Esperanza'  s  formati ve  years 
take  place  in  a  very  mobile  environment.  Her  parents  are  in  search  of  the  American 
Dream,  to  be  able  to  ov^n  a  house.  Since  her  parents  are  Mexican  immigrants,  it  is 
difficult  for  them  to  find  a  stable  and  adequate  home.  The  protagonist  says,  "But 
what  I  remember  most  is  moving  a  lot.  Each  time  it  seemed  there'd  be  one  more  of 
US.  By  the  time  we  got  to  Mango  Street,  we  were  six — Mama,  Papa,  Carlos,  Kiki, 
my  sister  Nenny  and  me"  (7,  emphasis  mine).  Like  the  young  girls  in  El  Bronx 
Remembered,  the  immigrant  experience  of  the  parents  will  affect  Esperanza' s 
gender  consciousness  because  she  will  be  raised  in  an  urban  environment,  a  place 
where  one  has  to  know  the  rules  of  the  game  called  survival.  Consequently, 
Esperanza  must  also  leam  how  to  defend  her  own  turf  to  show  that  she  will  redefine 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  97 


the  cultural  borders  placed  on  her  by  ignorant  outsiders  who  visit  her  barrio.  She 
says:  "Those  who  don't  know  any  better  come  into  our  neighborhood  scared.  They 
think  we're  dangerous.  They  think  we  will  attack  them  with  shiny  knives.  They  are 
stupidpeople  who  are  lostand  gothere  by  mistake"  (29).  In  this  example,  Esperanza 
challenges  the  stereotypical  prejudices  that  people  may  have  about  the  living  spaces 
of  working-class  Latinos.  Instead  of  having  these  spatial  boundaries  imposed  on 
her,  the  protagonist  traverses  them  to  know  other  neighborhoods  in  her  city. 

This  experience  to  fmd  a  home  serves  as  a  metaphor  for  another  kind  of  search 
which  is  that  of  her  consciousness  and  her  relationship  to  that  space  around  her.  In 
"A  House  of  My  Own,"  Esperanza  defines  her  space.  She  says,  "Not  a  flat.  Not  an 
apartment  in  back.  Not  a  man's  house.  Not  a  daddy's  house.  A  house  ali  my  own. 
. .  Nobody  to  shake  a  stick  at.  Nobody '  s  garbage  to  pick  up  after.  Only  a  house  quiet 
as  snow,  a  space  for  myself  to  go,  clean  as  paper  before  the  põem"  (100).  She 
becomes  aware  of  the  necessity  then  to  find  "a  space  of  her  own."  The  process  of 
traveling  through  the  world  of  the  streets,  the  school  system  and  the  city  will  awaken 
Esperanza  and  other  young  Latinas  to  avenues  of  change  and  better  understanding 
of  their  social  and  gender  roles. 

The  Streets 

Mohr  and  Cisneros  invent  their  Latina  female  protagonists  so  that  when  they 
estabhsh  relationships  with  their  girlfriends  in  the  streets,  they  develop  an  aware- 
ness  of  their  capabiUties  to  penétrate  forbidden  zones  in  the  city.  In  the  story  "Once 
Upon  a  Time. . .",  Mohr  explores  the  relationships  among  a  group  of  three  nameless 
girls  who  disobey  their  parents'  orders  by  searching  for  an  appropriate  playing  field, 
in  other  words  "a  space  of  their  own."  Since  these  girlfriends  cannot  seem  to  find 
a  suitable  place  in  their  neighborhood,  the  Bronx,  because  it  is  too  crowded  or  they 
do  not  belong  to  a  specific  turf  like  the  boys  in  the  group  The  Puerto  Rican  Leopards, 
they  must  settle  for  a  more  elevated  space,  the  rooftops  of  buildings.  In  traveling  this 
aerial  space,  these  girlfriends  find  a  space  of  their  own.  Mohr  elaborates:  "They 
walked  along  the  rooftops,  going  from  building  to  building.  Each  building  was 
separated  from  the  next  by  a  short  wall  of  painted  cement, ...  no  higher  than  three 
and  a  half  feet.  When  they  reached  each  wall  the  girls  climbed  over,  exploring 
another  rooftop"  (41).  Although  their  parents,  especially  the  molhers,  may  have 
wamed  these  girls  about  crossing  into  dangerous  áreas  such  as  rooftops,  the 
girlfriends  experience  an  exhilarating  feeling  of  freedom,  as  if  they  are  literally  on 
top  of  the  world.  From  this  angle,  they  acquire  a  new  perspective  on  life.  The  title 
of  the  story  may  remind  us  of  a  children's  fairy  tale  being  told  to  leam  a  moral.. 
Mohr,  nonetheless,  expands  the  meaning  beyond  children's  simple  language.  She 
emphasizes  the  adventure  in  the  story,  the  daring  experience  that  may  only  take 
place  "once  in  a  lifetime"  in  the  case  of  these  girls.  Instead  of  leaming  from  what 
older  people  may  tell  them,  these  youngsters  prefer  to  take  destiny  into  their  own 
hands  by  evading  the  rules  of  the  home.  The  awareness  that  they  are  wilhng  to 


98        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Retnembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


confront  danger  face  to  face  assures  us  that  these  girls  are  not  the  homebodies  we 
thought  of  them  in  the  beginning  of  the  story.  Mohr  also  calis  attention  to  the 
importance  of  female  friendship  when  a  young  Latina  decides  to  experience 
independence  in  the  urban  environment.  This  female  bonding  manifests  itself  in 
their  Street  singing,  part  of  an  oral  tradition,  which  is  the  "language  of  the  streets" 
or  "the  language  of  working-class  dialogue"  (Flores  51).  Because  of  the  spatial, 
economic,  and  cultural  limitations  placed  on  them  in  the  home,  these  girls  must  leam 
to  créate  their  own  sense  of  space  to  survive  within  the  public  sphere  of  the  city. 
In  "Our  Good  Day"  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  Esperanza  also  develops 
relationships  with  girlfriends  and  crosses  prohibited  city  streets  with  them.  Like  the 
three  nameless  girls  in  El  Bronx  Remetnbered,  Esperanza  and  her  new  firiends, 
Rachel  and  Lucy,  form  a  social  alliance  and  collectively  purchase  a  bicycle  to  ride 
around  their  neighborhood.  In  this  story,  Esperanza  also  undergoes  a  social  change 
because  she  breaks  her  relationship  with  Cathy,  Queen  of  Cats,  a  girl  from  a  more 
upwardly  mobile  social  status  in  exchange  for  two  working-class,  Texan  Latinas, 
Rachel  and  Lucy,  who  had  just  migrated  north  to  Chicago.^  These  girlfriends 
celébrate  their  freedom  when  they  acquire  a  bicycle  of  their  own,  a  mode  of 
transportation  that  will  take  them  places.  This  particular  investment  also  makes 
Esperanza  more  independent  and  provides  an  avenue  to  travei  into  unknown  spaces 
she  would  never  have  dreamed  of  otherwise  as  she  enters  the  danger  zone  in  rapid 
movement.  She  says:  "We  ride  fast  and  faster.  Past  my  house,  sad  and  red  and 
crumbly  in  places,  past  Mr.  Benny's  grocery  on  the  comer,  and  down  the  avenue 
which  is  dangerous.  Laundromat,junk  store,  drug  store,  Windows  and  cars  and  more 
cars,  and  around  the  block  back  to  Mango"  (17).  The  rebellious  Esperanza  not  only 
leaves  her  home  but  she  also  trespasses  the  limitations  of  her  street  and  explores  the 
other  streets  in  her  neighborhood.  She  takes  the  initiative  in  traveling  to  different 
places  with  her  girlfriends  even  if  it  means  crossing  social  restrictions  placed  upon 
her.  By  taking  this  step,  Esperanza  becomes  an  active  agent  of  her  life  who  wishes 
to  become  familiar  with  her  social  environment  and  beyond.  Cisneros  insinuates 
that  young  Latina  girls  should  find  appropriate  wheels  if  they  are  going  to  discover 
new  places  in  the  urban  space.  Like  boys  who  long  to  own  a  car,  Esperanza  leams 
to  ride  a  bicycle  to  show  that  she  too  knows  how  to  move  around  in  this  modem  city. 
She  dives  into  this  transportation  culture  to  avoid  the  pitfalls  of  a  "sitting  by  the 
window"  desüny.  It  is  no  wonder  that  for  Esperanza  and  her  new  girlfriends  this 
experience  of  owning  a  bicycle  occurs  on  "our  good  day."  She  has  found  other  girls 
with  whom  she  can  identify  who  are  also  willing  to  take  risks.  This  moment 
symbolizes  a  beginning  in  being  able  to  go  wherever  they  desire  to  venture.  From 
here  to  etemity,  these  Latina  protagonists  have  the  ability  and  the  means  to  travei 
any  where  down  the  city  streets.  This  movement  also  signifies  a  new  perspective  of 
space  and  the  ability  to  develop  one's  potential  when  everyone  tells  Esperanza  that 
she  should  not  bother  to  leave  her  home.  A  motivated  figure,  she  proves  that  she  too 
can  set  up  her  own  definition  and  appropriation  of  space  in  the  city. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  99 


The  School  System 

Mohr  and  Cisneros  also  address  the  school  system's  role  in  the  fonnation  of 
young  girls'  social  consciousness.  In  "The  Wrong  Lunch  Line"  in  El  Bronx 
Remembered,  the  young  Nuyorican  protagonist  Yvette  faces  humihation  when  a 
schoolteacher  reprimands  her  for  eating  with  her  Jewish  friend,  Mónica.  The 
schoolteacher  barks  in  an  authoritative  tone:  "You  have  no  right  to  take  someone 
else's  place. . .  You  have  to  leam,  Yvette,  right  from  wrong.  Don  't  go  where  you 
don't  belong''  (74,  emphasis  mine).  In  this  social  context,  Yvette  becomes  the 
victim  of  class  and  cultural  segregation  within  the  school  en vironment  because  she 
free-willingly  enters  a  cultural  space  different  than  her  own  Latino  one  by  disobey- 
ing  the  school  authorities.  Evidently,  Mohr  plays  with  perspectivism  in  this  story. 
What  is  "the  wrong  lunch  Une"  for  the  school  authority,  tums  out  to  be  "the  right 
lunch  line"  for  Yvette  who  follows  her  instincts.  This  means  that  Yvette  takes  the 
initiati  ve  to  think  for  herself  and  believes  in  loyalty  to  her  friend  Mónica  who  bonds 
with  her  in  "a  space  of  their  own"  rather  than  a  space  set  up  by  institutional 
boundaries.  The  educational  authorities  prevent  these  young  girls  from  crossing 
cultural  borders  by  repressing  their  natural  desires  to  make  friends  with  children  of 
different  cultural  backgrounds.  In  this  scene,  Mohr  vividly  captures  how  the  young 
girls  contest  the  authority  of  the  educational  school  system.  A  dehumanizing 
machine,  this  insütution  functions  to  divide  young  children  into  sepárate  physical 
and  cultural  spaces,  a  microcosm  of  society  at  large.  The  cultural  divisions  that  take 
place  within  the  spatial  boundaries  of  the  city  defmitely  influence  the  young 
Nuyorican  girls'  social  fonnation  leaving  them  with  limited  opportunities  to 
transgress  beyond  their  potentials  within  the  educational  system  and  their  social 
peers.  In  spite  of  these  setbacks,  though,  Yvette  refuses  to  play  the  role  of  the  quiet 
Latina  student.  She  rejoices  with  Mónica:  "'Boy,  that  Mrs.  Ralston  sure  is  dumb,' 
Yvette  said  gigglingly.  They  looked  at  each  other  and  began  to  laugh  loudly"  (75). 
Within  this  context,  the  girlfriends  celébrate  the  last  laugh  and  triumph. 

Esperanza  also  wishes  to  challenge  the  school  system's  authority  in  "A  Rice 
Sandwich"  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  Reminiscent  of  Yvette  in  El  Bronx 
Rernembered,  Esperanza  wishes  to  cross  into  foreign  territory  by  sitting  in  the 
section  of  the  "canteen,"  an  eating  place  for  "special  kids"  who  are  allowed  to  bring 
their  lunch  to  school.  Little  does  Esperanza  realize  that  the  spatial  divisions  of  the 
school  structure  leave  little  room  for  personal  freedom.  She  explains:  "But  lunch 
time  came  finally  and  I  got  to  get  in  line  with  the  stay-at-school  kids.  Everything  is 
fine  until  the  nun  who  knows  ali  the  canteen  kids  by  heart  looks  at  me  and  says:  you, 
who  sent  you  herel  And  since  I  am  shy,  I  don'  t  say  anything,  just  hold  out  my  hand 
with  the  letter.  This  is  no  good,  she  says,  till  Sister  Superior  gives  the  okay"  (42, 
emphasis  mine).  Esperanza  not  only  faces  public  degradation  like  Yvette,  but  she 
also  becomes  cognizant  of  the  fact  that  she  does  not  belong  in  the  Une  with  the 
canteen  kids.  The  educational  authorities,  in  this  case  the  Catholic  Church,  do  not 
even  care  to  acknowledge  her  mother,  a  poor  Latina  woman,  as  an  authority  figure 


100        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


because  they  treat  her  as  if  she  were  invisible.  Moreover,  this  "rice  sandwich" 
represents  a  different  econoniic  element.  Esperanza' s  mother  does  not  prepare  her 
a  bologna  or  peanut  butter  and  jelly  sandwich.  But  instead,  she  makes  use  of  what 
resources  are  available  to  her.  Esperanza  says:  "Okay,  okay,  my  mother  says  after 
three  day  s  of  this.  And  the  following  moming  I  get  to  got  to  school  with  my  mother'  s 
letter  and  arice  sandwich  because  we  don'thave  lunch  meat"  (42).  Since  she  comes 
from  a  working-class  background,  she  should  be  treated  accordingly .  This  class  and 
culture  conflict  transfers  into  a  deep  sense  of  marginalization  for  a  young  Latina  girl 
who  leams  about  the  injustices  of  spatial  divisions  in  school,  a  mirror  image  of  the 
problems  of  the  urban  city.  Like  Mohr's  character  in  "The  Wrong  Lunch  Line," 
Esperanza  becomes  aware  of  the  borders  that  can  impede  her  from  traveling  to  the 
other  side,  a  place  of  restriction  but  one  she  must  attempt  to  cross. 

Sexuality  in  the  Public  Sphere 

Transforming  traditional  gender  roles  by  leaving  the  domestic  space  in  the 
discovery  of  sexuality  becomes  a  significant  issue  in  both  texts.  Mohr's  represen- 
tation  of  sexuality  in  the  novella  "Hermán  and  Alice"  in  El  Bronx  Remetnbered 
departs  from  the  conventional  male  perspective  because  she  defines  new  outlooks 
for  young  Latinas  regarding  cholee  and  circumstance.  In  Sobre  la  literatura 
puertorriqueña  de  aquí  y  de  allá:  aproximaciones  feministas,  the  feminist  critic 
Margarita  Fernández-Olmos  explains: 

Las  novelas  de  ...  autoras  chicanas  y  puertorriqueñas,  como  la 
mayor  parte  de  las  escritoras  contemporáneas,  incluyen  una 
crítica  cultural  que  no  se  encuentra  normalmente  en  las  obras  de 
autores  masculinos:  la  diferenciación  sexual  de  las  funciones 
sociales  de  hombres  y  mujeres,  niñas  y  niños.  (120) 

Likewise,  Mohr  shows  the  need  to  change  the  sexual  roles  of  young  Latina  girls,  in 
this  case  Alice,  who  redefine  their  positions  within  the  family  structure.  Although 
the  young  Nuyorican  Alice  becomes  a  teen-age  mother  leaving  her  without  many 
cholees,  she  leams  from  her  first  sexual  experience  about  the  physical  meaning  of 
womanhood.  Mohr  offers  an  example,  "Later  that  night  they  met  on  the  stairway 
leading  to  the  roof.  It  happened  so  quickly.  She  felt  nothing  except  fear  and  pain. 
Stevie  was  drunk  and  held  her  tightly.  For  a  moment  she  struggled  to  leave,  but  he 
covered  her  mouth  with  his  hand,  waming  her  not  to  cry  or  scream  because  someone 
may  hear  them.  Alice  now  found  herself  crying  as  she  remembered  how  Stevie 
forcedhis  way  into  her"  ( 1 39).  Living  under  this  kind  of  sexual  terror  then  becomes 
part  of  her  sexual  formation  and  eventually  leads  her  to  be  more  aware  of  the 
physical  dangers  of  being  a  woman  in  an  urban  environment.  In  this  process,  Alice 
not  only  discovers  the  triáis  and  tribulations  of  being  a  mother,  but  she  also  leams 
about  being  a  woman  who  needs  to  know  how  to  protect  her  body,  even  from  the 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  101 


intímate  people  such  as  her  first  boyfriend,  Stevie.  This  problem  of  ignorance  arises 
from  cultural  valúes  as  well.  Alice' s  parents  never  allow  her  to  be  in  control  of  her 
life.  By  living  sheltered,  she  never  has  an  opportunity  to  meet  and  deal  with  males 
personally.  She  also  misses  chances  to  socialize  and  disco  ver  new  places  to  leam 
about  survival  in  New  York,  a  place  that  demands  knowledge  of  its  geographic 
space.  As  a  result  of  this  lack  of  knowledge  and  experience,  she  becomes  pregnant 
unexpectedly.  However,  she  marries  a  homosexual  Puerto  Rican  friend,  Hermán, 
a  socially  marginal  figure  himself.  Even  though  Alice  may  yield  to  the  idea  of 
marriage  as  an  instítution,  she  refuses  to  play  the  role  of  the  dutiful  wife.  Her 
husband  acts  more  like  a  friend  than  a  domineering  husband.  Together,  they 
redefine  the  idea  of  a  traditional  patriarchal  Latino  family  where  the  man  dominates. 
Henee,  Alice  dares  to  explore  places  outside  of  her  neighborhood  with  Hermán.  In 
spiritual  bonding,  they  travei  from  the  Bronx  to  Manhattan.  He  says:  "She  had  never 
been  inside  the  Empire  State  Building,  but  she  had  heard  about  it  from  the  kids  in 
school"  (135).  In  broadening  her  scope  of  New  York  City,  Alice  undergoes  a  social 
and  gender  awakening  of  her  potentíals  to  move  through  the  urban  space.  Though 
she  must  deal  with  the  hardships  of  motherhood  at  a  young  age,  she  discovers  new 
ways  to  achieve  self-fulfillment  with  Hermán. 

The  characters  Marín,  Rafaela,  and  Sally  also  fall  prey  to  patríarchal  domina- 
tíon  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  Like  Alice' s  sheltered  life  in  Mohr's  text,  they 
are  never  allowed  to  leave  the  father's  home  to  leam  about  themselves  and  their 
social  enviroimient.  When  they  do  walk  into  the  public  sphere,  men  take  advantage 
of  their  naiveté.  This  sexual  exploitatíon  of  her  girlfriends  leads  to  the  formatíon  of 
a  social  and  feminist  consciousness  in  Esperanza.  She  later  realizes  that  to  be 
imprísoned  at  home  can  have  traumatic  consequences  for  young  girls  once  they  do 
step  out  into  the  public  sphere.  In  "Red  Clowns,"  she  claims:  "Sally  Sally  a  hundred 
times.  Why  didn't  you  hear  me  when  1  called?  Why  didn't  you  tell  them  to  leave 
me  along?  The  one  who  grabbed  me  by  the  arm,  he  wouldn't  let  me  go.  He  said  I 
love  you,  Spanish  girl,  I  love  you,  and  pressed  his  sour  mouth  to  mine"  (93).  While 
Esperanza  is  waitíng  for  her  fríend  Sally  at  a  camival  by  the  "red  clowns,"  boys 
sexually  attack  her.  This  desperate  cry  for  help,  for  a  friend,  or  for  consolatíon 
reflects  a  profound  cultural  and  social  critíque  on  the  violence  of  young  girls'  bodies 
in  the  streets.  Esperanza  realizes  that  even  in  a  children's  world  üke  a  camival, 
young  girls  are  not  safe.  Any  kind  of  violaüon  can  occur.  In  this  case,  the  laugh  or 
shout  of  the  red  clown  corresponds  to  the  screaming  and  bleeding  from  rape.  Like 
Mohr,  Cisneros  defends  the  educatíon  and  protection  of  Latína  women's  bodies, 
especially  if  they  have  to  deal  with  people  who  try  to  invade  their  prívate  space  in 
the  public  sphere. 

Exploring  and  "Conquering"  the  Urban  Space 

In  The  House  on  Mango  5íreeí  Cisneros  carries  the  torch  of  hope,  "Esperanza," 


102        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


and  liberation  from  Mohr  in  order  to  explore  new  possibilities  for  U.S.  Latina 
women  in  a  city  environment.  In  the  vignette  "The  First  Job,"  Esperanza  moves 
beyond  her  neighborhood  to  become  a  young  working  girl,  which  is  to  say  an  urban 
explorer.  She  learns  to  take  public  transportation  downtown,  a  different  environ- 
ment, to  eam  a  living.  Esperanza  must  work  in  order  to  support  her  educational 
costs.  She  becomes  fmancially  responsible  at  a  young  age  in  the  real  world.  She  is 
so  insistent  on  eaming  her  own  money  that  she  must  lie  about  her  age.  She  says: 
"  Aunt  Lala  said  she  had  found  a  job  for  me  at  the  Peter  Pan  Photo  Finishers  on  North 
Broadway  where  she  worked  and  how  oíd  was  I  and  to  show  up  tomorrow  saying 
I  was  one  year  older  and  that  was  that"  (51).  At  this  new  workplace,  though, 
Esperanza  becomes  aware  that  she  can  still  be  a  victim  of  physical  harassment.  She 
speaks  of  a  fellow  male  co-worker:  "he  grabs  my  face  with  both  hands  and  kisses 
me  hard  on  the  mouth  and  doesn't  let  go"  (52).  When  she  fmds  herself  in  the 
workforce  which  tends  to  provide  security,  Esperanza  must  pay  the  pnce  for  being 
a  young  vulnerable  woman.  Even  in  the  workplace,  Latina  women  must  be  on  their 
guard  for  any  kind  of  physical  harassment.  This  experience  serves  as  another  form 
of  sexual  awakening  for  Esperanza  who  becomes  alert  as  she  crosses  new  social 
spaces  in  the  city. 

Similarly  in  "Alicia  Who  Sees  Mice"  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street^  the  young 
protagonist  Alicia  traveis  a  distance  in  the  city  to  receive  an  education.  Esperanza 
describes  her:  "Alicia,  who  inherited  her  mama's  rolüng  pin  and  sleepiness,  is 
young  and  smart  and  studies  for  the  first  üme  at  the  university .  Two  trains  and  a  bus, 
because  she  doesn'  t  want  to  spend  her  whole  life  in  a  factory  or  behind  a  rolling  pin" 
(32).  Alicia  attempts  to  define  her  own  space  by  developing  her  mind.  Cisneros 
demonstrates  this  progression  of  Latina  consciousness  because  now  she  explores 
the  intellectual  role  of  a  Latina  who  has  a  right  to  think  for  herself  and  díctate  the 
direction  of  her  life.  In  fací,  Ahcia  becomes  a  role  model  for  Esperanza  to  leave  the 
domestic  space  to  acquire  "amindof  her  own."  Alicia' s  situation,  however,  remains 
a  bit  problematic  because  she  continues  to  Uve  at  home  and  serves  the  males  in  her 
family  almost  like  a  self-sacrificing  mother.  She  must  fulfill  the  domestic  duties  as 
well  as  her  academic  ones.  Cisneros  then  finds  it  necessary  to  créate  an  imaginary 
as  well  as  a  real  space  for  Esperanza  by  using  the  notion  of  the  house  as  a  metaphor 
for  space  and  freedom.  What  is  at  stake  here  may  not  just  be  the  physical  sense  of 
independence  for  Esperanza,  but  rather  intellectual  and  psychological  freedom 
from  patriarchal  domination.  In  effect,  the  materialistic  independence  becomes  a 
symbol  for  an  intellectual  development  in  the  conquest  of  the  urban  space  and  the 
development  of  her  feminist  consciousness.  She  says:  "I  have  begun  my  own  quiet 
war.  Simple.  Sure.  I  am  one  who  leaves  the  table  like  a  man,  without  putting  back 
the  chair  or  picking  up  the  píate"  (82).  These  feeüngs  of  activity,  rebellion,  and 
movement  have  been  present  in  her  since  she  was  a  child  in  her  home. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  103 


A  Generation  of  Mujeres  en  marcha 

The  experiences  of  living  in  urban  space  for  the  female  protagonists  in  El  Bronx 
Retnetnbered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street  provide  a  new  perspective  on  the 
representations  of  the  conditions  of  Chicana/Nuyorican  women  who  form  part  of  a 
border  culture,  Latino  culture,  a  special  mix  of  Latin  American  and  Anglo- 
American.  It  is  important  to  understand  the  similar  concems  of  the  Latina  protago- 
nists in  the  different  social  contexts  of  these  narratives  to  grasp  how  they  react  to 
different  urban  factors.  While  many  Latino  male  authors  have  concentrated  on  "the 
bigger  issues"  of  the  Latino  immigrant  experiences  from  México  and  Puerto  Rico 
to  the  United  States,  it  is  just  as  imperative  to  study  the  dynamic  experiences  of 
Latina  women  who  migrate  within  the  big  cities,  New  York  and  Chicago,  places  that 
provide  a  haven  for  change  and  growth.  The  social  and  feminist  approaches  I  have 
utilized  in  this  essay  serve  to  bridge  the  gap  between  the  literary  texts  of  two  U.S 
Latina  writers  who  unite  in  dealing  with  issues  in  the  city  like  street  Ufe,  school,  and 
sexuahty  in  the  public  sphere.  The  conmion  grounds  between  the  Chicana  and 
Nuyorican  writers  who  develop  "their  feminism  on  the  border,  or  bridge  feminism" 
(Saldívar-Hull  207)  looks  at  cementing  a  U.S.  Latina  Uterary  tradition  in  the 
exploration  of  the  urban  space.  Mohr  and  Cisneros  offer  ground-breaking  narratives 
as  they  develop  new  visions  and  possibilities  for  U.  S .  Latina  women  as  never  shown 
before  in  either  of  their  respective  literary  traditions,  a  generation  of  Mujeres  en 
marcha.^ 


Juanita  Heredia 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTES 


1 .  Juan  Flores  describes  thehistoúcalcont&xtof  El  Bronx  Rememberedin  aconversation  with 
Nicholasa  Mohr.  He  says:  'The  setting  changes  from  Spanish  Harlem  during  the  war  (1941- 
1945)  in  Nilda  to  the  South  Bronx  of  the  decade  foUowing,  from  1945-1956,  the  years  when 
the  migration  of  Puerto  Ricans  to  New  York  reached  tidal- wave  proportions ."  In  an  interview 
with  Edna  Acosta-Belén,  Nicholasa  Mohr  explains  her  own  personal  background,  a  blend  of 
cultures,  in  relationship  to  the  historical  context  and  urban  space.  She  says,  "My  rich  heritage 
as  a  Puerto  Rican,  stemming  from  the  Caribbean,  Europe  and  Africa,  provides  me  with  source 
material  for  a  unique  interpretation  of  ufe  in  urban  America  (emphasis  mine)."  Both  of  these 
examples  demónstrate  how  dedicated  Mohr  is  to  the  representation  of  the  Puerto  Rican 
experience  in  a  city  environment  at  a  time  of  social  mobüization  in  history. 

2.  In  the  essay,  "Ghosts  and  Voices:  Writing  from  Obsession,"  Sandra  Cisneros  discusses  the 


104        Urban  Space  in  El  Bronx  Remembered  and  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


importance  of  moving  back  and  forth  from  Chicago  to  México  City  as  a  youngster  reflecting 
the  bicultural  experience  of  many  immigrant  people  in  the  big  cities  in  a  moment  in  history 
of  rapid  modernization.  Sbe  also  stresses  the  impact  that  poverty  had  on  her  in  discovering 
her  unique  voice.  She  poses  the  question,  "Whatdid  I  know  except  third  floor  fíats...  And  this 
is  when  I  discovered  the  voice  I'd  been  suppressing  all  along  withoutrealizing  it."In  another 
essay,  "Notes  to  a  Younger  Writer,"  Cisneros  reveáis  the  importance  of  writing  about 
experiences  in  places  that  she  knows  personally.  She  says,  "I  can  write  of  worlds  (urban 
context)  they  (classmates  at  lowa  Writing  Workshop)  never  dreamed  of,  of  things  they  never 
could  leam  from  a  college  textbook."  In  both  of  these  examples,  Cisneros  like  Mohr  stresses 
the  valué  of  combining  personal  with  social  experience  in  the  construction  of  reaüty  in 
literature.  All  these  pieces  are  contained  in  a  larger  essay  entitled,  "From  A  Writer' s 
Notebook." 

3 .  The  Chicano/Latino  movement  from  the  South,  Texas,  and  the  island  of  Puerto  Rico  to  the 
cities  in  the  North  of  the  United  States  has  roots  in  other  cultural  experiences  as  well.  For 
instance,  the  African- American  no velists  Alice  Walker  and  Toni  Morrison  represent  feminist 
volees  who  portray  the  experiences  of  African-Americans  who  have  migrated  from  rural  to 
the  Northern  cities  in  the  twentieth  century.  In  a  comparative  perspective.  Latinas  and 
African-American  women  share  many  similar  experiences  in  the  urban  space  because  they 
have  also  struggled  with  racism,  class  conflict,  and  patriarchy. 

4.  Nicholasa  Mohr  and  Sandra  Cisneros  reflect  new  and  conscientious  women' s  volees  in 
U.S.  Latina  literature  who  examine  the  role  of  young  women  in  a  patriarchal  society.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  they  can  almost  be  considered  contemporaries  with  the  leading 
feminine  volees  on  the  other  side  of  the  border  in  Latin  American  üterature.  The  Mexican 
Rosario  Castellanos  in  the  1970s  and  the  Puerto  Rican  Rosario  Ferré  in  the  1980s  also  emerge 
in  response  to  a  host  of  issues  regarding  the  "woman  question"  within  their  own  social 
contexts:  they  reconsidered  the  role  of  women  in  culture  and  society  to  free  them  from 
patriarchal  rule. 


WORKS  CITED 

Acosta-Belén,  Edna.  "Conversations  with  Nicholasa  Mohr."  Revista  Chicano-Riqueña.S 

(1980):  35-41. 
Alarcón,  Norma.  "The  Subjects  of  This  Bridge  Called  My  Back  and  Anglo-American 

Feminism."  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture, 

and  Ideology.  Ed.  Héctor  Calderón  and  José  D.  Saldívar.  Durham:  Duke  Univer- 

sity  Press,  1991. 
Cisneros,  Sandra.  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1984. 

.  "From  a  Writer's  Notebook."  The  Américas  Review .  15  (1987):69-79. 

Fernández-Olmos,  Margarita.  "Growing  up  Puertorriqueña:  el  Bildungsroman  feminista  en 

las  novelas  de  Nicholasa  Mohr  y  Magali  García  Ramis."  Sobre  la  literatura 

puertorriqueña  de  aquí  y  de  allá:  aproximaciones  feministas.  Santo  Domingo, 

República  Dominicana:  Editora  Alfa  &  Omega,  1989. 
Flores,  Juan.  "Back  Down  These  Mean  Streets:  Introducing  Nicholasa  Mohr  and  Louis  Reyes 

Rivera." /íev/í/a  Chicano-Riqueña.  8  (1980):  51-56. 
Gonzales-Berry,  Erlinda.  "Unveiling  Athena:  Women  in  the  Chicano  Novel."  Chicana 

Criticai  Issues.  Ed.  Norma  Alarcón  et  al.  Berkeley:  Third  Woman  Press,  1993. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  105 


Harvey,  David.  TTie  Urban  Experience.  Baltimore:  Johns  Hopkins  University  Press,  1989. 
Mohr,  Nicholasa.  El  Bronx  Remembered.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1973. 

.  "The  Joumey  Toward  a  Common  Ground:  Struggle  and  Identity  of  Hispanics  in  the 

U.S.A."  The  Américas  Review.  18  (1990):  81-85. 

Saldívar-Hull,  Sónia.  "Feminism  on  the  Border;  From  Gender  Politics  to  Geopolitics." 
Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideol- 
ogy.  Ed.  Héctor  Calderón  and  José  D.  Saldívar.  Durham:  Duke  University  Press, 
1991. 


Literary  Journal  of  the  Gradúate  Students  of  the 

DEPARTMENT  OF  SPANISH  AND  PORTUGUESE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 


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Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  107 


La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de 
Joaquín:  Representación  matrilineal  y  la 
nueva  mujer  chicana 


the  thread,  the  story 

connects 

between  women; 

grandmothers,  mothers, 

daughters, 

the  women 

the  thread  of  this 

story. 

(Alma  Villanueva, 

"epilogue") 


Introducción 

Esta  última  década  se  caracteriza  por  la  necesidad  de  inscribir  las  prácticas 
culturales  que  han  sido  marginalizadas  por  los  grupos  hegemónicos  o  dominantes. 
La  respuesta  de  los  grupos  subordinados  sobre  los  que  se  ha  impuesto  una  coerción 
o  marginaüzación  cultural  se  ha  efectuado  subvirtiendo  o  transgrediendo  los  valores 
ideológicos  de  la  cultura  hegemónica.  Citemos,  como  ejemplo,  el  obrar  cultural  de 
la  comunidad  chicana  dentro  de  la  sociedad  norteamericana  para  luego  analizar  la 
práctica  sociohistórica  de  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  dentro  de  la  comunidad  chicana 
y  de  la  norteamericana. 

La  comunidad  chicana  comienza  su  labor  de  subversión  del  discurso  hegemónico 
tanto  en  las  prácticas  sociohistóricas  concretas  (las  luchas  campesinas,  obreras) 
como  en  las  prácticas  escritúrales  de  los  manifiestos  "Yo  soy  Joaquín"  (1967)  y  el 
Chicano  Manifesto  (197 1)  y  en  las  representaciones  del  Teatro  Campesino.  En  una 
evaluación  integral  de  este  obrar  cultural,  estas  prácticas  se  constituyeron  en 
elementos  indispensables  para  forjar  la  inscripción  sociohistórica  de  los  chícanos 
dentro  de  su  propia  comunidad  y  de  la  comunidad  norteamericana.  El  sujeto 


108  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 

i 

colectivo  chicano  intenta  subvertir  la  coerción  cultural  impuesta  por  la  cultura 
hegemónica  norteamericana  y  para  ello  elabora  un  proyecto  de  acción  política  con 
un  culturema  semantizado  por  la  propia  comunidad  que  encierra  todo  un  ideario:  la 
unificación  por  la  "raza"  (décadas  de  los  50,  60  e  inicios  de  los  70). 

En  este  proyecto  político  resulta  paradójico  que  el  sujeto  chicano  reproduzca 
los  mapas  patriarcales  que  trata  de  subvertir  en  el  grupo  hegemónico  norteamericano. 
Por  ejemplo,  la  predicación  cultural  que  recibe  la  mujer  chicana  por  parte  de  este 
sujeto  perpetúa  la  reproducción  de  los  cánones  de  comportamiento  asignados  a  la 
mujer  mexicana  tradicional.  El  chicano  se  concibe  como  "macho"  en  una  evocación 
de  su  antepasado  mexicano  y  concibe  a  la  chicana  por  extensión  bajo  los  mismos 
parámetros  culturales  que  el  mexicano  a  la  mujer  mexicana: 

En  un  mundo  hecho  a  la  imagen  de  los  hombres,  la  mujer  es  sólo 
un  reflejo  de  la  voluntad  y  querer  mascuünos.  Pasiva,  se  convierte 
en  diosa,  amada,  ser  que  encama  los  elementos  estables  y 
antiguos  del  universo:  la  tierra,  madre  y  virgen;  activa  es  siempre 
función,  medio  canal.  (Paz  32) 

La  mujer  mexicana,  como  todas  las  otras  es  un  símbolo  que 
representa  la  estabilidad  y  continuidad  de  laraza.  A  su  significación 
cósmica  se  alia  la  social:  en  la  vida  diaria  su  función  consiste  en 
hacer  imperar  la  ley  y  el  orden,  la  piedad  y  la  dulzura.  (Paz  34) 

Tanto  para  Octavio  Paz  como  para  el  suj  eto  patriarcal  mexicano  y  por  extensión 
para  el  sujeto  patriarcal  chicano  el  estereotipo  de  la  mujer  tiene  como  ej  e  demarcador 
la  oposición  bueno/malo.  La  mujer/buena  es  homologada  con  la  madre,  la  Virgen 
de  Guadalupe,  mujer  sufrida  y  consecuente;  la  mujer/mala  es  homologada  con  la 
primera  Eva,  con  Maüntzin,  mujer  traidora.  Esta  fuerza  de  los  contrarios  en  tensión 
muestra  la  implantación  del  paradigma  patriarcal  con  el  que  se  ha  predicado  sobre 
el  sujeto  femenino  chicano  para  perpetuar  su  sujeción  al  eje  dominante  sin 
considerar  los  sintagmas  ideológicos  y  sociohistóricos  sobre  los  que  la  mujer/ 
chicana  ha  construido  su  propia  representación  cultural.  Esta  mujer  se  encuentra 
frente  a  una  doble  coerción  cultural,  la  primera  impuesta  por  la  cultura  hegemónica 
norteamericana  y  la  segunda  por  el  sujeto  masculino  patriarcal  de  su  propia 
comunidad. 

La  percepción  de  los  alcances  de  esta  doble  coerción  decide  la  actuación  del 
sujeto  femenino  chicano  en  tres  etapas: 

(a)  confrontar  al  sujeto  patriarcal  chicano; 

(b)  generar  estrategias  de  subversión  contra  la  impronta  patriarcal;  y 

(c)  construir  su  propio  sistema  de  representación  cultural  considerando  la 
variable:  mujer/chicana. 

El  obrar  contestatario  de  la  mujer  chicana  en  las  tres  etapas  mencionadas  recibe 
la  influencia  de  las  revoluciones  culturales  auspiciadas  por  el  sujeto  femenino 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  109 


dentro  de  la  sociedad  norteamericana.  Estas  coinciden  con  los  hechos  históricos  de 
las  últimas  tres  décadas. 

La  primera  etapa  queda  determinada  por  la  toma  de  conciencia  de  ser  "el  otro 
silenciado".  Como  Angie  Chabram-Deraersesian  señala: 

With  this  gender  objectivation,  the  silenced  Other,  Chicanas/ 
hembras,  are  thus  removed  from  full-scale  participation  in  the 
Chicano  movement  as  fully  embodied,  fully  empowered  U.S. 
Mexican  female  subjects.  They  are  not  only  engendered  under 
malinchismo  but  their  gender  is  disfigured  at  the  symbolic  level 
under  malinchismo,  an  ideological  construct  signifying  betrayal 
which  draws  inspiration  from  the  generic  Malinche.  (83) 

Las  chicanas,  como  estereotipo  ideológico  del  orden  patriarcal,  deben  quedar 
"sumergidas"  dentro  de  la  producción  cultural  del  chicano  y  su  voz  debe  ser 
silenciada.  En  la  segunda  etapa,  el  sujeto  femenino  chicano  comienza  a  gestar  sus 
estrategias  para  garantizarse  un  espacio  cultural  propio  con  la  finalidad  de  autorizar 
su  propia  práctica  sociohistórica.  Esta  segunda  generación  de  chicanas  recibe  la 
sanción  del  sujeto  colectivo  patriarcal  que  las  acusa  de  "traidoras"  (Maüntzin), 
hecho  paradójico  al  tratarse  de  un  movimiento  que  auspiciaba  la  búsqueda  de  una 
identidad  sociohistórica  auténtica  por  la  "raza"  y  por  su  "causa".  El  nuevo  discurso 
de  la  mujer  chicana  es  segregado  de  las  diversas  instituciones  encargadas  de 
perpetuar  el  sistema  hegemónico  y  de  garantizar  el  intercambio  entre  los  miembros 
dentro  de  su  propia  comunidad.  La  famiüa  impide  que  la  chicana  subvierta  los  roles 
tradicionales  que  le  han  sido  genéricamente  asignados;  la  comunidad  y  el  movimiento 
chicano  se  encargan  de  limitar  la  participación  política  de  la  mujer  dentro  de  su 
proyecto  histórico. 

Este  hecho  dio  lugar  a  que  la  mujer/chicana  adopte  uno  de  dos  posibles 
comportamientos,  o  se  asimilaba  a  la  representación  cultural  que  la  comunidad 
chicana  le  había  asignado  o  inauguraba  su  disidencia  y  por  lo  tanto  aceptaba  ser 
relegada  al  ostracismo  por  parte  de  su  propia  comunidad  (Chabram-Demersesian 
83). 

Es  a  partir  de  la  generación  de  estrategias  de  resistencia  contra  la  práctica 
hegemónica  que  la  mujer/chicana  comienza  a  desarrollar  dentro  de  su  propia 
comunidad,  se  fortalece  la  necesidad  de  unificar  al  sujeto  colectivo  femenino 
chicano  y  de  imponer  su  propia  representación  cultural  dentro  de  la  comunidad. 
Surge  entonces  la  promoción  de  un  proyecto  cultural  que  tiene  como  objetivo 
autorizar  históricamente  la  práctica  social  del  sujeto  femenino  chicano.  Las 
promotoras  de  este  proyecto  son  las  escritoras  y  artistas  chicanas  que  por  su  función 
de  puentes  culturales  con  otros  grupos  marginalizados  tanto  de  la  comunidad 
chicana  como  de  la  comunidad  norteamericana,  deciden  comprometer  su  producción 
cultural  para  construir  su  identidad  y  establecer  los  lincamientos  de  su  coexistencia 
social.  Se  produce  una  respuesta  contra  los  valores  tradicionales,  contra  las  formas 


1 10  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


de  representación  cultural  asignadas  por  el  eje  dominante  patriarcal  de  la  comunidad 
chicana  y  se  autogestionan  las  propias  señas  y  mapas  de  identidad  mediante  la 
exploración  de  la  representación  matrilineal. 

El  movimiento  chicano  recibe  esta  participación  como  una  traición  a  la  "raza" 
y  como  prueba  de  una  transculturación;  sanciona  a  la  mujer/chicana  acusándola  de 
aüenada  debido  a  su  relación  con  otros  grupos  marginalizados  de  la  sociedad 
norteamericana.  La  síntesis  de  la  crítica  cultural  de  la  mujer/chicana  se  evidencia  en 
la  protesta:  "No  quiero  ser  un  hombre": 

Ironically,  the  discourse  of  exclusión  and  betrayal,  which  as- 
sisted  in  displacing  Chicanas  such  as  these  from  the  nationalist 
script  of  Chicano  identity,  flourished  in  a  period  when  Chicanas 
were  questioning  their  traditional  roles,  increasing  their  partici- 
pation  within  the  politicai  área,  and  inscribing  abudding  Chicana 
feminist  discourse  and  practice.  (Chabram-Demersesian  84) 

La  nueva  mujer/chicana — de  acuerdo  a  Chabram — tiene  como  objetivo  la 
construcción  de  su  propia  representación  cultural.  Inicia  este  proceso  con  la 
substitución  de  voces  discursivas  y  con  la  resemantización  de  los  culturemas 
patriarcales.  Decide  la  resemantización  de  Malintzin,  la  desterritorialización  del 
nu'tico  Aztlán,  la  deconstrucción  del  culturema  de  la  familia  nuclear  y  la  re  valorización 
de  la  producción  del  sujeto  femenino  chicano  no  como  eje  reproductor  del  sistema 
patriarcal  sino  como  eje  de  subversión  del  mismo.  A  fines  de  los  sesenta  comienza 
el  proyecto  de  "nueva"  acción  política  e  inscripción  cultural  de  esta  mujer/chicana, 
movimiento  que  se  afianza  en  la  década  de  los  ochenta. 

La  representación  matrilineal 

Whenever  women  gather  in  circles  or  in  pairs,  in  olden  times 
around  the  village  well,  or  at  the  quilting  bee,  in  modem  times  in 
support  groups,  over  lunch,  or  at  the  children's  park,  they  tell  one 
another  stories  from  the  Motherline.  These  are  stories  of  female 
experience:  physical,  psychological,  and  historical.  (Lowinsky  1) 

En  su  The  Motherline.  Every  wotnan's  Journey  to  find  Her  Female  Roots, 
Naomi  Ruth  Lowinsky  define  la  representación  matrihneal  con  la  metáfora  del 
"viaje"  que  realiza  cada  mujer  para  explorar  sus  lazos  de  parentesco  en  la  raíz 
femenina  de  su  identidad.  Considera  que  la  experiencia  femenina  es  un  conjunto  de 
intertextos  que  producen  una  determinada  memoria  histórica.  El  mérito  de  su 
estudio  es  que  en  estas  historias  de  las  filiaciones  matriüneales  no  se  sujeta  a  la 
paradigmática  de  la  experiencia  femenina  (los  casos),  sino  que  enfatiza  la  evaluación 
ilativa  de  esta  experiencia  (estableciendo  relaciones  temporales,  espaciales,  y 
relaciones  de  tipo  causa/efecto). 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  111 


Sostiene  además  que  esta  ilación  de  la  práctica  femenina  se  instala  en  tres 
figuras  de  la  estructura  matrilineal  de  parentesco:  la  abuela,  la  madre  y  la  hija.  Los 
tres  roles  corresponden  a  la  figurativización  de  la  antigua  y  sagrada  trinidad 
femenina  que  temporalmente  genera  la  conexión  entre  el  presente,  el  pasado  y  el 
futuro,  "maiden,  mother,  and  crone"  (xvii). 

En  el  caso  de  la  mujer/chicana,  la  exploración  de  la  práctica  matrilineal  es  parte 
del  proyecto  de  construcción  de  su  nueva  representación  histórica.  Se  trata  también 
del  retomo  a  un  espacio  en  el  que  se  negocia  cierta  autonomía  y  cierta  distancia  con 
respecto  al  reticulado  patriarcal  por  el  que  necesariamente  se  ha  filtrado  toda  su 
experiencia  sociohistórica.  Una  de  las  características  más  representativas  de  este 
proyecto  es  que  el  saber  cultural  de  los  grupos  hegemónicos  es  subvertido  por  un 
saber  natural.  En  la  oposición  sociolectal  natura/cultura,  el  regreso  a  "natura" 
permite  la  desterritorialización  del  espacio  del  padre  y  la  resemantización  del 
territorio  social  de  la  mujer  dentro  de  la  comunidad. 

En  la  experiencia  de  la  mujer/chicana,  la  necesidad  de  generar  su  propia 
representación  cultural  la  conduce  a  la  exploración  de  los  roles  míticos  y  prácticos, 
virtuales  y  reaüzados  que  las  chicanas  (abuelas,  madres  e  hijas)  han  adquirido  y 
modulado  a  lo  largo  de  su  peregrinaje  histórico  por  una  identidad. 

Para  la  construcción  de  su  espacio  cultural,  la  mujer  chicana  (la  Nueva 
Chicana)  explora  la  filiación  matrilineal  con  la  finalidad  de  resemantizar  su 
práctica  femenina: 

We  had  to  write  another  story:  a  mujer  (el  subrayado  es  nuestro) 

story ,  another  discourse  from  the  perspective  of  the  f oregrounded 

chicana. 

We  Chicanas  had  to  créate  our  own  word,  our  own  cosmos, 

constructed  by  "Chicana" — here,  sister,  woman.  (Chabram  86) 

Ahora  bien,  considerando  que  la  escritura — el  texto  literario — es  también  el 
lugar  de  una  memoria  que  inscribe  las  prácticas  sociohistóricas  que  insurgen  contra 
la  historia  oficial,  nuestro  objetivo  será  analizar  las  características  de  los  diversos 
roles  asumidos  por  la  figura  de  la  abuela  en  ciertas  muestras  de  escritura  de  la  nueva 
muj  er/chicana  y  establecer  el  valor  que  estos  roles  adquieren  para  la  resemantización 
de  la  práctica  sociohistórica  del  sujeto  femenino  y  del  sujeto  colectivo  chicano.  La 
práctica  social  y  familiar  de  la  abuela  resulta  ser  el  centro  desde  donde  la  nueva 
mujer/chicana  va  a  predicar  sobre  los  modelos  y  conductas  de  su  identidad.  De  igual 
modo,  es  desde  la  experiencia  vital  de  la  figura  de  la  abuela  que  la  escritora  inicia 
la  resemantización  de  los  valores  míticos  y  tradicionales  de  su  filiación  ancestral. 
La  nueva  mujer/chicana  otorga  a  la  figura  de  la  abuela  la  competencia  para  realizar 
los  siguientes  roles: 

(a)  Es  Mahntzin/Guadalupe.  Sincretiza  por  extensión  los  roles  eufóricos  y 
disfóricos  asignados  por  la  cultura  hegemónica  a  la  mujer  mexicana.  La  abuela  es 
Tonitzin,  Malintzin,  la  Virgen  de  Guadalupe  y  por  lo  tanto  reúne  toda  la  paradigmática 


112  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


cultural  del  sujeto  femenino  de  la  cultura  ancesü^al. 

(b)  Es  una  memoria  histórica.  Substituye  el  saber  histórico  de  la  cultura  oficial 
por  la  memoria  colectiva  del  sujeto  social. 

(c)  Es  el  territorio  concreto  que  substituye  al  mítico  Aztlán.  Se  constituye  en 
un  territorio  que  desplaza  al  espacio  imaginario  de  origen  creado  por  el  sujeto 
colectivo  chicano. 

(d)  Es  chamán,  médico  y  curandera.  Como  depositaria  del  saber-médico 
tradicional  y  del  saber-mágico  de  la  cultura  ancestral,  susbstituye  al  saber-médico 
occidental. 

(e)  Es  visionaria.  Opone  un  saber  ancestral  tradicional  al  saber  racional  y 
tecnológico  de  la  sociedad  contemporánea. 

Todos  estos  roles  también  son  asumidos  por  oü^as  figuras  femeninas  además  de 
la  abuela;  sin  embargo,  el  rasgo  común  que  unifica  a  todas  las  figuras  es  que  se  trata 
de  mujeres  ancianas  y  sabias  que  reciben  el  reconocimiento  del  sujeto  femenino  por 
la  trayectoria  histórica  de  su  experiencia  vital. 

Como  observamos,  para  evitar  que  la  influencia  de  las  prácticas  tradicionales 
del  sujeto  patriarcal  condicionase  la  producción  de  un  discurso  de  substituciones  y 
no  de  resemantizaciones  culturales,  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  delimitó  los  culturemas 
fundamentales  que  caracterizan  al  discurso  hegemónico  y  así  trató  de  garantizar  el 
espacio  para  la  inscripción  de  sus  propios  culturemas  resemantizados. 

Si  les  permiten  hablar:  las  abuelas  ponen  el  mundo  al  revés 

De  acuerdo  a  lo  planteado,  la  escritura  de  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  se  caracteriza 
por  la  exploración  de  la  representación  matrilineal  y  por  el  compromiso  con  un  saber 
"natural"  que  le  permite  trascender  el  "yo"  y  el  "nosotros"  institucionales  que  han 
caracterizado  la  representación  política  del  movimiento  chicano  ("Yo  soy  Joaquín", 
Chicano  Manifesto).  El  yo  que  asume  la  heroína  chicana  es  por  lo  general 
autobiográfico,  testimonial,  síntesis  de  una  experiencia  que  deja  de  ser  exclusiva 
para  constituirse  en  inclusiva  de  la  práctica  histórica  colectiva.  Salazar  y  Ramírez 
sostienen: 

Our  women  héroes  do  not,  however  seek  superiority  and  domi- 
nance  but  rather  parity  and  equality  of  stature,  respect  and 
opportunity.  Clearly  ,  they  are  neither  the  traditional  héroes  in 
positions  of  power  ñor  the  traditional  heroines  whose  roles 
support  the  heroic  achievements  of  men.  (59) 

La  escritura  narrativa  y  poética  de  la  nueva  chicana,  trata  de  enfatizar  la 
oralidad  como  parte  de  su  percepción  de  la  representación  matrilineal.  Como 
establece  Lowinsky,  la  percepción  patriarcal  es  cognoscitiva  y  abstracta,  mientras 
que  la  matriarcal  es  natural  y  concreta  (14);  de  ahí  la  justificación  del  retomo  a  la 
oralidad  y  de  la  recuperación  de  la  memoria  colectiva.  Tey  Diana  Rebolledo  en  su 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  113 


artículo  "Abuelitas:  Mythology  and  Integration  in  Chicana  Literature",  llega  a  la 
conclusión  que  las  "abuelitas"  no  sólo  sirven  para  establecer  un  vínculo  de  linaje 
sino  también  sirven  como  un  espejo  del  pasado  para  la  propia  escritora.  Destaca  la 
función  de  la  figura  de  la  abuela  como  creadora  de  un  nuevo  mito: 

It  would  seem  at  first  glance  that  the  literature  about  abuelitas 
would  fall  into  the  first  stage  of  conservation:  the  remembrance 
of  people  that  need  to  be  recorded  and  preserved.  Yet  the 
importance  of  heritage  and  tradition,  and  the  influence  of  whose 
who  act  as  transmitters  or  facilitators,  highlights  the  abuelita  as 
a  creator  and  inventor  of  a  new  mythos,  Abuelitas  serve  not  only 
as  a  backdrop  to  heritage  but  also  as  a  mirror  image  of  the  past  for 
the  writer  herself.  (154) 

En  este  sentido,  esa  imagen  del  pasado  estaría  sosteniendo  una  predicación 
anterior  sobre  la  mujer/chicana  dentro  de  los  cánones  del  sujeto  patriarcal  chicano 
y  no  funcionaría  como  parte  del  nuevo  proyecto  de  inscripción  cultural.  La  metáfora 
del  viaje  con  la  que  concluye  su  estudio  establece  que  la  filiación  con  la  "abuela" 
resulta  ser  un  viaje  de  integración  sicológica  para  la  chicana: 

The  text  itself  functions  as  the  thread  that  ünks  grandmothers  and 
granddaughters.  The  female  hero  is  about  to  be  bom,  a  heoine  in 
a  long  line  of  heroines,  nietas  and  abuelitas  fused  by  a  common 
bond:  bloodline  and  sex.  It  is  the  myth  of  the  integration  of  the 
female  who  is  both  courageous  and  womanly.  (158) 

Marta  Sánchez  en  su  artículo  "Villanueva's  poetic  I",  estudia  la  relación 
matrilineal  en  el  poemario  Mother,  May  I?  de  Alma  Villanueva  y  sostiene:  "The 
poetic  enterprise  oí  Mother,  May  I?  will  be  to  créate  from  concrete  experience  a 
personal  myth  of  a  "universal"  womanhood.  As  an  autobiographical  poem,  the 
narrating  consciousness  of  Mother,  May  I?  must  incoporate  both  identities  of 
woman  and  Chicana  into  the  poetic  voice"  (112). 

La  triada  femenina  está  representada  por  las  figuras  de  la  madre,  la  abuela  y  la 
nieta.  La  abuela  encama  la  filiación  con  la  cultura  mexicana  y  se  evidencia — como 
destaca  Sánchez — en  su  competencia  lingüístico-discursiva:  la  abuela  habla 
castellano: 

my  grandmother  takes  me  to  the  first 
day  of  school,  everyone  speaks 
so  fast.  I  can  read  and  count 
in  spanish.  you  can't  speak 
spanish  here.  they  don't  like 
it  and  the  teacher  is  fat 


1 14  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


and  so  white 

and  I  don't  like  her.  I  run 

home  and  my  grandma  says  I  can  stay.  we 

go  to  the  movies  and  chinatown  and  shopping. 

she  holds  one  side  of  the  shopping  bag,  I 

hold  the  other.  we 

pray  and  dunkpan  dulce  in  coffee.  we 

make  tortillas  together.  we 

laugh  and  take  the  buses 

everywhere  [...]  (Mother,  May  I?  9) 

En  oposición  al  rol  eufórico  de  la  abuela,  la  madre  ausente  desempeña  un  rol 
disfórico  para  la  hija.  Como  señala  Rebolledo  "  [i]  t  is  interesting  to  note  that  mothers 
do  not as  often  appear  as  favorably  as  abuelitas  in  the  eyes  of  their  daughters"  (149). 
El  rol  de  la  madre  es  figurativizado  como  disfórico  debido  a  que  se  trata  de  un  sujeto 
en  conflicto,  de  un  sujeto  "puente"  con  la  cultura  hegemónica  norteamericana  y  con 
el  sujeto  patriarcal  chicano: 

my  mother  was  beautiful. 

she  smelled  good. 

she  put  perfume  on  her  panties 

and  her  legs  were  smooth.  they 

sounded  funny  but  they 

felt  slippery. 

she  had  lots  of  boyfriends. 

lots. 

my  mother  was  beautiful. 

sometimes  I  slept  in  the  kitchen 

on  chairs  so 

he  could  sleep  with  her. 

sometimes  I  kissed  her  just  like 

he  did. 

she  was  always  going  away 

with  one  of  them. 

she  was  always  beautiful 

for  them.  (Mother,  8) 

Para  Norma  Alarcón  (1990),  este  tratamiento  de  la  figura  de  la  madre  resulta 
ser  un  cuestionamiento  ideológico  ambivalente  y  contradictorio: 

Tomando  en  cuenta  [el]  marco  socioeconómico,  las  escritoras 
han  venido  revelando  una  actitud  ambivalente  y  contradictoria 
con  respecto  a  la  figura  de  la  madre.  Por  un  lado  se  la  ve  como  una 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  115 


mujer  trabajadora  que  se  ha  sacrificado  en  los  campos  y  en  las 
fábricas  para  sostener  a  la  familia;  pero  por  otro,  al  entenderia 
como  encargada  de  la  trasmisión  de  patrones  culturales 
tradicionales,  ella  traiciona  los  intereses  de  la  hija  o  la  abandona 
a  que  se  abra  paso  por  sí  misma  y  solitariamente  en  un  ambiente 
sumamente  hostil  para  la  mujer  de  color.  (210-1 1) 

Recordemos  que  la  hostilidad  del  medio  contra  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  no  sólo 
se  produce  por  el  prejuicio  étnico  y  racial,  sino  que  sobre  todo  se  debe  al  prejuicio 
sexista  de  su  propia  comunidad.  Esta  coerción  hace  que  la  escritora  evalúe  el  rol  de 
la  madre  como  una  intrusión  en  la  búsqueda  de  su  propio  espacio  de  representación 
cultural: 

It  was  inevitable 

mother 

that  we  should  end  up 

hating  each  other 

I  could  never 

compete 

with  the  smell  of 

male 

constant 

in  your  nostrils. 

You  ran  away 
insearch 
of  perfect 
h^piness. 

I  stayed 

cuddled  in  the 

dreams 

of  perfect  motherhood.  (Herrera-Sobek,  "Inevitable  Outcome"  75) 

Lowinsky  señala  que  la  presencia  de  la  "abuela"  es  indispensable  para  la 
intervención  de  la  vieja/sabia  en  la  deliberación  de  los  conflictos  entre  la  madre  y 
la  hija:  "When  mother  and  daughter  fly  into  their  polarized  viewpoints,  grand- 
mother  conciousness  provides  the  integrating  third  viewpoint,  honoring  differ- 
ences,  valuing  both  sides,  seeing  the  struggle  as  part  of  an  impersonal  pattem  of 
female  development"  (117). 

En  el  caso  de  la  escritura  de  la  nueva  mujer/chicana,  la  madre  reproduce  y 
perpetúa  muchos  de  los  valores  del  grupo  patriarcal  en  oposición  a  la  abuela  que 
concreta  y  simbólicamente  realiza  una  práctica  sociohistórica  más  contracultural  y 


1 16  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


subversiva.  Ello  se  evidencia,  por  ejemplo,  en  el  ensayo  de  carácter  testimonial  de 
J.  Oshi  Ruelas: 

Mi  abuela,  como  mis  padres,  no  se  graduó  de  la  escuela  secundaria. 
Sin  embargo,  era  muy  ambiciosa.  Vino  a  los  Estados  Unidos  por 
su  cuenta  y  comenzó  su  propio  negocio — un  restaurante  en  el 
pueblo  fronterizo  de  Mexicali.  Tuvo  mucho  éxito  con  su  negocio 
y  le  gustaba  trabajar  ahí.  Como  era  una  mujer  de  negocios, 
confrontó  muchas  críticas  de  su  familia.  Nuestra  familia  creía  que 
la  mujer  pertenecía  al  hogar.  Ambas  nos  habíamos  desviado  de 
sus  reglas  y  normas  y  habíamos  seguido  distintos  caminos,  aun 
cuando  ello  significó  separamos  de  nuestras  familias.  Mi  abuela 
aprendió  sola  la  mayor  parte  de  las  cosas  que  sabía  porque  mi 
bisabuela  no  podía  pagarle  la  escuela.  Mi  abuela  valoraba  la 
educación  y  sentía  que  era  la  única  cosa  que  ella  habría  querido 
tener  cuando  de  joven.  Ella  me  inspiró  el  amor  por  aprender,  algo 
que  siempre  he  mantenido.  (  23-33)^ 

Pero  también,  en  oposición  a  la  figura  de  la  madre,  la  de  la  abuela  representa 
para  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  la  primera  relación  intensa  que  procura  protección  y 
estabilidad  emocional  y  que  además  conlleva  la  misión  de  iniciar  a  la  nieta  en  las 
diversas  instancias  de  socialización  temprana.  La  intensidad  de  la  integración  entre 
la  abuela  y  la  nieta  trasciende  la  desaparición  física — la  muerte — de  la  abuela  que 
simbólicamente  establece  su  residencia  en  el  imaginario  de  la  nieta: 

Here  we  are 
You  and  I 
together  again 
seeing  each  other 
through  a  cloud 
of  memories. 

You 

half  here 

half  there 

Me  trying  to  cióse  the  bridge 

between  the  two.  (Herrera-Sobek,  "Together  again"  58) 

Otro  ejemplo  de  esta  intensidad  e  integración  entre  las  figuras  de  la  abuela  y  de 
la  nieta  se  encuentra  en  el  poema  en  prosa  "to  Jesus  Villanueva,  with  love"  de 
Villanueva.  La  característica  más  destacable  de  este  texto  es  la  marca  de  oralidad 
que  intencionalmente  genera  la  simulación  de  un  pacto  autobiográfico  con  el  lector: 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  117 


my  first  vivid  memory  of  you 

mamacita, 

we  made  tortillas  together 

yours,  perfect  and  round 

mine,  irregular  and  fat 

we  laughed 

and  named  them:  oso,  pajarito,  gatito  [...]  (Bloodroot  52) 

Otra  característica  matrilineal  que  establece  el  discurso  literario  de  la  nueva 
mujer/chicana,  es  la  necesidad  de  reescribir  los  mitos  que  provienen  de  la  cultura 
ancestral.  Como  describe  Chabram-Demersesian  (84),  la  nueva  chicana  trata  de 
reemplazar  el  discurso  del  compadre  y  del  camal  por  el  de  la  comadre  y  el  de  la 
hermana;  los  mitos  ancestrales  en  los  que  se  asocia  a  la  madre/hermana  serán 
entonces  vueltos  al  revés  y  resemantizados.  El  mito  de  La  Malinche  y  las  variantes 
del  mito  de  la  Llorona  plantean  los  temas  de  la  tradición  oral  que  tratan  sobre  el 
sujeto  femenino  desde  la  perspectiva  del  enunciado  patriarcal  y  son  retomados  para 
proponer  la  reinterpretación  del  mestizaje  cultural  y  establecer  una  correlación  con 
el  conflicto  contemporáneo  de  ser  mujer/chicana: 

5. 

The  woman  shrieking  along  the  littered  bank  of  the 

Río  Grande  is  not  sorry.  She  is  looking  for  revenge. 

Centuries  she  has  been  blamed  for  the  murder  of  her 

child,  the  loss  of  her  people,  as  if  Tenochtitlan 

would  not  have  fallen  without  her  sin.  History 

does  not  sing  of  the  conquistador  who  prayed 

to  a  white  god  as  he  pulled  two  ripe  hearts 

out  of  the  land.  (Alicia  Gaspar  de  Alba,  "Malinchista,  A  Myth 

Revised"  17) 

Norma  Alarcón  (1983, 182)  señala  que  en  relación  a  los  mitos  ancestrales,  las 
escritoras  se  han  encargado  de  analizar  la  predicación  que  han  recibido  desde  los 
grupos  dominantes.  Alarcón  presenta  la  polémica  cultural  creada  en  tomo  a  La 
Malinche  como  culturema  de  estado  cero  al  que  cada  grupo  se  ha  encargado  de 
asignarle  una  identidad. 

En  muchos  textos  la  abuela  va  a  asumir  el  rol  de  Malintzin  (Malinche)  como 
generadora  de  la  insurrección  femenina  contra  la  predicación  patriarcal.  La  figura 
de  la  abuela  también  va  a  permitir  el  desafío  de  los  valores  ideológicos  tradicionales 
al  tratar  culturemas  cerrados  o  tabús  como  el  incesto: 

But  tonight  my  scorpion  blood  boils 
with  the  heat  of  the  lion — 
my  half-cousin  of  fire. 


118  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


my  Aztec  brother — 

and  you  are  conceived,  hija, 

from  the  wonn  of  incest.  (Gaspar  de  Alba,  "Letters  from  a  Bruja"  46-47) 

Hemos  planteado  que  el  discurso  que  representa  la  filiación  matrilineal  se 
caracteriza  por  la  presencia  de  las  marcas  de  oralidad.  Estas  marcas  permiten  la 
creación  del  efecto  de  realidad  atribuible  al  hecho  autobiográfico,  enfatizando  el 
aspecto  testimonial.  En  el  plano  de  la  expresión  de  los  textos,  los  rasgos  se 
distinguen  por  las  presencia  de  demarcadores  lingüísticos  pronominales  (el  eje  yo/ 
tú)  y  por  la  simulación  de  un  dialogismo  intratextual.  La  importancia  de  la  tradición 
oral,  al  ser  considerada  por  la  institución  literaria  como  parainstitucional^  (otro 
mecanismo  subversivo  utilizado  por  la  mujer/chicana),  es  que  permite  recuperar  el 
referente  ancestral  y  asegurar  la  continuidad  de  la  memoria  histórica.  Como 
depositaria  de  un  "saber  ancestral",  la  abuela  es  portadora  de  un  conocimiento 
colectivo  que  la  autoriza  para  "hablar"  en  nombre  del  sujeto  chicano.  En  este 
sentido,  sus  relatos  proporcionan  a  la  mujer/chicana  la  estabiüdad  sicológica  y 
sociológica  que  garantizan  la  percepción  de  una  identidad  homogénea  (caso 
opuesto  al  de  la  madre  puesto  que  ella  representa  el  elemento  disociador  y  además 
enfático  de  una  identidad  híbrida).  En  el  poema  "Susana"  de  María  Herrera-Sobek, 
se  observa  la  descripción  de  la  abuela  como  contadora  de  historias,  historias  que 
constituyen  la  memoria  del  sujeto  femenino  chicano: 

m  tell  the  birds 

Each  moming  when  I  wake 

That  you  were  here 

Smiling  at  the  dawn. 

ru  tell  the  butterflies  about  your  stories 

Your  endless  tales 

Of  horses,  river  streams,  and  mountain  pines 

Of  your  dark  héroes  flying  in  the  night 

To  fight  the  battles 

That  brought  the  moming  sun.  (  56) 

La  escritura  de  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  desterritorializa  al  mítico  Aztlán 
predicado  por  el  Joaquín  del  sujeto  patriarcal  y  lo  substituye  por  un  territorio — un 
cuerpo — real  y  concreto.  El  cuerpo  de  la  abuela  se  convierte  en  "madre  tierra", 
"matriz"  y  "lugar  de  origen": 

I  wind  stories  in  your  native 
tongue  to  frighten  you 
but  the  only  fear  here  is  mine: 
that  innocence,  that  imagination 
brewing  me  to  pieces. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  1 19 


I  am  the  land  you  left  behind,  little  girl, 

shadow  of  my  shadow.  (Alicia  Gaspar  de  Alba,  "Letters  from  a  Bruja") 

Finalmente,  el  saber  natural  de  la  abuela  presenta  dos  roles  que  tienen  como 
origen  la  fijación  de  la  práctica  cultural  ancesü^al:  la  abuela  es  chamán  (¿a?),  médica 
curandera  y  visionaria.  Se  sustituyen  los  órdenes  de  conocimiento  racional  de  la 
cultura  hegemónica  por  el  conocimiento  natural  de  la  "madre  üerra".  Además  de 
asignarle  el  rol  de  restauradora  del  equilibrio  ecológico  y  de  la  reconciliación  de  la 
mujer  con  la  natuleza,  la  figiu^a  de  la  abuela  recibe  un  poder  sobrenatural  de  carácter 
mágico.  Rebolledo  escoge  el  poema  "  Abuelita  Magic"  de  Pat  Mora  para  ilustrar  este 
aspecto: 

The  new  mother  cries  with  her  baby 

in  the  still  desert  night, 

sits  on  the  dirt  floor  of  the  two-roon  house, 

rocks  the  angry  bundle 

tears  sliding  down  her  face. 

The  abuelita  wakes,  shakes  her  head, 

finds  a  dried  red  chile, 

slowly  shakes  the  wrinkled  pod 

so  the  seeds  rattle 

ts.ss,ts.ss. 

the  abuelita 

ts.ss,ts.ss. 

gray-haired  shaman 

ts.ss.ts.ss. 

cures  her  two  children 

ts.ss 

with  sleep.  (33) 

En  este  mundo  al  revés,  la  "abuela"  es  para  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  el  cuerpo 
real  que  reemplaza  al  territorio  mítico,  la  memoria  colectiva  y  el  saber  ancestral  que 
reemplazan  a  la  historia  oficial  y  al  saber  tecnológico  que  caracteriza  al  mundo 
contemporáneo.  El  saber  médico  tradicional  de  la  abuela  substituye  al  saber  médico 
occidental,  así  como  su  práctica  mágica  desafía  el  racionalismo  del  grupo  patriarcal . 

El  rol  que  consideramos  de  mayor  trascendencia  para  establecer  una  primera 
evaluación  de  la  representación  matrilineal  que  genera  la  nueva  mujer/chicana  en 
su  escritura  es  convertir  simbóhcamente  el  cuerpo  de  la  abuela  en  el  "territorio  de 
origen".  De  esta  forma,  desplaza  la  obsesiva  y  abstracta  metáfora  del  cuarto  propio 
que  caracteriza  el  espacio  imaginario  de  otros  proyectos  feministas  y  lo  sustituye 
por  un  espacio  concreto  y  dinámico.  El  cuerpo  de  la  abuela  es  el  lugar  de  origen  y 
de  inscripción  de  un  cúmulo  de  experiencias  vitales  (biológica,  sicológica. 


120  La  abuela  puso  al  revés  el  mundo  de  Joaquín 


sociológica,  histórica)  que  sólo  pueden  ser  experimentadas  por  el  sujeto  femenino. 
La  fijación  de  la  abuela  como  figura  a  partir  de  la  cual  la  nueva  mujer/chicana 
resemantiza  su  identidad  dentro  de  la  escritura,  evidencia  la  preocupación  de  este 
sujeto  por  gestionar  una  memoria  matrilineal  que  inaugure  su  disidencia  de  las 
predicaciones  patriarcales  impuestas  por  los  dos  grupos  que  han  coercionado  su 
práctica  cultural:  la  sociedad  norteamericana  y  el  sujeto  patriarcal  chicano.  El 
alcance  cultural  de  la  propuesta — ^más  allá  de  la  substitución  y  resemantización  de 
los  esterotipos  patriarcales — representa  la  respuesta  histórica  de  la  mujer/chicana 
que  no  sólo  aspira  a  integrar  al  sujeto  femenino  chicano  sino  que — y  sobre  todo — 
decide  representarse  a  partir  de  su  memoria  matrilineal. 

Fanny  Arango-Keeth 
Arizona  State  University 


NOTAS 


1  La  traducción  es  nuestra. 

2  Para  nuestro  estudio  la  "literatura  parainstitucional"  es  la  que  reúne  los  discursos 
literarios  no  reconocidos  como  tales  por  la  institución  literaria. 


OBRAS  CITADAS 


Alarcón,  Norma.  "Chicana's  Feminist  Literature:  A  Re- Vision  through  Malintzin:  Putting 

Flesh  Back  on  the  the  Object."  This  Brídge  Calíed  My  Back.  Writings  of  Radical 

Women  of  Color.  Eds.  Cherríe  Moraga  &  Gloria  Anzaldúa.  New  York:  Kitchen 

Table,  1983.  182-90. 
.  "La  literatura  de  la  chicana:  un  reto  sexual  y  racial  del  proletariado".  Mujer  y 

literatura  mexicana  y  chicana.  Culturas  en  contacto.  México:  El  Colegio  de 

México  y  El  Colegio  de  la  Frontera  Norte,  1990.  207-12. 
Chabram-Demersesian,  Angie.  "I  Throw  Punches  for  my  Race,  but  I  Don't  Want  to  Be  a 

Man:  Writing  Us — Chicanos(Girl,Us)/Chicanas — into  the  Movement  Script." 

Cultural  Studies.  Eds.  Lawrence  Grossberg,  Cary  Nelson  and  Paula  A.  Threichler. 

New  York:  Rouüedge,  1991.  81-95. 
Gaspar  de  Alba,  Alicia,  María  Herrera-Sobek  y  Demetria  Martínez.  Three  Times  a  Woman. 

Tempe:  Bilingual  Review  Press,  1989. 
Gómez,  Alma  et  al  (eds).  Cuentos.  Stories  by  Latinas.  New  York:  Kitchen  Table,  1983. 
Lowinsky.  NaomiRuth.  TheMotherline.  Every  Woman  's  JoumeytoFindHer  Femóle  Roots. 

New  York:  Jeremy  P.  Tarcher/Perigee,  1992. 
Mora,  Pat.  Chants.  Houston:  Arte  Público  Press,  1984. 
Paz,  Octavio.  El  laberinto  de  la  soledad.  México:  Fondo  de  Cultura  Económica,  1986. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  121 


Rebolledo,  Tey  Diana.  "Abuelitas:  Mythology  and  Integration  on  Chicana  Literature." 

Revista  Chicano -Riqueña  11.3-4(1983):  149-58. 
Ruelas,  J.Oshi.  "Moments  of  Change"  Revista  mujeres  4.1  (1987):  23-33. 
Salazar,  Carmen  and  Geneveive  Ramírez.  "The  Female  Hero  in  Chicano  Literature."  Beyond 

Stereotypes.  The  Criticai  Analysis  of  Chicana  Literature.  Ed.  Mana  Herrera- 

Sobek.  New  York:  BiUngual  Press,  1985.  47-60. 
Sánchez,  Marta  E.  "Villanueva's  Poetic  I."  Beyond  Stereotypes.  The  Criticai  Analysis  of 

Chicana  Literature.  Ed.  María  Herrera-Sobek.  New  York:  Bilingual  Press,  1985. 

120-42. 
Silvas,  Helen.  "MaUnche  Reborn."   Irvine  Chicano  Literary  Prize  1985-1987.  Ed.  Ivón 

Gordon  VaUakis,  1988.55. 
Villanueva,  Alma.  Bloodrooi.  Austin:  Place  of  Herons  Press,  1982. 
.  Mother,  May  I?  Pittsburgh:  Motheroot  Publications,  1978. 


0crw 


Revista  Literária  dos  Estudantes  de  Pós-Graduação  do 

DEPARTMENTO  DE  ESPANHOL  E  PORTUGUÊS 

UNIVERSIDADE  DA  CALIFÓRNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 


"Cali  for  papers" 
Convite  para  Colaborar  com  Artigos 

Número  Especial  Vol.  24.1 

sobre 

Literatura  e  Lingüística 
Brasileira/Portuguesa 

Prazo:  15  de  fevereiro  de  1995 

Para  ser  considerado  para  publicação  os  manuscritos  devem  seguir  o 
modelo  estilístico  "MLA".  Requerem-se  o  original  mais  três  cópias 
para  qualquer  colaboração.  Faça  o  favor  de  incluir  uma  carta  em 
separata  com  o  nome  e  o  endereço  do  autor;  não  escreva  o  nome  no 
manuscrito.  Envie  toda  colaboração  a: 


Mester 

Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese 

University  of  California  Los  Angeles 

405  Hilgard  Ave. 

Los  Angeles,  Ca.  90024. 


Mester,  Yol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  123 


Self-Baptizing  the  Wicked  Esperanza: 

Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contact 

in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


A  counterstance  locks  one  into  a  duel  of  oppressor  and 
oppressed;  locked  in  mortal  combat,  like  the  cop  and  the  criminal, 
both  are  reduced  to  a  common  denominator  of  violence.  The 
counterstance  refutes  the  dominant  culture' s  views  and  beliefs, 
and,  for  this,  it  is  proudly  defiant  Ali  reaction  is  limited  by,  and 
dependenton,  whatitis  reacting  against.  Because  the  counterstance 
stems  from  a  problem  with  authority — outer  as  well  as  inner — 
it's  a  step  towards  liberation  from  cultural  domination.  But  it  is 
not  a  way  of  life.  At  some  point,  on  our  way  to  a  new  conscious- 
ness,  we  will  have  to  leave  the  opposite  bank,  the  spht  between 
the  two  mortal  combatants  somehow  healed  so  that  we  are  on 
both  shores  at  once  and,  at  once,  see  through  serpent  and  eagle 
eyes. . .  The  possibihties  are  numerous  once  we  decide  to  act  and 
not  react. 

-Gloria  Anzaldúa,  Borderlands 

Chicanas  live  on  several  of  society'  s  hteral  and  metaphorical  borders.  Because 
of  their  location  in  the  geopoUtical  and  cultural  "borderlands,"  many  critics  try  to 
"read"  Chicanas  as  opposed  to  borders — in  principie.  Frequently,  people  do  not 
recognize  that  the  politicai  stances  of  Chicanas  are  a  consequence  of  their  self 
affirmation,  of  situations  in  which  they  recognize  and  créate  "active"  and  "reactive" 
selves.  Postmodem  theorists  of  identity,  for  instance,  incorrectly  read  Chicana 
identity  as  constantly  in  flux  endlessly  deconstPicting  the  very  notion  of  a  unitary 
social  and  politicai  location.  Sandra  Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango  Street  demon- 
strates  an  approach  to  identity  which  allows  the  main  character,  Esperanza  Cordero, 
lo  ñame  herself  with  the  seemingly  same  ñame  she  was  given  during  the  process 
where  she  creates  a  progressive  identity.  Esperanza  balances  past  and  present  where 
she  negotiates  history  and  culture;  her  relationship  to  both  is  a  fluid  and  progressive 
notion  of  Chicana  identity. 


124       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contad  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango  Street  illustrates  Chicana  action  and  reactíon 
through  Esperanza' s  experiences,  which  allude  to  experiences  the  reader  may  have 
in  common  witti  the  text.  A  close  reading  of  Esperanza' s  stories  reveáis  that  the 
references  are  not  as  important  as  the  speaker' s  relationship  with  the  references. 
Cisneros  uses  intertextuality  to  recognize  "worlds,"  construct  her  "world's"  com- 
munity  and  to  resist  other  "worlds."  Moments  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street  where 
a  reader  recognizes  an  allusion  is  a  moment  of  cultural  contact  where  one  of  the 
reader' s  "worlds"  has  overlapped  with  one  of  the  text's  "worlds."  When  a  reader 
recognizes  an  allusion  she  or  he  can  identify  the  borders  of  her  or  his  "world"  and 
the  text's  character's  "world."  The  House  on  Mango  Street  describes  the  story  of  a 
young  Chicana  named  Esperanza  who  grows  up  in  a  Chicana/o  working-class 
neighborhood  of  Chicago.  Within  the  vignettes  Esperanza  describes  her  experi- 
ences and  observations.  Those  experiences  intertextually  refer  to  other  aspects  of 
her  life  and  community.  Several  of  Esperanza' s  experiences  are  commonly  recog- 
nized  as  allusions,  for  example,  the  vignette  "A  House  of  My  Own"  with  Virginia 
Woolf  s  A  Room  ofOne  's  Own.  Esperanza' s  name  can  be  recognized  as  an  allusion 
to  an  overt  process  of  negotiating  various  components  of  one's  life  through 
languages  that  cross  geopolitical  borders.  Cisneros  uses  her  experiences  for 
culturally  specific  purposes  of  self-identification  and  empowerment,  and  out  of 
Esperanza' s  personal  experiences  come  a  Chicana  feminism  and  a  theoretical 
blueprint  for  cross  cultural  analysis.  Both  a  Chicana  feminism  and  cultural  contact 
are  illustrated  in  Esperanza' s  self-labeling.  To  self-label  articúlales  one's  recog- 
nized social  location  and  developed  interests. 

Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango  Street  demonstrates  Chicana  identity  through 
Esperanza'  s  self-labeling  process,  one  that  implicitly  resists  postmodem  notions  of 
identities.  In  his  essay  "The  Epistemic  Status  of  Cultural  Identity:  On  Beloved  and 
the  Postcolonial  Condition,"  Satya  P.  Mohanty  not  only  provides  a  critique  of 
postmodem  theories  of  identity  but  provides  an  altérnate  accountof  identity  he  calis 
"realist-cognitivist."  Mohanty'  s  account  engages  "the  relationship  among  personal 
experience,  social  meanings,  and  cultural  identities"  (42);  ultimately,  he  claims  that 
the  speaker' s  "new  [ornewly  articulated]  feminist  cultural  and  politicai  identity  is 
'real'  in  the  foUowing  sense:  it  refers  accurately  to  her  social  location  and  interests" 
(70).  As  Esperanza  explores  her  "worlds"  and  the  "worlds"  around  her  she  can 
recognize  her  social  position  and  develop  her  interests.  Mohanty  articulates  a 
process  where  identity  is  both  consüiicted  and  "real,"  this  theory  better  recognizes, 
and  discursively  allows  for.  Chicana  agency.  The  endless  postmodem  "flux"  is  not 
inherent  in  Chicana  identity;  rather,  it  is  ingrained  in  the  relationship  between  a 
reader  and  a  text  where  the  reader  cannot  define  the  text  by  his  or  her  specific  terms. 
This  parallels  the  difference  between  a  person  identifying  herself  and  when  she  is 
identified  by  others. 

Mohanty  directly  critiques  postmodem  notions  of  identity  that  would  label 
Chicanas  as  politicai  oppositions  in  a  constant  revolutionary  flux.  Since  Mohanty 
develops  a  more  accurate  way  to  discuss  identity  than  essentialist  and  postmodemist 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  125 


accounts,  he  provides  a  framework  that  allows  one  to  theoretically  understand 
Maria  Lugones'  essay  and  Esperanza' s  process  of  identity.  Esperanza  does  not  try 
to  escape  Chicana  culture,  nor  is  she  willing  to  remain  within  static  cultural 
frameworks.  While  Mohanty  describes  the  recognition  of  one's  social  location  and 
development  of  her  interests  he  utilizes  the  language  "her  worid"  (49).  This 
language  of  "worlds"  is  the  crux  of  Maria  Lugones'  ideas  in  her  essay  "Playfuhiess, 
'World' -Travelhng  and  Loving  Perception."  Unlike  Mohanty's  direct  critique  of 
postmodem  notions  of  identity,  Lugones  discusses  identity  firom  her  own  perspec- 
tive, a  u^aditionally  marginalized  Chicana.  Lugones  "[comes]  to  consciousness  as 
a  daughter  and ...  as  a  woman  of  color"  (390).  As  she  works  with  the  complexities 
of  pluralistic  feminism  she  states  and  demonstrates  the  process  of  self-affirmation 
and  the  interaction  of  various  cultiu^es,  or  "worlds."  The  House  on  Mango  Street 
depicts  this  process.  Mohanty  navigates  through  accepted  theories  of  identity  that 
pre-label  marginalized  "worlds"  as  creating  a  revolutionary  flux.  Lugones  impUc- 
itly  utilizes  Mohanty's  theory  in  her  method  of  self-labeling  and  consciousness 
raising.  Mohanty's  and  Lugones'  analyses  créate  a  more  accurate  account  of 
identity  and  provide  a  better  way  to  read  Sandra  Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango 
Street. 

María  Lugones'  essay  allows  us  to  speak  of  "redefmitions"  as  moments  of 
cultural,  or  "world,"  contact  and  illuminates  the  active  aspect  of  these  Chicana 
feminists'  projects.  Not  only  does  Maria  Lugones'  essay  impücitly  demand  a 
feminist  reading  of  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  but  her  concept  of  " 'world' - 
traveling"  provides  a  way  to  express  what  appear  to  be  "allusions"  as  moments  of 
cultural  (or  "world")  contact.  She  conceptualizes  "worlds"  as  a  metaphor  that 
illustrates  Latinas'  social  position  as  consisting  of  múltiple  components  or  influ- 
ences.  Rather  than  a  postmodem  description  which  only  allows  Chicana  voices  to 
serve  politicai  and  theoretical  purposes  as  part  of  a  "flux"  in  the  status  quo,  Lugones 
creates  a  framework  in  which  she  can  lócate  Chicana  feminist  theories  in  personal 
relationships.  Lugones  uses  her  relationship  with  her  mother  to  initially  articúlate 
"world"  differences.  She  then  defines  or  describes  these  differences  when  she 
estabhshes  her  "worlds"  metaphor.  Lugones  states: 

I  do  not  want  the  fixity  of  a  definition  because  I  think  the  term  is 
suggestive  and  I  do  not  want  to  lose  this.  A  "world"  has  to  be 
presently  inhabited  by  flesh  and  blood  people.  That  is  why  it 
cannot  be  a  utopia.  It  may  also  be  inhabited  by  some  imaginary 
people.  It  may  be  inhabited  by  people  who  are  dead  or  people  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  "world"  met  in  some  other  "world'  and  now 
have  in  this  "world"  in  imagination.  (395) 

Lugones  uses  her  concept  of  "worlds"  to  develop  '"world"'  in  order  to  see  how  she 
and  others  simultaneously  occupy  a  multiplicity  of  "worlds"  while  they  simulta- 
neously  maintain  their  central  "world."  In  addition,  '"world"'  is  a  skill  where  one 


126       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contact  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


can  act  within  "worlds"  that  may  not  be  hers.  A  Chicana  is  the  intersection  of  her 
"worlds,"  a  "world"  of  intersections.  Some  "worlds"  are  Chicana,  woman,  New 
México,  ali  of  which  are  experienced  simultaneously,  not  exclusively.  When 
Lugones  describes  to  her  mother'  s  "worlds"  she  must  try  to  "see"  reality  through  the 
eyes  of  a  woman  from  Argentina.  She  properly  "'world' -traveis"  when  she  is  "at 
ease"  in  another  "world."  There  are  four  ways  Lugones  says  one  can  be  "at  ease  in 
a  'world"':  to  be  a  fluent  speaker  in  that  "world,"  to  be  normatively  happy  in  the 
"world,"  to  be  humanly  bonded  in  that  "world,"  and  to  have  a  shared  history  with 
other  people  in  that  "world."  In  her  narrative,  Esperanza  tries  to  feel  "at  ease"  with 
certain  components  of  her  identity.  When  she  recognizes  her  "world"  she  senses  that 
her  "emotions"  are  legitímate.  In  Cisneros  text,  for  her  to  feel  "at  ease"  implies  that 
yoimg  Esperanza  must  identify  her  own  "worlds,"  at  times  by  first  identifying  other 
dominant  "worlds."  Only  then  can  Esperanza  construct  herself  and  recognize  her 
"real"  identity. 

In  order  to  recognize  Esperanza' s  identity,  a  reader  should  first  recognize  her 
or  his  own  "worlds."  We  can  recognize  a  "world"  by  identifying  its  border.  Our 
selection  of  what  qualifies  as  an  "allusion"  (as  opposed  to  that  which  we  have  not 
experienced  or  recognized  in  Cisneros'  text)  helps  illustrate  our  own  "world."  What 
appears  to  be  an  "allusion"  is  merely  where  one  of  the  reader' s  experiences 
intersects  with  the  speaker' s.  In  Cisneros'  text,  self-labeling  illustrates  Esperanza' s 
process  of  empo  werment.  Within  each  of  these  components  of  the  process  are  what 
readers  from  "worlds"  other  than  Esperanza' s  may  refer  to  as  "allusions."  By  first 
understanding  the  process  of  empowerment,  we  can  then  see  how  those  experi- 
ences, would-be  "allusions,"  function.  Rather  than  allusions,  which  trivialize  the 
references  as  Cisneros'  attempt  to  make  a  statement,  the  references  are  another 
component  in  Esperanza' s  identity  and  process  of  empowerment.  In  Sandra 
Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  Esperanza  Cordero  not  only  illustrates  how 
naming  herself  with  her  grandmother'  s  name  is  progressi  ve,  but  that  in  the  (Chicana 
feminist)  process  Esperanza  gains  agency  as  she  better  understands  her  personal 
relationships  to  social  and  cultural  meanings. 

Self-Labeling  and  Self-Baptism 

While  I  advócate  putting  Chicana,  tejana,  working-class,  dyke- 
feminist  poet,  writer-theorist  in  front  of  my  name,  I  do  so  for 
reasons  different  than  those  of  the  dominant  culture.  Their 
reasons  are  to  marginalize,  confine  and  contain.  My  labeling  of 
my  self  is  so  that  the  Chicana  and  lesbian  and  ali  the  other  persons 
in  me  don't  get  erased,  omitted  or  killed.  Naming  is  how  I  make 
my  presence  known,  how  I  assert  who  and  what  I  am  and  want  to 
be  known  as.  Naming  myself  is  a  survival  tactic. 

Gloria  Anzaldúa,  "To(o)  Queer  the  Writer" 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  127 


The  distinction  made  in  Anzaldúa'  s  epigraph  above  between  being  labeled  and 
self-labeling  is  the  same  distinction  between  one'  s  marginalizatíon  and  the  survival 
of  each  component  of  one's  self.  Anzaldúa  later  summarizes  this  distinction  as,  "La 
persona  está  situada  ¿/en/ro  de  la  idea  en  vez  del  revés  "  (InVersions  252,  her  italics). 
In  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  Esperanza  counters  the  fragmenting  effects  of 
osmotic  labels  and  split  subjectivities.  The  sectíon  "My  Ñame"  may  seem  like  an 
allusion  to  the  history  of  Esperanza' s  family,  but  it  represents  a  label  imposed  from 
one  "world,"  not  necessarily  by  the  matrilineal  past,  onto  another  where  two 
"worlds,"  the  family' s  past  and  present,  overlap  and  infonn  each  other.  Ñames  not 
only  remind  you  who  you  are  in  your  family  context,  but  when  your  ñame  originates 
from  a  seemingly  "foreign"  language  it  also  reminds  you  of  your  "foreign"  status. 
Her  great-grandmother's  ñame  has  varióos  connotatíons  which  Esperanza  receives 
mosüy  through  osmosis.  As  a  first  or  second  generation  Chicana  in  Chicago, 
Esperanza  is  part  of  at  least  two  "worlds"  to  which  her  grandmother  does  not  belong. 
Because  these  connotatíons  do  not  encompass  all  of  Esperanza' s  selves,  they  split 
her  "real"  subjectivity.  Esperanza  does  not  want  to  deny  the  ñame,  she  wants  to 
"baptize  myself  (11).  At  baptism  the  Catholic  child  receives  a  saint's  ñame  in 
addition  to  her  other  ñames.  That  saint  becomes  her  paü^on  saint.  In  77?^  House  on 
Mango  Street,  Esperanza  becomes  her  own  patrón  saint.  After  Esperanza  recog- 
nizes  her  Chicana  experiences,  her  self-label(s)  add  components  to  her  ñame  to 
solidify  her  subjectivities,  not  reducing  any  one  to  another.  Esperanza  recognizes 
how  imposed  labels  reveal  other  "worlds"'  constructions  of  her,  then  she  labels 
herself  and  ü^nsforms  "Esperanza."  By  analyzing  the  initial  "Esperanza"  and  the 
transformed  "Esperanza"  we  can  better  understand  how  the  initial  discussion  of  the 
family'  s  past  matrilineal  "world"  is  a  moment  when  two  "worlds,"  Esperanza'  s  and 
her  great-grandmother's,  intersect. 

In  "My  Ñame,"  Esperanza  discusses  how  she  inherits  her  great-grandmother's 
ñame.  Esperanza  says,  "I  am  Esperanza"  instead  of,  "my  ñame  is  Esperanza."  The 
former  signifies  Esperanza' s  intemalization  of  other  people's  labels,  the  latter 
would  aUow  Esperanza  to  maintain  a  distance,  or  gap,  with  which  she  can  defend 
and  free  herself.  This  "gap"  arises  because  of  contradictions  between  her  actual 
experiences  and  labels  imposed  on  her.  This  same  "gap"  can  exist  between  different 
"worlds."  In  English,  Esperanza'  s  ñame  sounds  to  her  like  "tin"  and  "painful"  (11), 
whereas  in  Spanish  her  ñame  is  "too  many  letters,"  "sadness,"  and  "waiting"  (10). 
As  an  individual  bom  in  the  United  States  with  a  Spanish  ñame,  "Esperanza"  has 
múltiple  connotations.  In  Engüsh  "esperanza"  literally  translates  as  "hope"  and  in 
Spanish  the  ñame  carnes  with  it  family  stories  and  tiaditions  of  her  Mexican  great- 
grandmotiier's  life.  When  she  observes  her  contemporary  friends'  domestic  entrap- 
ment,  Esperanza  openly  refuses  the  place  by  the  window  that  her  ñame  may 
traditionally  mean:  "1  have  inherited  her  ñame,  but  1  don'  t  want  to  inherit  her  place 
by  the  window"  (11). 

In  the  vignette  "The  House  on  Mango  Stieet,"  we  immediately  see  Esperanza 
labeled,  euphemistically,  by  the  nun: 


128       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contact  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


Where  do  you  live?  she  asked. 

There,  I  said  pointing  up  to  the  third  floor. 

You  live  there? 

There.  I  had  to  look  to  where  she  pointed — the  third  floor,  the 

paint  peeUng,  wooden  bars  Papa  had  nailed  on  the  windows  so  we 

wouldn't  fali  out.  You  live  there?  The  way  she  said  it  made  me 

feel  like  nothing.  There.  I  lived  there.  I  nodded.  (5) 

Later,  Sister  Superior  mistakes  a  run-down  house  as  Esperanzaos,  who  does  not 
correct  her.  When  the  nuns  mislabel  Esperanza'  s  home  as  poor,  they  simultaneously 
mislabel  her.  Esperanza  feels  like  "nothing";  in  those  nuns'  eyes  Esperanza  is  what 
they  construct  her  as:  a  woricing-class  Chicana.  Later,  in  "Geraldo,"  a  person 
without  a  home  and  a  name,  in  effect  an  individual  not  labeled  by  the  dominant 
culture  through  "legal"  immigration  documentation,  is  cut  off  from  ali "  world"  ties. 
Geraldo' s  life  intersects  with  Esperanza' s  through  Marin's  story  of  her  dance  with 
Geraldo.  As  quickly  as  Esperanza  encounters  Geraldo' s  story,  he  leaves.  Just  as  the 
nun's  incorrect  label  excludes  some  of  Esperanza' s  components,  Geraldo' s  "no 
name"  isolates  and  marginalizes  the  entire  individual.  Esperanza  tells  us  that  she 
feels  like  nothing;  she  imphcitly  recognizes  split  subjectivities  and  senses  that 
people  in  positions  of  power  (iniss)label  others. 

For  women  of  color,  race  and  gender  is  split  and  labeled  separately  by  outside 
communities.  Esperanza  encounters  gendered  "worlds"  and  forced  separation  with 
the  ability  of  men  of  color  to  define  women  within  their  respective  culture  when  she 
describes  her  grandmother's  Mexican  culture,  "Chinese,  like  the  Mexicans,  don't 
like  their  women  strong"  (10).  The  men  of  color  label  women's  strength  as  "bad." 
Esperanza  reveáis  her  recognition  of  Cathy's  different  ethnic  "world"  when  Lucy 
and  Rachel,  two  Chicanas,  react  to  her  name,  "but  when  I  tell  them  my  name  they 
don'  t  laugh"  (14).  The  "but"  distinguishes  the  girls'  reaction  from  the  one  to  which 
Esperanza  is  accustomed.  Esperanza  recognizes  two  "worlds,"  Cathy '  s  "world"  and 
Lucy  and  Rachel 's  "world,"  and  she  decides  that  she  feels  more  "at  ease"  in  the 
young  Chicana  working-class  "world"  that  she  shares  with  Lucy  and  Rachel. 

Esperanza  in  vestigates  nicknames.  Meme  Ortiz'  s  name,  according  to  Esperanza, 
is  "Juan."  Esperanza  calis  him  "Meme,"  what  he  labels  himself.  Meme's  dog  has 
two  names,  one  in  Spanish  and  one  in  English.  Esperanza  emphasizes  the  dog's 
ability  to  have  two  names  over  the  actual  names,  which  she  never  states.  The 
characters  refer  to  the  dog  as  "the  dog  with  two  names."  The  stories  resonate  with 
the  same  bilingualism  which  creates  the  gaps  Esperanza  explores  in  her  own  name. 
Not  only  does  Esperanza' s  grandmother's  name  come  from  a  past  generation,  but 
it  is  also  from  México,  the  same  differences  between  Meme  and  his  mother. 
Esperanza  recognizes  her  friends'  multitude  of  names  and  nicknames  only  to  be 
frustrated  with  her  own  labeled  self,  "I  am  always  Esperanza"  as  opposed  to 
"Magdalena  who  at  least  can  come  home  and  become  Nenny"  (11).  Esperanza 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  129 


wants  to  baptize  herself  to  give  herself  more  names.  Just  as  her  friends  have  different 
names  depending  on  whether  or  not  they  are  in  school,  at  home,  or  playing  with 
friends,  Esperanza  also  wants  ali  her  various  components  to  be  recognized. 
Esperanza  either  wants  to  créate  more  names  or  add  more  liberating  components  to 
her  name,  a  name  like  "Zeze  the  X."  Esperanza  wants  to  b^tize  herself  and  place 
the  sacred  ability,  and  its  power,  within  herself.  The  sign  of  Esperanza' s  baptism 
will  be  her  self-labeled  name. 

In  order  to  baptize  herself  under  a  new  name,  Esperanza  must  first  understand 
the  labeling  process.  Esperanza recognizes  early  in  the  text  that  she  feels  uncomfort- 
able  when  the  nuns  position  her;  she  later  recognizes  that  "worlds"  label  according 
to  their  respective  experiences.  In  "Those  Who  Don't,"  Esperanza  sees  the  scared 
strangers  in  her  neighborhood.  These  "strangers"  in  her  community  fear  the 
faceless,  unnamable,  threats  that  Esperanza' s  neighbors  represent.  Esperanza 
simply  discusses  these  fears  as  ridiculous  when  she  names  and  describes  the  people 
in  order  to  contextualize  the  fears  bom  out  of  skeleton  stereotypes: 

But  we  aren't  afraid.  We  know  the  guy  with  the  crooked  eye  is 
Davey  the  Baby's  brother,  and  the  tall  one  next  to  him  in  the 
straw  brim,  that's  Rosa's  Eddie  V.  and  the  big  one  that  looks 
like  a  dumb  grown  man,  he's  Fat  Boy,  though  he's  not  fat 
anymore  nor  a  boy.  (28) 

Esperanza  ef  fecti  vely  counters  the  way  the  strangers  construct  her  neighbors  as  she 
connects  them  to  each  other  and  personal  experiences.  However,  she  then  describes 
how  she  constructs  other  "worlds."  This  transition  illustrates  Esperanza' s  recogni- 
tion  that  she  perceives  others  the  same  way  others  perceive  and  construct  her.  She 
recognizes  herself  as  a  labeler  and  not  just  the  labeled.  Esperanza  then  begins  to 
label  several  objects. 

In  'T)arius  &  the  Clouds,"  Esperanza  associates  the  sky  and  clouds  to  her  name, 
"You  can  never  have  too  much  sky.  You  can  fali  asleep  and  wake  up  drunk  on  sky, 
and  sky  can  keep  you  safe  when  you  are  sad"  (33).  The  sky  is  a  sense  of  hope,  or 
esperanza.  Esperanza  then  admires  Darius  who  points  to  the  sky  full  of  clouds  and 
he  says,  "You  ali  see  that  cloud . . .  That  one  next  to  the  one  that  look  like  popcom. 
That  one  there.  See  that  That's  God, . . .  God,  he  said,  and  made  it  simple"  (34).  In 
this  section  Darius  names  the  sky  sacred,  God.  Esperanza  associates  her  name  with 
the  sky,  and  approves  Darius'  declaration  of  holiness  for  the  sky;  she  begins  to 
baptize  herself  by  giving  her  name  new  meanings.  Immediately  following,  Esperanza 
begins  to  label  the  clouds.  She  labels  the  sky  as  hope  and  holy.  Since  her  name  is 
Esperanza,  "hope,"  she  equates  herself  to  the  power  of  the  sacred  through  the  labels. 

In  "And  Some  More,"  the  children  discuss  how  Eskimos  have  thirty  names  for 
snow.  As  the  Chicanas  realize  that  they  only  have  two,  clean  and  dirty  snow,  we  see 
how  Esperanza  and  her  friends  name  objects  on  the  basis  of  their  personal 
experiences.  "Shaving  cream"  cloud,  "pig-eye"  cloud,  and  "like  you  combed  its 


130       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contad  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


hair"  cloud  are  ali  reminiscent  of  the  way  in  which  experiences  inforai  Esperanza'  s 
"reading"  of  the  children  in  her  neighborhood  that  scare  the  strangers.  In  both 
vignettes,  Esperanza  reveáis  how  people's  experiences,  ignorance  included,  deter- 
mine labels.  The  children  then  move  from  merely  naming  clouds  to  concurrently 
naming  themselves,  simultaneously  positioning  themselves  as  sacred  and  as  self- 
labelers:  "Names  for  clouds?  Nenny  asks,  names  just  like  you  and  me"  (36).  For  the 
remainder  of  the  vignette,  children' s  names  intersect  the  discussion  of  the  clouds 
until  the  end  of  Lucy  and  Esperanza' s  bickering  and  name  (label)  calling  when 
Esperanza  asks,  "Who's  stupid?"  and  the  vignette  finishes  with  "Rachel,  Lucy, 
Esperanza,  and  Nenny"  (38).  They  are  stupid  for  trying  to  define,  name  or  label  each 
other  and  limit  each  other's  imaginations.  As  Anzaldúa  indicates  in  the  epigraph, 
to  place  labels  on  another  marginalizes  her,  unlike  self-labels  which  empower  each 
component  of  one's  self. 

Another  component  in  the  process  of  self-labeling  is  Esperanza' s  recognition 
of  the  word  "bad"  and  how  people  construct  her  as  "bad."  Throughout  the  text 
people,  the  nuns,  her  friends  and  herself,  label  Esperanza  "bad,"  evil.  She  subverts 
the  word  in  order  to  resist  being  "bad."  Esperanza  reflects  on  her  father's  opinión 
of  "bad,"  "Papa  said  nobody  went  to  public  school  unless  you  wanted  to  tum  out 
bad"  (53).  One  vignette  later,  in  "Bom  Bad,"  she  tells  us  she  and  her  friends 
mimicked  her  Aunt  Lupe.  Esperanza  says  that  she  "was  bom  on  an  evil  day  .  .  . 
because  of  what  we  did  to  Aunt  Lupe"  (58).  However,  as  Esperanza  acknowledges 
her  condenmation  and  constmction  by  other  "worlds"  as  "bad,"  she  also  begins  to 
make  the  word  mean  more  and  people'  s  ability  to  label  someone  as  "bad"  mean  less. 
Esperanza  discusses  her  Aunt  Lupe:  "I  don'  t  know  who  decides  who  deserves  to  go 
bad.  There  was  no  evil  in  her  birth.  No  wicked  curse.  One  day  I  beUeve  she  was 
swimming,  and  the  next  day  she  was  sick"  (59).  The  question  of  who  deserves  to  be 
"bad"  is  twofold.  Up  until  this  point,  "bad"  refers  to  Esperanza' s  break  from  static 
and  oppressive  traditions.  She  successfully  questions  others'  authority  to  label  her 
and  subverts  the  word  by  using  its  other  meaning,  poor  health.  After  reading  the 
word  one  recognizes  that  Esperanza  does  not  speak  of  evil  but  of  her  aunt'  s  illness. 
Even  though  Esperanza  says  she  is  bad,  she  is  foUowing  her  Aunt  Lupe' s  advice  and 
writing — like  a  "good"  girl  who  listens  to  the  eider  women.  Esperanza  removes  the 
connotation  of  evil  from  "bad,"  implicitly  removing  evil  from  her  sacred  self.  The 
same  shift  in  meaning  occurs  in  "Beautiful  &  Cruel."  Esperanza  has  been  labeled 
as  ugly  by  most  of  society,  yet  she  speaks  confidently,  like  the  "pretty"  Nenny, 
without  having  to  cater  to  the  whims  of  society.  She  refuses  the  labels.  Cisneros 
titles  the  vignette  "Beautiful  &  Cruel"  instead  of  "Ugly  &  Timid;"  Esperanza' s 
"cruelty"  is  that  which  makes  her  beautiful  to  herself.  She  reverses  the  genders  of 
a  conmion  idiom,  "I  have  decided  not  to  grow  up  tame  like  the  others  who  lay  their 
necks  on  the  threshold  waiting  for  the  bali  and  chain"(SS;  emphasis  mine).  The  man 
restrains,  weighs  down,  Esperanza,  a  woman,  from  moving  to  be  free. 

Finally,  in  "Three  Sisters,"  one  of  the  comadres  asks  Esperanza,  "What's 
your  name, . . .  Esperanza,  1  said"  (104).  For  the  first  time  Esperanza  makes  no 


Mester,  VoL  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  131 


apologies  for  her  name  nor  does  she  express  desire  for  another.  She  identifies 
her  name  as  "Esperanza."  At  this  point  she  has  begun  to  recognize  the 
complexity  of  herself  and  the  possible  connotations  in  her  name.  We,  as 
readers,  can  know  that  Esperanza  fmally  approves  of  her  own  name  because  she 
is  constantly  amazed  that  the  comadres  can  know  how  Esperanza  feels. 
"Esperanza ...  a good  good name"  (104).  As  Gloria  Anzaldúa asserts,  adjectives 
are  used  to  "marginalize,  confine  and  constrain"  (JnVersions  250).  These 
imposed  limits  reveal  how  those  "worlds"  construct  individuais.  In  contrast, 
Anzaldúa  labels  herself  for  survival,  "so  that  ali  the  other  persons  in  me  don't 
get  erased,  omitted  or  killed"  (251).  Finally,  Anzaldúa  suggests  that  many 
scholars  misread  aspects  of  Chicana  literatures  as  upholding  stereotypes, 
"[f]requently  people  fail  to  see  the  radicalness  of  presenting  traditional  sce- 
narios"  (254).  At  the  end  of  the  text,  Esperanza  labels  herself  "Esperanza."  She 
uses  the  name  given  to  her  so  she  can  maintain  her  ties  with  her  matrilineal  past 
"worlds"  and  include  present  "worlds'"  meanings  which  were  previously 
excluded:  a  radical,  non-individualistic  gestare. 

I  do  not  use  Esperanza'  s  name  as  a  suggestion  that  everyone  is  familiar  with  her 
great-grandmother's  "world"  or  that  this  is  a  traditional  allusion  by  any  definition. 
Rather  that  precisely  because  it  is  not  an  allusion,  but  a  moment  of  cultural  contact 
where  the  characters'  and  reader's  "worlds"  intersect,  we  can  better  understand  how 
Cisneros'  text  reveáis  what  ^pear  to  be  obvious  "allusions"  as  moments  of  contact. 
Virginia  Woolfs  A  Room  ofOne's  Own  is  not  only  an  "allusion";  it  is  another 
component  of  Esperanza' s  experiences  and  her  process  of  empowerment  As 
reader,  I  cannot  define  the  moment  as  an  "allusion"  according  to  my  relationship  to 
the  depicted  experience.  Not  only  does  the  reader'  s  "world"  touch  Esperanza's,  but 
Esperanza' s  interacts  and  negotiates  with  her  great-grandmother's  "world."  Sónia 
Saldívar-Hull  gives  us  two  ways  of  reading  the  latter  moments  of  cultural  contact: 

Are  we  to  read  the  great-grandmother's  historia  as  a  cautionary 
tale  that  the  women  of  her  family  pass  on,  waming  succeeding 
generations  of  the  consequences  for  women  who  passively 
accept  men'  s  rules?  Or  is  the  story  instead  a  master  narrative  that 
the  women  take  up  as  their  own  and  thereby  unwittingly  repro- 
duce their  own  oppression  and  exploitation  by  their  men?  (106) 

As  Saldívar-Hull  say  s,  "Esperanza  resolves  not  to  dupUcate  her  great-grandmother'  s 
history."  This  is  the  same  radicalness  of  which  Anzaldúa  speaks.  The  process, 
which  includes  these  moments,  allows  one  to  self-consciously  label  that  which  she 
experiences.  Esperanza  is  bad  and  hope,  esperanza.  Since  Esperanza  begins  to 
actively  self-label  and  explore  her  "badness,"  she  is  considered  wicked,  unwilling 
to  assimilate  to  other  "worlds"'  definitions. 


132       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contact  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


Conclusión 

Sandra  Cisneros  distinguishes  writing  or  telling  stories  for  herself  and  writíng 
them  to  teach  an  audience.  In  Rodríguez  Aranda's  "On  the  Solitary  Fate  of  Being 
Mexican,  Female,  Wicked  and  Thirty-three:  An  Interview  with  Writer  Sandra 
Cisneros,"  Cisneros  discusses  her  teaching  methods.  When  she  tries  to  develop  the 
students'  story telling  abilities,  Cisneros  uses  references  to  stories  she  and  the 
students  have  in  common: 

If  I  said,  "Now,  do  you  remember  when  Rumple .. .  ?"  They 'd  say : 
"Who?",  or  they  more  or  less  would  know  the  story.  Or  if  Fd 
make  an  allusion  to  the  "Little  Mermaid"  or  the  "Snow  Queen," 
which  are  very  important  fairytales  to  me,  and  an  integral  part  of 
my  childhood  and  my  storytelling  ability  today!...  ¡No  hombre! 
They  didn't  know  what  I  was  talking  about.  But  if  I  made  an 
illusion  to  Fred  Flintstone,  everyone  knew  who  Fred  Flintstone 
was.  (76-77) 

In  The  House  on  Mango  Street  Cisneros  uses  her  stories,  not  stories  she  has  in 
conmion  with  her  students.  The  fairytales  are  experiences  which  help  Cisneros,  and 
Esperanza  in  the  book,  develop  her  storytelling  abilities.  The  so-called  "allusions" 
are  experiences  that  she  uses  in  order  to  empower  herself.  Although  Cisneros  uses 
them  in  her  class,  in  order  to  make  "world"  contact,  the  primary  objective  is  to  make 
whole  her  Chicana  subjectivity  and  unite  her  community.  But,  the  references  used 
must  be  understood  in  the  context  of  The  House  on  Mango  Street"  s  process  of 
empowerment,  nor  a  hterary  tool  or  politicai  opposition.  Recognition  of  an  allusion 
simply  means  that  the  speaker' s  "world"  and  the  reader's  "world"  have  overlapped 
and  both  recognize  the  same  reference  which  indicates  brief  moments  of  cultural 
contact.  A  Chicana  reader,  who  presumably  shares  many  of  Cisneros'  "worlds," 
understands  Esperanza' s  experiences  and  the  references  color  those  experiences 
empower  their  lives.  A  non-Chicana(o)  may  use  the  references  in  order  to  better 
understand  the  text  because  s/he  shares  some  "worlds"  and  not  others.  However,  s/ 
he  must  realize  that  Esperanza  does  not  "allude  to"  her  great-grandmother's  ñame, 
Euroamerican  fairytales,  or  Virginia  Woolf  for  the  reader  ofnon-Chicana  "worlds"; 
she  identifies  her  "worlds"  and  experiences  with  those  other  "worlds."  For  a  non- 
Chicana  to  traditionally  define  Cisneros'  Chicana  feminist  process  of  empower- 
ment is  an  attempt  to  understand  Esperanza  by  pre-labeling,  and  mislabeling,  her  as 
a  postmodem  individual.  This  would  ignore  Chicana  identity. 

Consequently ,  Sandra  Cisneros'  The  House  on  Mango  Street  should  be  read  as 
a  proactive  Chicana  feminist  text.  Esperanza' s  experiences  with  her  names  are 
interwoven  with  her  motifs  of  empowerment:  self-bapüsm.  In  order  to  construct  her 
house  in  which  she  can  proactively  write  her  own  story,  Esperanza  identifies,  resists. 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  133 


and  constnicts  "worlds."  As  she  does,  young  Esperanza,  like  many  Chicanas, 
realizes  that  in  many  "worlds"  she  is  constructed  as  "bad"  because  she  wants  to  be 
active,  vocally  and  sexually .  In  her  essay  "My  Wicked  Wicked  Ways:  The  Chicana 
Writer'  s  Stmggle  With  Good  and  Evil  or  Las  Hijas  de  la Malavida,"  Cisneros  says: 
"In  contrast  [to  being  bad],  some  times  the  wicked  stance  can  be  an  attractive  one, 
a  way  to  reverse  the  negative  stereotype . . .  There  is  strength  in  exchanging  shame 
for  pride,  in  redefming  oneself  (18).  By  recognizing  her  social  location  and 
controUing  how  she  constnicts  herself,  Esperanza  can  then  construct  her  house  as 
"clean  as  paper  before  the  põem"  (108),  loose  from  static  and  oppressive  cultural 
ties.  Depending  on  your  "world,"  the  references,  moments  of  cultural  contact,  are 
simultaneously  a  Chicana'  s  experience  or  a  reference  that  makes  the  text  accessible 
for  a  foreign  reader.  The  same  way,  depending  on  how  your  "world"  constructs 
Sandra  Cisneros  and  Esperanza  Cordero,  the  Chicanas  are  simultaneously  bad  and 
wicked,  esperanza. 

In  their  essays,  Mohanty  and  Lugones  both,  although  differently,  discuss  the 
relationships  between  personal  experiences,  social  meanings  and  cultural  identities. 
Because  of  these  abundant  combinations,  to  identify  other  people  is  a  complex 
attempt  to  negotiate  one's  own  interpretations  with  those  of  another.  Lugones  says 
those  in  marginalized  cultures  "are  known  only  to  the  extent  that  they  are  known  in 
several  'worlds'  and  as  'world' -travelers"  (401).  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  confuse 
these  múltiple  "worlds"  as  the  person's  identity;  even  though,  as  Lugones  also 
States,  without  knowing  the  other' s  "worlds"  one  does  not  know  the  other.  Several 
"worlds"  influence  Esperanza,  but  she  never  ceases  to  be  in  the  young-Chicana-in- 
Chicago  "world."  Herrecognition  of  this  "world"  and  her  self-affirmation  créate  her 
confidence  to  declare  "Esperanza"  as  the  new,  radical  name.  Esperanza' s  identity, 
after  the  process  of  the  text,  accurately  recognizes  her  social  location  and  allows  her 
to  develop  her  personal  interests. 

Juan  Daniel  Busch 

University  of  Caüfomia,  Los  Angeles 


WORKS  CITED 


Anzaldúa,  Gloria.  Borde rlands/La  Frontera:  The  New  Mestiza.  San  Francisco:  spinsters/ 

aunt  lute,  1987. 
.  'To(o)  Queer  the  Writer-  Loca,  escritora  y  chicana."  In  Versions.  Ed,  Betsy  Warland. 

Vancouver:  Press  Gang  Pub.,  1991. 
Cisneros,  Sandra.  The  House  on  Mango  Street.  New  York:  Vintage  Books,  1989. 
- — — .  "Do  You  Know  Me?:  I  Wrote  The  House  on  Mango  Street."  The  Américas  Review 

XV  (Spring,  1987):  77-79. 
— .  "Ghosts  and  Voices:  Writing  From  Obsession."  Tht  Américas  Review  XV  (Spring, 


134       Chicana  Feminism  and  Cultural  Contad  in  The  House  on  Mango  Street 


1987):  69-73. 
.  "My  Wicked  Wicked  Ways:  The  Chicana  Writer's  Struggle  With  Good  and  Evil  or 

Las  Hijas  de  la  Malavida."  Unpublished  manuscripL 

.  "Notes  to  a  Young(er)  Writer."  The  Amerícíw  Review  XV  (Spring,  1987):  74-76. 

Lugones,  Maria.  "Playfulness,  'World'  and  Loving  Perception."  Mo^m^  Face,  Making  SouU 

Haciendo  Caras.  Ed.  Gloria  Anzaldúa.  San  Francisco:  Aunt  Lute  Foundation, 

1990.  390-402. 
Mercer,  Kobena. '"  1968' :  Periodizing  Politics  and  Identity."  Cultural  Studies.  Ed.  Lawrence 

Grossberg,  Cary  Nelson,  Paula  Treichler.  New  York:  Routledge,  1992.  424-449. 
Mohanty,  Satya  P.  "The  Epistemic  Status  of  Cultural  Identity:  On  Beloved    and  the 

Posteo  lonialCondition."  C«/rura/ CririçM^.  Oxford  University  Press:  1993.  Spring 

number  24:  41-80. 
Rodríguez  Aranda,  Pilar  E.  "On  the  Solitary  Fate  of  Being  Mexican,  Female,  Wicked  and 

Thirty-three:  An  Interview  with  Writer  Sandra  Cisneros."  The  Américas  Review. 

USA:  1990.  Spring  V18(l)p.64-80. 
Saldívar-Hull,  Sónia.  "Feminism  on  the  Border:  From  Gender  Politics  to  Geopolitics." 

Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideol- 

ogy.  Ed.  Héctor  Calderón  and  José  David  Saldívar.  Durham:  Duke  University 

Press,  1991.  203-220. 
.  Feminism  on  the  border:  From  Gender  Politics  to  Geopolitics.  University  of  Texas 

at  Austin  PhD  Dissertation.  Michigan:  UML  1990. 
Sarris,  Greg.  Keeping  Slug  Woman  Alive:  A  Holistic  Approach  to  American  Indian  Texis. 

California:  University  of  California  Press,  1993. 
Woolf,  Virginia.  A  Room  ofOne  's  Own.  San  Diego,  New  York:  HarcourtBrace  Jovanovich, 

1957. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  135 


A  Feminist  and  Postmodernist  Dialogue 
with  Chicano  Males  and  México 

or 
Deconstructing  the  Prison  House  of 
Sexist  Language  and  Structures 

Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


Introduction 

The  novel  Paletitas  de  guayaba  (1991)  by  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry  repre- 
sents — as  held  by  the  interviewers — a  pivotal  contributíon  to  Southwest  Mexican 
narrative  on  two  leveis:  1 )  the  first  major  literary  dialogue  with  Mexican  society  and 
letters  and  2)  an  excelling  postmodernist  text.  Using  various  innovative  narrative 
techniques  to  bracket  traditional  novelistic  elements,  such  as  time,  space,  character, 
language,  the  text  questions  the  narrative  act  itself,  marking  in  key  instances  the 
message  as  a  cali  for  the  feminization  of  a  still  predominantly  masculinized  Azítón 
and  México. 

Keeping  in  mind  research  on  the  Chicano  novel  by  Juan  Bruce-Novoa, 
Salvador  Rodríguez  del  Pino,  Vemon  E.  Lattin  and  Manuel  de  Jesús  Hemández- 
G.  as  well  as  significam  writings  in  Chicana  feminist  theory  and  literary  criticism 
by  Norma  Alarcón,  Cherríe  Moraga,  Gloria  Anzaldúa  and  Angie  Chabram- 
Demersesian,  the  interviewers  designed  questions  that  elicit  fundamental  answers 
(biography,  education,  ideology)  from  Gonzales-Berry  to  establish  a  place  for 
Paletitas  in  the  narrative  canon.  They  believe  this  text's  contribution  to  the 
Southwest  Mexican  novel  semantically  empties  the  signifiers  in  the  statement,  "I 
dabble  in  creative  writing,"  by  Gonzales-Berry;  rather,  in  Paletitas  language 
betrayed  her  and  "said  a  whole  lot  of  things  [the  author]  wasn'  t  particularly  bent  on 
saying." 

In  the  Southwest  Mexican  narrative,  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry  made  her  first 


136  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


contributíon  as  a  critic.  The  articles,  ""Caras  viejas  y  vino  nuevo:  Joumey  Through 
a  Disintegrating  Barrio"  (1979)  and  "Estampas  del  valle:  From  Costumbrismo  to 
Self-Reflecting  Literature"  (1980),  were  both  included  in  the  important  criticai 
anthology  Contemporary  Chicano  Fiction:  A  Criticai  Survey  (1986)  edited  by 
Vemon  E.  Lattin,  She  (with  Tey  Diana  Rebolledo)  is  also  known  for  one  of  the  first 
important  essays  on  The  House  on  Mango  Street,  "Growing  Up  Chicano:  Tomás 
Rivera  and  Sandra  Cisneros"  (1985).  Editing  the  exhaustive  study  Pasó  por  Aquí: 
Criticai  Essays  on  the  New  Mexican  Literary  Tradition,  1542-1988  (1989)  repre- 
sents  her  major  criticai  contribution,  one  that  will  serve  as  a  necessary  reference  text 
for  decades.  Gonzales-Berry  has  also  made  a  notable  contribution  to  the  study  of 
writings  by  Nuevo  Mexicanas  in  two  anthologies:  1)  Las  Mujeres  Hablan:  An 
Anthology  of  Nuevo  Mexicana  Writers  (1988),  where  she  served  as  coeditor  with 
Tey  Diana  Rebolledo  and  Teresa  Márquez,  and  2)  Nuestras  Mujeres:  Hispanas  of 
New  México — Their  Images  and  TheirLives,  1582-1992  (1992),  where  she  served 
as  associate  editor  under  Tey  Diana  Rebolledo.  She  has  also  recently  published  a 
brief  memoir  of  her  secondary  education  at  a  boarding  school,  the  El  Rito  Normal 
School,  for  Spanish  American  youths  in  New  México,  "A  Normal  Education:  The 
Spanish- American  School  at  El  Rito,"  La  Herencia  del  Norte  3  (1994):20-21. 

Originally  from  Roy,  New  México,  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry  teaches  courses  in 
Chicano/a  and  Latin  American  Literature  at  the  University  of  New  México.  She  is 
currently  serving  as  Chair  of  the  recently  formed  Spanish  Department. 


A.    BIOGRAPHY  AND  WRITING 

1.  Where  were  you  born?  What  is  your  native  language? 

1  was  born  in  Roy,  New  México  in  1942.  My  parents  taught  us  (four  sisters  and 
myself)  both  Spanish  andEnglish  in  childhood.  However,  Spanish  was  the  language 
most  frequently  spoken  in  the  family  and  in  our  conmiunity. 

2.  When  did  you  start  to  wríte  short  stories  and  novéis? 

During  the  early  70s,  I  was  inspired  by  emerging  Chicano  writers  and  experimented 
a  bit  with  Creative  writing.  The  only  thing  I  ever  published  from  those  days  was  a 
short  poem  in  Revista  Chicano- Riqueña.  I  am  happy  to  say  that  nothing  else  has 
survived.  I  didn't  write  again  until  the  80s  when  I  wrote  Paletitas  de  guayaba 
(Guava  popsicles;  1991). 

3.  Why  do  you  write?  Do  you  seek  to  give  a  narrative  volee  in  Spanish  to 
Chicanas?  Who  is  your  primary  audience? 

I  can't  really  say  "I  write."  It  is  more  accurate  to  say,  "1  have  written."  And  1  have 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring.  1994)  137 


written  very  little:  1)  Paletitas  de  guayaba,  2)  some  short  vignettes  which  appeared 
in  Las  Mujeres  Hablan  (Women  speak;  1989).  When  I  wrote  those  items,  I  wrote 
them  because  I  believed  I  had  something  to  say  that  might  be  of  interest  to  others. 
That's  the  packaged  answer.  Closer  to  the  truth,  or  a  tnith,  may  be  that  I  needed  to 
exorcise  a  rage  that  was  consuming  me  and  I  couldn't  afford  psychoanalysis.  That 
applies  to  Paletitas  de  guayaba.  The  "Rosebud"  excerpts  were  motivated  by 
something  else.  Initially,  that  was  more  an  exercise  than  anything  else.  I  am  not 
certain  why  I  wrote  Paletitas  de  guayaba  in  Spanish.  One  answer  could  be  that 
having  been  trained  in  Latin  American  Literature  Spanish  is  the  language  in  which 
I  have  read  more  literature.  In  another  place — an  MLA  conference,  I  believe — I 
stated  that  writing  in  Spanish  allowed  me  to  créate  a  persona  which  distanced  me 
personally  from  the  act  of  writing.  I  also  said  that  I  somehow  feltmore  secure  writing 
in  Spanish  than  in  English.  Perhaps  I  felt  that  readers  in  Spanish  would  be  less 
judgmental  than  English  language  readers.  But  there  is  something  else;  the  fact  that 
I  grew  up  listening  to  stories  in  Spanish.  I  remembered  the  voices  of  my  grandmoth- 
ers,  great  aunts  and  great  úneles,  aunts  and  úneles,  my  father  and  my  mother,  and 
I  wanted  to  imitate  them.  I  think  my  writing  has  a  certain  oral  quality  to  it  that  I 
attribute  to  having  been  brought  up  on  oral  lore,  La  Llorona,  brujas  and  bultos, 
apariciones  del  diablo,  la  muerte,  los  días  de  antes  [Hollering  Woman,  witches  and 
bodies,  appearances  of  the  Devil,  Death,  in  day  s  past] ,  all  that  great  stuf  f .  Also,  there 
is  something  about  freedom.  1  feel  that  Spanish  gives  me  more  latitude  to  experi- 
ment.  1  fmd  that  English  constrains  me  more.  I  feel  very  self-conscious  expressing 
myself  creatively  in  Engüsh.  As  I  said  elsewhere,  perhaps  I  feel  that  way  because 
as  a  child,  I  always  felt  loved  in  Spanish.  In  English,  I  felt  judged — and  of  course, 
I  also  felt  that  I  never  measured  up  to  standards. 

I  intended  my  primary  audience  to  be  anyone  who  reads  Spanish.  However,  I  believe 
I  had  special  things  to  say  to  both  Chicanas(os)  and  Mexicans. 

4.  Why  did  you  chose  to  write  in  Spanish?  Why  do  you  think  most  Chicana 
narrators  write  in  EngUsh? 

I  think  one  writes  in  the  language(es)  one  handles  best.  Most  Chicanas  writing 
narrative  today  probably  write  best  in  English.  There  are  exceptions,  of  course,  such 
as  Margarita  Cota-Cárdenas  and  Lucha  Corpi.  Lucha  writes  beautif  uUy  in  Spanish, 
yet  her  novéis  are  written  in  English.  I  don't  know  why,  but  perhaps  the  market  has 
something  to  do  with  her  cholee.  The  problem  with  writing  in  Spanish  is  that  there 
is  not  a  very  broad  reading  audience  for  those  works.  Paletitas  de  guayaba,  for 
example,  has  gone  virtually  unnoticed.  But  then,  maybe  it's  not  a  linguistic  issue. 
I  assume  that  my  writing  makes  some — maybe  a  lot — of  people  uncomfortable,  so 
they  pretend  they  didn't  notice  it. 

5.  What  role  does  bílingualism  have  in  your  Ufe  and  your  writing  project?  Your 
prose  writing  has  been  published  in  both  English  and  Spanish.  Is  there  a 


138  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


different  objective  that  you  want  to  achieve  or  créate  when  you  write  ín  one  or 
the  other  languages? 

Bilingualism  is  a  way  of  life  for  me.  I  teach  daily  in  Spanish,  My  academic  writing 
is  in  Spanish  and  English.  I  code-switch  with  facility  when  with  Chicana  and 
Chicano  friends  and  family.  It  is  important  to  me  in  my  writing  project  because  it 
allows  me  to  capture  in  writing  what  I  do,  and  what  I  see  others  around  me  doing — 
speaking  more  than  one  language. 

When  I  chose  English  for  the  Rosebud  series,  I  was  very  consciously  trying  to 
capture  Sandra  Cisneros's  style  of  writing.  She  writes  in  English.  I,  of  course,  failed, 
but  I  think  I  began  to  see  that  I  am  capable  of  giving  life  to  volees  that  speak  English. 

6.  One  of  the  defíning  texts  of  contemporary  Chicano  literature  is  El  espejo/The 
Mirror^  5th  printing,  from  1972.  Are  you  familiar  with  its  existence?  Did  it  have 
any  impact  on  your  cali  to  write? 

I  indeed  know  El  espejo.  I  think  almost  everything  I  read  written  by  a  Chicana  or 
Chicano  in  the  sixties  and  early  seventies  had  an  impact  on  me.  It  made  me  want  to 
write — ^want  to  join  that  large  family  that  was  finally  appearing  on  the  written 
page — ^and  to  tell  the  world  about  us,  la  raza.  I  had  to  wait  a  long,  long  time  before 
I  was  actually  ready  to  write  for  public  consumption. 

7.  What  does  the  word  feminist  mean  to  you?  Do  you  consider  yourself  a 
feminist?  A  feminist  writer?  Has  the  Chicana  writer  moved  beyond  depending 
on  a  space  or  refuge  in  Anglo- American  feminism  in  order  to  now  be  able  to 
express  herself  and  maintain  her  very  own  feminist  discourse  in  Chicano 
literature? 

Yes,  I  am  a  feminist,  and  yes,  I  consider  myself  a  feminist  writer.  Feminism  is,  for 
me,  a  state  of  consciousness  which  makes  one  aware  of  how  structures  of  domina- 
tion  affect  the  Uves  not  only  of  women  but  of  all  colonized  peoples. 
But  that  is  not  enough;  it  is  also  a  state  of  consciousness  that  makes  one  openly 
oppose  and  combat  practices,  discourses,  codes,  language,  etc.  that  treat/mark 
women  and  people  of  color  as  inferior,  or  less  than.  While  I  certainly  owe  a  great 
deal  to  Anglo  feminism,  I  cannot  cease  to  be  Chicana.  That  I  am  Chicana  means  that 
my  feminism  will  of  necessity  be  affected  by  that  fact.  What  is  most  important  to 
me  is  to  feel  free  to  write  whatever  it  is  1  want  and  need  to  write.  All  of  that  will  come 
from  my  experience  as  a  Chicana — a  woman  reared  v/ithin  a  very  specific  family 
and  marginalized  cultural  milieu.  I  would  hope  that  my  feminism  coincides  with 
that  of  other  Chicanas. 

8.  The  book  Chicano  Authors:  Inquiry  by  Interview  (1980)  by  Juan  Bruce- 
Novoa  established  Estela  Portillo-Trambley  as  the  standard  bearer  of  Chicana 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  139 


narrative.  She  has  one  matrix  feminist  text.  Rain  of  Scorpions  (1975),  and  a 
novel,  Trini  (1986),  which  features  a  female  protagonist  How  does  your  writing 
differ  from  hers  as  far  as  themes  and  characters? 

It's  been  a  long  time  since  I  read  Rain  of  Scorpions.  I  remember  liking  some  of  her 
narrative  pieces,  but  I  don'  t  remember  to  what  extent  I  related  to  them.  As  far  as  Trini 
is  concemed,  I  guess  my  own  writing  is  very  different.  I  would  say  Portillo  is  more 
committed  to  telling  a  story.  I,  on  the  other  hand,  am  more  interested  in  playing  and 
experimenting  with  language,  and  in  being  irreverent. 

9.  To  which  literary  tradition  do  you  adhere?  Chicano  narrative?  Chicana 
narrative?  Mexican  narrative?  Contemporary  American  narrative? 

I  certaiwly  place  myself  within  the  tradition  of  Chicana  narrative,  and  also  Chicano 
narrative.  1  feel  a  special  kinship  with  Margarita  Cota-Cárdenas,  with  Ana  Castillo. 
1  don't  see  my  work  fitting  within  the  canon  of  Mexican  literature.  American 
literature,  yes.  Ours — manitos'  [New  Mexican] — is  very  much  an  American 
experience.  When  I  write  from  that  position,  what  else  could  I  write  if  not  American 
literature. 

10.  What  place  do  you  seek  in  New  Mexican  narrative?  In  Southwestern 
Chicano  narrative? 

Again,  I  am  a  manita.  I  speak  from  that  position,  therefore  I  seek  a  place  in  New 
Mexican  narrative,  in  a  very  different  way,  though,  from  someone  like  Anaya,  or 
Ulibarrí — at  least  in  Paletitas  de  guayaba.  In  the  Rosebudexcerpts,  I  suppose  1  am 
very  much  in  their  tradition — nostalgically  recalling  the  past.  Inscribing  memory, 
1  beheve,  is  one  way  to  preserve  culture;  it  is  also  a  way  to  créate  conmiunity. 
Southwestern  Chicano  narrative?  Of  course,  my  woric  is  part  of  that  too. 

11.  According  to  Francisco  Lomelí,  the  rise  of  Chicano  narrative  in  the  1970s 
coincided  with  an  intense  interest  in  experimentation.  At  the  levei  of  narrative 
technique,  Paletitas  de  guayaba  falis  into  post-modernist  fíction.  Did  you 
consciously  particípate  in  such  an  interest?  Do  you  believe  postmodernism  is 
the  path  for  the  near  future? 

I  indeed  see  my  work  as  fitting  on  some  leveis  within  the  rubric  of  postmodernism. 
On  the  other  hand,  construction  of  subjectivity  and  identity  is  so  central  to  Paletitas 
de  guayaba  that  I  am  not  sure  postmodernism  can  accommodate  my  woric.  1  think 
ultimately  one's  work  fits  among  the  other  texts  that  one  has  read  or  otherwise 
absorbed.  I  Uve  in  a  postmodem  age,  I  read  postmodem  texts.  What  else  can  1  say? 

12.  Of  ali  the  narrative  texts  from  Chicano  literature,  both  male  and  female. 


140  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


Paletitas  de  guayaba  is  the  only  direct  dialogue  with  México,  its  youth  and 
intellectuals.  What  led  you  to  engage  in  such  a  matrix  discourse? 

When  I  was  working  on  my  Ph.D.,  I  originally  had  planned  to  write  my  dissertation 
on  Mexican  writers  from  La  Onda.  Our  curriculum  lead  us  directly  to  Latin 
American  "Boom"  and  post-boom  writers.  I  loved  their  work  (this  is  before  I  was 
reading  women  writers  very  much).  I  suppose  I  needed  to  address  some  of  the  issues 
these  male  writers  left  under  erasure. 

But  more  important,  early  in  my  academic  career,  I  travelled  to  México  with 
students  and  on  University  business.  The  shock — El  choque  famoso  [the  infamous 
shock] — was  truly  overwhehning.  Tuve  que  escribir  sobre  eso  y  de  una  manera  que 
lo  entendiera  la  gente  mexicana,  y  también  la  Raza  de  acá  [I  had  to  write  about  that 
and  in  a  way  in  which  the  Mexican  people  could  understand  it  and  also  Chicanos  on 
this  side  of  the  border]. 

13.  Are  you  familiar  with  the  novel  Noche  de  califas  (1982)  by  Armando 
Ramírez.  A  Chicana  character  named  Eva  appears  in  the  novel.  She  freely 
expresses  her  sexuality  and  eventually  drives  the  protagonista  Macho  Prieto, 
into  madness.  Is  Marina,  the  protagonist  in  Paletitas  de  guayaba^  in  opposition 
to  the  Chicana  character,  Eva,  in  Noche  de  califas! 

I  have  not  read  Noche  de  califas.  However,  what  you  say  about  the  protagonist  is 
an  interesting  twist.  Usually  it's  the  women  who  end  up  mad.  Mari  did  not  intend 
to  drive  Sergio  mad;  she  just  wanted  to  give  him  pleasure.  She,  herself,  could  easily 
have  ended  up  mad,  but  she  saved  herself  through  writing. 

14.  Will  you  maintain  a  dialogue  with  Mexican  society  and  writers  through 
your  writing?  Do  you  consider  such  a  dialogue  a  necessity?  Since  Chicano 
literature  is  primarily  a  dialogue  with  the  dominant  Anglo- American  culture, 
would  you  redirect  it  towards  México  and  the  rest  of  Latin  America? 

Probably  not.  I  probably  said  what  I  had  to  say  for  that  reader.  I  would  probably  have 
to  spend  a  significant  amount  of  time  in  México  if  I  were  to  continue  en  la  misma 
onda  [the  same  theme] .  I  don'  t  forsee  that  for  the  near  future.  I  would  like  to  see  more 
Chicanos  and  Chicanas  engage  in  that  dialogue.  ¿Quién  sabe  [Who  knows].^  We 
may  be  forced  to  do  so  in  the  very  near  future  with  the  Free  "Raid"  Agreement.  I  do 
think,  however,  that  Gloria  Anzaldúa  (and  others,  of  course,  but  she  with  a  sense  of 
urgency)  has  opened  an  important  space  for  a  crucial  dialogue  that  must  take  place 
in  and  around  the  frontera  [border]  by  those  of  use  who  reside  on  both  sides. 

15.  Does  the  dialogue  primarily  in  volve  females  and  males,  that  is.  Chicanas, 
Chicanos,  Mexicanos  and  Anglos? 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  141 


There  is  room  and  need  for  dialogue  that  takes  us  beyond  ourselves.  That  takes  us 
aCTOss  gender,  cultural  and  national  boundaries,  race  and  class  differences.  Other- 
wise,  how  will  we  ever  come  to  know  and  to  respect  each  other? 

16.  Do  male  characters  affect  Marina's  femínist  consciousness?  In  what  way? 

I  think  male  character's  affect  Marina'  s  consciousness  too  much.  But  she  is  young; 
she  is  still  somewhat  male  dependem  and  she  needs  males  to  define  herself.  Yet 
when  she  gets  older,  when  she  recalls/reconstructs  the  story  of  her  youth,  she  can 
put  it  ali  in  perspective  and  say  any  danm  thing  she  wants  without  worrying  about 
offending  males.  She  is  finally  free  of  their  hold. 

17.  Does  the  high  ímpact  of  male  characters  on  the  protagonista  who  is  the 
dominant  consciousness,  undermine  a  feminist  ideológica!  project?  If  so,  why? 

The  way  you  ask  this  question  tells  me  you  believe  it  does.  Perhaps  that  is  so.  But 
perhaps  it  does  not  so  much  undermine  an  ideológica!  project  as  reveal  the  path 
toward  a  feminist  project  for  certain  women  of  a  certain  background  and  of  a  certain 
generation. 

18.  As  you  are  aware  at  the  end  of  the  1980s  Chicana  writers  engaged  in 
exploring  sexuality  in  their  writing.  You  yourself  contributed  an  excerpt  from 
PaletUas  de  guayaba,  "Conversaciones  con  Serçio"  [Conversations  with  Sergio], 
to  the  Journal  Third  Womatty  volume  iv.  Your  novel  openly  examines  female 
sexuality  through  the  protagonist  Marina.  Other  Chicana  narrative  works  do 
the  same:  the  novéis  The  Mixquihuala  Letters  (1986)  and  Sapagonia  (1990)  by 
Ana  Castillo  plus  the  short  story  ^'Eyes  of  Zapata"  (1991)  by  Sandra  Ctsneros. 
How  does  this  discourse  on  sexuality  contribute  to  Chicana  liberation?  Is  it  in 
opposition  to  male  sexuality  in  the  novéis  by  Alejandro  Morales? 

I  see  my  own  discourse  on  sexuality  as  necessary  for  breaking  through  so  many 
layers  of  cultural  (and  I  use  this  word  very  broadly  here)  repression.  I  think  this 
tendency  in  the  work  of  Chicana  writers  (certainly,  my  own)  stems  from  the  urgent 
need  to  decolonize  our  minds.  But  how  can  we  decolonize  our  minds,  if  our  bodies 
remain  sites  of  colonization  and  domination?  I  cannot  speak  for  Alejandro.  Perhaps, 
he  is  striving  for  the  same  thing.  Unfortonately,  male  discourse  on  sexuality  so  often 
is  constructed  over  the  passive  bodies  of  females.  If  Chicana  discourse  on  sexuality 
is  in  opposition  to  male  discourse,  it  is  to  show  that  we  are  more  than  passive  females 
whose  raison-de-être  is  to  assume  the  missionary's  wife's  position  for  males.  And 
to  be  fair  to  Alejandro,  I  think  that  in  his  more  recent  writing  he  is  trying  to  work 
through  the  ubiquitous  panopticon  that  represses  human  sexuality  in  general. 

19.  In  the  1980s  Chicano  narrators  write  about  the  19th  century,  the  border 


142  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


and  family  generations.  On  the  other  hand,  Margarita  Cota-Cárdenas  pub- 
líshes  Puppet  {19S4),  Lucha  Corpi  writes  De/lía  's  Song  (1988)  and  you  introduce 
Paletitas  de  guayaba  (1991).  These  three  novéis  examine  the  mllitant  period  of 
the  Chicano  Movement.  Their  engagé  ^iscourse  recalls  The  Revolt  of  the 
Cockroach  People  (1972)  by  Osear  Zeta  Acosta.  Why  do  you  think  Chicana 
narrators  show  a  marked  interest  in  such  a  period  while  male  narra tors  remain 
silent? 

You  may  have  a  point  there.  Perhaps  it  is  our  way  of  appropriating  the  movement 
retrospectively,  since  on  many  leveis  we  were  denied  the  claim  that  we  too  had  a 
hand  in  its  construction.  Everyone  was  busy  pretending  that  el  único  lugar  para  las 
manos  de  las  chicanas  era  en  la  masa  [the  only  place  for  Chicana  hands  was  in  the 
tortilla  dough]. 

20.  In  Chicana  narrative  production  from  the  1970s  to  1S^2,  which  texts  do  you 
consider  have  made  a  fundamental  contribution  to  its  development  and  must 
be  addressed  in  some  form  by  future  works? 

Obviously  Sandra  has  had  great  impact.  I  think  Helena  María  Viramontes's  woik 
is  criticai.  Ana  Castillo,  is  tops  in  Mixquiahala  Letíers.  Someone  who  has  received 
little  attention  is  Margarita  Cota-Cárdenas.  I  think  her  work  is  fascinating  in  a 
postmodem  sort  of  way,  and  certainly  Denise  Chávez,  Roberta  Fernández,  Lucha 
Corpi,  Mary  Helen  Ponce.  Todas,  sabes,  todas  las  hermanas  chicanas. 

21.  One  can  safely  say  that  Cota-Cárdenas  and  yourself  are  the  only  two 
Chicana  novelists  who  write  in  Spanish.  Do  both  of  you  form  part  of  one 
specifíc  writer's  circle?  Why  did  you  choose  to  write  in  Spanish?  Will  you 
continue  to  write  in  that  language  or  make  a  transition  to  English  like 
Alejandro  Morales?  Do  you  think  any  Chicana  writers  in  their  twenties  will 
follow  Cota-Cárdenas  and  yourself  in  writing  in  Spanish?  Do  you  plan  to 
transíate  Paletitas  de  guayaba  into  English? 

I  think  Margarita  and  I  coincide  in  that  our  academic  backgrounds  are  very  similar. 
Also,  we  are  of  the  same  generation.  This  probably  accounts  for  the  similarities  in 
our  work.  I  will  write  some  in  Spanish,  probably  shorter  narrative.  Any  writing  I  do 
in  the  near  future  will  be  in  English,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  to  prove  to  myself 
that  I  can  do  it.  I  indeed  hope  that  young  writers  will  follow  in  our  footsteps.  Si  no, 
vamos  a  perder  algo  muy  precioso  [If  not,  we  are  going  to  lose  something  very  dear] . 
I  don'  t  know  about  translation.  I  have  been  approached  more  than  once,  but  I  am  not 
ready.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  style — orality,  play,  etc. — will  transíate  well. 

22.  In  considering  your  work  we  can  see  that  you  have  a  very  diverse  set  of 
writings.  Could  you  speak  about  your  social  objective  in  writing  grammar  and 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  143 


narrative  books  as  well  as  literary  criticism? 

I  am  first  and  foremost  an  academician.  I  write  literary  criticism,  and  I  dabble  in 
Creative  writing.  I  hope  to  change  that  order  in  the  near  future.  By  lhe  way,  I  have 
never  written  a  grammar  book,  but  I  have  written  articles  on  language  pedagogy. 

23.  In  June  1993,  the  UNAM  sponsored  a  conference  in  México  City  organized 
by  Prof.  Clair  Joysmith  featuring  Mexicana  and  Chicana  writers.  Elena 
Poniatowska,  Sandra  Cisneros,  Helena  Viramontes,  Ana  Castillo,  and  several 
other  important  writers  participated.  In  what  ways  will  this  conference 
contribute  to  the  dialogue  between  the  Southwest  and  México,  specifícally 
between  Chicanas  and  Mexicanas? 

I  am  glad  to  hear  this  is  happening.  We  have  so  much  to  leam  from  each  other.  But 
we  must  be  very  careful.  In  meeting  the  needs  of  expanded  markets,  we  may  pay  a 
price — elde  nuestras  almas,  sime  entiendes  [thepriceofoursoul,  if  youknow  what 
Imean]. 


B.   THE   TEXT    ITSELF 

1.  What  meaning  does  the  title  Paletitas  de  guayaba  have  for  you? 

It  was  more  than  anything  an  image  for  centering  my  narrative  which  began  with 
my  childhood  in  México.  When  I  think  of  México,  I  can  actually  feel  the  taste  of 
Street  popsicles  in  my  mouth.  Perhaps  it  was  just  the  treacherous  unconscious  at 
work. 

2.  Which  Chicana/o  and  Mexican  writers  influenced  your  writing  oí  Paletitas 
de  guayabal  Which  and  whose  techniques  helped  you  develop  your  own? 

Cota-Cárdenas,  her  irreverence  and  boldness;  Denise  Chávez,  her  love  for  familia 
[the  family];  Ana  Castillo,  her  delicious  irony;  Morales,  our  Chicano  maverick; 
Elizondo,  por  lo  mal  habla  'o  [for  his  bawdiness] ;  Hinojosa;  his  wonderful  humor — 
de  este  lado  [from  this  side  of  the  border].  Del  otro  [from  the  other  side] — ^José 
Agustín,  y  el  granpapi  [the  Great  Daddy],  Octavio  Paz.  Entre  mujeres  [from  among 
the  women],  Rosario  Castellanos,  Marta  Traba,  y  la  mera,  mera  [the  incomparable] 
Sor  Juana. 

3.  Do  Sergio  and  the  Anglo  professor  who  seduces  the  protagonist  symbolize 
oppression  at  different  leveis,  for  example,  student-teacher  relationship,  Anglo- 
Chicana  subordination,  and  Mexicano-Chicana  relationship?  That  is,  do  they 
symbolize  female  oppression  in  both  socíeties  at  various  leveis:  economic, 


144  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gomales -Berry 


psychological,  cultural,  gender,  and  sexual? 

What  can  I  say.  I  doubt  very  much  that  I  was  in  control  of  all  those  leveis.  1  truly 
believe  that  language  betrays  us  at  every  tum,  and  while  I  may  have  been  wanting 
to  say  one  thing,  1  probably  said  a  whole  lot  of  things  I  wasn't  particularly  bent  on 
saying. 

4.  What  particular  historical  elements  of  Mexican  society  do  you  examine  in 
the  novel?  The  Tlatelolco  massacre,  guerrilla  war,  and  what  else? 

Colonial  texts,  altitudes  of  Mexicanos  toward  Chicanos,  class  stratification,  cultural 
myths  like  La  Malinche,  México' s  convenient  amnesia. 

5.  In  the  novel,  why  did  you  choose  to  have  Mari  flnd  her  identity  in  México, 
especially  in  a  space  named  Casa  Aztlán?  Why  did  you  not  place  her  in  some 
barrio  in  New  México  or  in  another  space  of  Southwest? 

As  I  said  earlier,  1  had  been  fravelling  to  México  frequently  just  before  writing 
Paletitas  de  guayaba.  I  felt  enamored,  frustrated,  angry,  befuddled,  inspired, 
rejected  of/by/at  México.  I  wanted  to  write  about  those  emotions  and  I  also  wanted 
to  document  one  of  the  most  beautiful  periods  of  my  Ufe — my  childhood  in  México. 
The  casa  Aztlán  thing  was  something  that  I  discovered  in  México.  I  learned  that 
there  had  been  such  a  house  where  Chicanos  studying  at  the  UNAM  lived,  but  I 
never  knew  anyone  who  had  been  directly  involved.  After  I  wrote  Paletitas  de 
guayaba,  I  had  a  student  at  New  México  who  had  actually  lived  there.  In  Paletitas 
de  guayaba,  it,  of  course,  fiínctions  as  a  secure  harbor  in  a  sea  of  alienation. 

6.  Some  readers  argüe  that  the  relationship  between  Sergio  and  Marina  marks 
a  sexist  structure  in  Paletitas  de  guayaba.  Beyond  the  mutual  love  between  both 
of  them,  the  female  protagonist  ís  locked  into  a  student-teacher  relationship 
with  Sergio,  where  the  latter  apparently  is  the  teacher.  How  does  the  feminist 
world  view  subvert  such  an  apparent  sexist  structure?  How  is  such  a  view 
constructed  in  the  novel? 

Of  course  it  is  a  sexist  structure.  Our  discourse,  contestatory  as  it  may  strive  to  be, 
is  trapped  in  the  prison  house  of  sexist  language  and  structures.  I  think  this 
relationship  mirrors  the  experience  of  women  who  did  advanced  study  in  American 
universities  before  the  heyday  of  feminism.  How  we  struggled  to  maintain  some 
sense  of  self  and  dignity,  but  had  no  mirrors  to  look  into  except  male  eyes  and  texts. 
Ypa  'catarla  de  fregar  [And  to  make  things  worse]  they  did  their  damnedest  to  make 
US  despise  the  work  of  women.  Fortunately  we  carried  the  memory  of  our  mothers, 
abuelitas,  tías,  [grandmothers,  aunts]  etc.  or  we  would  never  have  survived.  I 
wanted  to  represent  thatexperience  so  thatother  women,  especially  young  Chicanas, 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  145 


would  questíon  it,  and  vow  not  to  repeat  it.  I  still  see  this  going  on  in  university 
settings — yoimg  women  who  won't  come  near  Chicana  professore,  who  prefer  to 
be  mentored  by  males  because  they  continue  to  see  us  as  inferior  to  our  male 
coUeagues.  Y  no  se  les  haga  que  sob  Sergio  es  el  maestro  aquí  [And  one  should  not 
think  that  Sergio  is  the  only  teacher] .  It  is  very  possible  that  he  too  may  have  learaed 
a  few  things  from  Mari.  There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  he  is  her  mentor. 

7.  What  is  your  concept  of  LaMalinche?  What  functíon  does  she  playinthe 
confíguration  of  the  protagonist  Marina?  Does  the  iatter  have  a  Malinche 
function  ín  relationship  with  the  Anglo  professor  and  with  Sergio?  With  the 
new  Chicano  society  present  in  the  novel? 

La  Malinche  is  the  element  of  subversión  that  you  alinde  to  above.  She  is  as  much, 
if  not  more  of  a  teacher  to  Mari  than  Sergio  or  el  gavacho  [the  white  dude]. 
Personally  she  is  a  figure  that  has  always  fascinated  me  and  I  wanted  to  know  her 
better.  When  she  spoke  to  me,  I  was  left  breathless.  I  found  her  to  be  more  complex 
than  I  had  ever  imagined  her  to  be.  I  felt  about  her  the  way  I  felt  about  my  mother, 
whom  1  cared  for  her  as  she  battied  cáncer.  As  she  passed  from  being  my  mother  to 
my  child,  dependent  on  me  for  her  every  need,  1  leamed  to  see  her  as  more  than  my 
mother,  as  a  deeply  complex,  wise,  and  admirable,  woman  trapped  in  sexist 
constructs.  Likewise,  I  came  to  see  La  Maünche  as  an  complex  and  extraordinary 
woman — also  trapped  in  a  cultural  gender  code. 

8.  Does  the  high  impact  of  male  characters  on  the  protagonista  who  is  the 
dominant  consciousness,  undermine  a  feminist  ideological  project?  That  is, 
why  are  the  Anglo  professor  and  Sergio  Marinaos  teachers?  What  is  the 
difference  between  both  of  them? 

They  are,  and  they  aren't  different.  Sergio  is  much  closer  culturally  to  Mari.  He  is 
far  more  sensitive  to  women' s  issues  than  Steve,  who  is  really  a  self-serving 
sanamabichi.  He  also  understands  the  plight  of  Chícanos  and  understands  oppres- 
sion  in  global  terms.  In  the  end,  however,  he  must  give  himself  to  greater  causes. 
And  indeed  there  are  more  important  things  in  the  world  than  Mari's  individual 
desire.  But  then  'The  Woman  Question"  has  always  been  secondary  to  the  real 
issues  on  the  agendas  of  enlightened males  ¿quena? 

9.  At  the  closing  of  the  novel  Sergio  seems  to  be  a  superfícial  or  unidimensional 
ñgure.  To  what  extent  is  this  image  necessary  to  construct  the  feminist  subject? 
Does  his  confíguration  or  role  matter? 

I  considered  developing  him  more.  In  the  end,  however,  I  decided  I  could 
accomplish  what  I  thought  was  important  without  developing  him.  His  role  is  thus 
a  pretext,  but  through  his  presence  I  was  able  alinde  to  other  issues. 


146  Interview  with  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry 


10.  What  is  the  symbolic  function  of  the  tía-abuela  and  the  mother?  Of  the 
character  Dolores  Huerta? 

When  we  (my  sisters  and  I)  were  young,  if  we  ever  left  home  for  more  than  a  few 
days,  we  had  to  go  to  our  abuelitas  for  la  bendición  [a  blessing  ritual] .  As  a  Chicana, 
I  cannot  do  anything,  embark  upon  any  trip,  adventure  or  project  without  calling 
upon  my  foremothers  for  la  bendición .  They  appear  in  Paletitas  de  guayaba  to  guide 
me,  to  give  me  their  bendición. 

While  I  was  writing  Paletitas  de  guayaba,  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting  Dolores 
Huerta.  I  just  wanted  to  pay  homage  to  another  one  of  my  heroinas  chicanas. 

11.  A  writer  draws  much  from  her  experience  when  writing  fíction.  To  what 
extent  is  this  true  ín  your  case?  How  much  of  Paletitas  de  guayaba  ís  based  on 
your  Ufe  experience? 

The  childhood  experiences  in  México  are  autobiographical.  Most  of  the  stuff  having 
to  do  W\\h  familia  [family]  is  also  autobiogr^hical.  Once  Mari  gets  pastpuberty, 
she's  on  her  own;  she  constnicts  herself  word  by  word. 

12.  The  short-story  '^Rosebud**  and  the  novel  Paletitas  de  guayaba  feature  two 
key  stages  in  a  woman's  development,  adolescence  and  young  womanhood.  In 
your  writing  agenda  what  does  the  fírst  have  to  do  with  the  second?  Why  are 
they  ín  different  languages? 

Tve  spoken  a  little  about  this  above.  Rosebud  is  still  in  the  writing  and  some  of  the 
issues  present  in  Paletitas  de  guayaba  will  ^pear  in  it,  though  in  a  much  more 
subdued  fashion.  The  dawning  of  sexuality  will  be  an  important  theme  in  Rosebud. 
Paletitas  de  guayaba  is  perhaps  the  aftermath,  the  story  of  the  thwarting  of 
sexuality,  and  one  woman's  effort  to  regain  it 

13.  In  the  1980s  Chicana  lesbians  made  a  noticeable  contribution  to  Chicana 
and  Chicano  literature,  for  example,  Cherríe  Moraga  and  Gloría  Anzaldúa. 
They  co-edíted  This  Bridge  CalledMy  Back  (1981)  whích  won  the  líterary  príze 
Before  Columbus  Foundation  American  Book  Award  ín  1986  and  Anzaldúa 
published  the  acclaimed  book  Borderlands/La  Frontera  (1987).  Does  the 
presence  of  Isaura  ín  Paletitas  de  guayaba  represent  your  dialogue  with  their 
contribution?  Do  you  feel  that  heterosexual  Chicanas  must  address  the  lesbían 
question?  How  pertinent  ís  such  a  questíon  to  Chicana  Uterature? 

A  very  definite  yes  to  all  of  your  questions.  My  inclusión  of  Isaura  was  my  attempt 
to  at  least  acknowledge  and  make  room  for  the  presence  of  Chicana  lesbians  within 
our  cultural  borders.  It  is  of  course  only  a  minimal  gesture,  and  I  believe  that 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,  1994)  147 


heterosexual  Chicanas  must  indeed  enter  into  a  serious  dialogue  with  Chicana 
lesbian  writers.  I  think  their  impact  on  our  literary  corpus — both  Chicana  and 
Chicano — has  been  tremendous. 

14.  Will  there  be  a  sequei  to  Paletitas  de  guayaba? 

Tve  though  about  that.  Perhaps  I  will  write  about  Mari  at  the  stage  of  her  life  when 
she  constructs  the  Paletitas  de  guayaba  text.  I  might  set  it  in  an  American  University 
that  fires  ali  its  Chicana  professors  for  being  rabble  rousers .  Hmmnun,  definitely  has 
possibilities. 

15.  What  is  the  role  of  the  writer? 

To  inscribe  the  voices  of  those  who  might  otherwise  remain  silenL 


Manuel  de  Jesús  Hemández-G. 
Michel  Nymann 

Arizona  State  University 


It 


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Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  149 


Corning  Home 
Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


Introduction. 

In  1981,  Cherríe  Moraga  and  Gloria  Anzaldúa  redefined  the  feminist  move- 
ment  in  the  United  States.  The  publication  of  This  Bridge  CalledMy  Back:  Writings 
by  Radical  Women  of  Color  challenged  the  feminist  movement  to  rethink  the 
privileged  tenn  "woman."  Bridge,  by  providing  a  combination  of  testimonios, 
poetry,  short  fiction,  and  essays,  suggests  the  multiplicity  of  experiences  and  the 
various  diásporas  filling  the  streets  of  the  United  States.  But  until  Bridge' s 
publication,  these  experiences  were  largely  hidden  from  literary  and  academic 
sight.  Bridge  put  pressure  on  both  the  tenns  "woman"  and  "feminist"  and  initiated 
a  rethinking  of  Anglo- American  feminism  which  had  until  then  largely  ignored  its 
Anglo  middle-class  biases. 

Shortly  after  the  publication  of  This  Bridge  Called  My  Back,  Moraga  began 
working  on  her  ground-breaking  autobiography,  Loving  in  the  War  Years:  Lo  que 
nunca  pasó  por  sus  labios  (1983).  In  this  cross-genre  collection.  Moraga  explores 
the  experience  of  writing  with  "yomfamilia  on  one  shoulder  and  the  movimiento  on 
the  other."  She  discusses  the  seemingly  contradictory  experience  ofbeing  a  Chicana 
and  a  lesbian,  and  she  critiques/í3mí7ia,  the  Chicano  Movement,  white  racism,  and 
sexism,  The  style  of  the  text,  in  combining  poetry,  prose,  and  fiction,  reinforces  the 
content's  challenges  to  existing  hierarchies,  instimtionalized  racism,  homophobia, 
and  patriarchy .  The  concluding  essay ,  "A  Long  Line  of  Vendidas"  is  one  of  the  most 
anthologized  Chicana  feminist  essays.  Moraga  next  tumed  to  writing  theater.  Her 
three  plays,  Giving  Up  the  Ghost,  Shadow  ofa  Man,  and  Héroes  and  Saints,  argue 
for  the  intimate  link  between  politicai  and  economic  realities  and  daily  family 
culture.  Giving  up  the  Ghost  (1986),  written  largely  in  poetic  monologues,  describes 
the  experiences  ofa  young  woman  coming  to  tenns  with  her  sexuality,  her  past,  and 
the  puzzles  of  heterosexuality.  Shadow  of  a  Man  (1990)  examines  family  dynamics 
built  around  keeping  a  threatening  secreL  Set  in  the  deadly  pesticide  fields  of 
California'  s  agribusiness,  Héroes  and  Saints  (1992)  depicts  a  Chicano  conmiunity '  s 
attempt  to  confront  genocide,  racist  apathy ,  and  family  loss .  While  each  of  Moraga'  s 
plays  tackles  serious  subjects,  she  infuses  ali  of  her  work  with  humor  and  poetry. 


150  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


I 


with  Chicanidad. 

Most  recently.  Moraga  has  published  The  Last  Generation  (1993),  a  collection 
of  essays  and  poems.  In  this  volume  she  addresses  the  post-Quincentennary 
movimiento,  the  state  of  Chicano/a  activism,  the  siege  upon  gays  and  lesbians  of 
color,  and  her  own  identity  as  a  woman  tuming  forty .  Her  poetry  and  essays  are  less 
autobiographical  in  this  collection,  but  they  continue  to  draw  on  family  memories 
and  experiences. 

As  we  sat  in  a  small  café  down  the  street  from  Arroyo  Books  in  Highland  Park 
on  April  24, 1994,  Moraga  reflected  on  her  artistic  production  to  date,  commenting 
on  issues  of  representation,  reception,  and  literary  production.  Before  we  started  the 
interview.  Moraga  and  her  sister  JoAnn  noted  the  surrounding  barrio.  They  had 
lived  there  in  the  first  years  of  their  Uves  before  moving  to  South  Pasadena  and  then 
to  San  Gabriel.  So  the  reading  that  Moraga  was  to  give  later  that  Sunday  aftemoon 
to  a  packed  audience  at  Arroyo  Books  was  something  of  a  homecoming. 

M.  and  J.:  There  is  no  doubt  that  both  your  fiction  and  essays,  for  example,  This 
Bridge  Callea  My  Back:  Writings  by  Radical  Women  of  Color,  has  had  a 
profound  impact  on  mainstream  literary  criticism  in  academia.  How  do  you 
feel  about  the  teaching  of  this  text  by  mainstream  feminists?  Do  you  think  there 
is  any  mlsappropriatíon?  Do  you  think  that  they  dismiss  it  as  a  sociological 
piece  of  work?  How  can  we  reach  a  better  understanding  of  this  text? 

C:  I  think  initially  what  h^pened  with  the  book  was  what  Gloria  [Anzaldúa]  and 
I  had  envisioned  or  hoped  which  is  that  it  be  used  by  Chicano  Studies,  Women 
Studies,  community  centers  and  all  of  that.  It  has  been  used  on  all  those  leveis.  In 
that  sense  I  feel  like  it  has  fulfilled  its  mandate.  What  feminist  theorists  have  done 
with  it  is  mixed.  One  of  the  ways  in  which  it  has  been  misappropiated  is  that 
sometimes  they  look  no  further  than  Bridge.  They  do  all  this  Anglo  material  and  then 
only  do  Bridge,  which  somehow  covers  everything  they  think  they  need  to  know 
about  other  women  of  color.  Bridge  is  thirteen  years  oíd.  It  came  out  in  1981 .  A  lot 
has  changed  since  then;  there  is  a  certain  way  in  which  some  of  the  material  is 
generic,  women  of  color.  I  think  that  white  feminists  as  a  whole  feel  more 
comfortable  working  with  the  generic  notion  of  women  of  color  and  try  to  put 
everyone  under  that  rubric  as  opposed  to  the  specificity  of  each  of  the  ethnic/racial 
groups.  The  book  has  a  lot  of  things  missing.  It  is  not  at  all  intemational  in 
perspective.  If  I  were  to  do  a  Bridge  now,  it  would  have  to  be  much  more 
intemational.  To  be  talking  about  women  of  color  feminism  in  the  United  States  and 
notconnect  with  all  the  diásporas  is  ridiculous.  On  the  one  hand,  some  white  women 
use  it  as  a  way  to  cover  themselves.  On  the  other,  in  terms  of  the  criticism  that  has 
come  out  about  Bridge  I  do  not  know.  Norma  Alarcón  has  written  extensively  about 
how  Bridge  has  been  misappropriated,  1  think  she  articulates  that  fine.  That  is  her 
Job.  FrankIy  1  stopped  reading  the  criticism.  Itisnotjust  about  firií/^e,  butith^pens 
with  my  own  individual  work.  For  the  most  part,  I  don't  really  mind  very  much  as 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  151 


long  as  it  keeps  generating  ideas  and  discussion.  On  an  individual  levei,  I  would 
wonder  what  really  are  the  motives  of  each  of  the  individuais  involved  in  teaching 
this  book.  Do  they  have  a  broad  perspective  or  serious  anti-racist  politics  or  are  they 
just  appropriating  tiie  book?  I  have  no  control  over  that  so  I  try  not  to  worry  about 
that  because  there  is  nothing  I  can  do.  Once  the  work  is  out,  it  has  its  own  life.  It  is 
not  yours  anymore  which  is  fine  with  me.  I  just  try  not  to  pay  too  much  attention  and 
I  let  the  critics  battie  it  out  with  each  otíier. 

M.:  That's  the  next  move  if  you  were  going  to  do  another  anthology,  a  broader 
one,  more  inclusive  of  varíous  diásporas? 

C:  No,  I  would  not  do  that.  I  have  been  teaching  a  class  called  "Indígena  Scribe" 
for  about  tiiree  years  now  which  is  a  group  ofNative- American,  Chicana,  and  Latina 
writers.  The  material  that  is  coming  out  of  that  group  of  people  is  very  specific  using 
indigenismo  as  a  kind  of  base  root  which  is  fascinating  to  me.  I  would  be  interested 
in  doing  a  collection  possibly  of  their  creatíve  work  which  is  very  original  in  trying 
to  show  why  that  indigenous  root  connection  is  significant  in  the  creative  imagina- 
tíon.  But,  that  is  very,  very  specific.  I  think  my  tendency  is  to  aim  to  get  more  and 
more  specific  as  opposed  to  producing  another  generic  work.  Of  course,  it  was  not 
generic  at  the  time.  But  I  don' t  think  that  I  would  put  myself  in  the  position  of  doing 
another  collection  of  people  outside  my  own  ethnic/racial  background  because  the 
time  is  not  right  for  that.  The  reason  we  did  Bridge  was  because  the  time  was  right. 
It  was  more  out  of  the  virtue  of  the  invisibility  that  women  of  color  had  in  the 
women's  movement  That  is  no  longer  the  case.  Every  single  writer  in  Bridge  has 
her  own  book  now.  Those  are  ali  established  writers.  Now  there  is  a  body  of 
indigenous  literature.  There  is  a  body  of  Latina  literature.  There  is  a  body  of  Asian- 
American  literature.  It  is  a  different  time  and  place.  It  would  have  to  be  re- 
conceptualized  in  a  totally  different  manner.  There  is  not  a  need  for  another  Bridge, 
but  there  is  a  need  for  other  kinds  of  more  specific  writings.  Also,  editing  is  a  lot  of 
work.  One  has  to  be  really  driven  by  a  particular  visión  and  that'  s  what  Bridge  was. 
We  were  driven  by  a  particular  visión  in  1 979  out  of  virtual  isolatíon  and  invisibility. 

J.:  One  element  I  liked  about  Esta  puente,  mi  espalda  (the  Spanish  versión  of 
Bridge)  is  your  inclusión  of  the  interview  that  Ana  Castillo  did  with  the 
Watsonville  workers  whereas  most  literary  anthologies  would  exclude  that 
kind  of  voice.  Was  it  a  way  to  bridge  the  gap  between  community  and 
academia? 

C:  Well  it  was  an  attempt  to  do  that.  Most  of  those  women  were  already  going  to 
college.  They  were  conmiunity-based  women,  but  they  were  not  obreras.  There  is 
a  lot  more  that  could  have  been  done  around  that.  In  doing  anotiíer  collection,  I 
certainly  would  not  limit  it  to  writers  only .  If  I  were  not  going  to  do  a  creative  writing 
anthology  and  focus  on  feminism  of  a  certain  type,  I  think  now  I  would  work  much 


152  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


harder  to  record  oral  histories  and  interviews  firom  people  who  were  reaEy  woridng- 
class,  campesina  women.  I  think  that  was  a  nice  gesture  in  the  right  direction.  I  agree 
with  you.  That  is  what  is  needed  as  opposed  to  this  academic  separation. 

J.:  What  was  the  experience  of  making  Cuentos:  Stories  by  Latinas  like?  How 
did  you  meet  the  other  two  editors.  Alma  Gómez  and  Mariana  Romo- 
Carmona?  What  was  it  like  forming  the  networks? 

C:  Alma  was  part  of  the  collective,  Kitchen  Table  Press.  When  we  started  Kitchen 
Table  Press,  the  first  book  we  did  was  Bridge  because  it  had  been  published  by  a 
white  feminist  press  and  it  went  bankrupt.  We  had  to  get  lawyers  to  try  to  get  the 
book  back.  Actually,  a  lot  of  the  motivation  for  Kitchen  Table  Press  carne  about 
because  of  those  kinds  of  situations  where  women  of  color  did  not  have  control  o  ver 
their  own  production.  In  essence  we  never  intended  to  do  Bridge.  We  also  never 
intended  to  do  Home-girls  because  Home-girls  was  going  to  be  done  by  the  same 
press.  Then  suddenly  the  press  dropped  both  projects  leaving  it  up  to  us  to  save  them. 
The  first  two  projects  were  to  rescue  those  books. 

The  third  project  Cuentos:  Stories  by  Latinas  was  kind  of  conceived  among  the 
collective  which  mostly  consisted  of  black  women.  There  had  been  coUections  of 
black  women  writers.  At  that  time  in  1983,  there  were  very  few  by  Latinas  that  were 
not  simply  Latin  American  women  in  translation.  We  were  trying  to  connect  U.S. 
Latinas  with  Latin  American  women  and  cover  all  the  classes  too  that  a  lot  of 
bourgeoisie  Latin  American  women  had  ignored.  Also  we  wished  to  include 
material  that  was  unequivocally  feminist  which  other  coUections  had  not  done  up 
to  that  point.  Alma  was  Nuyorican  and  we  wanted  someone  who  was  Latin 
American  and  that'  s  how  we  met  Mariana  so  that  we  could  cover  those  three  áreas. 
A  fourth  person  who  essentially  wrote  the  introduction  with  me  was  Myrtha 
Chabrán  who  was  puertorriqueña  bom  on  the  island,  a  good  generation  older  than 
me.  She  was  very  criticai  in  the  development  of  that  book  as  well. 

J.:  Your  movement  around  cities  from  Los  Angeles  to  New  York  to  San 
Francisco  has  converted  you  into  an  urban  traveler.  How  have  these  experi- 
ences  affected  your  writing?  Have  conununity  activities  influenced  you  in  any 
way? 

C:  Well,  I  was  told  by  a  psychic  many  years  ago  and  I  can' t  forget  it  because  I  don't 
want  it  to  be  true.  She  said,  "Forget  your  house  on  the  ocean.  You  are  never  going 
to  be  a  writer  who  can  esc^)e  and  have  a  nice  contemplative  Ufe."  That'  s  probably 
true.  I  think  about  that,  which  is  why  I  always  end  up  in  the  cities  all  the  time.  I  still 
think  about  leaving  the  cities.  Now  that  I  have  a  child  even  more  so.  But  I  am  always 
drawn  to  cities  because  I  think  one  of  the  reasons  is  just  survival.  Being  both  Chicana 
and  lesbian,  major  cities  are  the  only  safe  place  where  one  can  be  both  of  these 
identities  visible  at  once  and  find  a  cultural  community  to  cultívate  all  of  those 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  153 


identities.  It  has  always  been  that  more  than  anything  else;  the  bottom  Une  is  that  one 
has  to  f eel  that  one  can  be  ali  those  parts  of  y  ourself  where  ver  y  ou  are  li  ving .  1  think 
that  is  why  I  have  always  gravitated  to  cities.  Even  when  I  left  San  Gabriel  to  move 
to  Hollywood,  it  was  easier  to  be  ali  those  things  in  Hollywood  or  Sil  ver  Lake  than 
San  Gabriel  which  was  the  suburbs. 

In  terms  of  politicai  or  community  activism,  I  always  feel  that  I  have  known  some 
hard  core  organizers  and  I  am  not  one  of  them.  I  have  not  been  on  the  front  line  of 
organizing.  I  have  always  been  community  based  though.  As  an  artist,  I  have  always 
felt  that  I  wrote  out  of  a  politicai  and  community  point  of  reference  and  I  have  also 
done  poütical  organizing.  But  there  has  always  been  this  trade-off  between  how 
much  time  I  had  to  write  and  how  much  time  I  had  to  be  an  organizer.  I  always  ended 
up  choosing  more  myself  as  an  artist  and  say,  "Well,  that's  the  work.  That's  my 
work,  but  at  the  same  time  trying  to  keep  links  and  connections  with  the  kinds  of 
activism  going  on  in  a  community  so  that  I  had  something  to  write  about."  1  had  a 
base  from  which  to  write. 

I  think  teaching  forme  has  always  been  an  elementof  thatconmiunity .  I  see  teaching 
as  a  way  to  raise  consciousness,  to  advócate,  to  agitate,  to  cultívate  a  new  generation 
of  people  who  will  be  challenging  agendas.  Particularly  now  that  I  am  not  teaching 
in  academia,  but  that  I  am  teaching  in  a  community  base  in  the  Mission  District  in 
San  Francisco,  that  I  am  teaching  queer  youth,  many  of  whom  are  very  high  risk, 
who  live  on  the  streets.  Those  kinds  of  things  always  keep  me  sharper,  less 
complacent,  more  challenged,  to  deal  with  young  people.  My  concepts  are  con- 
stantly  challenged.  But  I  am  not  doing  what  my  sister  does  for  example.  There  are 
a  lot  of  differences.  As  a  principal  of  a  bilingual  school  in  La  Puente,  she  talks  about 
having  to  be  social  worker,  cop,  keeping  youth  out  of  the  house  when  parents  are 
drug  addicts,  this  one  is  threatening  to  kill  that  one.  It  is  very  first  hand,  direct  contact 
with  Raza  who  are  in  need.  For  the  most  part  as  a  writer,  it  keeps  you  a  little  bit 
removed,  not  to  say  that  I  don'  t  experience  this,  but  I  deal  with  the  kids  I  teach.  I  say 
that  I  am  not  front-line  out  of  respect  for  the  people  who  have  direct  contact  with 
these  situations.  People  need  to  know  that  there  is  a  difference  between  being  an 
organizer  and  being  an  artist.  Both  of  them  have  absolutely  appropriate  roles  in  the 
world.  I  am  thinking  of  my  friend  Barbara  Garcia  in  Watsonville  who  began  La 
clínica  para  la  salud  de  la  gente.  When  the  earthquake  hit  in  Watsonville  back  in 
1989,  she  was  there  in  a  tent  city  24  hours  a  day  basically  organizing  the  damned 
city  better  than  the  Fire  Department  by  making  sure  everybody  was  fed,  clothed, 
with  a  roof  over  their  head.  That  is  front-line  woik.  She  is  a  sister.  She  needs  my 
work  the  same  way  I  need  hers.  It  is  mutual,  but  it  is  not  the  same  thing.  I  reitérate 
thatbecause  people  in  academia  have  this  notion  thatbecause  you  live  in  the  barrio, 
you  are  a  writer,  that  is  somehow  front-line  work.  Yet,  it  is  not  I  really  think  that 
is  an  academic  perspective.  It  is  very  convenient  for  me  to  think  that  too,  but  there 
is  a  difference. 

J.:  Do  you  see  yourself  as  part  of  a  generation  of  U.S.  Latina  wríters? 


I 


154  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


C:  Yes,  I  see  myself  as  part  of  the  first  generatíon  of  U.S.  Latina  writers.  In  terms 
of  volume  and  production  of  Latina/Chicana  writing  in  the  United  States,  we  are  a 
very  young  group  of  writers.  I  mean  I  did  not  have  a  generatíon  to  read.  By  virtue 
of  that,  most  of  us  that  are  producing  now  are  really  writing  the  literature  that  a 
generatíon  younger  than  us  is  capable  of  reading.  There  is  something  for  them  to 
read.  B  ut  I  stíll  feel  we  are  very  young .  We  are  not  e ven  writing  cióse  to  what  I  hope 
we  can  be  writing  in  twenty  years. 

When  you  don' t  have  that  history,  when  you  don't  have  that  literary  tradition,  it  is 
very  liberating  and  exciting  because  it  has  a  kind  of  poHtícal  significance  and  the 
writing  that  follows  will  never  quite  be  that  same  kind  of  ground-breaking 
phenomenon.  But  by  the  same  token,  I  think  we  are  cultivating  our  voice:  we  have 
not  had  a  lot  of  role  models  and  practice.  I  feel  like  all  of  us  are  still  leaming  how 
to  do  it.  People  seem  to  be  getting  better  at  it. 

J.:  Who  do  you  include  ín  this  generation? 

C:  In  terms  of  Chicana  writers,  I  think  of  Sandra  Cisneros,  Ana  Castillo,  Gloria 
Anzaldúa.  I  consider  these  women  to  be  the  primary  ones.  Also,  Loma  Dee 
Cervantes  is  the  top  for  me  as  a  poet.  She  is  fabulous.  I  would  also  include  Denise 
Chávez,  Helena  María  Viramontes  and  others  still.  But  I  üiink  that  Sandra,  Ana, 
Gloria  and  Loma  Dee  are  probably  Üie  most  significant  in  terms  of  the  impact  they 
are  having  at  the  national  level,  a  national  readership.  In  some  cases,  the  ground  that 
they  are  breaking  in  terms  of  theme  and  subject. 

J.:  It  is  an  interesting  border  literary  position  to  be  in  because  the  works  of  these 
authors  can  be  used  in  both  American  and  Latín  American  literary  traditions. 

C:  Well  I  think  that  will  happen  more  with  the  translations.  Also,  Elena  Poniatowska 
has  done  a  lot  to  expose  Chicana  writers  in  México  because  there  is  such  prejudice 
against  us,  basically  ehtísm  and  class,  that  they  did  not  take  us  seriously.  In  that 
respect,  she  has  been  very  significant  in  making  our  works  known.  Also,  I  think 
there  is  cross-fertilizatíon  that  is  happening  because  of  lesbian  connectíons  that 
happen  among  Latinas  in  Latin  American  and  in  the  United  States. 

J.:  In  Loving  in  the  War  YearSy  one  of  the  ways  you  represent  the  female  body 
is  through  the  historical  figure  of  the  Malinche,  who  strives  for  self-empower- 
ment  as  a  resistance  against  patriarchal  domination.  How  do  you  see  women 
redefíning  their  sexual  roles  and  "putting  flesh  back  on  the  object"  as  critic 
Norma  Alarcón  says? 

C:  This  is  what  I  like  about  Gloria  and  Ana's  work.  I  do  feel  like  Üiey  are  üying  to 
examine  what  is  WOMAN.  What  is  Mexican  woman  which  is  not  what  all  the 


Mester,  Voi  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  155 


writers  are  trying  to  do.  Not  ali  Chicana  writers  are  about  that,  just  because  they  are 
writíng  about  women.  Everybody  has  different  leveis  of  skill,  talent  and  concems, 
When  I  think  about  Borderlands  and  The  Mixquiahuala Letters,  those  are  two  books 
that  really  did  try  to  unravel  what  is  la  mujer  mexicana/chicana.  It  is  incredibly 
painful  to  look  at  that.  It  is  not  pretty  how  we  have  been  distorted  as  a  people,  as  a 
consciousness,  a  coUective  notion  of  what  la  mujer  mexicana/chicana  is.  It  is  not 
nice.  It  is  not  a  pretty  picture.  I  think  a  lot  of  people  deal  with  it  in  different  ways. 
Some  people  créate  positive  images  while  others  dress  her  differently .  Those  are  ali 
ways  that  they  créate  her. 

But  the  work  that  I  gravitate  towards  is  a  work  that  tries  to  tear  it  apart.  Even  then 
if  ali  you  see  is  the  raw  guts  and  it  does  not  smell  or  look  good,  at  least  you  are  starting 
from  somewhere.  That  is  what  moves  me  as  a  writer,  what  I  need  to  read  and  I  will 
read  anybody  who  does  it  even  if  she  is  not  Latina. 

I  think  of  a  book  like,  Thereafter  Johnny,  by  Carolivia  Herrón,  a  black  woman.  It 
is  a  crazy  book  where  this  woman  writes  about  incest,  but  in  a  very  taboo  way .  What 
you  can  see  there  is  an  artist  trying  to  unravel  a  theme.  It  goes  back  into  slave  history 
trying  to  figure  out  what  slavery  did  to  black  men  and  women  and  how  it  destroyed 
their  relationship  with  each  other.  What  she  comes  up  with  is  devastating.  Again, 
it  is  not  a  pleasant  work  but  I  ate  that  book  up  because  I  feel  like  I  am  trying  to  do 
that  for  better  or  for  worse.  As  lousy  as  I  do  it  or  as  good  as  I  do  it,  that  is  what  I  want 
to  do.  If  there  is  anything  I  knew  being  raised  as  a  Mexican  daughter,  it  is  the  beauty 
in  it  and  the  horror  in  it.  I  want  to  give  to  that  and  recréate  her.  But  I  may  never 
recréate  her.  I  may  write  until  I  am  ninety  and  just  be  taking  it  apart. 
So  for  me  the  best  Chicana  literature  is  about  that.  Malinche  is  part  of  that.  The 
reason  we  have  been  so  drawn  to  her  figure  over  and  over  again  is  because  how  a 
woman  can  go  from  being  Malintzin  to  la  Chingada  says  everything.  Right?  Look 
at  what  Chingada  means.  She  is  our  paradigm.  How  you  change  from  being  an  Aztec 
princess  to  the  fucked  one  and  culpable  for  everything  that  ever  happened  to 
Mexican  society  tells  you  something  about  what  Mexican  culture  is  about  in  relation 
to  women.  Of  course,  everything  is  written  out  of  an  act  of  love.  If  I  didn't  give  a 
damn  about  my  culture  and  did  not  love  it  so  much,  I  would  have  escaped  it  and  done 
something  else. 

J.:  In  your  writíngs,  you  seem  to  be  dialoguing  with  a  variety  of  authors— 
Octavio  Paz  in  El  laberinto  de  la  soledad^  Carlos  Fuentes  in  La  muerte  de 
Artemio  Cruz  and  more. 

C:  I  am  dialoguing  with  many  people.  I  dialogue  with  Garcia  Lorca  because  I  write 
theater.  As  a  gay  man  or  a  homosexual,  his  passion,  his  desire,  his  revolutionary 
visión,  writing  in  a  time  as  an  act  of  resistance,  I  feel  a  lot  of  affinity  with  him  and 
he  also  wrote  extensively  on  women.  Yet,  he  is  not  a  woman,  so  there  are  places  in 
his  works  thaí  are  twisted  about  women  and  yet,  I  am  drawn  to  some  of  his 
revelations  about  women.  I  am  connected  with  the  Spanish  and  the  Indian.  You  end 


156  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


up  being  in  dialogue  with  everything. 

I  remember  the  first  time  I  read  the  Egyptian  writer  Nawal  El-Sadaawi  I  thought  I 
would  lose  my  mind  because  I  thought  she  was  a  Mexican.  In  terms  of  sensibility, 
I  felt  there  was  something  in  this  novel  thatmade  me  start  thinking  about  the  broader 
connection.  Intheend  weareallrelated.  Ijustthinkthatldolookalotatwhat  Arable 
women  write.  I  don't  know  if  that  is  just  an  accident  that  I  just  start  fmding  myself 
drawn  to  it,  even  southem  Italian  women  writers  or  others. 

M.:  Maybe  you  could  talk  more  about  that  aspect  Who  are  your  influences? 
Who  do  you  read?  For  example,  I  have  seen  articles  comparing  you  to  John 
Rechy. 

C:  Also  there  have  been  many  articles  that  have  compared  me  and  Richard 
Rodríguez  which  I  understand.  It  is  not  because  we  both  have  the  same  politicai 
perspective.  The  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  I  feel  like  what  Richard  writes  about  are 
the  same  things  that  preoccupy  me.  All  that  stuff--his  complexión,  his  desire, 
church,  education  and  more.  Yet,  his  conclusions  are  totally  confused,  but  his 
writing  is  beautiful,  though,  and  he  writes  about  the  right  subjects.  I  think  he  is  one 
of  the  few  Chicano  male  writers  who  is  writing  about  the  issues  we  need  to  hear. 
Unfortunately ,  his  conclusions  are  off.  In  a  sort  of  perverted  way,  I  have  always  felt 
a  kind  of  kinship  with  him. 

The  writers  who  have  had  an  impact  on  me  are  Rosario  Castellanos,  García-Lorca 
and  James  Baldwin  by  virtue  of  the  fact  that  he  is  colored  and  queer.  Also,  he  wrote 
about  it  when  I  could  not  read  anybody  else  who  was  colored  and  queer.  He  was  also 
someone  who  was  deeply  conmiitted  politically  and  also  deeply  committed  to  the 
description  of  desire.  He  refused  to  compromise  desire  for  politics.  That  was  very 
rare  when  everybody  else  was  telling  me  I  had  to  do  that. 
In  recent  years  I  read  works  by  Native  American  women.  I  love  the  works  of  Leslie 
Marmon  Silko,  especially  Ceremony,  she  is  a  visionary ,  not  being  afraid  to  en  visión . 
In  fact  her  visions  come  true.  She  is  very  important.  As  a  poet.  Jo  Harjo.  I  have 
always  read  black  women  since  the  beginning.  Recently  as  a  playwright,  I  have  read 
all  ofAugust  Wilson' s  woik.  Itreally  depends.  You  go  through  differentperiods  of 
your  Ufe. 

J.:  Would  you  like  to  discuss  the  impact  of  your  mother's  role  on  your  writing? 

C:  I  felt  like  Loving  in  the  War  Years  was  a  love  letter  to  my  mother  far  more  than 
anything  else.  There  is  a  Une  about  family — for  better  or  for  worse  it  is  a  place  you 
leam  to  love. 

I  think  that  the  specific  role  of  my  mother  is  important  in  terms  of  my  writing  in  that 
she  is  the  storyteller  in  the  family.  I  leamed  more  about  storytelhng  than  through 
reading.  Unlike  Gloria  Anzaldúa  who  was  one  of  those  kids  who  hid  under  the 
covers  hiding  trying  to  read  with  the  flashlights,  I  was  a  worker.  I  liked  to  work.  I 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  157 


did  things. 

Jo  Ann:  Someone  asked  me  what  was  she  like  when  she  (Cherríe)  was  little.  Was 
she  very  outgoing?  I  said  no.  She  was  very  prívate.  It  was  only  when  we  pretended 
together  that  her  imagination  carne  abouL  Other  than  that,  my  mother  and  I  told  the 
stories  to  her.  We  were  the  storytellers.  She  was  the  storer  of  the  stories  who 
eventually  ended  up  being  the  spokesperson  of  the  stories. 

C:  I  think  part  of  it  too  was  that  my  sister  JoAnn  and  I  are  so  dose  in  age,  about 
eighteen  months  apart,  a  companion  constantly  in  childhood.  She  said  to  me  in 
moments  of  great  significance,  'This  is  very  important  Remember  this.  Five  years 
from  now  let's  talk  about  this."  A  record  was  being  kepL  We  were  conscious  as 
children  of  significant  facts  that  were  happening.  Memories  were  very  importam. 
My  mother  and  my  aunts  were  always  passing  stories  down  so  that  it  became 
important  to  talk  about  what  was  happening  around  us. 

Certainly  there  were  ali  kinds  of  secrets  and  silences  in  the  family,  butpassion  was 
acceptable  in  a  certain  degree  except  when  it  became  my  own  at  sixteen.  Desire  for 
life.  Between  JoAnn  and  my  mom  everything  was  coming  to  me  as  the  youngest. 
In  Shadow  ofa  Man,  I  identify  a  lot  with  the  youngest  child  Lupe  because  she  is  also 
theemotionalspongeof  the  family.  JoAnn  was  much  more  re¿?eWe  thani  was.  Itook 
everything  in,  particularly  my  mother' s  pain.  When  one  does  that,  it  cultivates  a 
listener  and  a  sense  that  other  people  have  Uves,  a  compassion  for  others.  As  a  writer, 
you  have  to  be  a  listener  and  have  a  compassion  about  other  people'  s  lives  .Asa  child 
my  mother  cultivated  that  for  me  for  better  or  for  worse  because  there  are  many 
negative  aspects  about  taking  in  this  emotional  strength  too.  It  is  also  too  much  to 
burden  a  kid.  Yet,  if  there  is  anything  I  drew  on  it  would  be  my  understanding;  at 
seven  years  old  I  had  ali  the  complexity  of  an  adult.  It  was  a  complex  life  because 
my  mother  was  two  generations  older  than  me.  At  the  age  of  seven  I  thought  I 
understood  her  whole  life.  Life  was  not  simple.  Everything  had  multi-leveled  layers 
to  íL  The  world  was  something  I  had  to  unravel  and  come  to  terms  with.  It  was  not 
safe,  necessarily  but  you  had  to  be  able  to  deal  with  it.  So  it  was  like  drama,  right? 
And  I  think  more  than  anything  that's  how  she  affected  my  sense  that  I  use  now  as 
a  writer.  Essentially  anybody's  Ufe  is  worthy  of  literature. 

M.:  When  you  talk  about  a  writer*s  block,  you  said  it  is  because  you  have  a 
secret.  Could  you  talk  a  little  more  about  the  coimections  you  see  between 
secrets  and  writing? 

C:  Well  I  think  the  danger  about  writing  is  that  it  anticipates  you.  If  you  are  open 
and  fluid  enough  with  your  work,  the  writing  can  sometimes  leak  Information  into 
you,  like  dreams.  If  you  are  plugging  into  the  same  unconscious  place,  you  may  not 
be  able  to  li  ve  up  to  what  you  see.  Yet,  that  is  the  kind  of  writing  that  is  the  best  kind 
of  writing,  the  place  that  touches  our  unconscious.  As  you  are  keeping  the  secret. 


158  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


you  are  going  to  work  very  hard  to  repress  your  unconscious.  The  writíng  will  not 
be  as  good  because  the  unconscious  is  much  smarter  than  the  ego,  one  level  of 
writing.  If  a  writer  can  tap  into  her  unconscious,  the  writing  is  going  to  be  much 
richer  with  other  voices  and  memories.  If  a  writer  cannot  tap  into  her  unconscious, 
the  writing  is  going  to  be  flatter  work. 

M.:  Is  there  a  connection  between  indigenismo  and  the  indigenous  imagination 
and  secrets? 

C:  I  don't  know  for  sure.  If  we  have  Indian  blood  in  us,  it  has  been  buried  in  the 
family .  I  couldnot  tell  you.  As  aMexican,  I  am  drawing  from  indigenous  influences. 
In  looking  more  closely  at  that  raíz  one  begins  to  draw  from  those  unconscious 
places,  the  indigenismo  is  the  one  where  I  end  up  going.  That  is  part  of  the  terrain 
of  my  unconscious  for  whatever  reason-if  it  is  racial  memory,  biological,  DNA,  I 
don't  know.  I  have  no  control  over  this  process.  It  is  happening  of  its  own  accord. 
I  do  it  with  reservation  too  by  virtue  of  the  fact  that  I  do  not  want  to  claim  what  is 
not  mine.  By  the  same  token,  what  is  there  is  there.  Just  let  it  come  to  you  as  opposed 
to  pushing  it. 

M.:  Could  you  talk  about  how  you  started  writing  teatro  and  what  brought  you 
toit? 

C:  I  started  writing  theater  by  accident  when  I  fínished  Loving  in  the  War  Years 
which  is  essentially  an  autobiography,  essays,  and  poems.  When  I  finished  it  in 
1983, 1  felt  like  I  had  finished  my  own  story,  not  to  say  I  would  not  write  from  my 
own  perspective  but  in  a  certain  way  I  thought  a  burden  had  been  üfted  from  me.  So 
I  continued  to  write  in  my  joumals  but  suddenly  it  was  not  autobiography.  It  was 
other  people  talking  to  me  and  that  is  how  Giving  Up  the  Ghost  came  about  which 
is  a  kind  of  transition  because  it  is  more  teatropoesía  with  monologues  and  poetic 
voices.  That  is  the  transition  from  poet  to  playwright.  Then  I  just  fell  in  love  with 
theater.  I  had  been  in  New  York  at  the  time  and  I  submitted  Giving  Up  the  Ghost  to 
apply  for  María  Irene  Fomes'  "Hispanic  Playwriting  Lab,"  in  New  York  City,  at 
ínter  Theater.  Once  I  started  working  with  her,  I  was  connected  with  others.  I  began 
to  write  dialogue  for  the  first  time  in  my  Ufe. 

M.:  Had  she  been  a  big  influence  on  you? 

I  would  say  just  in  that  period.  People  credit  her  with  having  more  influence  on  me 
than  she  does.  There  are  a  lot  of  Chicano  play  wrights  who  continued  to  work  with 
her.  She  has  a  style  of  playwriting  that  deals  more  with  character  than  plot 
development  which  is  the  same  thing  with  me.  She  does  really  approach  it  as  a  poet. 
On  that  level,  she  had  a  strong  influence  on  me  in  the  sense  that  had  I  worked  with 
a  traditional  playwright,  I  never  would  have  written  plays.  But  she  let  me  approach 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  159 


it  as  a  poet  and  encouraged  that. 

But  the  difference  lies  in  the  fact  that  Mana  Irene  is  not  as  focused  on  language  in 
her  work  as  I  am.  As  a  poet,  I  feel  that  is  the  main  thing  forme.  In  theater,  thatelement 
is  not  as  important~to  be  able  to  write  visual  images  in  language  and  yet,  that  is  what 
I  still  aim  to  do  in  theater.  For  example,  August  Wilson  does  that,  but  it  is  not  a 
priority  for  most  playwrights.  In  that  sense,  I  take  a  departure  from  her.  And  she 
really  supported  that  in  my  own  writing.  Also,  politically  we  had  different  perspec- 
tives. 

The  reason  I  continue  to  write  theater  is  because  I  feel  it  is  the  one  place  that  I  can 
expose  \he poesía  in  the  common  tongue.  Traditionally,  people  do  not  put  those  two 
things  together.  Yet,  the  way  we  grew  up,  basically  anyone  bilingual,  people  leamed 
to  speak  English  in  a  beautiful  combination — the  spoken  Spanish  with  the  written 
English.  To  me  this  is  very  poetic  particularly  when  I  grew  up  among  cuentistas.  The 
theater  is  then  one  way  that  allows  me  to  contribute  to  that. 
After  that  I  only  worked  with  her  for  a  year  and  then  she  directed  a  play  of  mine 
Shadow  ofa  Man  in  New  York  City  in  1990. 

M.:  I  thínk  it  is  interesting  that  you  talk  about  the  pleasures  of  writing  as  well 
as  the  frustrations.  Could  you  expand  on  that  and  the  problems  of  gettii^ 
produced  in  Los  Angeles?  What  does  it  mean  to  be  a  playwright  in  Los 
Angeles? 

C:  Well,  UCLA  was  very  interested  in  doing  Héroes  and  Saints.  It  is  ironic  to  me 
that  Los  Angeles,  which  has  the  biggest  Mexicano/Chicano  population  outside  of 
México  City,  is  the  one  place  where  it  seems  that  it  is  the  most  difficult  for  me  to 
get  my  plays  produced.  On  a  certain  levei  the  frustration  is  that  I  am  barred 
(censored)  from  my  own  audience,  the  reason  for  that  being  that  the  cahber  of  Latino 
actors  that  I  would  like  to  woric  with  are  here  in  Los  Angeles.  Although  there  are  also 
many  good  ones  in  San  Francisco,  most  of  them  end  up  moving  here  to  Los  Angeles 
to  work.  Those  are  actors  I  would  like  to  work  with.  Itisamutualfeeling  thatlknow 
many  actors  who  would  like  to  do  my  work.  The  places  that  they  can  afford  to  work, 
which  pay  them  well  enough,  are  places  like  "South  Coast  Repertory,"  "The  Mark 
Taper  Fórum,"  "San  Diego  Repertory,"  ali  of  which  are  mainstream  houses. 
Although  my  plays  receive  readings  and  serious  considerations,  they  have  yet  to  be 
produced  in  L.  A.  The  plays  are  of  the  size  and  of  the  caliber  that  to  do  them  on  a 
community  levei  is  fine  for  smaller  to  wns.  That  is  fine  for  me  because  I  ai  way  s  want 
the  work  to  get  out,  but  the  levei  of  acting  that  I  would  like  to  have  and  the  quahty 
of  production  that  I  would  like  to  have  means  that  I  have  to  work  at  those  larger 
theaters.For  the  most  part  when  they  decide  to  do  the  work,  they  know  two  names. 
Culture  Clash  and  Luis  Valdez.  If  they  know  other  names,  they  will  pickother  plays 
usually  if  they  find  them  not  threatening  in  any  way.  If  you  attempt  to  be  a 
playwright  who  writes  about  themes  that  are  more  confrontational,  a  mainstream 
theater  is  very  nervous  about  taking  a  risk  with  their  largely  Anglo-dominated 


160  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


audiences  because  they  feel  it  could  be  a  financial  failure.  So  people  like  Valdez  are 
shoe-ins  because  his  ñame  will  bring  an  initíal  audience  to  them  regardless  of  the 
quality  of  the  work.  That  has  not  changed.  There  are  other  fine  play  wrights  in  my 
situation  who  are  encountering  those  same  obstacles.  I  find  that  my  hands  are  üed. 
I  find  it  very  lucky  that  1  work  with  a  resident  theater  company,  BRAVA  for  women 
in  the  arts.  With  them  I  can  cultivate  the  work  and  receive  high  quality  openings  so 
I  could  see  the  work  to  fiuition.  But  after  that.  .  .  But  the  politics  of  it  are  very 
frustrating. 

M.:  I  think  it  would  be  frustratii^  as  you  are  wríting. 

C:  Well,  1  think  1  am  lucky  in  the  sense  that  I  have  a  place  to  produce  my  work.  That 
is  a  big  deal  since  most  play  wrights  do  not  e  ven  have  that  I  feel  very  fortúnate  that 
I  have  a  home  base  company  that  will  support  my  work.  Other  places  like  "B  erkeley 
Repertory"  have  commissioned  me.  So  things  are  beginning  to  loosen  up.  But  if  I 
did  not  have  a  company  where  the  work  would  be  produced,  then  I  think  it  is  hard 
to  envision  the  work.  The  material  conditions  affect  what  you  are  capable  of 
envisioning.  The  fact  that  I  feel  safe  to  envision  because  I  have  a  chance  of  acquiring 
a  good  production  through  BRAVA  has  helped  the  work  continue  to  develop. 
Otherwise  why  do  it  if  your  work  is  going  to  stay  on  the  page. 

M.:  What  kind  of  politicai  work  do  you  think  teatro  does  versus  say  poetry  or 
short  stories?  Do  you  think  it  has  different  politicai  possibillties? 

C:  Well,  there  are  but  it  is  problematic  because  technically  it  is  a  great  form  because 
you  do  not  have  to  be  literate  to  go  to  the  theater.  It  can  reach  bodies  of  people  that 
it  would  not  normally  reach,  but  unfortunately  the  way  most  theater  is  set  up  now 
the  audiences  tend  to  be  exclusive.  The  good  thing  now  about  the  teatro  BRAVA 
where  I  work  is  that  it  always  spends  an  equal  amount  of  time,  money  and  energy 
trying  to  cultivate  the  audiences.  If  it  is  a  Latino  play,  they  cultivate  Latino 
audiences.  An  Asian-American  play  cultivates  that  respective  audience.  On  one 
level,  theater  is  very  exclusive.  The  play  runs  for  five  weeks  and  nobody  sees  it.  On 
another  it  has  the  possibility  of  being  more  accessible  than  any  thing  on  the  printed 
page.  My  family  is  a  good  example.  My  parents'  generation  never  read  any  of  my 
work,  but  when  I  started  writing  plays  all  of  them  wanted  to  come  and  be  there 
because  it  is  something  that  is  available  to  them. 

J.:  What  inspired  you  to  write  your  first  play  Giving  up  the  Ghost  after  the 
poetry  and  essay  form  in  Loving  in  the  War  Years  ? 

C:  The  Corky  character  [the  main  protagonist]  came  to  me.  I  did  not  do  anything. 
1  was  really  excited  about  her  because  she  was  not  me.  She  was  someone  else  that 
1  admired.  As  1  said  at  UCLA,  much  of  it  is  related  to  my  own  biography  in  the  sense 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  á  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  161 


that  I  had  been  involved  with  a  woman  who  was  ostensibly  heterosexual.  That  was 
the  first  time  it  had  ever  h^pened  to  me  and  I  could  not  understand  heterosexual 
desire.  Yet,  somehow  by  touching  this  person  I  knew  it  was  true.  I  had  to  understand 
that  As  a  lesbian  writer,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  not  going  to  be  able  to  go  any  further  as 
a  Chicana  lesbian  writer.  I  was  not  going  to  be  able  to  reach  other  Chicanas  if  I  could 
not  understand  heterosexual  Chicanas.  If  I  could  not  write  for  heterosexual 
Chicanas,  I  was  going  to  be  a  very  limited  writer.  I  had  to  understand  ali  female 
desire,  not  just  lesbian  desire.  In  fact  I  started  to  understand  that  lesbian  desiie  is  so 
influenced  by  heterosexual  desire  that  I  also  needed  that  heterosexual  understanding 
in  order  to  understand  my  own  lesbianism.  In  writing  the  character  of  Amalia,  I 
became  conscious  of  the  fact  that  I  needed  to  write  this  so  I  could  understand  ali 
women.  After  that,  the  experience  did  help  me  because  the  transition  to  Shadow  of 
a  Man  became  easy.  I  could  write  about  the  mother,  the  aunt  and  everyone  else. 
Whereas  when  I  started  writing  in  the  first  ten  years,  my  lesbianism  was  so 
embattled,  having  to  write  and  speak  its  name  was  so  embattled  that  there  was  no 
room  for  anything  else.  When  I  finished  Loving  in  the  War  Years,  there  became 
room,  Then  the  voice  broadened.  It  is  interesting  that  you  can  be  accused  that  you 
are  betraying  lesbianism  because  you  write  about  heterosexual  concems  without 
realizing  that  I  should  be  able  to  write  about  a  white  heterosexual  man.  My  job  is 
to  write  it  ali  well  and  to  expand  what  I  am  capable  of  doing  so  that  when  I  write  the 
Chicana  lesbian  experience,  it  is  informed. 

J. :  //f  Giving  Up  the  Ghost  one  of  the  last  línes  is  **inakii^  família  from  scratch.** 
What  does  that  mean  to  you? 

C:  When  the  character  says  it,  it  means  that  you  cannot  make  peace  with  your 
biological  family  when  your  queemess  makes  it  impossible  for  you  to  fit.  As  a 
Chicana  lesbian,  the  character  Marisa  has  a  love  for  family  that  is  so  profound 
because  she  was  Corky  as  a  child.  Her  love  of  family,  her  loyalty  to  her  sister,  her 
mother,  her  race  and  everything  betray  her.  She  is  betrayed  by  her  mother,  her 
cousin,  her  first  lover,  the  man  who  rapes  her  and  more.  She  is  betrayed  by  ali  these 
so-called  family  members  who  betray  her  love.  As  an  adult  Marisa  says,  "OK.  I  am 
not  giving  up  family.  I  need  family.  But  if  I  have  to  make  family  from  scratch,  that 
is  what  I  will  do."  What  that  means  is  that  she  will  créate  her  own  queer  family. 
That  is  why  Amalia  plays  the  mother  role  too  because  Marisa  is  young  enough  that 
she  is  still  looking  for  her  mother  in  her  lovers  which  I  think  is  typical.  In  that  last 
monologue  she  says,  "If  I  have  to,  I  will."  But  if  you  notice  the  last  gesture  of  the 
play  where  she  is  making  love  to  herself,  she  says,  "If  I  put  my  fingers  to  my  own 
forgotten  places,"  it  means  where  you  begin  to  make  family  from  scratch  is  the  love 
of  yourself  and  then  you  begin  to  reconstruct. 

J.:  I  was  also  very  moved  by  the  reading  you  did  of  a  selection  in  The  Last 
Generation,  your  latest  book,  at  UCLA.  You  implied  that  the  Chicano  culture 


162  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


is  disappearíng.  Could  you  expand  on  thís  issue? 

C:  Well  I  am  talking  about  my  own  family  that  is  not  necessarily  representatíve  of 
all  Chícanos.  There  are  plenty  of  Chícanos  who  are  cultívatíng  themselves  fine. 
Wítnessíng  that  loss  ín  my  own  family  was  very  personal.  However,  I  know  that  I 
am  not  alone.  Many  Chícanos  are  experiencíng  that  phenomenon.  What  keeps  the 
culture  cultivated  ís  contact  wíth  new  generatíons  of  mexicanos  coming  ínto  the 
country.  But  íf  you  don't  have  that  what  keeps  it  cultivated  ís  a  politicai  movement 
that  affirms  the  culture.  That  is  the  reason  my  niece  who  is  quarter-breed  is  now 
taking  Chicano  studies  classes.  There  is  no  reason  for  her  to  do  that.  She  can  get 
along  perfectly  well  in  Ufe  without  ever  recognizing  the  quarter  Mexican  she  is.  It 
is  just  that  somewhere  along  the  course  of  history,  she  might  perceive  something 
valuable  in  that  culture.  Why  does  my  nephew  wish  suddenly  that  he  were  darker? 
It  is  very  confusing  since  society  works  hard  to  get  everyone  "whitified."  What  was 
once  denigrated  is  suddenly  given  valué  which  makes  you  attracted  to  it  The  way 
you  make  it  attractive  is  by  having  available  to  young  people  the  culture-literature 
and  the  arts. 

That  is  why  the  arts  are  so  important.  My  frustrations  about  most  Chicano  Studies 
Programs  are  that  they  only  cultívate  the  social  sciences.  Nobody  is  encouraging 
artists,  writers  and  dreamers.  Nobody  is  cultivating  dreamers.  What  exactly  is  the 
new  generation  supposed  to  be  drawn  to?  Are  they  supposed  to  be  drawn  to  being 
social  workers  and  sociologists?  Every  single  one  of  them?  What  people  are  drawn 
to  is  what  moves  them!  What  they  remember  is  a  song!  What  they  remember  is  a 
painting!  What  they  remember  is  some  crazy  poet  one  day! 
That  is  the  reason  the  sixties  and  the  seventies  were  such  an  active  time  too.  It  is  not 
just  because  there  was  a  politicai  movement  happening,  but  there  was  a  cultural 
movement  to  enhance  that  politicai  movement.  It  is  very  important.  I  feel  that  when 
the  activism  may  not  be  there  the  reason  they  keep  the  arts  alive  until  the  activism 
kicks  in  again. 

M.:  Is  that  what  you  mean  by  cultural  nationalism— the  arts  and  literature? 

C:  No,  I  am  talking  about  a  land-based  movement  in  organizing  our  communities. 

M.:  When  you  say  that  you  had  tocóme  out  of  the  closet  as  a  cultural  nationalist, 
is  that  because  so  much  Chicana  feminism  has  defined  itself  as  critiquing 
nationalism? 

C:  Yeah,  and  I  do  too.  I'm  a  bit  tongue  and  cheek.  I  like  to  mess  that  way  because 
people  take  it  all  so  seriously .  The  cultural  nationals  expect  that  myself  as  a  lesbian 
feminist  would  not  have  strong  feelings  about  Aztlán,  connections  about  a  land- 
based  movement,  indigenous  rights  or  sovereignty.  They  assume  that,  as  a  lesbian 
feminist,  I  am  excluded  from  those  kinds  of  concems.  Chicana  feminists  question 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  163 


how  I  could  be  attracted  to  that  race  politics. 

M.:  How  do  you  reconcile  your  different  views  in  the  essay  entitled  "Queer 
Aztlán"  of  The  Last  Generationl 

C . :  It  is  supposed  to  be  a  breeding  ground  for  ideas  and  to  agitate.  There  is  one  person 
who  likes  a  little  bit  of  this  or  a  little  bit  of  that.  Why  can't  we  have  it  ali?  Even 
though  on  a  pragmatic  levei,  this  may  be  very  difficult  to  realize.  Yet,  I  wanted  to 
put  between  the  pages  of  one  essay  a  whole  range  of  issues  of  which  I  believe  in 
which  most  people  may  find  contradictory .  For  example,  I  may  share  a  politics  with 
José  Montoya,  but  then  does  he  share  my  lesbian  feminism?  No  he  does  not.  Still 
that  is  something  that  he  should  know  that  I  share  with  him.  What  does  it  mean  that 
a  lesbian  feminist  shares  that  politics?  It  is  asking,  "Hey ,  come  along  with  this  part." 
The  same  experience  occurs  with  the  lesbian  feminists.  They  think  I  must  think  X, 
Y,  Z,  but  ±en  I  say  that  I  thought  Aztlán  had  some  really  good  ideas.  I  don't  want 
to  lose  both  aspects.  I  think  there  is  something  really  important  about  the  unabashed 
radicahsm  of  that  nationalist  period-uncompromising,  because  I  always  feel  that 
one  ends  up  compromising.  There  is  something  about  being  that  cutting  edge. 
Also  there  is  an  indigenous  intemationalistmovement  happening  at  this  moment  in 
which  Chicanos  can  have  a  place  in  that  if  they  are  willing  to  carry  that  responsi- 
bility. 

M.:  Is  an  international  movement  one  of  the  things  that  gives  you  the  most 
hope? 

C:  Yes,  it  is.  1  feel  that  it  is  also  an  altemative  way  of  living  from  the  most  simple 
levei  to  the  most  global.  That  gives  me  hope.  Changes  can  actually  happen  on  an 
inmiediate  basis  on  how  people  construct  their  own  communities  from  the  local  to 
the  global.  When  I  look  around  that  does  inspire  me. 

M.:  In  that  movement,  who  are  you  thinking  of? 

C:  Ali  of  the  material  from  The  Last  Generation  was  written  during  the 
Quincentennial.  There  were  many  international  indigenous  tribunais  that  were 
happening  at  the  time.  I  know  of  individuals-Native  women  in  Canada,  in  the 
United  States  and  Latin  America  who  are  building  coalitions  with  each  other.  They 
are  also  creating  self-sustaining  cottage  industries,  for  example,  in  Texas,  indig- 
enous women  are  working  for  water  and  land  rights  in  a  legal  context  from  the 
national  to  the  local  levei.  Much  of  the  work  is  geared  by  and  for  women.  To  me 
these  are  very  inspiring  examples  to  everyone. 

Of  course  there  is  always  that  big  rip-off  that  happens  to  Nati ve  culture  which  to  me 
is  only  a  reflection  of  the  kind  of  power  it  has,  the  fact  that  people  want  to  steal  it. 


164  Interview  with  Cherríe  Moraga 


J.:  Have  you  read  the  testimonio  by  Rigoberta  Menchú?  What  impact  did  it 
have  on  you? 

C:  Yeah,  thatbookchangedmy  lifejustby  virtueof  thefactthatyouhadatestimony 
like  that  on  a  very  concrete,  very  real-life  level  that  really  made  explicit  the 
complicity  the  United  States  had  in  the  particular  conditions  of  people  who  are 
ostensibly  related  to  you.  The  element  that  really  drew  me  was  that  I  always  taught 
it  at  U.C.  Berkeley.  Every  semester,  this  book  tumed  the  students  into  radicais 
ovemight.  I  had  a  student  whose  parents  were  Somocistas  but  then  he  was  tumed 
around  by  this  book.  You  cannot  ignore  iL  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  anyone 
suffering  to  that  extent  and  to  know  what  a  cushy  life  one  has.  There  is  no  way  to 
read  that  and  not  feel  that  you  are  somehow  complicit  in  that  woman'  s  suffering  or 
her  family's  suffering.  But  that  little  seed  of  realization  never  leaves  you  in  a  very 
important  way.  It  is  wonderful  to  teach  it. 

Mary  Pat  Brady 
Juanita  Heredia 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  165 


East  of  Downtown  and  Beyond 
Interview  with  Helena  Maria  Viramontes 


A  native  of  East  Los  Angeles,  Helena  Maria  Viramontes  has  participated  in 
many  joumals,  literary  contests,  andcommunity  activities.  She  is  bestknown  forher 
intemationally  acclaimed  The  Moths  and  Other  Stories  published  in  1985  by  Arte 
Público  Press.  This  coUection  of  short  stories  brings  to  light  the  importance  of  the 
urban  woman's  voice,  concems,  and  perspectives  within  Chicano/Latino  culture. 
Viramontes  calis  attention  to  the  themes  of  sexuality  in  "Growing"  and  "Birthday," 
changing  cultural/sexual  roles  in  "The  Broken  Web,"  the  relationships  among 
women  in  "The  Moths,"  and  the  immigrant  experience  in  "Cariboo  Café." 

In  Chicana  Creativity  and  Criticism:  Charting  New  Frontiers  in  American 
Literature  (1987),  Viramontes  and  Maria  Herrera-Sobek  coedited  a  coUection  of 
criticai  articles,  fiction,  poetry,  and  essays  on  Chicana  literature,  a  project  that  was 
inspired  by  a  conference  held  at  U.C.  Irvine.  The  book  proved  to  be  very  popular 
and  recently  sold  out.  The  University  of  New  México  Press  will  reissue  the  book  in 
an  expanded  edition.  In  this  coUection,  the  short  story  "Miss  Qairol"  by  Viramontes 
shows  a  new  direction  in  the  representation  of  the  urban  female  factory  worker  in 
Chicano/Latino  Uterature  according  to  Herrera-Sobek.  In  "Nopahtos"  (Breaking 
Boundaries:  Writings  by  Latinas  1989),  Viramontes  cul  ti  vates  the  testimonial 
genre  by  giving  us  an  autobiographical  account  of  the  importance  of  the  oral 
tradition  in  her  work. 

Viramontes  has  been  literary  editor  for  Xhismearte  and  a  coordinator  for  the 
Latino  Writers  Association.  In  1990  she  cofounded  the  nonprofit  group.  Latino 
Writers  and  Filmmakers,  Inc.  She  has  recenüy  signed  a  contract  for  two  novéis  and 
a  book  of  short  stories  with  New  American  Library  Series/Dutton  Publishers.  She 
is  presently  working  on  a  novel,  Under  the  Feet  of  Jesus,  to  be  pubUshed  in  1995 
with  the  support  of  the  National  Endowment  for  the  Arts.  Viramontes  has  also 
accepted  a  ladder-rank  position  as  Assistant  Professor  of  Creative  Writing  in  the 
Department  of  English  at  Comell  University. 

As  one  of  the  participants  at  the  conference  "Writing  the  Immigrant  Experi- 
ence" at  the  renovated  pubüc  übrary  in  downtown  Los  Angeles,  Viramontes 
reflected  on  the  significance  of  the  pubüc  library  in  her  üterary  formation.  Later  on 
that  aftemoon,  we  met  with  Viramontes  to  discuss  her  role  as  a  writer  and  a 


166  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


community  actívist. 

Viramontes  elaborated  on  the  importance  of  her  involvement  with  tlie  public 
library.  We  asked  lier  why  this  place  means  so  much  to  her. 

Helena:  Fm  a  big  advócate  of  public  libraries  because  I  grew  up  in  a  bookless  home. 
I  come  from  a  family  of  eleven.  It  wasn't  until  my  older  brothers  and  sisters  started 
going  to  school  that  there  were  books  in  the  house.  My  father  had  bought  us  a  set 
of  World  Book  Enciclopedias  that  we  were  forbidden  to  touch  because  they  hadn't 
been  paid.  Also  my  older  sister  had  a  Bible  she  guarded  like  her  big  jar  ofNoxzema. 
I  was  amazed  by  the  pictures  in  this  book  and  the  temptation  was  too  much  for  me 
to  bear.  For  the  longest  time  I  thought  that  the  encyclopedias  contained  all  the 
Information  I  needed  to  know  in  the  world,  and  that  the  Bible  had  all  the  truth.  What 
more  could  a  hungry  child  want?  That's  all  I  really  needed.  It  wasn't  until  very 
recen tly  that  I  realized  that  this  isn't  altogether  true.  But  that's  where  I  developed 
my  respect  for  the  printed  word.  In  any  event,  I  was  always  really  excited  about 
books. 

The  library  was  my  space.  I  would  take  two  buses  to  come  here  to  the  Central 
Library.  It  was  very  much  unlike  the  way  it  is  now.  You  would  walk  into  this  huge 
domelike  room  and  in  it  were  rows  and  rows  of  catalogue  card  drawers  and  all  those 
cards  represented  books  ready  to  be  accessed  by  the  tip  of  my  fingers.  You' re 
constantly  moving,  but  you  have  to  make  contacts  and  connections.  I  like  that 
thought  because  in  many  ways  that's  the  way  it  was  at  the  public  library.  I  met  all 
kinds  of  different  people  and  worlds  in  this  library. 

Juanita:  What  do  you  remember  about  the  library  as  a  child? 

H.:  First  of  all,  it  was  a  place  of  warmth,  great  warmth.  Someone  always  kept  the 
heat  just  right.  And  nobody  bothered  you.  And  then  to  see  the  big  huge  boxes  with 
catalogue  cards  in  them  and  jot  the  numbers  and  go  to  the  stacks  and  say  ¡Ay!  como 
tenían  tantos  libros  and  then  just  pile  them  up.  These  many  books  [she  extends  her 
hands].  To  go  and  sit  down  with  them.  There  was  always  a  homeless  person  or  two 
or  three  or  five  or  ten,  either  sleeping,  reading  or  looking  at  odd  things.  I  remember 
seeing  some  oíd  lady  reading  page  after  page  of  oíd  T.  V.  Cuides,  while  another  time, 
I  saw  some  viejito  reading  a  foreign  book,  but  he  was  holding  it  backwards.  I  thought 
all  this  was  so  fascinating.  It'  s  always  been  my  quiet,  tripping  out  space,  the  library. 

Silvia:  What  did  you  read? 

H.:  I  liked  reading  about  people' s  lives,  biographies.  I  would  read  fiction  and 
magazines  but  it  was  mostly  biographies  I  remember.  At  that  time  I  was  very  much 
struck  by  people' s  lives.  I  also  read  about  Caüfomia  history.  They  had  a  California 
room  where  I  would  read  sections  of  history  books.  More  than  anything  else,  I  just 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  167 


enjoyed  lhe  freedom  to  be  able  to  have  access  to  these  things,  to  pick  a  book  on 
Harriet  Tubman  or  Marilyn  Monroe  or  whatever  my  heart  desired.  Nobody  bothered 
me.  It  was  incredible.  That  is  basically  what  writers  seek,  you  know:  a  little  space. 
A  little  non-distractive  time  to  be  able  to  think  or  feel  whatever  you  want. 

J.:  What  kínds  of  community  services  have  you  done  with  the  public  library? 

H. :  Last  year,  for  example,  they  started  closing  down  public  libraries.  There  was  one 
public  library  in  particular  that  I  adoptad.  It  was  called  Friendly  Stop  Library  in  the 
City  of  Orange.  It's  a  barrio  library.  It's  a  trailer  that  pretty  much  served  the  small 
barrio  there.  I  loved  the  work  that  they  were  doing.  The  librarían  who  worked  there 
was  a  Chicano.  One  day  I  visited  the  library  at  about  3:30  in  the  aftemoon.  It  was 
packed.  Ali  sorts  of  kids  were  there,  reading,  looking  at  magazines.  I  mean  it  was 
a  place  where  the  community  came  together,  almost  like  a  teen  post,  but  the  kids 
were  reading  or  doing  homework. 

The  librarían  was  able  to  disseminate  the  books  that  were  relevant  to  the  kids' 
cultures  and  concems.  It  was  a  wonderful,  wonderful  place  that  belonged  to  them. 
Well  sure  enough  they  were  going  to close  it  up.  I  just  couldn'  tbelieve  this  so  I  wrote 
this  letter  to  ali  my  fríends.  I  said,  "Listen,  here  compás.  I  mean  we  need  to  do 
something  here.  Don't  you  remember  how  important  the  libraríes  were  to  a  lot  of 
us  because  we  just  did  not  have  enough  books  available  to  us?"  And  so  on.  I  must 
have  made  about  75  copies  of  the  letter  and  sent  them  out  to  ali  my  fríends  who  sent 
them  out  to  their  fríends.  Well,  sure  enough,  the  response  was  so  big  that  the  library 
was  awarded  another  grant.  Ali  I  did  was  wríte  a  letter  and  it  worked.  A  lot  of  the 
wríters,  especially  the  Latino  wríters,  responded.  That  was  really,  really  very  nice. 
It  was  wonderful  to  see  that  everybody  took  the  time  to  wríte  letters  to  say  "Don't 
do  this.  This  is  really  important  This  is  my  own  personal  experíence  at  the  public 
library,"  Libraríes  have  always  been  very  close  to  my  heart. 
When  you  grow  up  in  a  family  of  eleven  in  a  three  bedroom  house  in  East  L.  A.  where 
do  you  study?  I  mean  where  can  you  go  to  study?  En  la  cocina.  Yeah,  bueno  after 
you  wash  the  dishes.  You  know  what  I  mean?  The  library  also  provided  me  with 
a  place  to  exercise  my  imagination.  I  could  sit  for  hours,  read,  sleep,  and  nobody 
bothered  me.  Plus  I  had  access  to  the  Information  that  I  wanted  to  have  access  to. 
It  was  really  great. 

S.:  When  did  you  start  to  write? 

H.:  I  started  wríting  seríously  after  coUege.  Actually  I  did  wríte  a  play  in  my  drama 
class  in  high  school.  The  play  even  had  an  underlying  feminism  that  was  subcon- 
scious.  It  dealt  with  the  lives  of  five  prostitutes.  I  mean  what  can  I  say  ?  I  was  a  high 
school  student  at  the  time.  Ms.  Duran,  our  Chicana  drama  teacher,  said,  "We  are  not 
going  to  censor  here.  You  wríte  whatever  you  want  to  wríte.  And  if  you  want  to  use 
curse  words,  you  could  use  curse  words."  ¡Ay!  Bueno.  You  should  have  seen  ali  the 


168  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


pieces  that  the  students  did.  It  was  not  so  much  the  permission  to  use  bad  words,  but 
the  freedom  to  write  unrestrictívely.  Mine  was  one  that  was  selected  to  be  read. 

S.:  What  were  your  college  years  like?  Did  you  write  then? 

H.:  In  1971,  I  got  accepted  to  this  small,  four-year,  liberal  arts  college  called 
Immaculate  Heart  College  in  Hollywood.  People  like  Diane  Keaton's  sister  for 
example  and  Mary  Tyler  Moore  graduated  from  there.  It  was  small,  but  very,  very 
radical.  The  first  year  I  attended,  Tom  Hayden  came  to  teach  there.  What  a 
controversy  that  was!  Las  mujeres,  a  lot  of  them  called  themselves  nuns,  had  their 
own  conmiunities  of  sisters.  It  was  my  understanding  that  some  of  them  were 
excommunicated  from  the  Church  for  their  radicalism.  Nonetheless,  they  defined 
themselves,  created  their  own  conmiunities  of  spirituality  and  although  the  school 
closed  its  doors,  the  community  of  women  still  offered  a  gradúate  course  in  feminist 
spirituality.  Very  interesting  women. 

As  a  student,  I  was  hungry  for  the  Information  they  had  to  share.  But  going  there  I 
realized  in  many  way  s  how  the  sy  stem  had  failed  me  in  terms  of  not  being  prepared. 
There  were  five  Chicanas  and  three  Black  women  and  we  hung  out  like  this,  man. 
We  were  like  this  [a  sign  of  unity].  In  fact,  Eloise  Klein  Healy,  who  was  one  of  my 
teachers  back  then,  came  up  to  me  after  class  once  and  asked:  "God,  we  want  to 
know  what  you  guys  are  thinking  about."  We  felt  so  intimidated,  unprepared,  and 
we  always  sat  in  the  back  really  tight-lipped.  But  I  have  to  hand  it  to  Eloise;  years 
later  I  thanked  her.  She  was  the  first  white  woman  who  asked  me  what  I  thought. 
It  was  a  terrifying  experience  coming  into  this  white  upper  middle-class  university 
because  all  of  us  came  from  very  different  backgrounds.  It  was  an  incredible 
experience. 

J.:  How  did  your  family  react  when  you  decided  to  continue  your  educatíon  ? 

H.:  I  explained  a  litüe  about  my  background  in  terms  of  the  workload  I  had  at  the 
house.  I  remember  getting  up  at  five  and  helping  my  mother  with  the  lunches, 
getting  ready  for  school,  going  to  school,  coming  home.  She  only  let  me  take  drama 
once  a  week  the  last  year  of  high  school.  We  weren't  allowed  to  have  after  school 
activities.  I  had  to  come  home,  help  with  the  dinner  and  then  wash  dishes.  After  eight 
or  nine  o'clock,  I  did  my  homework  un  til  about  midnight.  Then  I' d  go  to  sleep.  I 
always  remember  saying  a  prayer,  "Oh  God,  thank  you  for  this  day .  S  leep  is  the  best 
thing  until  five  o'clock."  I  knew  then  that  if  I  was  going  to  go  to  a  college  or  a 
university  I  would  not  be  able  to  do  it  at  the  house  because  there  was  no  space.  That'  s 
when  I  realized,  I  needed  to  move  into  a  dorm.  At  Immaculate  Heart  College,  they 
gave  me  a  room  at  the  dorms.  I  was  seventeen  years  oíd,  and  needed  signed 
permission.  My  father,  of  course,  said  I  would  move  out  over  his  dead  body.  So  I 
tumed  to  my  mother,  who  hardly  went  against  my  father.  Howe ver,  I  used  a  different 
strategy.  I  asked  her,  "Mamá,  do  you  want  me  to  marry  a  doctor  or  lawyer?"  How 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  169 


coulda  caring  mothernotrespond  affirmatively.  ''¡Pues,  sí!"  she  said.  Then  I  posed 
to  her,  "How  can  I  meet  these  doctors  and  lawyers  if  I  don't  go  to  where  they  are 
studying?"  Ali  1  had  to  do  next  is  show  my  mother  where  to  sign. 
My  roommate,  this  woman  from  Pacific  Palisades,  reminded  me  of  Janis  Jopün. 
She  was  a  very  rebellious  wild  person  and  that'  s  why  she  fell  in  love  with  me  because 
she  said,  "Come  on  over  here.  We're  probably  the  same  thing."  So  1  ended  up 
rooming  with  her.  Two  weeks  later  my  parents  come  to  check  everything  out.  Ali 
my  mother  kept  saying  was  "¿  Onde  están  las  monjiías,  onde  están  las  monjitas  T' 
She  was  waiting  for  the  nuns  to  come  out  and  greet  her.  ''Pues  allá  están,  Mom,  es 
que  están  estudiando^  I  said.  God,  it  was  crazy,  crazy.  Yeah,  I  remember  those 
days.  I  always  remember  those  days. 

S.:  Why  are  those  days  signifícant? 

H.:  It  was  hilarious  because  in  many  ways  they  were  the  most  criticai  days  of 
intellectualism  that  I  had.  When  I  talk  to  students  especially,  1  tell  them  that  this  is 
an  opportunity  for  them  to  get  the  information  that  they  are  going  to  need  for  the  rest 
of  their  Uves.  When  I  was  visiting  Harvard  and  Yale,  the  first  thing  I  did  was  check 
out  the  libraries.  I'm  thinking,  hey,  we  need  to  have  that  too.  This  belongs  to  us  too. 
We  need  to  have  access  to  this  information. 

J.:  Could  you  talk  about  your  role  as  literary  editor  in  XhismeArte,  the  Latino 
literary  and  art  magazine  of  Los  Angeles?  How  did  you  contribute? 

H.:  Sure.  I  was  involved  from  1978  to  1981.  Through  informal  literary  workshops, 
about  25  writers  met  and  shared  their  fiction  works.  I  worked  with  the  Pulitzer  Prize 
winning  joumalist,  Víctor  Manuel  Valle.  We  worked  together  submitting  grants 
and  receiving  money  to  hold  these  literary  workshops. 

In  1981,  I  coordinated  a  special  issue  dedicated  to  La  Mujer  in  an  attempt  to 
recognize  and  bring  into  perspective  our  creative  force.  I  was  the  only  woman  on 
the  editorial  staff  who  brought  forth  particular  gender  issues.  I  can  now  say  that  this 
issue  was  a  valuable  and  historical  contribution  to  the  Chicano/Latino  literary 
tradition.  The  issue  La  Mujer  was  a  publication  designed  for  a  special  anthology. 
Homenaje  a  la  Ciudad  de  Los  Angeles  1781-1981.  In  this  issue,  we  wanted  to 
emphasize  the  other  side  of  literary  history  that  noticed  La  Mujer  as  an  organizer  as 
well  as  a  worker  in  the  fields  and  factories,  a  planner  of  revolutions,  a  generator  of 
ideas,  traditions,  cultures,  beliefs  as  well  as  propagator  of  her  race.  The  one- 
dimensional  depiction  oí  La  Mujer  in  the  arts  and  literature  did  not  do  justice  to  her. 
While  the  Anglo  described  her  as  dark  and  lustful  with  a  sexual  appetite,  the 
Chicano/Latino  painted  her  as  strong,  but  sexless,  or  sensual  but  intellectually 
sterile.  La  Mujer  knows  better.  Both  Barbara  Carrasco,  who  was  the  art  editor,  and 
myself  agreed  to  collaborate  on  this  issue  that  celebrated  La  Mujer. 
A  writer  volees  the  Uves  and  future  of  Chicanas/Latinas.  In  a  society  that  represents 


170  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


inferiority  by  race  and  intelligence  by  sex,  she  must  struggle  endlessly  to  créate 
forms  and  ideas  against  those  negative  images  that  portray  her.  We  are  powerful 
warriors  because  we  can  teach.  In  order  to  continue  to  develop  our  art,  we  must  be 
connected  to  other  women  artistas.  In  a  similar  fashion,  we  mustkeep  in  touch  with 
the  men  of  our  culture,  educating  them  about  the  condition  of  La  Mujer  so  that  we 
can  form  a  collective  voice,  a  literary  and  artistic  consciousness  for  the  good  of  all. 
Some  of  the  contributors  of  La  Mujer  issue,  who  were  relatively  unknown  at  the 
time,  included  Rosa  Elvira  Alvarez,  Alma  Villanueva,  Lin  Romero,  Gina  Valdés, 
and  myself .  The  works  we  presented  capture  a  reality  often  perceived  as  harsh  and 
bitter,  but  honest.  The  art  included  wonderf  ul  work  by  Carrasco,  Yreina  Cervantes 
and  Linda  Vallejo. 

J.:  How  did  the  Latino  Writers  Association  form? 

H.:  This  collectivity  of  writers  grew  out  of  the  woikshops  we  held  for  Xhismearte 
and  speared  by  VaUe.  More  than  anything,  its  purpose  was  to  provide  criticai  and 
moral  support  so  necessary  for  the  development  of  artistas.  It  was  a  stimulating 
environment  where  an  exchange  of  ideas,  constructive  criticism,  and  exploration  of 
intellectual  conversations  took  place.  We  had  a  grand  visión.  Víctor  Manuel  Valle, 
others  and  I  met  every  Thursday  religiously  for  about  three  years.  At  times  it  was 
frustrating  because  I  was  the  only  mujer  in  this  community  of  writers.  That  is  how 
we  came  up  with  the  idea  of  La  Mujer  issue  for  Xhismearte. 

J.:  Focusing  more  on  your  own  development,  who  did  you  read? 

H . :  When  I  was  in  coUege  I  was  reading  a  lot  of  Afiican- American  writers  like  Ralph 
Ellison  and  Richard  Wright.  Anglo  women  writers  like  Doris  Lessing  and  Virginia 
Woolf.  And,  of  course,  the  regulars  of  American  literature.  African-American 
women  writers  like  Toni  Morrison  and  Alice  Walker  came  a  üttle  bit  later.  Angela 
Davis  had  an  impact  on  me  as  well.  I  was  very  impressed  by  that  kind  of  radical 
atmosphere  of  writing  your  roots  and  yourself  and  the  urban  city  plight. 
What  also  struck  me  at  the  time  was  the  Latin  American  writers  and  their  works:  One 
Hundred  Years  ofSolitude,  Pedro  Páramo.  I  had  been  reading  a  lot  but  this  was  so 
different  than  anything  that  I  had  ever  read.  It  was  so  enjoyable.  It  was  the  type  of 
reading  that  just  drew  me  in.  I  just  forgot  about  the  hours.  I  was  no  longer  reading 
but  in  the  world  of  these  writers,  experiencing  the  sights  and  scents.  Words  no  longer 
got  in  the  way  of  the  stories,  you  know  what  I  mean?  Oh !  What  a  wonderf  ul  thing ! 
I  can't  even  describe  it,  to  be  in  another  world  completely  and  not  let  anybody 
distract  you  from  it  until  you  are  out  of  it.  That'  s  what  I  got  from  a  lot  of  these  Latin 
American  writers.  Now  it's  interesting  that  I  probably  would  have  started  writing 
a  lot  sooner  had  I  been  exposed  to  Latin  American  women  writers.  But  by  and  large 
I  was  exposed  to  the  male  writers  because  it  was  they  who  were  being  translated. 
I  was  very  fascinated  by  their  technique,  by  their  storytelling,  by  the  way  they 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  111 

narrated,  by  their  inforaiation.  Yet  I  still  didn't  think  of  writing  on  my  own. 

J.:  What  was  the  impact  of  reading  Pedro  Páramo  ? 

H.:  Once  I  finished  Pedro  Paramo,  that's  when  I  wrote  my  first  short  story, 
"Réquiem  for  the  Poor,"  which  is  about  Chícanos  and  their  parents,  the  cultural 
conflicts,  and  crossing  the  borderfrom  Tijuana.  At  the  time,  I  took  acreative  writing 
course  at  Cal  State  L.A.  where  I  wrote  this  short  narrative.  That's  a  little  story  in 
which  I  tried  to  do  a  Juan  Rulfoesque  kind  of  atmosphere.  My  professor  said, 
"Submit  it  to  the  magazine."  Sure,  you  know  I'  11  submit  it.  And  then  I  got  a  first  place 
fiction  award. 

In  Pedro  Páramo,  I  admired  the  ghostlike  consciousness  he  created  and  the  blurry 
line  between  reality  and  phantoms.  The  form  of  the  narrative  and  the  art  of  telling 
a  story  amazed  me  most  of  all.  As  a  reader,  I  enjoyed  putting  the  pieces  of  the  puzzle 
together.  It  was  a  mystery  to  me.  There  is  a  fine  une  between  realism  and  magic.  I 
am  talking  about  the  magic  in  curiosity  and  awareness  of  the  reader'  s  eye  who  leams 
to  trust. 

S.:  When  was  that? 

H.:  This  was  in  1975  or  76.  Still  in  his  class,  the  professor  asked  us  to  write  about 
something  that  felt  personal  tome.  So  I  opened  up  my  joumal  and  I  picked  out  a  thing 
that  happened  to  me.  And  in  fact  it  was  almost  like  a  two  or  three  day  long 
monologue,  which  tumed  out  to  be  "Birthday."  In  this  story,  I  experimented  with 
stream  of  consciousness.  I  combine  the  cosmic  and  the  personal.  As  a  writer,  I  tried 
to  concern  myself  with  how  to  tell  a  story  as  well  as  the  subject  matter  of  abortion 
and  women's  bodies.  After  I  submitted  this  piece,  my  professor  said  to  me,  "You 
know  you  have  such  a  unique  visión.  I  have  never  read  anything  like  this  before." 
I  began  thinking,  well,  let  me  try  my  hand  at  writing. 

J.:  Speaking  of  the  printed  word,  I  fínd  this  rebellious  spirit  in  many  of  your 
female  characters.  How  does  this  relate  to  your  writing  process? 

H.:  The  rebellion  in  my  soul  is  not  apparent  to  me  until  I  see  it  in  my  characters.  You 
know  it's  interesting  because  when  I  was  writing  Under  the  Feet  of  Jesus  I  wrote 
to  Sandra  [Cisneros]:  "You  know,  Sandra,  I  am  a  grateful  woman  for  many  things. 
But  one  thing  I'm  very  thankful  for  are  these  characters.  Though  one  thinks  I  gave 
them  life,  it  is  they  who  have  given  me  life."  That'  s  the  way  I  feel.  Writing  is  so  basic 
and  so  part  of  my  own  development  as  a  hmnan  being  that  this  is  what  I  want  to  offer 
my  readers  too. 

J.:  How  did  you  come  up  with  the  idea  to  do  "The  Moths"  ,  one  of  your  most 
famous  stories  which  is  published  in  numerous  anthologies? 


172  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


H.:  The  emotion  comes  from  a  very  famous  black  and  white  Life  magazine  photo 
of  a  Japanese  woman  bathing  her  deformed  child.  I  was  overpowered  by  the  love 
I  saw  between  this  mother  and  her  child.  While  the  child  looks  into  space,  the  mother 
shows  such  love  and  compassion  in  bathing  the  child.  I  felt  the  strength  of  bonding, 
love  and  trust  between  the  two.  I  wanted  to  capture  this  feeling  in  the  relationship 
between  the  grandmother  and  her  grandchild  in  The  Moths.  I  chose  the  grandmother 
figure  instead  of  the  mother  figure  because  she  has  more  time  to  take  care  of  the 
spirituality  of  the  children.  The  mother  figure  is  too  cióse  a  generation  to  relate  to 
her  rebellious  daughter.  This  story  is  a  tribute  to  grandparents  and  the  role  they  play 
in  our  Uves.  I  also  show  that  these  people  have  real  lives  with  complexities.  There 
are  no  easy  solutions. 

J.:  This  composíte  of  characters  in  difficult  situations  is  apparent  in  most  of 
your  works.  In  **The  Broken  Web,"  how  did  you  develop  these  intense 
characters? 

H.:  I  was  always  fascinated  by  women's  stories.  The  idea  for  "The  Broken  Web" 
was  given  to  me  by  this  woman  I  knew.  I  went  to  the  court  and  investigated  her  court 
records.  It  was  an  incredible  story.  Her  experience  reminded  me  of  the  movie. 
Dance  with  a  Stranger.  It's  an  interesting  movie  because  it  deals  with  this  woman 
who  works  at  a  bar.  She  is  also  very  confident  about  her  sexuality.  She  is  a  single 
parent  and  she  is  doing  well.  But  then  she  just  falls  in  love  with  the  wrong  guy .  They 
become  obsessed  with  each  other.  They  terrorize  each  other  but  then  they  can't  live 
without  each  other.  They  are  always  drawn  back  to  each  other  for  one  reason  or 
another.  In  our  lives,  at  least  in  the  women  that  Tve  talked  to,  there' s  always  been 
that  occasion  at  one  point  in  somebody's  life,  where  you  have  this  relationship  in 
which  you  become  obsessed  with  this  person,  including  myself.  Getting  back  to  the 
story,  she  ended  up  killing  the  guy  by  shooting  him  so  that  she  could  be  released 
emotionally.  But  the  fascinating  pan  is  that  she  wrote  a  letter.  She  was  the  first 
woman  in  England  tobe  hung,  by  the  way.  That's  why  they  wrote  a  movie  about  it. 
B  ut  the  fascinating  part  of  the  letter  was  that  she  wrote  to  his  mother  to  say  she  lo  ved 
him,  but  he  just  couldn't  keep  his  pants  on.  He  always  kept  wanting  relationships 
with  other  women.  Very  interesting  movie. 

I  see  the  parallel  in  "The  Broken  Web,"  though  I  didn't  see  this  woman  until  years 
and  years  later.  This  woman'  s  husband  terrorized  her  by  doing  horrible  things  to  her 
and  her  children.  That's  when  she  just  got  the  rifle  not  more  than  ten  feet  away  and 
pulled  the  trigger  once,  twice  and  then  reloaded.  Did  it  again.  Then  she  was  tried. 
She  was  tried  first  for  homicide  but  then  the  story  began  to  unravel  the  torment  She 
got  secondary  manslaughter.  She  had  written  a  testimonio  in  her  pocho  English  of 
how  much  she  loved  her  husband,  but  why  she  had  to  do  what  she  did.  I  was  so 
fascinated  by  that.  I  thought,  "Oh,  shoot!  I  want  to  write  this  in  her  voice.  Y  no  lo 
podía  hace  r.  I  could  not  do  iL  Maybe  I  still  will .  Because  it  was  so  fascinating  to  have 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &VoL  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  173 


that  kind  of  voice. 

S.:  Why  did  y  ou  choose  the  daughter^s  voice? 

H.:  Well  the  daughter  is  the  one  who  told  me  about  her  mother.  After  I  interviewed 
her  mother  I  got  the  court  transcripts.  Because  in  a  way,  I  felt  a  certain  amount  of 
responsibility  to  tell  about  this  past  nobody  knew  about.  But  when  the  daughter 
confessed  it  to  me,  she  had  to  be  very  discrete.  Then  I  asked  her,  "Do  you  think  your 
Mom  would  talk  to  me  about  this  so  I  could  write  something  on  it?"  And  she  said, 
"Yeah,  I  think  so.  Let's  talk  to  her."  So  I  talked  to  that  person.  I  got  the  court  case 
first  and  then  1  retumed  to  talk  to  that  woman.  But  even  then  it  was  a  very  delicate 
balance  that  I  had  to  take  because  1  was  really  transgressing  a  lot  of  intímate 
information.  But  these  women  were  very  good  about  this  mixed  report.  They  even 
told  me  about  some  of  the  things  that  this  man  did.  Even  then  the  daughter  instead 
of  the  mother  would  tell  me  about  some  of  the  things  that  she  could  not  talk  about. 

J.:  Was  it  diffícult  to  find  a  publisher  for  The  Moths  and  Other  Stories  at  this 
time  considering  there  were  not  many  established  Chicana/Latina  writers? 

H.:  Why  do  you  think  we  had  such  magazines  as  XhismeArte,  and  Con  Safos!  We 
just  took  publications  into  our  own  hands.  Remember  we  had  a  group  of  Latino 
writers  here  in  the  association.  We  had  people  like  Luis  Rodríguez,  Always 
Running,  Luis.  Luis  was  able  to  develop  a  panei  of  Latino  writers  to  particípate  in 
an  American  Writers  Congress  which  was  held  in  New  York.  That  was  the  first 
major  conference  with  a  Latino  panei  in  years  by  American  writers.  Luis  asked  me 
to  particípate  in  the  panei  with  Nick  Kanellos  whom  1  was  just  beginning  to  know 
through  some  of  the  books  by  Arte  Público. 

At  the  panei,  I  met  Nick  Kanellos  for  the  first  time.  He  was  screaming  and  yelling. 
It's  funny  because  when  1  share  this  story  with  everybody,  they  ali  say  they  have 
stories  of  Nick  Kanellos.  He  was  very  upset  because  there  were  not  many  Latino 
writers  invited,  just  a  handful,  a  speck  such  as  Rudolfo  Anaya,  myself,  and  a  few 
others. 

In  any  event,  as  we  sat  together,  I  leaned  over  and  said  "I  have  ali  these  stories  that 
Tve  written  over  the  years.  Maybe  I  can  put  them  in  a  collection."  He  said,  "Yeah, 
yeah,  go  ahead.  Mail  them  to  me."  That  was  back  in  1981.  It  didn't  get  published 
until  1985.  It  took  a  long  time.  At  that  time  it  took  about  two  or  three  years  to  get 
a  book  ouL  1  got  the  book  on  the  very  same  day  I  brought  my  son  Francisco  home 
from  the  hospital .  Y  me  habló  Nick'  s  pubUc  relation  agent  to  set  up  a  reading .  I  said 
that  I  couldn'  t  because  I  had  just  come  home  from  the  hospital.  "Are  you  okay?"  she 
asked.  "Yeah,  I  just  had  a  baby."  Shortly  afterwards  Denise's  [Chávez]  book  The 
Last  ofthe  Menu  Girls  came.  Denise  and  I  actually  did  our  tour  together  around 
Texas.  That's  how  Denise  and  I  got  hooked  up  together. 
While  they  [Cisneros  and  Chávez]  continued  to  write,  my  writing  still  went  up  and 


174  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


down,  sporadic  in  many  ways.  I  have  always  written  but  Tve  just  done  it  in  short 
terms.  Shortly  before  the  book  The  Moths  was  published,  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  was 
not  even  going  to  be  included.  I  put  it  in  as  a  last  minute  entry  because  another  story , 
a  love  story  about  these  two  Chicano  teachers  at  Garíield  High  School,  was  a  weak 
link  in  the  book. 

J.:  **Cariboo  Café**  is  another  signifícant  landmark  in  expressing  the  concerns 
of  the  Latino  immigrant  experience.  How  did  this  idea  come  about? 

H.:  I  was  living  in  Vancouver  at  the  time  and  I  had  just  had  Pilar.  I  became  very 
obsessively  in  volved  with  the  politics  of  Central  America.  The  New  York  Times  did 
not  provide  sufficient  Information  conceming  Central  America.  I  read  a  lot  more 
through  the  Canadian  papers.  I  was  thinking,  "My  God,  don't  people  in  the  U.S. 
know  what's  going  on?"  I  kept  a  joumal,  mostly  notes.  On  a  personal  level,  my 
motherly  instinct  to  protect  my  child  became  inherently  stronger  as  well  as  my  rage. 
For  "The  Cariboo  Cafe"  I  did  background  reading.  One  day  I  started  with  this  voice, 
a  man's  voice  and  the  way  he  sees  these  particular  people.  The  story  is  divided  into 
three  sections.  I  wrote  the  second  section  first,  the  third  section  second,  and  then  the 
first  section  last.  Not  only  was  I  developing  the  voice  of  the  man,  but  I  was  also 
creating  the  story.  I  wanted  readers  to  become  part  of  the  story,  to  stand  there  and 
witness  what  was  going  on.  I  managed  to  bring  the  readers  in;  they  are  the  bystanders 
at  the  end  of  the  story  looking  into  the  café  in  silence.  At  the  same  time,  I  wanted 
them  to  experience  the  pain  of  this  woman  in  losing  a  child  senselessly,  a  fact  that 
was  happening  left  and  right  in  Central  America. 

That  story  took  me  a  long  time  to  do,  because  the  story  line  was  very  difficult  and 
very  painful.  At  times,  1  cried  as  I  was  writing  it.  Other  times,  1  even  had  nightmares 
about  it.  I  remember  one  night  when  I  woke  up  screaming  because  I  saw  this  man 
take  my  child  and  run  away.  I  was  running.  1  was  touching  her  fingertips.  She  was 
reaching  out  to  me.  I  was  running  faster.  It  scared  the  hell  out  of  me.  I  got  up 
screaming.  1  did  not  know  the  power  of  the  story  or  what  I  was  doing  but  I  felt  that 
I  needed  to  do  something.  I  needed  to  do  something  fast  to  recognize  the  suffering 
of  these  women  who  were  very  much  silenced  because  people  were  not  covering  this 
type  of  material  in  their  articles. 

I  finished  the  piece  in  San  Francisco.  In  fact,  I  had  written  thepiece  when  Pilar  would 
sleep  and  then  I  would  get  up  and  work  for  an  hour  and  then  suddenly  she  would 
wake  up.  The  pattem  would  repeat  itself.  I  remember  the  time  I  finished  it.  It  was 
three  o'clock  in  the  moming.  I  was  supposed  to  take  a  plane  at  seven  o'clock  that 
same  moming  to  go  to  Long  Beach  because  they  had  invited  me  to  this  Women 
Writers  Conference.  I  wanted  to  finish  the  piece  because  I  had  not  done  anything 
new  in  a  long  time.  While  Pilar  was  sitting  in  my  backpack,  I  was  typing  away.  She 
eventually  fell  asleep  at  about  four  thirty.  I  put  her  back  to  bed,  packed  my  stuff,  and 
then  I  was  off .  I  didn'  t  have  time  to  consider  the  impact  that  the  story  had  on  me  until 
I  got  to  the  place  where  I  was  supposed  to  read  it. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  175 


This  was  in  1984.  There  were  two  hundred  women  and  then  we  each  divided  into 
groups.  I  did  not  know  at  the  time  that  Tillie  Olsen  was  in  my  audience.  As  I  began 
reading  the  story,  I  literally  fell  apart.  I  began  sobbing  and  sobbing  because  the  pain 
was  so  close  to  my  heart.  It  was  an  incredible  experience.  I  kept  crying  and  couldn'  t 
stop.  When  I  fmished  the  story,  I  felt  like  such  a  fool  until  I  looked  up.  Everyone  in 
the  room  was  crying.  People  had  tears  rolling  down  their  eyes.  I  just  could  not 
believe  it. 

I  did  not  know  who  Tillie  Olsen  was  physically,  but  I  knew  and  admired  her  as  a 
writer.  She  came  up  to  me,  took  my  hand  and  said  "Fm  so  glad  you're  writing  this. 
Nobody  has  ever  written  this  kind  of  work.  This  is  so  special."  So  I  said,  'Thank  you, 
thank  you.  What's  your  name?"  She  said,  "Tillie  Olsen."  Later  on  that  day,  in  her 
keynote  speech  she  said,  "I  have  just  been  to  an  incredible  reading  of  a  story.  I  think 
this  is  what  we  have  to  be  writing  about,  the  important  aspects  of  life  that  we  have 
to  put  down  on  paper."  I  decided  to  send  this  story  to  Nick  telling  him  to  pull  out 
the  other  story  and  put  this  one  in.  So  that's  how  'The  Cariboo  Cafe"  got  into  this 
book.  Fm  glad  that  it  did  because  it's  a  good  story.  It's  also  one  that  I  could  never 
read  out  publicly.  1  tried  other  times  but  I  decided  that  I  better  not  do  it. 

J.:  In  "Nopalitos,"  you  experiment  with  another  genre,  the  testimonio.  It's 
really  moving.  What  motivated  this  change? 

H. :  Let  me  tell  you.  During  those  crazy  times,  when  I  was  not  actually  writing,  I  was 
keeping  joumals.  I  was  reading,  basically  keeping  a  time  of  silence.  Those  years  that 
passed  were  really  hard  for  me.  When  somebody  contacted  me  and  asked,  "Why 
don'  t  you  write  a  testimonioT  I  could  not  even  come  up  with  the  time  to  do  it.  I  was 
sorry  that  they  wanted  me  to  do  iL 

During  that  time  I  got  a  cali  from  the  Chicano  Literary  Prize,  which  I  had  won  a  few 
years  back  at  Irvine.  They  asked  me  if  1  had  wanted  to  be  the  keynote  speaker  along 
with  Tomás  Rivera.  "Are  you  talking  to  me?"  I  asked.  "Aren't  you  Helena  Maria 
Viramontes?"  they  asked.  I  was  vacuuming  at  the  time.  It  was  hilarious.  I 
immediately  put  some  thoughts  together  because  I  did  not  have  that  much  time  to 
prepare.  1  would  write  sentences  on  postits,  to  put  here  and  to  put  there.  Then  I  just 
typed  it  up  in  four  hours.  It's  good  that  I  did  that  because  that  was  the  basis  of 
"Nopalitos." 

This  incident  is  interesting  because  I  did  the  presentation  on  Wednesday  with 
Tomás  Rivera  By  Sunday,  he  died  of  a  heart  attack.  It  was  incredible.  The  spirits 
have  a  way  of  pointing  me  out  to  people  and  being  where  I  should  be.  It  was  so 
strange  that  I  should  be  there  with  him  and  that  we  should  talk  and  a  few  days  later 
he's  gone.  It  was  very  sad  because  we  were  making  a  date  to  meet  in  a  couple  of 
weeks. 

From  taking  those  notes  that  I  did  for  "Nopalitos,"  María  [Herrera-Sobek]  said  that 
they  were  very  good.  B  ut  I  was  pissed  of f  that  I  did  not  have  enough  time  to  sit  down 
and  write. 


176  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


One  day  Nancy  Stembach  calleé  me  to  say  that  she  really  wanted  me  to  do  the 
testimonio  for  this  anthology.  I  said  OK  that  I  would  sit  down  that  aftemoon,  type 
it  up,  and  work  from  my  notes.  While  my  husband  watched  the  kids,  it  took  me  about 
four  hours  to  put  everything  together  and  send  it  out.  The  next  day  I  regretted  it 
completely.  I  said,  "Oh!  How  could  I  have  possibly  sent  her  this!  Oh!  This  is 
terribly  written!  What  can  I  say?  What  can  I  do?"  A  couple  of  days  later  she  calis 
me  back.  She  says,  "Helena,  we  loved  it.  We  loved  it."  That  was  the  product  of  just 
a  few  hours  work,  but  it  wasn '  t  really .  The  thoughts  and  ideas  had  already  been  there. 
There  were  minimal  changes  done.  I  like  ita  lot.  It  gives  tribute  to  my  mother,  that's 
what  it  does  and  the  importance  of  growing  up  hearing  stories. 

S.:  Are  you  working  more  on  **Miss  Clairol"?  I  loved  that  story.  The  sympathy 
you  have  for  that  character,  Arlene. 

H.:  The  series  of  Paris  Rats?  I  would  like  to  continue.  I  really  respect  Arlene.  It  is 
interesting  because  I  received  a  lot  of  flack  especially  from  the  outer  circles.  "Ay! 
Look  at  the  way  you  are  portraying  a  Chicana!  Look,  she'  s  stealing  lipstick  in  front 
of  her  kids!"  I  asked  "Don't  you  understand?  No  tiene  dinero.  Geez.  Don't  you 
understand  that  she  is  a  young  woman  también  que  trabaja  üke  you  would  not 
believe.  Yeah,  she  wants  to  go  out.  Yeah,  she  wants  to  have  a  good  time.  A  life!" 
Any  way,  yeah,  I  have  to  get  back  to  the  series.  There'  s  a  couple  of  stories  that  need 
to  be  reworked  and  there  is  a  couple  that  need  to  be  written. 

S.:  Have  you  tried  experimentüig  with  other  genres,  theater  for  example? 

H.:  I  see  myself  writing  film.  I  am  very  interested  in  developing  a  script  that  I  did 
at  the  Sundance  Institute.  It  deals  with  a  mexicana  who  is  known  as  the  fírst 
convicted  felón  in  Orange  County.  Pobre  mujer.  I  feel  that  I  have  to  vindícate  her. 
Her  ñame  was  Modesta  Avila.  The  only  existing  picture  we  have  of  her  is  the  photo 
that  was  taken  at  San  Quentin.  This  woman  owned  a  little  patch  of  land  in  1884,  algo 
así.  The  railroads  were  invading  very  fast,  Huntington  being  one  of  the  big  railroad 
magnates.  They  wanted  to  draw  a  straight  line,  a  boundary  through  California.  They 
wanted  to  cross  her  land.  At  first,  she  said,  "No!"  But  then  she  changed  her  mind  and 
said,  "OK,  but  give  me  some  money."  They  said,  "No!"  She  ended  up  going  to  the 
courts  complaining  that  they  were  building  on  her  land  and  not  giving  her  any  kind 
of  compensation.  The  courts  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  her.  The  story  has  it  (which 
captured  my  imagination)  that  she  hung  a  laundry  Une  across  the  railroad  tracks 
though  the  court  records  say  otherwise.  She  had  calzones  telling  them  'Tuckers! 
I'm  going  to  dry  my  laundry."  The  courts  got  so  pissed  off  that  they  arrested  her. 
They  tried  her  and  then  she  was  acquitted.  Because  she  was  acquitted,  she  was  tried 
again  until  they  found  her  guilty  of  obstruction  of  the  railroad.  She  was  given  three 
years  in  San  Quentin.  She  was  pregnant  at  the  time.  Of  course,  she  died  up  there. 
Who  knows  what  happened  to  her  child?   I  was  able  to  get  her  picture  from  a 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  111 


wonderfiil  woman  who  did  some  research  on  her.  I  blew  it  up  and  she's  staring  at 
me  everyday.  Waiting  with  such  moumfiil  eyes. 

So  I  wrote  this  piece  for  the  Sundance  Institute  that  I  plan  to  develop  and  make  it 
into  a  real  great  story .  It  really  needs  to  be  told.  I  am  told  that  some  of  her  family  still 
live.  The  descendants  of  the  Avila  don'  t  talk  about  her.  They  say  that  she  is  not  part 
of  the  family  or  that  she  is  another  string  of  Avila  or  whatever  because  she  is  a 
convicted  criminal.  Pobrecita,  you  should  see  her.  She  is  so  triste.  It  was  really  the 
railroad  magnates  who  just  wanted  to  get  their  way .  Then  it  was  Orange  County  that 
had  developed  its  own  county  away  from  Los  Angeles  and  wanted  to  show  that  they 
were  good,  law  abiding  citizens.  The  people  in  town  treated  her  terribly.  They  said 
that  she  was  famous  with  the  "Santa  Ana  boys  ali  over  town,"  this  kind  of  b.s.  Yeah, 
of  course.  Basically  they  were  representing  her  like  a  lying  slut.  This  woman  had 
a  lot  of  guts,  a  lot  of  spunk.  So  I  see  myself  doing  this  in  fihn,  but  there  are  so  many 
stories  that  I  could  develop. 

J.:  How  did  you  become  involved  with  the  Sundance  Institute? 

H.:  As  you  may  know,  Gabo  [Gabriel  Garcia  Márquez]  is  a  supporter  of  the  Havana 
Fihn  School.  Robert  Redford,  an  admirer  of  Gabo,  was  successful  in  getting  him  a 
visa  to  stay  in  the  USA  for  this  workshop  he  was  putting  together  in  1989.  Gabo 
agreed  to  come  as  long  as  he  could  work  with  five  U.S .  Latino  writers.  This  was  also 
part  of  the  Latin  American  exchange  program  he  had  set  up.  That  was  the  first 
stipulation.  So  then  a  big  national  pool  of  Latino  writers  submitted  their  best  works. 
I  did  not  think  I  would  be  nominated  because  I  was  not  really  a  fihn,  but  a  fiction 
writer  and  I  also  knew  I  was  competing  against  major  people.  When  I  was  finally 
accepted,  I  had  to  decline  the  offer  at  firsL  They  gave  me  the  business  about  my 
lacking  a  "proper"  Spanish.  Well,  I  gave  them  a  history  about  the  Chicano 
Movement  and  the  condition  of  the  working-class  Latinos  in  the  U.S.  At  the  time, 
I  was  also  living  in  Nuevo  México  with  my  kids  and  I  could  not  just  get  up  and  go 
to  the  Sundance  Institute  in  Utah.  Gabo  was  so  accommodating  that  it  was  hilarious. 
He  said  that  I  could  bring  my  kids  along  and  that  I  could  speak  in  Enghsh  if  I  wanted. 
So  now  I  had  no  more  excuses. 

It  was  an  incredible  experience.  Everyday  from  9  am  to  1  pm.  Gabo  instructed  us 
to  come  in  with  a  storyline  that  we  discussed,  pulling  and  challenging  our 
imagination.  Again  I  was  in  that  Uterary  environment  where  we  exchanged  ideas 
and  I  became  familiar  with  the  uterary  traditions  and  concems  of  other  Latino 
writers,  Cubans,  Nuyoricans.  I  also  leamed  that  Gabo  was  a  very  loving  and  sweet 
man.  On  the  last  day,  he  said  that  he  was  so  sentimental  that  he  did  not  know  how 
to  say  good-bye  and  he  left  us  with  tears  in  his  eyes  and  a  wave  of  his  hand.  I  was 
very  moved. 

S.:  What  project  are  you  working  on  now? 


178  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


H.:  This  novel,  for  example,  is  very  small.  But  I  leave  itopen  for  the  characters  who 
are  so  incredibly  rich,  so  incredibly  powerful  that  it  calis  for  other  stories.  It  is  called 
Under  the  Feet  of  Jesus.  It  has  taken  me  a  little  bit  over  a  year  to  work  on  a  consistent 
basis.  That  is  why  Fm  a  bit  tired.  I  still  have  some  expansión.  In  this  work,  I  wanted 
to  give  a  tribute  to  the  Mujer.  I  wanted  to  make  her  fucking  tough.  And  it  works !  I'  ve 
received  very,  very  wonderful  responses.  An  editor  at  Dutton,  a  woman  from  New 
York  told  me,  "I  read  this  and  I  read  it  again.  It  gave  me  the  sense  of  being  a  classic." 
I  was  in  awe.  I  would  not  go  that  far,  but  if  you  want  to  consider  it  a  classic  that's 
OK  with  me.  I  told  her  that  when  I  write  I  really  have  to  take  care  of  my  characters. 
These  are  characters  that  some  people  have  complete  stereotypes  about  or  are 
completely  invisible.  They  have  a  right  to  come  unto  themselves.  They  have  a  right 
to  exist,  to  show  people  that  they  love,  to  show  people  that  they  are  strong,  to  show 
people  that  they  are  responsible,  to  show  that  they  are  responsible  for  the  salad  on 
the  plates,  for  instance.  Think  about  it.  This  woman,  this  young  little  Chicanita, 
comes  out  so  strong.  She  is  incredible.  Her  ñame  is  Estrella.  So  I  feel  really  good 
about  it. 

J.:  By  the  way,  how  did  you  meet  Sandra  Cisneros? 

H.:  Let  me  tell  you.  It  was  destined  that  Sandra  and  I  should  meet  and  become  really 
good  friends.  A  friend  of  mine  in  East  L.A.  said,  "I  just  picked  up  this  book  The 
House  on  Mango  Street.  You  got  to  read  it,  Helena.  I  thought  of  you.  You  got  to  read 
it."  So  then  he  sends  it  to  me.  I  read  it  in  one  sitting.  And  I  just  think,  "God,  this  is 
fabulous!"  And  then  I  am  going  to  read  it  a  second  sitting,  when  another  Chicana 
friend  comes  along  and  I  said,  "Listen,  you  got  to  read  this  book!"  So  then  she  takes 
it  along,  right.  We  start  talking ,  we  were  already  talking  about  "look  how  interesting 
she  got  the  folk  tales  and  she  tumed  them  into  this  and  really  made  them  real  to  us. 
. ."  And  that's  when  my  friend  says,  "Well,  let  me  borrow  it  because  I  need  to  use 
it  for  my  class." 

That  very  day  I  go  home.  I  go  to  my  mother'  s  house  in  East  L.  A.  It' s  late  aftemoon. 
As  I  am  walking  in,  I  see  that  my  mother' s  mailbox  door  is  open,  so  I  get  the  mail 
for  her.  All  of  a  sudden,  there'  s  a  letter  to  Helena  María  Viramontes.  The  ribbon  was 
all  messed  up  so  half  of  my  ñame  carne  but  on  the  top  it  had  Cisneros,  S.  Cisneros 
on  it  with  an  address,  San  Antonio,  The  Guadalupe  Cultural  Center.  I  looked  and  I 
said,  "I  wonder  if  this  is  Sandra  Cisneros,  the  person  who  wrote  The  House  on 
Mango  Street"  So  then  I  open  it  and  it  was  Sandra.  She  said, "  I  picked  up  Cuentos: 
Stories  by  Latinas  edited  by  Cherríe  Moraga.  I  read  your  two  stories.  I  think  they 're 
wonderful.  I  want  to  invite  you  down  to  The  Guadalupe  Cultural  Center."  So  I  called 
her  and  I  said,  "You  know  it's  quite  ironic.  I  just  fmished  your  book."  I  did  not  get 
the  sense  at  the  time  of  the  real  importance  of  the  book,  which  is  incredible.  It  has 
already  sold  tons  of  copies.  It's  used  in  fourth  grade  classes  right  now  all  the  way 
up  to  adult  üteracy  programs  and  gradúate  level  courses  in  literature,  cultural, 
women,  and  sociology  courses  because  it  is  so  textured.  It  is  so  leveled  in  many. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  179 


many  ways  that  there  is  something  for  everybody.  It  will  be  a  timeless  piece. 
Pilar  at  that  time  was  about  seven  months  old.  When  we  went  down  to  San  Antonio, 
Sandra  and  I  hit  it  off  real  fast,  hablando,  hablando,  hablando.  In  fact,  she  gave  me 
a  draft  of  "One  Holy  Night"  [a  story  in  Woman  Hollering  Creek].  After  I  read  it  I 
knew  that  she  was  such  an  incredible  writer. 

From  then  on  each  time  that  she  would  be  around  California,  whether  I  was  living 
up  in  San  Francisco  or  back  in  Irvine,  she  would  cali  me  to  make  sure  that  we  could 
meet  and  spend  time  together.  It  was  always  so  nice.  She  would  come  over  to  the 
house  in  San  Francisco  and  pull  me  out.  "Come  with  me !  So  and  so  invited  me  over 
to  go  have  some  pupusas  at  this  restaurant.  Come  with  me.  Helena."  And  it  was 
funny  because  I  was  pregnant  in  San  Francisco  with  my  second  son.  Then  she  carne 
to  visit  me.  She  had  won  the  Before  Columbus  Book  Award  for  The  House  on 
Mango  Street.  I  always  remember.  I  am  in  the  kitchen  about  to  vomit  and  she  would 
say,  "Hey,  Usten  I  met  so  and  so  at  Stanford.  He's  going  to  take  me  to  a  jazz  club. 
Come  with  me.  Come  on.  Come  on."  And  Fm  like,  "Yeah  Sandra,  right." 
For  a  number  of  years,  Sandra  always  kept  me  connected  to  writers  and  the  aspect 
of  writing.  She  would  always  cali  me.  She  would  always  write  to  me.  Even  in  the 
long  stretch  of  time  when  I  was  just  going  crazy  with  the  kids,  the  evaluation  of  my 
life  and  trying  to  get  it  ali  together,  she  always  reminded  me  that  my  writing  was 
important.  It  should  be  a  big  priority  for  me  to  address.  For  a  time,  I  actually  felt 
myself  in  a  black  hole,  and  if  it  wasn't  for  Sandra  who  kept  me  afloat,  literally,  I 
would  have  died  in  my  own  frustration.  She  is  one,  if  not  the  biggest,  supporter  of 
Chicana  writers. 

J.:  In  1989, 1  took  a  course  called  '*Chicana  Writers'*  with  Professor  Norma 
Alarcón  at  U.C.  Berkeley.  I  was  amazed  because  it  was  the  first  time  I  read  any 
fiction  by  Chicana  writers  and  that's  how  I  was  introduced  to  The  Moths  and 
Other  Stories.  Do  you  consider  yourself  part  of  a  Chicana  literary  movement? 

H.:  Yes,  yes  I  do.  I  would  also  include  Sandra  Cisneros,  Cherrfe  Moraga,  Loma  Dee 
Cervantes  and  many  others  still.  What  this  literary  body  has  in  common  is  that  we 
all  come  from  a  specific  social  situation,  a  working-class  background.  We  have  a 
social  consciousness  of  the  sixties,  the  Chicano  Movement,  the  Black  Movement 
and  the  impact  that  those  radical  days  had  on  us.  We  are  connected  with  a  concrete 
historical  past. 

J.:  In  what  direction  do  you  see  Chicana/Latina  writers  going? 

H. :  We  are  doing  some  very,  very  wonderful  work.  We  are  providing  a  source  of  new 
breath  in  üterature.  We  are  giving  life  to  people  who  have  never  been  in  literature 
before.  That  was  one  of  the  things  that  the  editor  had  told  me.  She  said,  "I  had  never 
seen  characters  just  like  this.  Never."  Look  at  the  voice  of  The  House  on  Mango 
Street.  Look  at  the  Don  Quijote  kind  of  novel  that  Ana  Castillo  wrote.  You  know 


180  Interview  with  Helena  María  Viramontes 


what  I  mean?  We  are  not  just  writing  stories.  It  is  like  we  are  redefining  what 
literature  is  to  us  in  many  ways.  One  of  the  reasons  I  think  we  writers  have  to  write 
essays  is  that  we  need  to  transíate  our  own  work.  Give  it  the  historical  context  by 
which  the  product  was  produced.  It's  all  so  very  new.  There  is  still  discussion 
whether  The  House  on  Mango  Street  is  a  novel,  a  collection  of  vignettes,  or  short 
stories.  There  is  still  that  type  of  problematics  with  the  texts  we  have  created.  We 
have  the  women  creating  the  works  and  right  behind  them  you  have  the  literary 
critics,  by  and  large  Chicanas,  who  are  trying  to  contextualize  it  I  think  the  critics 
complement  the  writers.  They  give  a  bigger  understanding  to  show  people  the 
importance  of  this  work.  It  is  not  only  stories.  This  is  something  more,  a  lot  more 
to  the  movement. 

In  terms  of  historical  and  literary  importance,  there  is  a  great  need  for  this.  That's 
where  I  see  it.  I  think  we  are  doing  very  exciting  work.  Now  the  bigger  publishing 
houses  are  beginning  to  open  up  to  us  but  that  means  little.  We  still  need  the  control 
of  our  own  presses  to  guarantee  that  our  work  will  be  published,  popular  or  not, 
profitable  or  not  And  time.  We  will  have  more  time,  space  and  compensation  to 
work  on  the  stories  that  keep  us  ahve  and  well. 


Juanita  Heredia 
Silvia  Pellarolo 


University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  181 


Críticísm  ín  the  Borderlands 
Interview  with  Héctor  Calderóni 


Introduction 
I 

Héctor  Calderón' s  and  José  David  Saldívar's  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands 
reterritorializes  criticism  by  inscribing  its  social  intersections  and  its  overlapping 
categories  of  literature,  culture  and  ideology ,  and  by  framing  intellectual  production 
within  a  geopolitical  space  filled  with  vivid  historical  memory  and  contemporary 
social  realities.2  To  date,  the  book  has  been  widely  received  as  bringing  new 
dimensions  to  the  discourses  on  borders,  diásporas  and  postmodemism.  It  has  been 
acclaimed  as  a  "virtually  monumental  coUection  [that]  constitutes  a  decisive 
intervention  into  Chicano  criticism  reminiscent  of  classic  feminist  and  African- 
American  anthologies,"  and  as  a  "new  standard  for  Chicano  literary  scholarship... 
poised  to play  amajor role  in  American  letters  in  the  late  twentieth  century ."  Finally , 
it  has  been  credited  with  altering  received  notions  of  "what  counts  as  culture  and 
theory  and  who  counts  as  theorists."^  Not  surprisingly,  little  has  been  said  about  the 
dedication  that  relay s  a  criticai  intention  of  enormous  significance  for  those  whose 
encounter  with  it  is  assumed  as  a  v/ay  out  of  the  historical  neglect  of  Chicana/o  and 
Mexicana/o  cultures.  The  dedication  reads:  "For  ali  who  came  before  us."  This 
dedication  ushers  up  a  generational  effect,  the  possibiUty  of  a  transnational 
migration  toward  other  Chicana/o  subjects  and  cultural  productions  that  have  been 
absent  from  American  literary  histories.  In  addition,  the  book  offers  the  opportunity 
for  another  type  of  m^ping,  one  that  links  present  with  past  efforts,  today '  s  critics 
with  those  of  yesterday.  Thus,  a  historical  consciousness  forms  an  important 
backdrop  for  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands  especially  insofar  as  the  anthology 
incorporales  noteworthy  criticai  movements  generated  within  Chicana/o  criticism: 
its  ideological  breadth  and  theoreücal  parameters;  its  global  travei  between  first  and 
third  worlds;  and  its  passage  from  commentary  to  metacommentary. 

As  many  have  pointed  out  in  book  reviews  and  citations  from  Canada,  France, 
Germany,  México,  and  the  U.S.,  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands  offers  an  important 


182  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


moment  within  the  development  of  a  criticai  practíce  that  has  survived  and 
flourished  "through  the  persistence  of  committed  women  and  men/"*  The  ñames  of 
many  of  the  contributors  to  the  volume  are  now  famiüar  to  those  working  in 
Chicana/o  literature.  A  few  of  these  critics  even  figure  within  general  literary  and 
cultural  studies.  However,  much  needs  to  be  done  if  the  criticai  affiliations  conjured 
up  at  the  imaginary  level  in  the  dedication  are  to  be  fuUy  realized.  General  and 
specialized  histories  of  criticism  still  show  üttle  or  no  inclination  for  mapping  the 
roads  taken  and  not  taken  in  Chicana/o  criticism.  The  collective  efforts  that  gave 
birth  to  the  cultural  movements  within  Chicana/o  criticism  are,  thus,  not  part  of  the 
historical  record,  leaving  students  of  culture  with  the  idea  that  no  one  came  before 
US  (at  least,  no  one  that  matters).  This  makes  it  difñcult  to  see  how  the  debates 
associated  with  the  theories  of  widely  disseminated  critics  such  as  Gloria  Anzaldúa, 
for  example,  are  part  of  extensive  cultural  conversations  that  can  only  be  entered  by 
going  beyond  the  borders  of  the  criticism  of  "the  mainland"  toward  an  altemative 
field  of  criticism.  I  am  referring  to  criticism  that  includes  the  trajectories  of 
individual  critics  as  they  refashion  their  criticai  identities,  that  records  their 
conversations  with  other  criücs,  that  seriously  examines  all  those  real  processes 
involved  in  the  consolidation  of  a  field  of  study. 

II 

At  a  time  when  students  of  Chicana/o  literature,  culture  and  ideology  have  at 
their  disposal  a  wide  variety  of  epistemological  and  theoretical  frameworks  with 
which  to  engage  cultural  productions  and  are,  indeed,  contributing  to  these  frame- 
works in  new  and  exciting  ways,  it  is  important  to  reevaluate  the  nature  of  the 
practice  that  has  given  rise  to  Chicana/o  criticism  itself,  not  only  in  terms  of  the 
analysis  of  criticai  perspectives,  but  also  in  tenns  of  the  nature  of  the  activity  and 
the  individual  histories  that  it  encompasses. 

My  interview  with  Héctor  Calderón  emerged  as  a  result  of  an  interest  in  this 
field  sparked  years  earüer  by  the  fact  that,  unlike  many  other  students  of  Chicano 
literature,  I  studied  with  Chicana/o  mentors  and  commentators  of  Chicana/o 
literature.  I  had  the  opportunity  to  see  Chicana/o  criticism  being  produced  as  a 
gradúate  student  at  the  University  of  Caüfomia,  San  Diego,  There  a  criticai  dialogue 
was  in  full  swing  with  the  likes  of  critics  such  as  Rosaura  Sánchez,  Joseph  Sommers, 
Jorge  Huerta,  Marta  Sánchez,  Carlos  Blanco,  Yvonne  Yarbro-Bejarano,  Juan 
Rodríguez,  Jaime  Concha,  and  a  strong  nucleus  of  gradúate  students  .^  Together 
professors  and  students  brought  contemporary  theories  of  culture  to  bear  upon 
Chicana/o  literature;  thus,  Chicana/o  criticism  was  not  only  something  that  was 
being  formulated  there  at  the  Literature  Department  at  UCSD  and  its  affiliates,  it 
was  something  that  was  being  transformed  on  the  page,  in  the  late  seventies  and 
early  eighties. 

Through  this  exposure  I  gained  an  interest  in  understanding  how  critics  of 
literature  arrived  at  their  criticai  positions.  At  the  same  time  in  my  work,  I  began  to 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  áVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  183 


see  the  value  of  offering  a  different  kind  of  representation  of  critics,  one  that 
incorporated  their  voices,  their  self-reflexive  dialogue,  theirown  metacommentaries, 
their  memories  of  their  trajectories,  their  exchanges  with  those  who  carne  before 
them  and  those  who  followed. 

If  the  annals  of  criticism  were  not  registering  the  impact  of  another  criticai 
history,  if  Chicana/o  criticism  had  only  embraced  the  field  as  theoretical  ap- 
proaches,  then  I  had  to  talk  to  the  critics  themselves,  a  practice  that  was  still  quite 
a  novelty  as  this  format  was  generally  reserved  for  their  literary  counterparts  who 
were  often  associated  with  highly  privileged  forms  of  writing.  The  idea  of  doing 
criticism,  a  history  of  criticism,  through  interviews  raised  some  eyebrows  even 
though  this  format  facilitated  the  recovery  of  a  discourse  that  had  been  marginalized 
and  muted.  From  another  angle,  however,  recovering  Chicana/o  criticism  this  way 
was  entirely  appropriate  because  the  idea  of  "dialogue"  was  vital  to  criticism.  As 
Todorov  explains,  "criticism  is  dialogue.. .the  encounter  of  two  voices..."  involving 
múltiple  authorship,  contrasting  works  and  ahistorical  trajectory  .^  Conscious  of  the 
limitations  of  Chicana/o  versions  of  "cómo  se  comenta  un  texto  literario,"  I  wanted 
to  reconstruct  the  practice  of  criticism  in  a  way  that  shunned  the  notion  of  the  scholar 
critic  as  an  exclusive  textual  persona,  as  a  commodity,  or  as  the  sole  promoter  of 
literary  standards  and  assumptions.  I  was  interested  in  refashioning  criticai  identi- 
ties  and  criticai  passages  that  were  vital  to  the  continued  dissemination  of  Chicana/ 
o  literature  and  criticism.  I  was  animated  by  the  lacunae  in  the  history  of  criticism, 
by  a  need  to  talk  back  to  the  histories  of  criticism  that  had  accepted  the  idea  that 
criticism  had,  indeed,  undergone  a  fundamental  change  in  the  seventies  but  could 
not  fathom  the  idea  that  another  criticai  sphere  was,  in  effect,  operating  and  doing 
so  imder  a  different  chronology  and  maintaining  a  strong  afFiliation  with  the  public 
sphere. 

ra 

This  interview  with  Héctor  Calderón  (and  the  others  with  critics  such  as  Norma 
Alarcón,  Erlinda  Gonzales-Berry,  Mana  Herrera-Sobek,  Luis  Leal,  Genaro  Padilla, 
José  David  Saldívar,  Ramón  Saldívar  and  Rosaura  Sánchez  that  form  part  of 
"Conversations  with  Chicana/o  Critics")  bears  witness  to  the  striking  changes  in  the 
history  of  literary  criticism  that  have  yet  to  be  assessed;  to  the  divergem  institutional 
backdrops  that  frame  Chicana/o  criticai  production;  and,  finally,  to  the  significance 
of  the  ethnographic  focus  for  understanding  how  we  entered  the  academy.  It  is  my 
hope  to  leave  future  students  of  Chicana/o  Uterature  with  an  idea  of  some  of  those 
who  came  before.  The  ethnographic  passages  through  life  histories  of  critics 
(outside  of  the  institution  of  criticism)  are  absolutely  crucial  for  understanding  the 
complex  social  dimensions  of  Chicana/o  criticism  and  the  conditions  of  its  produc- 
tion. It  was  suggested  to  me  that  I  edit  out  these  passages  from  this  history,  that  I 
represem  Chicana/o  intellectuals  as  just  that,  intellectuals.  I  rejected  this  idea 
because  these  lived  experiences  form  an  essential  part  of  this  criticism  in  the 


184  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


borderlands:  they  offer  a  passageway  out  of  the  notion  of  criticism  as  a  self- 
contained  unit  and  deepen  our  understanding  of  the  relations  between  criticism  and 
society. 

The  interview  with  Calderón  was  itself  historically  marked  by  an  important 
event  The  interview  took  place  within  a  week  of  the  conference.  Chicano  Literary 
Criticism  in  a  Social  Context,  that  was  jointly  coordinated  by  Héctor  Calderón  and 
José  David  Saldívar  and  formed  the  basis  for  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands.  The 
atmosphere  was  charged  with  electric  anticipation  and  dutiful  purpose:  soon, 
representative  scholars,  critics,  and  writers  with  diverse  criticai  and  institutional 
affiliaüons  would  be  descending  upon  Stanford  University  for  an  exchange  that 
promised  to  mark  new  directions  in  Chicano  literary  theory  and  criticism.  Among 
the  most  visible  participants  would  be  novelists,  Rolando  Hinojosa-Smith  and 
Arturo  Islas,  and  poet.  Loma  Dee  Cervantes.  Many  longstanding  and  new  members 
of  the  Chicano  criticai  community  would  be  in  attendance.^  Already  the  "genera- 
tional"  effect  was  beginning  to  manifest  itself  in  Chicana/o  criticai  discourse, 
particularly  through  self-reflexive  debates  surrounding  past  and  present  conceptual 
frontiers  of  Chicano  literary  and  criticai  genres. 

Anticipation  of  the  conference  weighedheavily  upon  the  interview  participants 
(myself,  José  David  Saldívar  and  my  student  assistant  Angélica  Coronado)  who 
approached  the  ensuing  criticai  dialogue  armed  with  the  general  consensus  that 
Chicana/o  criticai  discourse  had,  indeed,  crossed  an  important  watershed  in  the 
eighties,  boldly  entering  into  a  new  phase  of  its  existence:  an  age  of  Chicana/o 
criticism  that  had  not  yet  received  proper  definition.  No  longer  would  Chicana/o 
criticai  discourse  be  subordinated  to  the  existential  fact  of  any  given  literary  text, 
no  longer  would  critics  bear  the  unjust  burden  of  an  anti-theoretical  impulse.  Just 
as  Chicana/o  literature  had  been  recovered,  j  ust  as  it  had  grown,  Chicana/o  criticism 
would  flourish,  and  it  would  be  part  of  the  historical  record.  Recognition  of  these 
changing  dimensions  of  Chicano  criticai  discourse  influenced  the  course  of  the 
dialogue,  continually  obliging  both  interviewer  and  interviewee  to  go  back  and 
retrace  the  course  of  the  trajectory  of  Chicana/o  criticai  discourse  from  the  personal, 
autobiographical  narrative  as  a  Chicano  and  as  a  critic,  to  his  various  experiences 
and  formation  at  diverse  literary  institutions,  to  the  collective  experiences  and 
works  of  other  critics  of  Chicano  literature,  and,  finally,  to  the  various  schools, 
polemics  and  points  of  contact  between  dissimilar  criticai  traditions  and  their 
respective  literatures. 

At  the  center  of  this  collage  of  criticai  passages,  domains,  and  forces,  emerges 
a  vivid  and  forceful  portrait  of  a  Chicano  critic,  Héctor  Calderón,  at  work  as  he 
labors  with  the  disparities  of  competing  Spanish,  Latin  American,  Anglo- American 
and  Chicano  literary  traditions  and  conventions,  offering  the  reader  a  glimpse  into 
the  intersecting  hterary  horizons  that  are  currently  shaping  the  dimensions  of 
Chicana/o  criticism  in  the  late  eighties  and  early  nineties.  The  cultural  and  literary 
dimensions  of  Calderón' s  enterprise  were  visually  represented  by  a  sixteenth- 
century  Arable  map  of  the  world  displayed  in  his  office  (where  our  interview  took 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  185 


place)  that  inverted  the  relations  between  north  and  south,  between  first  and  third 
world  nations.  The  walls  of  his  office  were  lined  with  the  narratives  of  Garcia 
Márquez,  Islas,  Cervantes,  Cisneros,  Hinojosa,  Donoso,  and  the  criticai  disconrses 
of  Jameson,  Sommers,  Iser,  Sánchez,  Monegal,  Saldívar,  and  Frye,  to  cite  a  few. 

The  fruits  of  Calderón' s  own  production  include  not  only  Criticism  in  the 
Borderlands,  but  also  a  book  on  modem  and  postmodem  narrative,  Conciencia  y 
lenguaje  en  el  "Quijote"  y  "El  obsceno  pájaro  de  la  noche  "  (Editorial  Pliegos, 
1987),  praised  in  a  recent  review,  "Criticai  Approaches  to  Latin  American  Fiction" 
in  Latin  American  Research  Review  (29. 1  [1994]).  His  work  on  Chicano  literature 
includes  the  following  diverse  publications:  an  often  cited  work  on  genre  with  the 
first  readings  of  Chicano  romance  and  satire,  "To  Read  Chicano  Narrative: 
Commentary  and  Metacommentary,"  Mester  (1983);  a  brief  article  in  a  coUection 
of  remarkable  essays  by  highly-regarded  critics  on  Rolando  Hinojosa  that  stood  out, 
according  to  the  editors,  for  its  originality  and  sophistication,  "On  the  Uses  of 
Chronicle,  Biography,  and  Sketch  in  Hinojosa's  Generaciones  y  semblanzas,"  The 
Rolando  Hinojosa  Reader  (1985);  a  lengthy  essay  that  set  a  new  standard  for  lucid, 
precise,  nuanced  readings  of  Chicano  literature,  "Rudolfo  Anaya's  Bless  Me, 
Ultima.  A  Chicano  Romance  of  the  Southwest,"  Crítica  (1986);  an  insightful 
overview  of  and  introduction  to  the  many  and  varied  accomplishments  of  Chicano 
literature  and  criticism,  "At  the  Crossroads  of  History,  on  the  Borders  of  Change: 
Chicano  Literary  Studies  Past,  Present,  and  Future,"  Left  Politics  and  the  Literary 
Profession  (1990);  an  essay  in  postmodem  criticism  combining  empirical,  creative 
and  criticai  discourses,  "Reinventing  the  Border:  From  the  Southwest  Genre  to 
Chicano  Cultural  Studies,"  Rearticulations:  The  Practice  of  Chicano  Cultural 
Studies  (forthcoming);  and  now  for  Mester,  Calderón  engages  the  reader  in  a  criticai 
dialogue.  Calderón  will  continue  his  work  on  Chicano  narrative  in  his  current  book 
project  entitled,  "Contemporary  Chicano  Narrative:  A  Tradition  and  Its  Forms," 
which  is  well  under  way.  His  work  as  editor  and  scholarhas  been  acknowledged  and 
cited  in  the  United  States  and  abroad  by  numerous  critics  in  the  fields  of  American 
Literature,  American  Studies,  Anthropology,  Chicano  Studies,  Cultural  Studies, 
Comparative  Literature  and  Latin  American  Literature.  Some  of  these  critics 
include,  Houston  A.  Baker,  Jr.,  Ruth  Behar,  Hanny  Berkelmans,  Jay  Clayton,  Rosa 
Femández-Levin,  Henry  Louis  Gates,  Jr.,  Fredric  Jameson,  Abdul  JanMohamed, 
George  Lang,  José  Lhnón,  Antonio  Márquez,  Renato  Rosaldo,  José  David  Saldívar, 
Ramón  Saldívar,  Chuck  Tatum,  Horst  Tonn  and  Marc  Zimmerman. 

Originally  from  Calexico  and  the  son  of  Mexican  immigrants,  Héctor  (üalderón 
is  currently  Associate  Professor  in  the  Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese  at 
UCLA.  Here,  we  chronicle  his  trajectory,  beginning  with  his  place  of  origin. 


186  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 

Interview 

IV 

Angie:  I*d  like  to  begín  by  asking  you  about  your  personal  history,  where 
you're  from,  your  early  educatíon  and  so  on. 

Héctor:  Where  I  was  bom?  ¿Lo  quieres  en  español  o  en  inglés?  (Do  you  want  it  in 
Spanish  or  English  ?) 

A:  En  inglés  está  bien  (English  isfine). 

H:  I  was  bom  in  Calexico,  California.  My  parents  both  carne  from  México,  so  I'm 
the  first  generation  bom  here  in  the  United  States. 

A:  What  year  did  they  come? 

H:  Soon  after  the  Mexican  Revolution.  My  father,  Bemabé  Calderón,  is  from 
Guaymas,  Sonora  and  my  mother,  Luz  Valle,  is  from  Torreón,  Coahuila.  My  father 
arrived  at  the  age  of  nine  in  19 19  with  his  grandmother,  a  sister  and  two  cousins;  my 
mother  carne  in  1924  at  the  age  of  five  with  her  mother  through  the  hard  work  and 
good  fortune  of  her  eldest  brother.  On  my  mother' s  side,  her  family  eamed  a  living 
mainly  as  migrant  farm  workers,  but  during  her  generation  they  managed  to  settle 
down.  On  my  father' s  side  they  were  railroad  workers  on  both  sides  of  the  border, 
working  for  the  ínter-California  in  Mexicali  or  the  Southern  Pacific  in  Calexico.  In 
fact,  I'm  the  first  Calderón  male  not  to  work  on  the  railroad.  My  parents  have  known 
each  other  since  childhood. 

A:  And  where  did  they  settle? 

H:  In  Calexico.  I  lived  there,  I  went  to  elementary  school  and  high  school  there. 

A:  What  kinds  of  schools  did  you  attend? 

H:  I  attended  public  schools  except  for  kinder  at  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe  Academy . 

A:  What  was  your  experience  in  the  educational  system? 

H:  Well,  that  was  before  the  Chicano  Movement,  so  you  can  imagine.  The  town  is 
right  on  the  border,  about  95%  Mexican  American.  From  my  house  you  could  walk 
to  Mexicali,  which  is  what  the  town  is  called  on  the  Mexican  side.  I  tend  to  think  of 
both  sides  as  one  city,  as  one  economic  entity .  Up  until  1924,  with  the  establishment 
of  the  Border  Patrol,  the  two  sides  weren't  really  divided.  Famiües  lived  on  both 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  áVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  187 


sides.  Now  the  fence  is  a  constant  reminder  of  separation.  Calexico  is  a  very 
Mexican  town.  In  terms  of  the  educational  system,  which  in  the  1950s  was 
controlled  by  the  Anglo  minority,  well,  what  can  1  say?  It  was  a  segregated  school 
system. 

A:  Were  your  classes  predominantly  Chicano? 

H:  There  was  one  class  that  was  almost  completely  Anglo  composed  of  children  of 
merchants  and  fanners  and  ali  the  rest  of  the  classrooms  were  almost  completely 
Mexican.  We  also  had  a  few  Asian  and  African  American  students  as  well  as 
Mexican  students  from  Mexicali's  upper  class.  Most  of  the  students  in  my 
classroom,  rumored  to  be  one  of  the  toughest  and  lowest  academicaUy,  were  the 
children  of  migrant  farm  workers  who  lived  in  the  oldest  Mexican  neighborhood, 
La  Garra  (The  Rag).  La  Garra  was  a  shanty  town  with  unpaved  streets  across  the 
tracks  from  the  main  part  of  town.  From  the  first  grade,  in  195 1 ,  the  class  was  kept 
pretty  much  intact  through  the  eighth  grade.  Out  of  some  thirty  plus  students,  three 
of  us  graduated  from  high  school  on  time,  a  few  others  had  to  repeat  grades  and  the 
rest  were  lost  along  the  way. 

A:  Was  Spanish  spoken  at  ali  in  the  classroom? 

H:  Ali  of  the  children  spoke  Spanish,  but  it  was  frowned  upon:  you  were  sometimes 
punished  for  speaking  Spanish.  I  guess  it's  not  an  uncommon  experience. 

A:  At  home  did  you  speak  Ei^lish  or  Spanish? 

H:  Spanish.  It  was  our  first  language. 

A:  What  was  your  parents'  educational  background? 

H:  They  both  have  a  seventh  grade  education.  I  do  recall  that  when  I  was  five  my 
father  took  me  to  get  my  first  library  card.  That  was  very  significant  in  my  life. 

A:  What  about  the  other  members  of  your  family^-did  they  go  on  to  high 
school? 

H:  Yes.  I  have  six  sisters,  and  they  ali  finished  high  school.  There' s  a  fifteen  year 
separation  between  the  eldest  and  the  youngest,  so  you  can  get  the  pattem  of 
transition  from  Mexican  American  to  Chicano.  My  older  sisters  were  raised  more 
Mexican,  very  traditionally,  because  of  the  influence  of  our  maternal  grandmother 
Amada  Valle  who  lived  with  us  until  her  death.  Then  with  me  (in  terms  of  ages,  Tm 
in  the  middle)  and  the  sixties,  there' s  a  shift  to  maybe  another  way — really  a 
Chicano  perspective. 


188  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


A:  At  what  point  did  you  become  interested  in  going  to  coUege?  What 
motívated  you  to  go  on? 

H:  I  never  thought  about  college  until  my  júnior  or  sénior  year  in  high  school.  In 
those  days,  there  weren't  really  counselors  for  Chicanos:  that  was  something  that 
you  did  on  your  own.  B ut  two  years  before  I  graduated,  a  group  from  our  high  school 
had  gone  on  to  the  UC  system,  and  they 'd  done  so  well  that  as  a  group  they  received 
an  award  for  the  highest  GPA'  s  from  a  single  high  school.  So  that  started  something: 
after  that,  there  was  a  small  stream  of  students  that  would  go  on  to  the  UC  system. 
Out  of  my  graduating  class  in  1963,  a  group  of  five  Chicanos  from  Calexico  went 
on  to  UCLA. 

A:  Did  your  sisters  attend  college? 

H:  The  younger  ones  did,  immediately  after  high  school.  My  older  sisters  did  not 
until  later.  Five  of  them  have  attended  at  least  two  years  in  a  júnior  college  or 
university.  The  youngest  graduated  in  Spanish  from  UCLA  and  is  an  elementary 
school  teacher  in  bilingual  classrooms  in  El  Monte,  California. 

A:  When  did  you  become  interested  in  literature?  Was  it  in  high  school?  Did 
you  or  other  members  of  your  family  read  much  literature? 

H:  No,  in  high  school  I  was  more  interested  in  the  sciences.  I  was  in  the  college  prep 
science  track — science  and  math. 

My  interest  in  literature  carne  about  not  so  much  through  the  printed  word  as  through 
storytelling.  I  was  very  cióse  to  my  grandmother,  we  all  were.  My  parents  had  no 
advanced  education;  however,  they  were  to  a  certain  degree  literate.  But  we  had  a 
grandmother  who  told  us  stories  every  night.  This  was  before  our  family  had  a 
televisión  set,  and  that  might  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  closeness  of  our 
family  group. 

A:  What  kinds  of  stories  did  your  grandmother  tell  you? 

H:  We  were  told  all  kinds.  Stories  of  her  childhood  in  México.  She  was  bom  Amada 
Triana  in  1888  in  Sombrerete,  Zacatecas.  I  recall  a  story  about  an  evil  cacique  don 
Natividad  del  Toro,  others  about  Indian  raids  and  the  Revolution.  She  also  told  me 
traditional  stories  that  later  I  found  could  be  traced  to  other  sources  in  Spain  such 
as  the  romance  of  Genoveva  de  Brabante  which  I  later  rediscovered  in  Alejo 
Carpentier's  Los  pasos  perdidos  (The  Lost  Steps).  Then  there  were  the  stories  that 
she  made  up,  imaginary  ones,  children's  stories,  many  versions  of  la  llorona  (the 
wailing  woman).  Al!  of  it  from  Hispanic  and  Native  American  traditions,  but  oral... 


Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  189 


A:  And  the  purpose  was  to  entertain...? 

H:  It  was  entertairanent,  yes,  and  instruction,  valúes.  I  couldn't  go  to  sleep  without 
having  a  story  told.. 

A:  And  what  was  your  relatíonship  to  Anglo  American  literature?  Were  you 
exposed  to  anything  conventíonal  outside  of  school? 

H:  No,  just  in  school. 

A:  How  did  you  fínally  come  to  study  literature? 

H:  When  1  went  to  college  and  started  reading  more  widely  I  became  involved  with 
literature.  But  it  wasn't  a  serious  enterprise  until  I  read  Latin  American  literature. 
About  five  years  before  that,  in  1965, 1  was  in  the  Work  Study  Program  working  for 
Wayland  D.  Hand,  Director  of  the  Center  for  Folklore  and  Mythology  at  UCLA, 
when  I  happened  to  run  across  the  works  of  J.  Frank  Dobie  and  a  book  by  an  author 
with  a  Spanish  súmame — Paredes.  The  title  was,  of  course,  "With  His  Pistol  in  His 
Hand."  I  started  reading  it  and  couldn't  put  it  down.  I  read  it  straight  through  even 
though  I  was  at  work.  I  became  interested  in  folklore,  took  a  course  from  Professor 
Hand,  and  even  coUected  stories,  proverbs  and  folk  cures  from  my  family  for  him. 
Those  were  the  sixties  and  I  was  very  much  affected  by  the  oral  tradition  including 
Black  folk  and  blues  music  and  rock  'n  roll.  Although  1  was  an  undergraduate,  I 
worked  as  a  bibliographer  alongside  gradúate  students  some  of  whom  were  quite 
famous  in  their  own  right  John  Fahey ,  a  folk  performer;  Pete  Weldon,  a  blues  record 
producer;  and  a  crazy  fellow  named  Barry  who  introduced  me  to  the  blues  and  who 
went  on  to  fame  ii)  late  night  radio  and  MTV  as  Dr.  Demento.  Working  in  Folklore 
and  Mythology  for  three  years,  reading  Américo  Paredes,  coming  from  an  oral 
storytelling  tradition  within  my  family,  searching  for  altemative  fonns  of  artistic 
expression  aU  carne  together  for  me  in  Latin  American  literature  especially  in  the 
work  of  Juan  Rulfo,  Gabriel  Garcia  Márquez  and  José  Donoso. 

A:  Did  you  have  contact  with  any  Chicano  professors? 

H:  No.  There  were  no  Chicano  professors  at  UCLA  at  that  time.  While  1  was  there 
at  UCLA  I  think  there  were  only  seventy  or  eighty  Mexican  Americans.  About 
eleven  were  from  my  hometown  so  we  had  a  Uttle  group  that  hung  out  together.  But 
no,  no  Chicano  professors  that  I  recall. 

A:  When  did  you  initiate  your  studies  in  Spanish  and  Latin  American  litera- 
ture? 

H:  I  initiated  them  later...after  teaching  seventh  and  eighth  grade  in  El  Monte,  I 


190  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


decided  I  wanted  to  be  a  teacher,  and  I  went  back  to  get  what  I  thought  would  be  a 
secondary  credentíal  in  Spanish.  But  one  thing  led  to  another  and  before  I  knew  it 
I  was  in  the  B.  A.  program  in  Spanish  at  Cal  State  LA.  And  then  from  ±ere  I  went 
into  the  M.A.  program  at  Irvine. 

A:  At  Cal  State  LA,  did  you  take  any  courses  in  Chicano  literature? 

H:  No.  I  studied  Spanish  and  Latin  American  literature.  You  had  to  have  abalance 
between  those  two,  but  I  never  had  a  course  in  Chicano  üterature.  Never. 

A:  When  did  you  begin  teaching  Chicano  literature? 

H:  Not  really  until  Yale,  in  1983.  Although  1  did  teach  some  Chicano  literature  in 
my  Chicano  culture  course  at  Stanford  in  1981. 

A:  What  about  Irvine?  Did  you  have  any  kind  of  professional  relationship  with 
people  involved  in  Chicano  Studies?  Chicano  literature? 

H:  No,  we  didn'  t  have  a  Chicano  instructor  there  until  the  year  I  lef  t,  when  Alejandro 
Morales  came.  We  gradúate  students  were  not  encouraged  to  study  Chicano 
literature.  A  course  like  that  would  have  to  be  an  independent  study,  and  the  units 
would  not  count  toward  your  degree. 

A:  How  did  the  Chicano  Movement  influence  your  literary  sensibility? 

H:  I  was  at  UCLA  when  it  began;  1965  was  an  important  year  with  the  strike  in 
Delano.  Reies  López  Tijerina  from  New  México  came  to  speak  (all  in  Spanish)  to 
UCLA  students.  I  remember  in  1968  a  small  group  of  us  from  United  Mexican 
American  Students  (U.M.A.S.)  met  with  the  Chancellor  in  his  office,  requesting 
Chicano  courses.  Chicano professors...  these  events  made  an  impression,  politically 
speaking. 

A:  Do  you  remember  the  first  Chicano  novel  or  poem  that  you  read?  What  was 
it?  What  was  its  impact  on  you? 

H:  When  1  was  a  gradúate  student  in  1972  in  the  M.A.  program  at  UC  Irvine  a 
professor  of  mine,  Seymour  Mentón,  had  written  a  review  that  appeared  in  Latín 
American  Literary  Review  of  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra  by  Tomás  Rivera.  Seymour 
told  me  that  Tomás  Rivera  had  been  a  student  of  his  in  Guadalajara,  México  during 
one  of  those  summer  National  Defense  Institutes  in  the  60s.  So  he  gave  me  the 
review  and  said,  in  his  unique  voice,  "Here,  Héctor,  read  ±is — it's  Chicano 
literature."  So  1  did,  I  read  it,  and  of  course  I  was  immediately  involved  with  Chicano 
literature.  Right  after  that  Alurista's  Floricanto  en  Aztlán  came  out  and  then  in  '72 


Mester,  VoL  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  <ÍVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  191 


Anaya's  Bless  Me  Ultima,  which  won  the  Quinto  Sol  Prize.  So  that's  more  or  less 
when  I  began  to  read  Chicano  literature. 

Later,  in  the  fali  of  1 974  the  chair  of  the  Spanish  Department at  Irvine,  Juan  Villegas, 
wanted  to  see  the  department  involved  in  an  activity  that  would  have  an  impact  on 
the  Chicano  and  Latino  community  of  Southern  California.  So  I  was  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Chicano  Literary  Prize;  several  of  us  gradúate  students  together  with 
Villegas  and  Alejandro  Morales  put  that  contest  together  in  1974-1975,  organized 
the  whole  thing.  And  that's  when  I  began  to  be  very  much  involved  with  Chicano 
literature.  Fm  very  proud  of  having  a  hand  in  the  oldest  continuous  prize  in  Chicano 
letters. 

I  recall  that  I  asked  Seymour  Mentón  if  he  could  get  Tomás  Rivera  to  come  and 
speak  at  the  award  ceremonies  for  the  prize,  since  they  were  friends  and  Seymour 
had  written  that  review.  Rivera  came  to  Irvine  in  1975,  and  I  met  him  as  well  as  Ron 
Arias  who  had  won  first  place  in  short  story...  and  that  was  the  beginning  of  my 
Professional  contact  with  Chicano  professors  and  writers. 

A:  What  was  your  educational  experíence  Uke  as  a  gradúate  student?  Could 
you  trace  your  evolution  as  a  reader  and  critic  during  those  years? 

H:  My  first  interest  was  in  Latin  American  hterature.  The  book  that  fired  my 
imagination  and  started  me  on  that  track  was  Garcia  Márquez' s  Cien  años  de 
soledad  (One  Hundred  Years  ofSolitude)  and  then  Juan  Rulfo  and  all  the  writers  of 
the  "Boom."  In  the  early  stages,  about  1971,  it  was  just  an  interest  in  reading  the 
literature,  without  any  criticai  activity  attached  to  iL 

I  developed  an  interest  in  literary  theory  while  woiking  with  Professor  Andrés  Diez 
Alonso,  a  Spaniard,  at  Irvine.  He  was  a  Marxist  and  as  intelligent  and  knowledge- 
able  as  any  of  the  famous  critics  I  have  met.  He  was  an  outstanding  teacher  and  my 
role  model.  He  would  give  us  students  everything  he  had  in  his  übrary  to  read.  Under 
his  guidance,  it  was  a  smooth  transition  to  having  a  criticai  approach.  Later  on,  I  tried 
to  apply  ±e  same  disciplined  rigor  to  Chicano  literature. 

A:  When  and  where  did  you  earn  your  doctórate? 

H:  When  and  where  ...  and  under  what  circimistances?  I  attended  Yale  from  fall 
1975  to  fall  1977  having  completed  aU  courses  with  Honors,  language  requirements 
and  written  and  oral  qualifying  exams  by  May  of  1977.  When  my  wife,  Vicki,  and 
I  had  our  flrst  daughter  in  November  1976, 1  stayed  home  with  her,  Catherine,  from 
the  time  she  was  five  weeks  until  December  1977;  Vicki  worked  full  time  for  a  bank 
in  downtown  New  Haven.  Af ter  the  department  accepted  my  disseration  prospectus 
in  December  1977,  we  retumed  to  California.  After  Yale,  I  just  couldn't  get  a 
teaching  position  though  I  tried.  I  was  a  substitute  teacher  for  the  East  Área  of  the 
LA  Unified  School  District  and  taught  courses  at  night  at  Cal  State,  LA  while  I 
worked  on  the  thesis.  I  fmished  the  thesis  in  the  fall  of  1980  as  I  was  starting  my  first 


192  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


teaching  positíon  at  S  tanford  having  been  of fered  a  lecturership  by  Jean  Franco.  The 
doctórate  with  a  Major  in  Contemporary  Latin  American  Literature  and  a  Minor  in 
Comparative  Literature  was  awarded  in  May  of  1981. 

A:  What  was  it  like  going  from  Irvine  to  Yaie? 

H:  It  was  a  pretty  big  change.  I  mean  if  you  can  imagine  never  having  studied 
literature  at  all  and  going  to  Cal  State  LA,  and  everything  goes  well,  and  then  to 
Irvine,  and  again,  things  go  well,  and  you  seem  to  be  on  this  track  you  never  thought 
of,  never  dreamed  of ...  And  then  you  get  accepted  into  the  Spanish  department  at 
Yale. 

Getting  accepted  there  was  very  important  to  me.  I  wanted  to  study  with  Emir 
Rodríguez  Monegal,  who  was  at  the  time  one  of  the  most  important  critics  of  Latin 
American  literature.  I  applied  to  only  one  place  and  that  was  Yale. 
I  arrived  there  with  quite  a  bit  of  idealism  about  the  place.  Being  there  was  a  little 
dif ferent  than  what  F  d  expected,  but  there  were  positive  aspects. . .  I  had  a  friend  from 
high  school,  Conrado  Aragón,  now  a  Superior  Court  Judge  in  East  LA ...  he' d  come 
to  Yale  the  year  before  I  arrived,  and  he  set  me  up  with  another  fellow  to  help  smooth 
the  transi tion.  And  the  other  fellow  was  Ramón  Saldívar.  It  tumed  out  we  even  lived 
in  the  same  building.  We  were  neighbors  in  a  Latin  American  student  barrio  that 
also  included  Ernesto  Zedillo  from  Mexicaü.  Ramón  was  a  gradúate  student  in 
Comparative  Literature  in  his  last  year  working  with  G.  Hillis  Miller  and  Paul  de 
Man.  Ramón  and  I  hit  it  off,  and  at  the  time,  in  terms  of  making  that  transition,  that 
was  very  important  I  also  met  José  David  Saldívar  who  was  a  j  unior  at  Yale  College . 

A:  Describe  your  relationship  with  Monegal.  How  did  he  influence  your  work? 

H:  His  was  a  very  powerful  influence  until  his  death  in  1985.  Both  friends  and 
enemies  would  agree  thathe  was  a  powerful  presence.  He  was  my  professor  for  only 
one  gradúate  course,  a  seminar  on  Borges  in  1975  in  which  José  Saldívar,  as  an 
undergraduate  was  a  fellow  classmate.  For  the  thesis  we  agreed  that  I  would  woric 
independently  and  when  necessary  seek  his  advice.  After  our  initial  meetings,  we 
met  only  twice  while  he  was  in  California  at  USC.  In  1983  when  I  retumed  to  Yale 
as  a  faculty  member,  he  took  me  under  his  wing.  We  were  good  friends  although  we 
had  different  politicai  opinions.  He  never  steered  me  in  any  one  direction  and  was 
willing  to  help  me.  Much  was  written  aboutMonegal's  politics  in  the  early  seventies; 
that  is  part  of  the  history  of  the  "Boom."  Although  he  had  his  idiosyncrasies,  he 
didn't  force  his  views  on  his  students.  By  the  way,  not  many  know  that  his  daughter 
was  imprisoned  in  Uruguay  for  her  activities  with  the  Tupamaros .  We  met  in  his 
hospital  room  a  week  prior  to  his  death  from  cáncer;  he  expressed  his  extreme 
pleasure  with  the  way  my  career  was  developing.  As  you  well  know,  a  history  of 
Latin  American  literature  cannot  be  written  without  mention  of  his  ñame.  I  am 
pleased  to  have  had  a  similar  relationship  with  Roberto  González  Echevarría,  my 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  AVoL  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  193 


foraier  Chair  at  Yale,  who  I  consider  the  highest  ranking  critic  in  Latín  American 
literary  criticism. 

Monegal  was  a  prometer  of  literature  and  ^proached  it  as  an  avid  but  careful  reader 
and  wrote  in  a  style  that  was  part  criticism  and  part  joumalism,  He  came  from  an 
earlier  school  of  critícs  having  studied  on  a  scholarship  with  F.  K.  Leavis  in 
England;  he  then  pursued  his  literary  interests  through  joumalism.  He  was  able  to 
reach  a  wide  audience  with  that  balanced  style  which  it  seems  many  critics  lack.  I 
am  stíll  not  completely  able  to  do  that  myself,  but  Fd  like  to — to  write  for  a  wide 
audience  and  at  the  same  time  maintain  a  criticai  edge.  He  also  taught  me  the 
importance  of  one'  s  work.  He  had  such  a  strength  of  will  and  contínued  reading  and 
writing  (his  memoirs)  untíl  the  very  end. 

A:  What  was  your  course  of  study  at  Yale? 

H:  I  went  there  to  study  Latin  American  literature,  particularly  tíie  contemporary 
period,  because  I  saw  a  relatíonship  between  my  o  wn  intellectual  growth,  the  1 960s, 
the  Chicano  Movement,  and  a  parallel  development  in  Latin  America.  There  was 
a  growing  consciousness  of  one  continent  with  interests  Üiat  transcended  national 
boundaries,  and  I  think  the  same  sort  of  consciousness  was  part  of  the  Chicano 
Movement 

A:  What  was  the  topic  of  your  dissertation? 

H:  It  was  on  the  theory  of  the  novel,  using  an  historical  approach.  I  did  a  comparati  ve 
study,  Cervantes' s  Don  Quijote  and  JoséDonoso'  s  El  obsceno  pájaro  de  la  noche. 
But  before  I  explain  about  that,  you  have  to  understand  what  it  was  like  when  I  came 
to  Yale...  The  tremendous  excitement.. .  It  was  the  period  from  1975  to  1977,  and  the 
Yale  critics  were  not  yet  the  "Yale  critícs,"  everything  was  in  the  formative  stages, 
a  very  exciting  time  to  be  in  literature.  One  of  the  first  weeks  I  was  there,  Ramón 
said,  "Derrida  is  coming."  I  said,  "Who's  Derrida?"  Well,  pretty  soon  I  found  out 
who  Derrida  was. 

About  my  third  or  fourth  week  at  Yale,  I  am  walking  into  an  auditorium  to  hear 
Derrida  speak,  and  having  people  point  out  Geoffrey  Hartman  and  Paul  de  Man,  J. 
Hillis  Miller.  And  the  aünosphere  was  sortof:  Here  was  the  word.  The  final  answer 
was  about  to  be  given,  and  all  these  critics  were  gathered  to  hear  it. 
And  that  poststructuralist  way  of  thinking  was  very  influential  for  me.  At  the  same 
time,  I'd  always  had  a  historical  perspective,  there  was  that  element  too...  Because 
of  the  historical  bent  of  so  much  of  Latin  American  literature,  especially  writers  of 
the  "Boom"  such  as  GarcíaMárquez  or  Fuentes,  we're  almost  obligated  to  ^proach 
it  with  an  historical  perspective.  With  Anglo  American  literature,  we  don' t  do  that. 
I  was  trying  in  the  dissertation,  "Self  and  Language  in  the  Novel,"  to  bring  historical 
depüi  to  poststructuralism.  As  you  can  tell  by  the  tíüe  it  was  very  much  a  "Yale" 
thesis  in  the  light  of  the  work  of  Paul  De  Man  and  Derrida.  It  seemed  to  me,  for  my 


194  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


own  fonnation,  that  I  needed  some  historical  reconstructíon  of  the  representation  of 
the  subject  through  language.  What  Derrida  was  calling  the  metaphysics  of 
presence,  the  unión  of  Greek  conceptuality  and  Christian  creationism,  I  found  all 
there  in  the  intellectual  sources  for  Cervantes' s  Don  Quijote.  So  I  took  two 
importantmoments  in  the  developmentof  narrative  in  Spanish,  the  beginning  of  the 
modem  with  Cervantes's  Don  Quijote  (1605, 1615)  and  the  postmodem  with  José 
Donoso' s  El  obsceno  pájaro  de  la  noche  (1970).  I  was  taking  two  slices  out  of 
history  à  la  Foucault  to  find  out  something  about  the  ideológica!  preconditions  for 
the  epistemologies  at  work  in  each  book.  For  both  psychological  narratives,  once 
consciousness  comes  under  scnitiny  there  follow  similar  concems  with  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  subject  through  language. 

I  located  Cervantes's  concems  with  the  psychological  subject  as  the  locus  of 
signification  in  the  psychological,  aesthetic,  and  linguistic  discourses  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  in  Juan  Huarte  and  Alonso  López  Pinciano.  The  concems  with 
the  ingenio  natural  (natural  genius)  and  the  ánima  racional  (rational  soul),  with 
what  the  self  can  know  and  understand  through  representational  language,  in  large 
measure,  determine  Cervantes's  concepts  of  the  writer  and  reader  as  well  as 
character.  I  was  trying  to  document  with  Spanish  sources  what  Foucault  had  written 
about  modemity  and  the  Quijote  in  Les  mots  et  les  choses  {The  Order  ofThings). 
This  rationalist  epistemology  in  Quijote  leads  eventually  to  Fielding's  experimen- 
tation  with  exemplary  narrative. 

The  influence  of  Henry  James  on  José  Donoso  served  as  a  superstructural  mediation 
connecting  an  earlier  nineteenth-century  psychological  reaüsm  in  the  works  of 
Balzac  and  Flaubert  with  the  search  for  representing  hidden  states  of  consciousness 
through  parable  and  allegory .  These  strategies,  so  much  like  Freudian  psychoanaly- 
sis,  were  to  mark,  as  R.  P.  B  lackmur  had  written  earlier,  James'  s  tum  toward  literary 
modemism.  This  historical  layering  is  evident  in  Donoso' s  deconstmction  of  the 
patriarchal  subject.  Although,  1  mustexplain,  that  Donoso  added  his  own  narrrative 
discourses  from  Native  American  tales  and  myths  to  mass  media  images,  newspa- 
pers,  romantic  novéis  and  Disney  comics.  This  fabulation  and  storytelling  were 
indicative  of  a  Latin  American  postmodemism.  Chicano  writers  like  Tomás  Rivera 
and  Rolando  Hinojosahave  used  similar  techniques  (the  layering  of  orality,  realism 
and  modemism),  although  in  a  less  baroque  fashion,  to  produce  a  collective 
subjectivity. 

I  was  trying  to  pulí  all  that  together,  and  it  was  somewhat  naive,  to  think  1  could  do 
it.  But  to  me  it  seemed  important  to  relate  these  two  periods,  the  Renaissance  and 
what  was  being  called  postmodemism... showing  connections  between  the  Spanish 
Renaissance  and  the  handling  of  these  forms — the  novel,  romance,  satire,  chronicle 
and  what  was  happening  in  the  1960s  with  the  Latin  American  "Boom."  Critics  were 
doing  this  in  other  literatures,  and  I  wanted  to  do  it  with  Spanish  and  Spanish 
American  literature.  It  was  an  ambitious  project,  and  not  totally  successfiíl.  But  in 
terms  of  my  fonnation  as  a  critic  to  understand  modemity  and  postmodemism,  it 
was  very  important. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  195 


A:  Your  experíence  has  been  that  of  a  Chicano  coming  from  a  bílingual, 
working-class  background,  growing  up  on  the  border  and  living  in  the  United 
States  as  an  ethnic  minority.  What  impact  might  that  background  have  had  on 
your  formation  as  a  critic? 

H:  Well,  just  coming  from  a  background  that  was  largely  oral  was  bound  to  have  an 
impact.. Then  going  to  Yale  where  writing  is  everything,  the  written  text  every- 
thing.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  approach  was  skewed  toward  Europe  and  a  large  part 
of  the  worid — a  lot  of  literature  and  storyielling — was  being  left  out.  The  heavy 
emphasis  on  the  written  word  means  that  you're  basing  your  whole  ontology, 
thinking  of  Derrida,  on  something  that's  iimited  mainly  to  a  single  continent,  and 
leaves  out  the  majority  of  the  people  in  the  world.  Those  early  memories  of  my 
grandmother  telling  me  stories  have  had  a  tremendous  influence  upon  the  way  1 
think  about  literature. 

Another  thing  that  bothered  me  about  Yale,  offended  me,  even,  was  this  notion  that 
history  does  not  exist.  That  even  the  subject  doesn't  exisL  Again,  that  seemed  to 
exclude  a  whole  group  of  people  who  were  very  much  involved  with  history,  who 
were  making  history  at  that  moment  The  Chicano  Movement  itself,  for  example, 
was  not  only  making  history  but  it  was  a  new  collective  subject.  And  there  didn't 
seem  to  be  a  space  for  thinking  about  that  within  the  framework  that  says:  "there' s 
no  subject,  there' s  no  history." 

José  Saldívar:  If  I  could  inteijectjust  something?  Héctor  and  I  were  saying  recently 
that  it  seems  a  bit  ironic — just  when  ali  these  critics  are  talking  about  "the  end  of  the 
subject,"  and  we  have  Chicanos,  feminists,  and  other  people  of  color  finally 
beginning  to  see  themselves  as  subject  s,  as  capable  of  action  instead  of  just  being 
acted  upon...  It  may  not  be  a  coincidence  that  mainstream  critics  are  talking  about 
the  end  of  the  subject  just  when  those  people  who  have  been  cut  off  from  power 
become  aware  of  their  potential  role — ^as  subjects — within  the  historical  moment. 

H:  Walking  around  New  Haven  you  would  hear  people  spouting  these  things,  you 
know,  there's  no  history,  there's  no  subject  But  of  course  there  is.  You  know  that 
there  is,  and  1  know  that  there  is! 

A:  I  think  that  what  you^re  saying  right  now  closely  relates  to  a  series  of 
important  matters  that  arise  from  the  interaction  of  two  dissimilar  traditions 
of  literary  criticism.  I  am  referring  to  the  kinds  of  politicai,  cultural  issues,  and 
the  problems  raised  by  looking  at  a  text  from  the  periphery  of  the  mainstream 
criticai  culture...  Obviously  the  questions  raised  by  alternative  partially 
incorporated  perspectives  are  bound  to  have  an  impact — they're  going  to 
interject  not  only  new  types  of  cultural  discourse,  but  new  questions,  new  ways 
of  looking  at  literary  texts.  As  you  said  earlier,  often  there  is  a  gap  between  what 


196  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


happens  in  maínstream  criticism  and  what  happens  in  Latín  American  and 
Chicano  criticism.  I'm  curious  as  to  how  it  was  for  you,  working  in  the  Spanish 
department  at  Yale  and  attemptíng  to  incorpórate  all  these  elements — how  did 
you  find  these  theoretícal  trends,  such  as  deconstruction,  beii^  reckoned  with 
in  the  Spanish  department? 

H:  I  had  some  problems,  you  know,  with  fellow  classmates  at  Yale  and  well-known 
critics  who  would  take  every  wave  of  new  criticism  that  came  out  of  France  and 
swallow  it  whole  and  then  apply  it  to  Latin  American  literature.  Those  French 
critics,  including  the  Belgian  Paul  de  Man,  had  their  own  historical  development — 
they  had  worked  their  way  through  the  philosophy  of  language,  phenomenology, 
existentialism.  All  of  that  had  come  in  stages,  and  here,  it  was  taken  whole  and 
complete  and  applied  to  produce  a  poststructuralist  reading  of  the  latest  book  out  of 
Latin  America,  like  cri  tic  Alicia  Borinsky  did,  for  example ...  Derrida  in  Europe  was 
much  more  tentative  and  policitically  subversive  given  his  place  within  Western 
philosophy.  Yet  here,  in  the  United  States,  the  way  he  was  read,  was  very  orthodox 
and  conservative.  It  seemed  to  me  there  was  a  problem  with  that  Roberto  González 
Echevarría  who  began  his  career  as  a  disciple  of  Derrida  and  deconstruction  began 
to  see  its  limitations  and  his  work  on  the  Latin  American  chronicle  and  novel  was 
an  important  shif  t  toward  reading  literature  as  a  social  institution  embedded  with  the 
history  of  both  Spain  and  America. 

And  going  back  for  a  moment  to  my  dissertation,  I  thought  that  if  I  was  going  to  truly 
understand  poststructuralism,  I  needed  to  trace  it  back  through  the  various  steps  that 
Western  thought  had  gone  through  to  reach  this  point,  this  particular  poststructuralist 
orpostmodemist  moment.  As  things  stood,  these  theories  weren'tbeing  sufñciently 
reckoned  with;  they  were  being  lifted  whole  from  the  French  tradition,  whatever  the 
current  fashion. 

A:  As  a  gradúate  student  at  Yale,  with  a  solid  grounding  in  criticai  theory,  can 
you  tell  me  what  was  your  communication  with  other  critics  of  Chicano 
literature?  Did  you  see  any  relationship  between  what  you  were  experiencii^ 
within  the  maínstream  criticai  tradition  and  what  you  saw  going  on  within 
Chicano  and  Latin  American  criticism? 

H:  At  that  point,  I  have  to  say  I  knew  very  little  about  a  "Chicano"  criticai  tradition. 
I  had  read  a  Httle  bit  about  people  like  Roberto  Cantú,  and  Alejandro  Morales  who 
was  at  Irvine  the  last  year  I  was  there,  and  Luis  Leal,  who  was  also  a  writer  I  was 
familiar  with  at  the  time.  Then  when  I  arrived  at  Yale,  Juan  Bruce-Novoa  was  there, 
it  was  his  second  year  on  the  faculty  there.  So  my  knowledge  was  fairly  limited  as 
to  what  was  being  done  in  Chicano  literature. 

Even  so,  and  partly  I  suppose  because  of  my  own  background,  I  felt  uncomfortable 
about  some  of  the  things  Roberto  Cantú  was  saying,  to  the  effect  that  Chicano 
writers  were  responding  to  some  chaos  that  could  not  be  described,  could  not  be 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol  xxiii,  NoJ  (Spring,  1994)  197 


defined.  Chaos,  and  then  ali  of  a  sudden,  Chicano  literature!  At  UCI,  I  heard  him 
give  a  talk  on  Oscar  Zeta  Acosta' s  responding  to  chaos  in  East  LA  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  something  essential  was  being  avoided...that  there  needed  to  be  work  done 
to  describe  just  what  that  "chaos"  was. 

And  of  course  it  was  Juan  Bnice-Novoa  who  made  the  most  of  the  notion  of  chaos. 
His  work  on  the  subject  had  a  religious  bent  to  it  Drawing  on  Bataille  and  Juan 
García  Ponce,  he  saw  the  Chicano  artist  existing  outside  of  society  and  politics,  a 
romantic  figure  who  made  art  out  of  nothing,  who  transfonned  chaos  into  fonn. 
Juan's  "space  of  Chicano  literature"  was  limited,  sacred  and  inviolable.  1  had  a 
problem  with  that  type  of  early  Chicano  criticism  as  well. 

A:  Did  you  study  with  Juan  Bruce-Novoa? 

H:  1  never  took  a  course  with  him,  but  he  was  (and  continues  to  be)  a  very  good 
friend,  very  supportive,  as  well  as  the  first  person  I  met  when  I  came  to  the  Spanish 
department. 

A:  Can  you  comment  on  the  reception  of  someone  like  Bruce-Novoa  at  Yale? 

H:  It  was  very  positive;  the  students  liked  him  a  lot,  and  he  had  quite  a  following. 
Although  Ramón  Saldívar  as  a  gradúate  student  taught  the  first  Chicano  literature 
course  in  the  Spanish  department  at  Yale,  we  should  credit  Juan,  1  think,  with 
establishing  from  the  beginning  of  his  tenure  a  real  Chicano  presence  at  Yale,  and 
this  included  working  with  another  professor  in  history,  Pedro  Castillo.  In  fact  I 
remember  being  somewhat  envious  of  the  undergraduates,  because  there  were  so 
many  more  of  them  (they  had  a  hundred  plus  students,  we  only  had  seven  or  eight 
Chicano  gradúate  students  at  the  time  scattered  over  the  entire  campus)  and  they  in 
tum  seemed  such  a  close  group.  He  did  a  lot  to  bring  people  together,  to  establish 
that  conununity...  In  large  measure,  he  made  possible  my  position  at  Yale. 

A:  When  did  you  begin  writing  specifícally  about  Chicano  literature — what 
was  the  fírst  criticai  project  that  you  embarked  on? 

H:  At  Stanford  in  1980-81. 1  was  a  lecturer  at  Stanford;  I  taught  in  the  bilingual 
program  and  also,  for  the  first  time,  I  began  to  teach  Chicano  literature  and  culture. 
Then  the  following  year  I  went  to  UCL  A  as  a  Visiting  Lecturer  in  Spanish  American 
Literature,  not  Chicano  Literature.  The  Spanish  department  sponsored  a  mesa 
redonda  (round  table)  with  Alurista,  Guillermo  Hernández  and  Margarita  Nieto  as 
candidates  for  a  position  in  Chicano  literature  and  I  was  asked  to  be  the  fourth  person 
on  the  panei.  That  was  my  first  formal  paper  in  November  1981;  it  was  called 
"Literatura  chicana  como  comunicación"  ("Chicano  Literature  as  Communica- 
tion").  In  thatpaper  I  applied  Wolfgang  Iser's  theories  of  reading  to  Y  no  se  lo  tragó 
la  tierra. 


198  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


A:  What  was  the  main  point  you  were  tryíng  to  make  about  Chicano  literature 
as  a  form  of  communication?  Were  you  taking  from  Jakobson's  model? 

H:  Well,  I  was  attracted  to  the  work  of  Wolfgang  Iser  and  Fredric  Jameson  who  had 
been  my  professors  at  The  School  of  Criticism  &  Theory  in  1978.  They  both  offered 
me  a  more  historical  appproach  to  üterature  different  from  the  desconstructive 
fashion  of  the  time.  I  had  began  to  explore  their  theories  in  my  gradúate  papers  at 
Yale.  Jameson  offered  me  an  ideological/historical  approach  to  literature...  Iser 
raised  the  question  of  how  ideology  is  transferred  from  a  transindividual  system  to 
the  text,  how  the  text  incorporales  an  ideology,  which  is  then  reactualized  by  the 
individual  reader.  And  in  that  sense,  this  whole  idea  of  reading  itself  being  an  act 
of  performance  and  interaction  becomes  important. 

That  first  piece  on  Chicano  üterature,  and  a  lot  of  the  work  Tve  done  through  the 
mid-eighties,  was  attempting  to  blend  the  ideas  of  these  two  writers,  Iser  and 
Jameson,  and  apply  them  to  a  text,  in  this  case,  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra.  And  what 
came  out  of  that  was  the  idea  that  Rivera  was  striving  for  the  same  kind  of  conmiunal 
relationship  with  his  audience  that  story tellers  traditionally  enjoy:  the  same  face-to- 
face  dialogue  and  directness,  the  same  intimacy  of  communication  but  doing  it  in 
a  print  culture,  and  that  could  only  be  accomplished  by  asking  the  reader  to 
participate — to  engage  in  some  kind  of  performance  of  the  book.  And  through  this 
reading-performing  process,  as  the  protagonist  arrived  at  consciousness  of  himself 
and  his  world,  the  Chicana  and  Chicano  reader  would  also.  And  if  that  were  the  sort 
of  experience  Rivera  was  aiming  for  in  this  exemplary  narrative,  then  the  fragmen- 
tation  of  the  plot  made  sense,  because  it  served  the  purpose  of  encouraging  the 
reader' s  active  participation:  the  reader  reconstructed  the  plots  along  with  the 
protagonist  of  the  story  and  produced  an  ideology  of  a  Chicano  community,  a 
constant  theme  in  Rivera' s  essays.  Of  course,  the  strategies  are  more  complicated 
than  my  description  for  one  should  take  into  account  the  layering  of  historical 
moments  as  Rivera  takes  the  reader  from  residual,  to  dominant  or  hegemonic,  to 
emergent  utopian  ideologies.  In  the  end,  the  singular  or  individual  subjectivity  of 
the  Chicano  artist  is  at  the  service  of  the  community. 

A:  One  of  your  first  published  essays  on  Chicano  literature  was  called  **To 
Read  Chicano  Narrative:  Commentary  and  Metacommentary."  I  wonder  if 
you  might  talk  a  little  more  about  how  Fredric  Jameson  influenced  you  in  this 
piece  since  the  title  of  your  essay  is  so  remimscent  of  his  earlier  work, 
"Commentary  and  Metacommentary." 

H:  Jameson' s  writings  have  been  very  influential  in  my  work.  Actually,  our  interests 
have  taken  us  along  similar  paths.  He  may  be  the  only  one  of  the  world-ranking 
critics  who  reads  Chicano  literature.  He  has  taught  Chicanas  and  Chicanos  in  his 
courses.  As  I  already  mentioned,  I  took  a  course  from  him  at  the  The  School  of 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  199 


Criticism  and  Theory  at  Irvine  in  summer  1978  after  finishing  my  course  of  study 
at  Yale.  As  you  well  know,  a  group  of  Chicano  critics  including  Rosaura  Sánchez, 
José  Limón,  Lauro  Rores,  Ramón  and  José  Saldívar  are  constructing  a  discourse 
infonned  by  and  also  criticai  of  Jameson.  I  have  shared  my  work  with  him  and 
consider  him  a  sü^ong  supporter  of  Chicano  literature.  Had  it  not  been  for  Jameson, 
Criticism  in  the  Borderlands  (1991)  might  not  have  been  published.  In  1987  I  sent 
the  prospectus  for  this  collection  to  every  major  university  press  in  the  United  States 
including  my  home  press  at  Yale.  I  was  tumed  down  by  all  except  Duke  University 
Press.  The  Director  Dick  Rowston,  who  had  grown  up  in  central  California,  gave 
the  prospectus  to  Jameson.  Jameson  encouraged  the  press  to  continue  with  the 
project  for  inclusión  in  his  "Post-Contemporary  Interventions"  series.  The  collec- 
tion was  published  in  spring  1991;  the  first  printing  had  sold  out  by  late  1993. 
I  am  so  pleased  that  he  saw  the  valué  in  this  criticai  anthology. 
While  I  was  stniggling  with  realismo  mágico  (magic  realism)  in  my  gradúate  papers 
at  Yale  in  1975-76,  his  article  "Magicai  Narraüves:  Romance  as  Genre"  in  New 
Literary  History  aUowed  me  to  refocus  my  writing  in  terms  of  the  representation  of 
the  subject.  After  completing  my  dissertaüon  in  1980  and  reading  The  Politicai 
Unconscious,  1  discovered  that  we  both  had  reached  similar  conclusions  on  the 
different  social  worlds  that  give  rise  to  romance  and  novel  and  on  the  importance 
of  the  concept  of  the  psychological  subject  for  the  development  of  realistíc 
narrative.  And  the  combination  of  oral  tales,  myth,  curse  and  satire  thatoccupiedmy 
writing  in  the  final  chapter  of  the  dissertaüon  and  for  which  I  had  no  term  is  now 
being  referred  to  as  Third  World  postmodemism  or  "the  retum  to  storytelling." 
Later  in  Criticai  Inquiry,  Jameson  himself  Üirough  his  friendship  with  the  Cuban 
critíc  Roberto  Fernández  Retamar  wrote  an  article  on  magic  realism  in  film.  Thus 
narrative  as  determined  either  by  First  World  or  Third  World  realities  has  led  me  to 
retum  to  the  writings  of  Jameson. 

In  the  article  on  commentary  and  metaconunentary  also  on  chicano  romance  and 
satire,  I  was  drawing  on  genre  criticism  in  üie  work  of  Jameson  and  also  Northrop 
Frye.  I  had  been  encouraged  to  continue  my  work  on  narrative  and  these  critics  by 
my  professors  at  Yale,  Peter  Brooks  and  Alfred  MacAdam.  Jameson  and  Frye 
offered  an  altemative  to  the  novel-centered  interpretaüon  of  Chicano  narrative. 
When  one  thinks  of  the  many  forms  of  oral  and  written  narrative  throughout  world 
cultures,  one  has  to  realize  how  culture-specific,  how  European,  is  our  notion  of 
Chicano  narrative. 

Frye  gave  me  the  European  contexL  Jameson' s  idea  that  genres  are  dependent  on 
a  specific  moment  for  their  origin,  üieir  invention,  and  that  they  die  or  re-surface 
according  to  changing  social  conditions  was  also  very  attractíve.  And  Iser  was  also 
very  useful  with  his  notion  üiat  the  text  belongs  to  the  reader,  it  is  the  reader  who 
actualizes  the  text.  And  Jameson  would  agree  that  there  is  a  performative  aspect  to 
the  text  which  is  already  ideologically  overdetermined  that  the  reader  must  realize. 
I  was  moving  from  Western  culture,  to  a  historical  perspective,  to  the  prívate 
moment  of  reading.  1  think  we  all  have  to  agree  that  there  is  tiíat  moment  to  be  taken 


I 


200  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


into  account.  We  can  discuss  the  issues  of  audience  or  public,  but  we  read  in  prívate, 
The  act  of  interpretatíon,  in  these  three  áreas,  needed  to  be  scrutinized  for  Chicano 
narrative. 

In  Chicano  literary  theory ,  critics  were  using  the  word  "novel"  and  it  occurred  to  me 
that  we  couldn't  do  that  without  examining  the  notion  of  genre.  The  way  you  use 
that  word  "novel"  should  mean  something,  should  have  a  specific  meaning  to 
critics,  whereas  it  seemed  to  me  we  were  using  the  word  simply  as  a  label,  a  catch- 
allphrase. 

Of  course  some  of  it  has  to  do  with  marketing.  Publishers  need  labels  for  their 
products;  distributors  have  to  know  what  shelf  to  put  a  book  on;  and  any thing  longer 
than  say  a  hundred  pages,  if  it's  a  narrative,  is  called  a  novel.  But  for  critics,  it  was 
a  case  of  using  the  word  a  little  too  loosely,  and  not  looking  at  what  I' d  cali  the 
specific  narrative  strategies  used  by  writers.  And  it's  not  enough  to  supply  a  list  of 
technical  devices,  either.  Sure,  you  can  list  all  of  the  technical  elements  which  make 
a  novel,  which  make  a  romance,  but  to  investígate  the  way  a  writer  might  be  using 
these  elements  as  politicai  strategies,  as  interpretations  of  history,  as  revealing 
social  contradictions...  And  I  guess  there,  again,  Jameson's  work  is  significant.  I 
was  applying  some  of  his  work  on  the  "poütical  unconscious"  to  genre  not  just  as 
an  aspect  of  technique,  but  as  a  strategy  with  ideological  and  politicai  implications. 

A:  I  think  that  by  obliging  us  to  go  back  and  rethink  these  accepted  categories, 
you're  opening  up  a  very  interesting  territory.  It  brings  to  mind  the  essay  you 
wrote  on  Rudy  Anaya's  Bless  Me  Ultima,  in  which  you  take  the  posítion  that 
this  text  is  a  romance,  not  a  novel.  I  would  have  to  agree  with  you  that  this  term 
**nover'  has  been  thrown  around  rather  loosely,  that  it  hasn't  been  defíned  as 
precisely  as  it  could  be,  that  it's  a  problematic  term...  And  especially  when 
applied  to  Chicano  iíterature,  which  by  its  nature  seems  to  resist  these 
classifícations.  In  a  sense,  our  entire  criticai  apparatus  has  arisen  in  response 
to  a  fixed  idea  of  what  constitutes  a  novel,  and  this  may  be  a  primary  stumbling 
block.  There  are  people  who  claim  we  have  no  Chicano  novéis,  that  their 
fragmented  form  more  closely  approaches  that  of  the  literary  sketch,  or  other 
early  narrative  forms. 

H:  It  is  a  very  difficult  issue,  and  it's  a  problem  of  applying  the  notion  of  genre  to 
Chicano  literature,  which  is,  after  all,  a  very  specific  literature.  It's  not  "Western" 
literature  in  the  conventional  sense,  yet  it  has  grown  both  from  within  the  tradition 
of  Western  literature,  and  in  response  to  pressures  from  the  periphery  of  Western 
culture.  If  you  think  in  terms  of  where  we're  educated,  the  universities  we  attend, 
the  institutional  framework  which  transmits  a  European,  in  some  cases  a  very 
British  tradition,  and  then  you  examine  the  cultural  bonds  with  Mexican  or  Latin 
American  tradition — this  dual  formation,  First  World  and  Third  World,  is  going  to 
come  through  in  the  work  of  our  writers.  A  Chicano  writer  has  a  certain  social 
formation  that  may  run  counter  to  the  "Western"  tradition  at  the  same  time  that  he 


Mester,  VoL  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &VoL  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  201 


or  she  has  an  ideológica!  fonnatíon  that  is  Westem.  It's  there,  we  can't  deny  either 
aspecL..  We're  brought  up  in  this  country,  we're  trained  in  this  country... 
What  Fm  trying  to  grapple  with  is  the  questíon,  wliat  to  do  with  writers  who  are 
somehow  different  from  the  mainstream  tradition  of  Westem  culture  or  Westem 
aesthetics...  To  ask  myself  how  they  are  using  these  traditional  Westem  fomis,  how 
are  they  changing  or  modifying  them  to  produce  something  different?  No  writer 
simply  repeats  tradition;  it's  going  to  be  changed  to  fit  the  needs  of  the  particular 
writer.  When  I  read  Chicano  narraüve,  Fm  very  much  aware  of  these  two  aspects, 
that  yes,  Fm  reading  Rolando  Hinojosa,  Fm  reading  Sandra  Cisneros,  and  they  may 
be  coming  from  a  very  Chicano  perspective,  but  at  the  same  time  they '  re  very  much 
influenced  by  the  institutions  of  the  United  States. 

A:  I  think  we  can  see  the  same  thing  happening  on  a  more  global  levei,  between 
developed  and  underdeveloped  nations.  You  have  certain  Uterary  forms  that 
have  arisen  in  a  context  of  advanced  capitallsm,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  U.S.  and 
Europe,  and  then  you  see  some  first  world  forms  being  reproduced  in  depen- 
dent  countries,  Latin  American,  for  example.  But  the  form  will  never  be  an 
exact  replication  of  the  original  mold — it  will  be  modiñed  by  the  cultural  and 
social  circumstances  of  the  writer  who  uses  it,  and  who  b*ansfornis  it. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  same  process  must  be  at  work  in  the  criticai  response 
of  this  literature.  You  are  part  of  an  alternatíve  circle  of  critics  who  have  been 
shaped  by  the  mainstream  criticai  tradition  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  are 
responding  to  the  tradition,  modifying  ít  in  terms  of  your  own  perspective  as 
a  Chicano,  as  someone  emerging  from  a  specifíc  set  of  social  and  cultural 
circumstances. 

I  think  we  need  to  ask  what  happens  when  we  take  a  criticai  apparatus  that  has 
developed  from  within  a  particular  cultural  context  and  apply  that  apparatus 
to  a  text  that  has  emerged  from  a  somewhat  different  cultural  and  historical 
perspective.  To  what  degree  does  the  text  ítself  shape  or  contribute  to  shaping 
its  criticai  response,  the  criticai  perspective  adopted,  under  the  impact  of  the 
cultural  circumstances  implicated  within  the  text?  These  questions  have  been 
raised  elsewhere,  and  while  there  are  no  definite  answers  now,  they  will  be 
important  in  the  consideration  of  our  criticai  history. 

H:  I  would  agree  with  that,  there  are  no  easy  answers.  Let  me  begin  in  a  very 
simplistic  fashion.  Much  of  our  early  normative  criticism,  and  here  Fm  most 
familiar  with  narrative,  did  not  allow  for  any  deviation  in  form  even  though  this  was 
due  to  different  cultural  or  historical  perspectives.  Fm  thinking  of  negative 
criticism  leveled  against  writers  because  their  works  did  not  conform  to  the 
strategies  of  the  novel  or  literary  realism.  The  novel  was  invoked  because  of  its 
central  place  as  an  indication  of  advanced  cultural  development  Critics  who  claim 
that  there  are  no  Chicano  novéis  do  not  concern  me.  In  this  context,  books  by  Tomás 
Rivera,  Rolando  Hinojosa,  Sandra  Cisneros  and  Oscar  Zeta  Acosta  are  exemplary 


202  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


of  these  problems  of  interpretation.  Fragmentation  and  digression  need  not  be 
negative  characteristics. 

Fm  also  the  first  to  admit  that  critics  bring  their  own  ideological  baggage  to  their 
role  as  readers.  However,  I  have  tried  to  write  criticism  from  the  particular 
ideologies  (aesthetics)  operative  within  the  text.  I  have  also  begun  to  reassess  the 
usefiílness  of  the  politicai  unconscious  to  all  Chicano  narratives.  Bless  Me,  Ultima 
in  which  the  social  and  historical  contradictions  of  gender,  class  and  race  are  driven 
underground  is  a  text  that  lends  itself  to  a  psychoanalytic  interpretive  model.  This 
view  does  not  do  justice  to  Y  no  se  lo  tragó  la  tierra  which  for  me  is  a  criticai 
examination  of  what  we  might  term  a  Third  World  Mexican-mestizo  peasant  culture 
during  a  period  of  increasing  exploitation  and  agricultural  production  in  southem 
Texas. 

What  really  froubles  me,  however,  is  that  this  literature  will  be  appropriated  by  non- 
Chicano  or  mainstream  critics  who  will  publish  in  widely  circulating  joumals 
without  any  references  to  the  criticai  debates  within  Chicano  criticism  and  without 
any  interest  in  the  politicai  dimensions  of  Chicano  üterature.  This  is  no  w  happening 
in  some  well-known  joumals.  In  the  end,  is  it  a  matter  of  a  criticai  ^paratus  or  the 
interests  being  served?  The  career  of  Guillermo  Gómez-Peña  is  a  good  example. 
He  is  someone  from  México  City  who  moves  to  Tijuana  and  appropriates  from 
Chicano  and  northem  Mexican  culture  the  criticai  vocabulary  on  borders  without 
any  real  attention  to  the  analysis  of  history,  race  and  class.  His  performance  art 
dwells  on  spectacle  and  stereotypes  that  are  easUy  consumed  by  the  Anglo- 
American  media.  He  receives  the  MacArthur  Foundation  Prize  from  the  United 
States  and  leaves  Tijuana  for  New  York  City.  So  much  for  the  border! 

A:  Returning  then  to  your  essay  on  Biess  Me  Ultima,  publíshed  in  Crítica...  In 
this  piece  you  also  discuss  the  relationship  between  literary  form  and  ideology. 
You  refer  to  this  novel  as  **a  Chicano  romance  of  the  Southwest,"  and  suggest 
that  the  form  in  which  Anaya  chose  to  write  it — the  romance — is  actually  a 
response  to  certain  social  and  historical  conditions  depícted  in  the  text.  I 
wonder  if  you  could  elabórate  on  this  concept? 

H:  Yes.  But  let  me  begin  by  stating  that  this  article  on  Anaya  was  an  intervention 
in  a  debate  over  the  appropriateness  of  the  concept  of  Latin  American  magic  realism 
for  Bless  Me,  Ultima.  It  seemed  to  me  that  this  concept,  which  has  had  its  own 
problematic  existence  within  Latin  American  criticism,  had  been  lifted  too  easily 
from  its  own  criticai  context  and  forced  upon  this  Chicano  literary  text  It  was  more 
usefiíl  to  sitúate  Anaya' s  full  symbolic  landscapes  and  scenic  registers,  even  the 
denial  of  the  forces  of  history,  within  an  older  Romanticism  and  an  Anglo- American 
or  British  modemist  üterary  tradition.  For  example,  the  confrontation  between 
subject  and  object,  really  the  contemplation  and  absorption  of  the  subject  by  the 
forces  of  an  animistic  nature  in  Bless  Me,  Ultima  occur  in  a  radically  different 
context  in  One  Hundred  Years  ofSolitude.  While  there  are  moments  of  epiphany  in 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  203 


Garcia  Márquez,  he  is  such  an  intelligent  writer  that  he  did  not  resort  to  the  older 
subjectívism  of  Romanticism.  Is  there  an  artist-hero,  a  man  of  sympathy  and  feeling 
like  Antonio  Juan  Márez  y  Luna  in  Macondo  or  Cómala  for  that  matter?  Tm  not 
denying  that  links  exist  between  Chicano  and  Latin  American  literature  especially 
in  the  use  of  myth;  however,  we  must  draw  distinctions. 
My  article  also  lacked  any  real  grounding  in  the  literature  of  New  México  and  the 
West,  but  now  I  am  pleased  that  Genaro  Padilla' s  work  on  early  autobiographical 
texts  by  New  Mexican  Hispanas  has  uncovered  a  romance  tradition  imported  by 
Eastemers,  Anglos,  and  superimposed  upon  native  New  Mexican  traditions. 
Following  on  the  work  of  Padilla,  I  have  traced  this  discourse  to  European 
romanticism  exported  in  mid-nineteenth  century  to  New  England  and  then  super- 
imposed by  eastemer  Charles  F.  Lummis  on  conquered  Mexican  territory  in  the 
1890s.  As  Lunraiis  boasted  in  1925,  he  was  the  first  to  identify  Arizona,  New 
México,  Texas  and  parts  of  California,  Colorado  and  Utah  as  the  Southwest  or  more 
specifically  the  Spanish  Southwest  A  whole  set  of  literary,  folkloric  and  cultural 
practices  were  invented  in  the  early  twentieth  century  which  survive  to  this  day  in 
the  popular  imagination  and  which  are  mariced  by  the  priority  of  the  Spanish  element 
over  Native  American  and  Mexican/Chicano  traditions. 

Now  to  answer  your  question,  Anaya  specifically  located  his  narrative  in  the 
summer  of  1945  when  New  México  was  undergoing  extreme  social  and  economic 
changes.  The  war  and  the  accompanying  industries  and  new  large  scale  farming  had 
displaced  many  young  males  from  traditional  life  styles  in  New  Mexican  villages. 
Sociologist  Charles  P.  Loomis  has  documented  this  period  of  population  loss.  Of 
course,  the  detonation  of  the  first  atomic  bomb  at  Point  Trinity  twenty-five  miles 
from  Carrizozo,  New  México,  was  also  to  have  its  consequences  within  the  área. 
Anaya  was  aware  of  these  events  because  he  refers  to  them  as  having  a  tragic 
influence  on  the  Márez  family.  However,  his  interpretation  is  cloaked  in  myth,  in 
the  romance  of  Spanish  settlement  and  Native  American  traditions.  It'  s  just  as  signs 
proclaim  upon  entering  New  México,  "Welcome  to  the  Land  of  Enchantment." 
Anaya  constructs  a  mythical  landscape  where  events  are  govemed  by  cyclical 
pattems,  magic,  curse  and  prophecy.  The  outcome  of  these  strategies  is  the 
polarization  of  good  and  evil.  The  real  causes  of  events  are  largely  ignored  and  no 
imaginative  analysis  of  the  contradictions  of  gender,  race  and  class  is  undertaken. 
In  this  relationship  between  history  and  myth,  this  romance  bears  no  resemblance 
to  Latin  American  magic  realism. 

Also,  in  romance,  as  opposed  to  the  novel  form,  we  see  acontrasting  view  of  history. 
In  the  novel,  events  appear  to  rise  out  of  the  complex  and  often  ambiguous  acts  of 
individuais,  whereas  in  romance,  the  emphasis  shifts:  history,  at  least  the  writer  like 
Rudolfo  Anaya  wants  to  see  history,  is  a  rather  simplified  contest  between  good  and 
evil  forces.  There  is  no  ambiguity  either:  the  hero  is  always  solidly  on  the  side  of  the 
good  forces.  That  seemed  to  be  the  view  of  historical  development  found  in  Bless 
Me,  Ultima.  From  the  very  beginning,  there's  no  doubt  about  "character"...  the 
symbolism  of  Antonio  Márez  y  Luna  is  clear  from  the  beginning,  and  every  thing  is 


204  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


more  or  less  prefigured.  Here,  my  own  woiic,  Conciencia  y  lenguaje  en  la  novela 
{Self and  Language  in  the  Novel),  on  the  representatíon  of  the  psychological  subject 
as  it  emerges  along  with  individualism  and  literary  realism,  has  been  helpful  in 
drawing  distinctions  between  the  novel  and  other  narrative  fonns  such  as  romance 
and  realismo  mágico  (magic  realism)  in  which  "characters"  or  actants  are  fluid  and 
not  restrained  by  the  conventions  of  realism. 

A:  I  think  what  you^re  saying  here,  about  the  ideological  preconditíons 
necessary  for  this  particular  literary  form  is  very  important,  particularly 
insofar  as  it  contributes  to  the  oi^oing  debate  on  Chicano  narrative.  But  it 
seems  to  me  that  you  could  take  it  a  lot  further,  that  maybe  this  form  is 
delimited  and  determined  by  a  social  ideology,  and  in  this  case,  one  we've  come 
to  cali  ^^cultural  nationaltsm.''  In  other  words,  Pm  suggesting  that  ideology 
does  not  just  emanate  from  the  use  of  certain  textual  forms...  And  Pm  a  little 
bothered  by  the  fact  that,  in  not  taking  your  discussion  beyond  what  youWe 
defined  as  the  ideology  of  form,  you  more  or  less  downplay  Anaya's  tendency, 
in  that  work,  to  mythologize  the  past,  to  mysticize  it  even.  This  kind  of  harking 
back  to  some  glorious  precolonial  past  that  you  find  echoed  in  his  book — those 
attitudes  had  their  place  within  the  context  of  the  Chicano  Movement,  but  in 
the  present  time,  it  seems  maybe  overly  fatalistic — not  really  in  touch  with  the 
realities  of  social  change  as  we  currently  perceive  them. 
Wouldn^t  you  agree  that  from  a  historical-materialist  or  *^arxisf '  perspec- 
tive, any way,  it*s  important  to  go  beyond  the  ideology  of  form,  beyond  the 
preconditions  in  a  text,  beyond  formúlale  manifestations,  to  evalúate  the  types 
of  social  ¡deologies  that  are  permeating  our  literature...perhaps  even  paving 
the  way  for  the  adoption  of  certain  forms  over  others,  or  at  least  creating  a 
symbolic  fíeld  for  the  expression  of  various  types  of  ideological  formations  be 
they  authorial,  collectíve,  or  formal? 

H:  Yes,  you're  right,  the  symbolism  of  Antonio  Márez  y  Luna  is  very  much  related 
to  a  conservative  strain  of  cultural  nationalism,  taking  the  history  of  New  México 
and  making  it  into  some  sort  of  mythic  construct.  All  tums  out  to  be  a  celebration 
of  the  pasL  This  is  the  romantic  view  of  history  that  Genaro  Padilla  has  traced  back 
to  an  Anglo  ideological  hegemony  in  New  México.  But  obviously  at  the  moment 
when  that  book  came  out,  there  was  a  strong  movement  toward  myth  and  mystifi- 
cation — that  part  of  the  Chicano  Movement  that  was  caught  up  with  books  like 
Castañeda' s  The  Teachings  ofDon  Juan.  I  tend  to  think  of  Anaya  as  consciously 
transforming  his  own  well-known  New  Mexican  tradition — Charles  F.  Lunmiis, 
upper-class  Hispanas  like  Cleofas  Martínez  Jaramillo,  and  Hispanist  Aurelio  M. 
Espinosa — into  a  Chicano  tradition  with  similar  tendencies.  After  Bless  Me,  Ultima 
Anaya  writes  Heart  ofAztlan  using  a  term  popularized  during  the  height  of  Chicano 
cultural  nationalism,  a  term,  by  the  way,  that  was  used  much  earlier  by  Anglos  in 
New  México. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  <ScVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  205 


At  the  1987  NACS  meeting  in  Salt  Lake  City,  I  heard  some  interesting  papers  on 
Octavio  Romano  and  his  concept  of  a  cultural  core,  valúes  that  persist  over  time.  The 
books  that  received  the  Quinto  Sol  award  were  selected  for  specific  reasons.  There 
is  much  work  to  de  done  in  this  área  also. 

A:  Returning  again  to  the  question  of  genres  in  Chicano  Literature,  a  topic 
which  is  interesting  indeed!  Now  we  ali  know  that  the  novel  is  a  bourgeois  forni, 
and  that  obviously.  Chícanos,  as  a  people,  have  had  very  little  access  to  this 
forni,  or  to  the  social  strata  in  which  it's  produced.  Would  you  agree  that  some 
of  the  problems  involved  in  the  classification  of  Chicano  literary  forms  can  be 
traced  to  the  social,  economic,  and  cultural  circumstances  of  our  writers,  and 
the  impact  which  these  circumstances  have  exerted  on  their  literary  creation? 

H:  Yes,  of  course.  The  social  circumstances  are  such  that  the  majority  of  writers  and 
critics — ^and  I  can  speak  from  my  own  personal  experience — most  of  our  writers 
come  from  working-class  backgrounds.  And  yet  their  training  has  come  from  within 
the  institutions  of  the  United  States.  We  come  from  acertain  class,  but  we  participate 
in  the  activities,  we  pursue  the  interests  of  another  class,  and  it  becomes  a  question 
of  where  your  allegiance  will  be,  with  which  class.  As  you  suggest,  it's  a  situation 
of  working-class  writers  grappling  with  a  bourgeois  form...I  think  these  questions 
of  self-identity  weren't  really  problems  for  Chicanos  until  recently,  when  this 
contradiction  between  our  working-class  origins  and  our  experiences  as  critics, 
teachers  and  writers  came  about  and  began  to  influence  the  literature  and  criticism. 
That'  s  partly  what  makes  it  Chicano  literature,  our  being  forced  to  in vent  forms  that 
are  very  much  our  own. 

And  one  aspect  of  form  that  is  our  own  is  the  oral  one;  I  believe  that  Chicano  writers 
of  narrative  tend  to  employ  certain  oral  storytelling  techniques.  We're  trying  to 
convey  to  the  reader  the  sense  that  it'  s  notjust  the  individual  we're  concemed  about, 
it's  the  community.  In  some  sense  the  narrative  is  viewed  as  a  community  event — 
it  emerges  from  and  speaks  to  the  community  in  much  the  same  way  that  storytelling 
does. 

A:  In  recent  years.  Chicano  criticism  has  experienced  an  unprecedented 
growth  and  sophistication,  and  it  has  expanded  to  include  a  new  and  dynamic 
circle  of  critics.  Which  critics  have  most  influenced  you  in  terms  of  your 
approach  to  Chicano  literature,  and  your  theoretical  formation  as  a  critic? 

H:  Joseph  Sommers,  for  one — there' s  absolutely  no  doubt  about  that. 

A:  What  in  particular  caught  your  attention  about  his  approach? 

H:  His  seemed  the  most  significant  historical-materialist  approach  to  Chicano 
literature,  at  the  time  when  I  first  encountered  his  work. 


206  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


And  Ramón  Saldívar...  I  think  the  importance  of  Ramón  is  the  rigor  that  he  brings 
to  a  text.  I'm  probably  more  of  a  practical  reader  of  a  text  than  Ramón.  Also,  he  has 
a  way  of  using  English  that  I  don't  see  with  any  other  critic  of  Chicano  literature, 
or  anyone  else,  for  that  matter.  Others  have  made  this  point  about  Ramón — that  he 
brings  a  new  sense  of  the  use  of  language,  as  well  as  a  definite  criticai  rigor  to 
Chicano  literary  criticism.  There  are  many  others  from  whom  I  have  drawn 
examples.  I  already  mentioned  Genaro  Padilla.  Over  the  years,  Rosaura  Sánchez  has 
been  producing  great,  thorough  scholarship.  Norma  Alarcón  writes  honest,  probing 
feminist  scholarship.  I  admire  José  Limón' s  anecdotal  style.  José  Saldívar  is  quite 
adventurous  with  his  criticism.  And  of  course,  Américo  Paredes  still  amazes  me  for 
his  Creative  and  criticai  work  which  now  spans  almost  the  entire  twentieth  century. 
He  has  had  a  remarkable  career! 

A:  How  would  you  evalúate  the  initial  popular  criticism  that  was  comii^  out 
ín  the  beginning,  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago?  How  would  you  react  now,  in 
hindsight,  to  all  those  literary  manifestos? 

H:  I  have  to  say  that  at  all  times,  I  try  to  contextualize  or  historicize  what  I  read.  This 
is  in  no  way  saying  that  the  "popular"  criticism  was  not  good.  Given  the  moment 
it  was  written,  it  was  important.  You  have  to  begin  somewhere,  and  we  owe  a  great 
deal  to  all  those  critics  who  first  began  writing  on  Chicano  literature.  There'  s  no  way 
out  of  that. 

It  just  seems  that  now  we're  at  another  point  in  history,  and  we  are  bringing  new 
criticai  tools  to  bear  upon  our  reading  of  the  literary  text.  Though  I  will  admit  that 
r  ve  had  my  reservations  about  certain  critics  who  were  writing  say  in  the  early  and 
mid-seventies. 

A:  Would  you  care  to  express  those  reservations? 

H:  Well,  for  example,  the  historicist  criticism  of  Luis  Leal  and  Raymund  Paredes, 
the  kind  which,  in  my  opinión,  wants  to  see  the  history  of  Chicano  literature  as  an 
unbroken  evolutionary  Une  that  descends  from  the  Spanish  chronicles  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  century.  This,  of  course,  is  a  problem  of  literary  history, 
but  one  which  we  will  be  dealing  with  for  some  time  to  come,  especially  now  with 
the  accelerated  development  of  both  Chicano  literature  and  criticism.  The  Spanish 
chroniclers  are  Spaniards  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  However, 
something  happens  with  the  introducción  of  the  Anglo  element.  Recently,  I  have 
listened  to  some  very  interesting  papers  by  Rosaura  Sánchez,  Lauro  Flores  and 
Genaro  Padilla  that  have  dealt  with  specific  nineteenth-  and  early  twentieth-century 
texts  written  by  Mexican  Americans.  Until  this  work  is  done,  I  agree  with  José 
Armas  that  we  can'  t  speak  of  aChicano  tradition  that  extends  centuries  into  the  past. 
I  do  not  want  to  give  you  the  impression  that  history  is  not  important  for  me.  In  my 
own  work  I  want  to  work  out  on  a  theoretical  level  the  still  evident  determinations. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  207 


the  mental  and  economic  structures  that  were  set  in  place  with  the  discovery  and 
conquest  of  the  Américas.  Awareness  of  these  determinations  was  certainly  part  of 
a  new  Chicano  subjectivity  in  the  sixties.  And  a  writer  as  smart  as  Richard 
Rodríguez  is  aware  of  this  although  he  tries  to  deny  it.  His  feelings  of  inferíoríty 
about  his  ethnicity  and  culture  are  proof  that  he  has  bought  into  a  racist  ideology. 
The  battles  waged  by  Europeans  and  "  Americans"  against  their  cultural  others  have 
been  repeated  often  and  are  ali  too  familiar  to  Chicanos.  Why  search  for  origins, 
when  the  past  is  aiready  present  with  us.  Of  course,  my  observations  pertain  to  a 
literate  tradition.  The  persistence  of  amestizo  culture  is  another  matter  which  will 
go  unquestioned. 

In  ali  fairness  to  Leal  and  Paredes,  in  the  seventies,  at  that  point,  it  seemed  you  had 
to  do  that,  you  had  to  verify,  "Yes,  we  do  have  a  tradition.  It'  s  Spanish,  Mexican  and 
English,  and  it  is  a  tradition."  I  have  written  about  this  with  reference  to  the 
relationship  between  Chicano  and  Mexican  literature,  in  a  review  of  Luis  Leal's 
work  Aztlán  y  México:  Perfiles  literarios  e  históricos.  Given  the  circumstances, 
without  a  readily  available  context  for  Chicano  literature,  the  logical  direction  to 
look  toward  for  some  starting  point  was  México.  Writers  and  critics  pursued  this 
course.  Fine,  you  have  Vasconcelos,  Paz  and  Fuentes.  That  was  fine  and  good 
because  we  didn't  have  much  else  in  terms  of  a  context  for  Chicano  literature.  But 
it  bears  repeating  that  Chicanos  are  not  Mexicans  even  though  some  Mexican 
intellectuals  are  beginning  to  reclaim  us.  Now  I  think  we've  reached  a  wider 
perspective,  we're  asking  "WhaV s  American  literature?  What  does  it  include? 
This  is  the  point  where  José  David  Saldívar  comes  into  the  debate,  where  his 
influence  on  my  own  work  becomes  very  important.  His  whole  rereading  of 
American  literature  in  terms  of  two  hemispheres,  borders  and  diásporas,  that 
interact  with  each  other  proposes  that  we  should  not  look  at  American  Uterature  as 
the  national  literature  of  a  certain  group  that  has  appropriated  the  right  to  speak  for 
everyone;  rather  we  have  to  see  it  as  much  larger  and  more  culturally  diverse.  That'  s 
the  contribution  of  José's  The  Dialectics  ofOur  America  has  made  to  my  thinking 
about  Chicano  literature,  seeing  it  in  terms  of  its  place  within  the  literatures  of  the 
Américas. 

A:  How  do  you  feel  about  the  professionalization  of  Chicano  criticism...  the 
potentially  negative  effects  of  this  process  in  terms  of  its  narrowing  of  the 
audience  that  our  criticism  reaches?  At  one  time,  it  was  easy  for  someone  in 
sociology  or  politicai  science  to  pick  up  a  review  of  a  Chicano  text  and  get 
something  out  of  it,  without  knowing  a  whole  lot  about  even  literature,  let  alone 
various  modes  of  phiiosophical  thought.  But  now  we  are  moving  towards  a 
more  specialized  critica!  vocabulary.  We  are  speaking  in  a  diffícult  terminol- 
ogy  that  isn't  very  accessible  even  to  other  Chicano  intellectuals.  Which  means 
it's  even  further  removed  from  the  general  public. 

H:  Yes.  But  Tm  also  wondering  just  how  large  was  that  original  public...  We  were 


208  Interview  with  Héctor  Calderón 


talking  a  moment  ago  about  popular  critics.  Were  they  "popular"  in  the  sense  that 
they  reached  a  large  audience?  I  guess  I  have  my  doubts  as  to  how  much  Chicano 
literary  criticism,  popular  or  otherwise,  has  reached  the  average  Chicano  reader,  if 
there  even  is  such  a  thing  as  the  average  Chicano  reader.  I  also  have  the  feeling  that 
our  literary  criticism  is  largely  ignored  by  Chícanos  in  other  disciplines. 

A:  So  you  donH  foresee  any  possible  negative  effects  in  this  increasing  tendency 
toward  specialízation  in  our  literary  criticism? 

H:  Let's  just  say  that  at  this  point  in  my  career  I'm  trying  to  look  at  the  beginning 
of  Chicano  narrative  and  examine  its  existence  from  the  late  nineteenth  century  to 
the  present.  It's  a  limited  project,  but  for  me,  it's  an  important  one.  I  try  in  my  own 
work  to  deal  with  the  material  in  a  way  that's  both  theoretically  informed  yet 
accessible  to  a  wide  readership.  But  I  know  that  it's  only  partially  accessible  to  the 
majority  of  Mexican  Americans  in  the  United  States.  I  hope,  however,  to  reach  a 
wider  group  within  the  academy.  I  do  think  it's  important  to  reach  non-Chicano 
readers;  in  fact,  I  think  we  should  be  reaching  as  many  audiences  as  possible,  and 
if  that  means  translating  into  Spanish  and  other  languages,  fine.  No  need  to  limit 
oneself.  José  Saldívar  and  I  tried  to  reach  a  wide  an  audience  as  possible  with 
Criticism  in  the  Borderlands.  From  the  reviews  and  citations  that  we  have  received 
of  this  coUection,  it  has  added  to  the  criticai  debates  on  borders,  diásporas, 
postmodemism,  etc.,  in  the  fields  of  Latin  American  Studies,  American  Literature, 
Comparative  Literature  and  Anthropology  in  the  United  States,  Europe  and  Canada. 
You  know  in  some  quarters  Chicano  writers  are  seen  as  representatives  of  the 
community  while  critics  are  professionals  far  removed  from  "the  people."  Of 
course,  this  is  a  false  problem  because,  on  one  hand,  most  writers  have  academic 
degrees  and,  on  the  other,  the  Chicano  readership  exists  mainly  within  the  academy. 
Should  we  think  of  Chicano  üterature  as  a  closed  circuit  involving  only  writers  and 
critics?  I  don't  think  so.  As  professors,  we  have  an  inunediate  constituency; 
students  are  also  readers.  I  take  my  pedagogical  duties  very  seriously  and  try  to 
inform  my  students  of  the  active  roles  that  they  should  be  playing  both  within  their 
institutions  of  higher  leaming  and  after  graduation  as  professionals  within  their 
communities. 

Professionalization  for  both  writers  and  critics  is  bound  to  happen,  specialization  is 
going  to  happen.  In  fact,  it  is  already  happening.. .  In  a  way  it'  s  good  in  the  sense  that 
there  will  be  more  critics  who  will  be  writing  on  Chicano  literature  and  culture  with 
even  greater  rigor  and  more  solid  theoretical  grounding.  I  have  met  so  many  critics 
and  writers  who  are  doing  such  interesting  work.  Think  of  the  important  work  being 
done  by  you,  Rosaura  Sánchez,  José  and  Ramón  Saldívar,  Genaro  Padilla,  Erlinda 
Gonzales-Berry,  Norma  Alarcón,  Cherríe  Moraga  and  Gloria  Anzaldúa  not  to 
mention  the  Mexican  and  European  scholars.  This  specialization  will  lead  us,  as  you 
have  stated  elsewhere,  Angie,  toward  an  age  of  Chicano  literary  criticism. 
Hopef  uUy ,  as  a  result  of  this  collective  process  and  the  debates  it  generates  our  woik 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  áVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  209 


will  be  taken  seriously  by  our  colleagues,  including  Chicanas  and  Chícanos  in  other 
disciplines,  and,  ultímately,  the  interests  of  our  community  will  be  served. 


Angie  Chabram  Demersesian 
University  of  Califontía,  Davis 


NOTES 

^Some  of  the  ideas  put  forth  in  the  introduction  are  elaborated  in  this  as  yet  unpublished 
manuscript  entitled  "Conversations  with  Chicana/o  Critics.  "Héctor  Calderón's  interview 
was  first  conducted  in  May  1987  while  he  was  at  the  Stanford  Humanities  Center  on  leave 
from  Yale  University;  the  interview  has  been  revised  and  updated  for  this  issue  of  Mester. 
^Criticism  in  the  Bordericmds:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideology.  Ed. 
Héctor  Calderón  and  José  David  Saldívar.  Durham:  Duke  University  Press,  1991. 
^See  book  description  and  comments  on  jacket  by  Fredric  Jameson,  Houston  A.  Baker,  Jr., 
Charles  Tatum,  Juan  Bruce  No  voa  and  Hanny  Berkeknans.  The  book  fonns  part  of  the  Post- 
Contemporary  Interventions  Series  edited  by  Stanley  Fish  and  Fredric  Jameson. 
^Calderón  and  Saldívar  paraphrasing  Rolando  Hinojosa  in  his  Foreword  to  the  anthology. 
^Gradúate  students  included  Alurista,  Alda  Blanco,  Rafael  Chabrán,  Mónica  Espinosa, 
Lauro  Flores,  Rosa  Linda  Fregoso,  Luz  Garzón,  Yolanda  Guerrero,  Pedro  Gutiérrez,  Sylvia 
Lizáiraga,  Clara  Lomas,  Lupe  López,  Mariana  Marín,  Rubén  Medina,  José  Monleón,  Beatriz 
Pita,  Rita  Sánchez,  Gina  Valdês  and  Cecilia  Ubilla. 
"Tzvetan  Todorov.  "A  Dialogical  Criticism."  Raritan  4.1  (1984):64-75. 
'Those  scholars  in  attendance  included  Norma  Alarcón,  Juan  Bruce  Novoa,  Norma  Cantú, 
Lauro  Flores,  María  Herrera-Sobek,  Francisco  Jiménez,  Luis  Leal,  José  Limón,  Ellen 
McCraken,  Teresa  McKenna,  Elizabeth  Ordóñez,  Genaro  Padilla,  Alvina  Quintana,  Juan 
Rodríguez,  Renato  Rosaldo,  Ramón  Saldívar,  Rosaura  Sánchez  and  Tomás  Ybarra-Frausto 
as  well  as  members  of  the  wider  Stanford  scholarly  community. 


Literary  Joumal  of  the  Gradúate  Students  of  the 

DEPARTMENT  OF  SPANISH  AND  PORTUGUESE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

Cali  for  papers! 

Specíal  Issue  Vol.  24.1 

Brazilían/Portuguese 
Líterature  and  Linguístícs 


by  February  15, 1995 

To  be  considered  for  publication  manuscripts  should  follow  the  MLA  style  sheet. 
The  original  and  three  copies  are  required  for  ali  submissions.  Please  include  a 
cover  letter  with  the  name  and  address  of  the  author;  please  do  not  write  name  on 
manuscripts.  Ali  submissions  should  be  sent  to  : 


Mester 

Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 

405  Hilgard  Ave. 

Los  Angeles,  Ca.  90024. 


Please  include  a  self-addressed  stamped  envelope  if  you  wish  to  receive  your 
manuscript  after  submission. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  KSpring,  1994)  21 1 


Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico: 
español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano* 


Introducción 

El  análisis  de  la  forma  en  que  los  hablantes  de  una  lengua  adoptan  las  palabras 
de  otra  ha  planteado  dos  problemas  que  surgen  sobre  todo  en  el  ámbito  del  estudio 
del  léxico  de  los  bilingües  por  medio  de  cintas  magnetofónicas: 

a.  Separar  los  préstamos  léxicos  de  los  ejemplos  de  alternancia 
de  lenguas  intraoracional  (code-mixing  o  codeswitching).^ 

b.  Reunir  información  completa  sobre  los  diferentes  campos 
semánticos  que  conforman  el  léxico  de  una  lengua. 

A  fin  de  precisar  hasta  qué  punto  estos  problemas  están  relacionados  con  los 
métodos  de  colección  de  materiales,  en  este  trabajo  sugiero  una  alternativa 
metodológica  al  uso  de  cintas  grabadas.  Propongo  recoger  los  materiales  léxicos  por 
medio  del  uso  de  un  cuestionario  léxico,  complementado  con  preguntas  de 
aceptabilidad.  Aquí  pongo  a  prueba  esta  alternativa  metodológica  en  el  análisis  de 
la  introducción  de  préstamos  del  inglés  en  el  léxico  de  hablantes  bilingües  de  inglés- 
español  y  monolingües  hispanohablantes. 

En  la  primera  parte  de  esta  investigación  trato  de  los  préstamos  y  la  alternancia 
de  códigos;  en  la  segunda  me  refiero  a  la  colección  de  datos  de  los  distintos  campos 
semánticos  de  una  lengua;  en  la  tercera  presento  la  metodología  empleada  en  este 
trabajo;  de  la  cuarta  a  la  séptima  analizo  los  préstamos  momentáneos,  los  permanentes 
y  las  traducciones  literales  entre  chícanos  y  mexicanos;  en  la  octava  hago  un 
resumen  y  doy  las  conclusiones. 

1.  Los  préstamos  momentáneos  y  la  alternancia  de  lenguas 

Cuando  una  palabra  de  una  lengua  se  halla  incorporada  sintácticamente  en  una 
oración  de  otra  lengua,  puede  clasificarse  como  un  caso  de  préstamo  momentáneo 
o  como  un  ejemplo  de  alternancia  intraoracional  de  lenguas.  Los  préstamos 
momentáneos  se  introducen  irregularmente  y  no  es  preciso  que  estén  integrados  ni 
morfológica  ni  fonéticamente,  aunque  pueden  estarlo.  A  veces  se  incorporan  al 
vocabulario  original  y  se  vuelven  préstamos  permanentes^.  La  alternancia  de 
lenguas  es  el  uso  de  dos  lenguas  en  el  discurso  de  hablantes  bilingües.  Hay  varios 
tipos  de  alternancia  de  lenguas.  La  alternancia  intraoracional  de  lenguas  es  uno  de 


212  Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


ellos.  Ocurre  con  elementos  oracionales,  tales  como  frases  o  palabras. 

A  continuación  ilustro  con  ejemplos  de  lengua  hablada  algunos  casos  difíciles 
de  clasificar.  Las  muestras  proceden  de  cintas  de  habla  espontánea,  grabadas  a 
informantes  bilingües  proficientes  cultos  de  Los  Angeles.  Todos  han  asistido  a  la 
universidad  y  entienden,  leen,  hablan  y  escriben  el  inglés  y  el  español. 

"Hay  muchos  condominiums  en  Palm  Springs,  en  Florida,  que  son  condo  s 
pero  tienen  un,  una  nurse  in  the  first  floor";  "Ahí  van  y  hacen  barbecues  los 
domingos";  "No  sé  cómo,  pero  me  fui  al  lodge";  "New  York  tiene  un  stigma". 

En  las  muestras  no  resulta  claro  si  las  palabras  en  cursiva  son  préstamos 
momentáneos  o  casos  de  alternancia  de  lenguas,  dado  que  los  hablantes  utilizan 
ambas  estrategias  en  el  discurso,  y  la  definición  de  uno  y  otra  no  los  distingue. 
Algunos  de  los  ejemplos  de  la  muestra  resultan  particularmente  complejos  de 
clasificar.  Las  voces  condominium,  condos  y  stigma  tienen  los  equivalentes  del 
español  condominio  y  estigma.  Estos  vocablos  significan  lo  mismo  en  el  inglés  y  en 
el  español.  Además,  en  el  inglés  son  préstamos  del  latín.  El  antillanismo  barbecue, 
es  préstamo  en  ambas  lenguas,  pero  tiene  diferente  significado  en  una  y  otra. 
Determinar  el  tipo  de  interferencia  de  una  lengua  sobre  la  otra  resulta  smnamente 
intrincado  en  estos  casos. 

Una  forma  más  segura  de  evitar  todos  estos  problemas  es  encontrar  un  contexto 
en  el  cual  los  hablantes  eviten  la  alternancia  de  lenguas.  De  esta  manera,  cuando 
seleccionen  el  español,  las  palabras  del  inglés  que  utilicen  se  podrán  catalogar  como 
préstamos  y  viceversa. 

2.  Los  campos  semánticos  de  una  lengua 

En  1970  Mackey  advirtió  que  el  análisis  del  léxico  en  cintas  magnetofónicas 
de  lengua  espontánea  no  permite  recopilar  toda  la  información  de  los  distintos 
campos  semánticos  que  constituyen  el  léxico  de  una  lengua.  Ello  se  debe  a  que 
resulta  imposible  predecir  la  selección  léxica  de  los  hablantes.  Por  ello,  la  única 
forma  de  obtener  datos  completos  de  los  campos  semánticos  es  preguntando 
cuestiones  de  léxico  a  los  informantes  de  la  lengua  o  dialecto  objeto  de  estudio.  La 
colección  de  palabras  aisladas  resulta  metodológicamente  adecuada,  pues  los 
hablantes  adquieren  cada  vocablo  junto  con  sus  propiedades  de  selección  semántica 
y  sintáctica.  Es  decir,  cuando  un  hablante  aprende  la  palabra  condominio  sabe  su 
significado  y  el  contexto  gramatical  en  el  que  puede  incorporarla, 

3.  Metodología  empleada  en  este  trabajo 

En  apartados  anteriores  se  mostraron  los  problemas  que  plantea  el  estudio  del 
léxico  en  entrevistas  libres.  Por  ello,  en  este  urbajo  he  optado  por  estudiar  los 
préstamos  del  inglés  al  español  de  Los  Angeles  utilizando  una  metodología  distinta. 
Dado  que  hay  contextos  en  los  que  los  hablantes  bilingües  inhiben  la  alternancia  de 
lenguas,  en  esta  investigación  se  ha  utiüzado  uno  de  estos  contextos  para  recoger 
información  léxica.  De  esta  manera  excluyo  la  yuxtaposición  de  lenguas.  El  uso  de 
un  cuestionario  en  español,  cuyas  entradas  se  preguntaron  también  en  español. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  KSpring,  1994) 


213 


motivó  que  los  25  hablantes  bilingües  entrevistados  prescindieran  de  la  alternancia 
de  lenguas.  Por  lo  tanto,  las  palabras  inglesas  seleccionadas  por  ellos  pueden 
considerarse  exclusivamente  ejemplos  de  interferencia  del  inglés  al  español.  Las 
respuestas  obtenidas  en  las  encuestas  de  los  bilingües  se  compararon  con  respuestas 
equivalentes  dadas  por  25  hablantes  monolingües  mexicanos,  publicadas  en  El 
léxico  del  habla  culta  de  México. 

Los  préstamos  del  inglés  no  registrados  en  los  diccionarios  se  preguntaron  a 
veinte  informantes,  diez  chícanos  y  diez  mexicanos,  en  un  cuestionario  adicional. 

3.1  El  cuestionario  y  las  preguntas 

El  cuestionario  consta  de  764  preguntas.  Abarca  los  campos  semánticos  del 
cuerpo  humano  (330  preguntas)  y  del  vestido  (434  preguntas).  Este  cuestionario 
forma  parte  de  otro  más  amplio,  el  Cuestionario  para  el  estudio  coordinado  de  la 
normalingaísticacultadeIberoaméricaydelaPenínsulaIbérica(l973),QlàboTa.áo 
por  los  miembros  de  la  subcomisión  ejecutiva  del  PILEI,  el  cual  contiene  de  4,452 
preguntas  divididas  por  campos  semánticos. 

A  fin  de  mostrar  el  tipo  de  cuestionario  usado,  en  el  cuadro  1  incluyo  un  ejemplo 
de  cuatro  preguntas  elegidas  al  azar,  dos  de  cada  campo,  con  las  respuestas  de  los 
informantes  monolingües  y  bilingües: 

EL  CUERPO  HUMANO 


Bilingües 


Monolingües 


1.  EL  ESQUELETO 

esqueleto  (22) 

esqueleto  (25) 
1-25 

esque  letón  (1) 

calaça  (1) 

osamenta  (1) 

5.  EL  MAXILAR 
SUPERIOR 

mandíbula  superior  (11) 

maxilar  superior(23) 
1-6,7-16,18,20,21-25 

maxüar  superior  (6) 

mandíbula  superior(l) 
19 

quijada  (6) 

quijada  (1) 

17 

bocado  (1) 

mandíbula  saliente  (1) 

214 


Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


EL  VESTIDO 
Bilingües 


Monolingües 


637.  EL  TRAJE 

traje  (24) 

traje  (25) 

conjunto  (1) 

1 

882.  ALIANZA 
(anillo  de  boda) 

anillo  de  matrimonio  (1) 

argolla  (11) 

anillo  matrimonial  (3) 

aniUo  de  boda(s)  (9) 

alianza  (3) 

anillo  de  matrimonio  (3) 

anillo  de  boda  (2) 

argolla  de  matrimonio  (2) 

aniUo(l) 

alianza  (2) 

sortija  (1) 

anillo  matrimonial  (1) 

anillo  de  casado  (1) 

sortija  (1) 

arad) 

fe(l) 

Cuadro  1. Ejemplo  de  preguntas  y  respuestas  del  cuestionario 


En  el  cuadro  1  la  palabra  esqueletón  se  encuentra  en  cursiva  debido  a  que  es  un 
caso  de  interferencia  del  inglés.  El  número  entre  paréntesis  indica  el  número  de 
veces  que  los  informantes  seleccionaron  una  palabra.  El  número  a  la  izquierda  de 
las  palabras  en  mayúscula  corresponde  al  número  de  la  entrada  del  cuestionario. 
Dichas  palabras  indican  el  objeto  que  se  preguntó.  Las  palabras  en  minúscula  son 
las  respuestas  dadas  por  los  informantes.  En  las  respuestas  a  la  pregunta  882  hay 
más  de  25  ocurrencias  debido  a  que  varios  informantes  dieron  más  de  una  variante. 
A  cada  informante  se  le  asignó  un  número,  el  cual  aparece  debajo  de  las  respuestas 
a  las  preguntas  1  y  5  de  los  monolingües.  Omito  el  número  correspondiente  a  cada 
informante  en  las  demás  preguntas  de  la  muestra  por  razones  de  espacio. 

Las  pesquisas  se  realizaron  por  medio  de  dibujos  o  mostrando  el  objeto 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  l(Spring,  1994)  215 


directamente  y  preguntando  al  informante"¿Qué  es  esto?".  Los  dibujos  representaban 
objetos  tales  como  ojos,  camisa,  pulsera,  etc.  Cuando  no  fue  posible  mostrar  o 
dibujar  el  referente,  éste  se  decribió,  usando  las  definiciones  del  diccionario  de  la 
Real  Academia  Española.  Por  ejemplo,  "privación  o  disminución  de  la  facultad  de 
oír"  para  la  preguntaíorí/era.  Las  preguntas  no  incluyen  categorías  fucionales,  tales 
como  artículos,  preposiciones  o  conj  unciones.  Todas  son  categorías  léxicas:  nombres, 
verbos  y  adjetivos. 

3.2  Los  informantes 

Los  informantes  bilingües  chicanos  y  los  monolingües  mexicanos  entrevistados 
han  asistido  a  la  universidad  y  algunos  de  ellos  tienen  conocimientos  pasivos  de 
francés  o  de  alemán.  Todos  tienen  intereses  tales  como  el  arte,  el  teatro,  la  lectura 
etc.  Doce  son  mujeres  y  trece  son  hombres.  La  edad  de  los  informantes  fluctúa  entre 
25  y  81  años. 

Los  hablantes  bilingües  nacieron  en  Los  Angeles  o  llegaron  a  dicha  ciudad  muy 
jóvenes,  antes  de  la  pubertad.  Todos  son  bilingües  nativos  proficientes  (entienden, 
hablan,  leen  y  escriben  ambas  lenguas)  y  se  criaron  en  hogares  en  que  se  hablaba 
el  español.  Viven  en  Los  Angeles,  salvo  viajes  cortos  al  extranjero.  Fueron 
entrevistados  por  25  encuestadores. 

Los  hablantes  monolingües  son  todos  mexicanos  de  nacimiento  y  han  vivido 
en  la  ciudad  de  México  siempre,  salvo  viajes  cortos  al  extranjero.  Algunos  de  ellos 
tienen  conocimientos  pasivos  de  inglés,  francés  o  alemán.  Fueron  entrevistados  por 
diez  encuestadores. 

33  £1  cuestionario  adicional 

Los  préstamos  del  inglés  proporcionados  por  informantes  bilingües  que  no  se 
hallan  registrados  en  los  diccionarios  se  preguntaron  a  veinte  informantes  más, 
según  se  indicó  arriba.  Los  informantes  y  los  encuestadores  tienen  las  mismas 
características  de  los  del  cuestionario  léxico.  Sin  embargo,  las  preguntas  fueron  de 
selección  múltiple.  Por  ejemplo,  clavical:  "la  usa  siempre,  la  usa  poco,  no  la  usa 
pero  la  conoce,  no  la  usa  nunca". 

3.4  Los  encuestadores 

Los  encuestadores  que  entrevistaron  a  los  informantes  monolingües  y  bilingües 
son  cultos,  universitarios,  miembros  de  las  comunidades  estudiadas.  Son  nativos  de 
las  ciudades  en  que  hicieron  las  entrevistas.  Todos  recibieron  entrenamiento 
especial  a  fin  de  que  las  preguntas  se  hicieran  de  igual  manera.  Los  encuestadores 
de  los  hablantes  bilingües  son  proficientes  en  inglés  y  español. 

4.  Préstamos  del  inglés  al  español 

Cada  uno  de  los  cuestionarios  proporcionó  cerca  de  20,000  respuestas,  como 
puede  verse  en  la  columna  número  de  respuestas  del  cuadro  2.  Entre  bilingües  y 
monoüngües,  los  préstamos  del  inglés  al  español  son  pocos,  menos  del  3%  entre 


216  Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


los  bilingües^  y  menos  del  2%  entre  los  monolingües,  según  se  indica  en  la  columna 
5. 

1.  BILINGÜES 


c.  semántico 

#  de  preguntas 

^  de  respuestas 

^préstamos 
del  inglés 

%anglicismos 

cuerpo  humano 

330 

8  528 

133 

1.56 

vestido 

434 

11414 

452 

3.96 

Total 

764 

19  942 

585 

2.93 

2.  MONOLINGÜES 

c.  semántico 

#  de  preguntas 

#  de  respuestas 

^préstamos 
del  inglés 

%anglicismos 

cuerpo  humano 

330 

8  580 

vestido 

434 

11284 

328 

2.90 

Total 

764 

19  864 

328 

1.65 

Cuadro  2.  Préstamos  del  inglés  en  el  español  de  Los  Angeles  y  dela  ciudad  de  México 


En  el  cuadro  2,  primera  colunma,  se  indican  los  campos  semánticos  analizados 
entre  bilingües  y  monoüngües.  En  la  segunda  columna  se  señala  el  número  de 
preguntas  que  contiene  cada  campo  semántico  preguntado.  En  la  tercera  colunma 
se  anota  el  número  de  respuestas  dadas  a  las  preguntas  del  cuestionario.  En  la  cuarta 
colunma  se  incluye  el  total  de  préstamos  del  inglés  que  proporcionaron  los 
informantes.  Este  número  es  parte  del  número  contenido  en  la  columna  #  de 
repuestas.  En  la  última  columna  se  indica  el  porcentaje  del  total  de  respuestas  que 
corresponde  a  los  anglicismos  del  cuestionario. 

En  el  número  de  los  préstamos  del  inglés  (columna  4)  se  incluyen  préstamos 
momentáneos,  préstamos  incorporados  y  traducciones  literales.  El  bajo  porcentaje 
de  préstamos  es  paralelo  al  encontrado  en  otras  situaciones  de  bilingüismo  (véase 
Lope  Blanch  1990,  Poplack  1993).  Sin  embargo,  no  puede  afirmarse  que  la 
interferencia  de  una  lengua  a  otra  se  baja  umversalmente,  pues  hay  situaciones  de 
bilingüismo  distintas  a  la  del  español  y  el  inglés  en  Los  Angeles  en  que  la 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  VoL  xxiü.  No.  l(Spring,  1994)  217 


interferencia  de  una  lengua  sobre  la  otra  es  más  profunda  (véase  por  ejemplo  Hill 
y  Hill  1986;  Parodi  1986  y  Parodi  y  Quicoli  en  prensa). 


5.  Distribución  de  los  prestamos  dei  inglés  en  el  léxico 

Las  respuestas  de  los  dos  grupos  de  hablantes  al  cuestionario  muestra  que  los 
bilingües  incorporan  préstamos  del  inglés  en  ambos  campos  semánticos,  pero  los 
monolingües  no.  Los  monolingües  sólo  seleccionan  anglicismos  cuando  se  refieren 
a  objetos  que  forman  parte  del  campo  semántico  del  vestido.  Ello  se  muestra  en  el 
cuadro  número  3. 

1.  BILINGÜES 


c.  semántico 

#  total  unidades 
léxicas 

^préstamos  del  inglés 

%anglicismos 

c.  humano 

1968 

97 

4.92 

vestido 

2634 

186 

7.06 

Total 

4602 

283 

6.14 

2.  MONOLINGÜES 

c.  semántico 

#  total  unidades 
léxicas 

^préstamos  del  inglés 

%anglicismoi 

c.  humano 

1320 

vestido 

17362 

57 

3.28 

Total 

3056 

57 

1.86 

Cuadro  3.  Distribución  de  unidades  léxicas  entre  bilingües  y  monolingües 


En  el  cuadro  3,  columna  1,  se  indican  los  campos  semánticos  analizados.  En  la 
colimma  2  se  incluye  el  número  de  unidades  léxicas  dadas  por  los  informantes  a  las 
preguntas.  En  la  columna  3  se  indica  el  número  de  unidades  léxicas  del  inglés 
proporcionadas  por  los  informantes.  En  la  última  columna  se  indica  el  porcentaje 
de  unidades  léxicas  procedentes  del  inglés  con  respecto  del  total  de  unidades 
léxicas.  En  el  cuadro  3  puede  observarse  que  los  informantes  bilingües  proporcionaron 


218  Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


283  préstamos  del  inglés  y  los  monolingües  57.  El  porcentaje  del  número  de 
anglicismos  del  total  de  unidades  léxicas  es  de  6.14%  entre  bilingües  y  el  1.86% 
entre  monolingües. 

Tomando  en  consideración  la  frecuencia  con  que  un  hablante  bilingüe  alterna 
las  dos  lenguas'*,  cabría  esperar  un  índice  más  alto  de  préstamos.  Sin  embargo,  como 
se  indicó  anteriormente  y  como  puede  observarse  en  el  cuadro  3,  ello  no  es  así.  A 
pesar  de  que  el  porcentaje  de  préstamos  del  inglés  al  español  de  Los  Angeles  y  de 
la  ciudad  de  México  no  es  alto,  hay  diferencias  interesantes  en  el  español  de  una  y 
otra  ciudad.  En  el  español  mexicano  las  328  ocurrencias  de  anglicismos  se  reducen 
a  57  unidades  léxicas.  En  el  español  de  Los  Angeles  las  585  ocurrencias  de  palabras 
de  origen  inglés  se  restringen  a  283  variantes  léxicas.  Los  anglicismos  del  español 
mexicano,  debido  a  que  son  préstamos  incorporados,  forman  parte  del  vocabulario 
común.  Lo  mismo  que  cualquier  otra  palabra  del  español,  pueden  coexistir  con  otros 
vocablos  de  los  cuales  son  sinónimos  o  cuasi-sinónimos.  Por  ejemplo,  en  el  léxico 
monolingüe  la  palabra  lipsück  (13%)  coexiste  con  lápiz  de  labios  (28%),  lápiz 
labial  (28%),  bilet  (25%)  y  pintura  de  labios  (6%),  lo  mismo  que  la  voz  argolla 
(33%)  covaría  con  anillo  de  bodas  (21%),  alianza  (6%),  etc.  según  se  muestra  en 
el  cuadro  número  1 .  Ocasionalmente  los  préstamos  del  inglés  son  el  único  término 
para  referirse  a  algún  objeto,  por  ejemplo  bikini  (1(X)%),  champoo  (100%)  o  1044 
mocasín  (100%).  Entre  los  monolingües,  el  58%  de  préstamos  del  inglés  fueron 
seleccionados  una  o  dos  veces  (33  de  57  unidades  léxicas).  Sólo  el  9%  de  las 
palabras  fueron  ocurrieron  24  o  25  veces  (5  de  57  unidades  léxicas)  en  las  respuesta 
a  las  preguntas  del  cuestionario.  Es  decir,  los  préstamos  del  inglés  entre  los 
monolingües  se  concentran  en  ciertas  áreas  de  su  léxico,  pero  no  de  manera 
exclusiva,  pues  casi  siempre  coocurren  con  otras  palabras  del  español. 

Los  bilingües  emplean  las  mismas  estrategias  que  los  monolingües  en  la 
selección  de  las  palabras.  Con  respecto  de  los  préstamos,  hay  diferencias  numéricas 
entre  uno  y  otro  grupo.  Entre  los  bilingües  los  préstamos  del  inglés  también  suelen 
ocurrir  en  baja  proporción  en  las  respuestas  al  cuestionario,  pero  con  un  índice  de 
dispersión  más  alto.  Casi  todos  estos  covarían  con  palabras  del  español.  En  el 
español  de  Los  Angeles  cada  préstamo  del  inglés  ocurre  en  una  o  dos  ocasiones  el 
85%  de  las  veces  (243  de  283  unidades  léxicas).  Por  ejemplo.  Adam  's  apple  (8.69%) 
coocurre  con  laringe  (73.91  %)  y  manzana  (8.69%)  y  las  cufflinks  (9.52%)  coexiste 
con  mancuernillas  (57.14%),  mancuernas  (9.52%)  o  gemelos  (23.80%).  Sólo  tres 
palabras,  shampoo,  mocasines  y  brasier,  fueron  seleccionadas  24  o  25  veces  (3  de 
283).  El  alto  grado  de  dispersión  de  los  préstamos  del  inglés,  unido  a  un  índice  bajo 
de  concentración  parece  ser  característico  del  bilingüismo  en  circunstancias  similares 
a  las  de  Los  Angeles.  En  la  región  de  Ottawa-Hull,  Poplack,  Sankoff  y  Miller  ( 1 988) 
encuentran  una  situación  parecida  a  la  de  Los  Angeles  con  respecto  a  la  concentración 
y  a  la  dispersión  de  préstamos  del  inglés  al  francés.  La  introducción  de  présta- 
mos lingüísticos  en  situaciones  de  monolingüismo  se  debe,  en  la  mayor  parte  de  los 
casos,  a  la  necesidad  de  los  hablantes  de  referirse  a  realidades  nuevas.  De  ahí  que 
no  haya  anglicismos  en  el  campo  semántico  del  cuerpo  humano,  pero  sí  en  el  del 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  l(Spring,  1994) 


219 


vestido  entre  los  monolingiies.  En  cambio,  en  situaciones  de  bilingüismo,  la  razón 
por  la  cual  los  hablantes  adoptan  un  préstamo  resulta  menos  clara.  Hay,  sin 
embargo,  ciertas  pautas  generales  que  permiten  determinar  el  motivo  por  el  cual  los 
bilingües  seleccionan  una  palabra  procedente  de  la  otra  lengua.  En  el  apartado 
número  7  se  verán  ejemplos  que  ilustran  dichas  pautas  generales. 

6.  Tipo  de  préstamo  entre  bilingües  y  monolingiies 

Los  monolingües  mexicanos  sólo  seleccionan  préstamos  del  inglés 
incorporados  al  español  mexicano.  Los  bilingües  chícanos,  además  de  este  tipo 
de  préstamo,  introducen  en  su  discurso  préstamos  momentáneos,  traducciones 
literales  y  préstamos  peculiares  del  español  chicano,  como  puede  observarse  en 
el  cuadro  número  4. 


CUERPO  HUMANO 

bilingües 

% 

monolingües 

% 

préstamos  establecidos 

préstamos  momentánteos 

77 

79.4 

préstamos  del  español  chicano 

6 

6.1 

traducciones  literales 

14 

14.5 

Total 

97 

100 

VESllDO 

bilingües 

% 

monolingües 

% 

préstamos  establecidos 

79 

42.4 

57 

100 

préstamos  momentáneos 

74 

39.8 

préstamos  del  español  chicano 

14 

7.6 

traducciones  üterales 

19 

10.2 

Total 

186 

100 

57 

100 

Cuadro  4.  Tipo  de  préstamo  usado  entre  bilingües  y  monolingües 


220  Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


En  el  cuadro  número  4,  columna  1,  se  indica  el  tipo  de  préstamo  recogido  en 
el  cuestionario,  en  las  columnas  2  y  4  se  señala  el  número  de  unidades  léxicas 
correspondientes  a  cada  tipo  de  préstamo  entre  bilingües  y  monolingües 
respectivamente:  préstamos  establecidos,  préstamos  momentáneos,  préstamos 
propios  del  español  chicano  y  traducciones  literales.  En  las  columnas  3  y  5  se  señala 
la  distribución  de  los  porcentajes  de  los  préstamos.  La  clasificación  de  los  préstamos 
se  hizo  consultando  diccionarios  tales  como  el  Diccionario  crítico  etimológico  de 
la  lengua  española  de  Corominas,  el  Dicionário  de  anglicismos  de  Alfaro,  el 
Diccionario  de  la  Real  Academia  Española,  el  Diccionario  de  mejicanismos  de 
Santa  María  y  El  diccionario  del  español  chicano  de  Galván  y  Teschner.  Sin 
embargo,  como  muchos  de  los  anglicismos  no  están  registrados  en  dichos  diccio- 
narios, clasifiqué  las  palabras  recogidas  en  el  cuestionario  monolingüe  como  prés- 
tamos establecidos.  Ello  se  debe  a  que  es  imposible  en  principio  que  un  hablante  con 
las  características  de  los  informantes  del  cuestionario  mexicano  responda  a  una 
pregunta  sobre  el  español  utilizando  un  término  del  inglés,  francés  o  del  alemán  que 
no  seapréstamo.  Además  utilicé  la  frecuencia  como  guía  para  establecer  qué  palabra 
es  préstamo.  Asimismo,  me  serví  de  la  frecuencia  para  determinar  cuando  hay 
desplazamiento  de  sinónimos  y  para  establecer  el  término  dominante  cuando  había 
coocurencia  de  voces.  El  empleo  de  la  frecuencia  como  indicador  supone  que,  una 
vez  determinados  los  constituyentes  de  un  campo  semántico,  la  frecuencia  de  uso 
puede  indicar  la  probabilidad  de  selección  de  un  término  frente  a  las  otras  palabras 
que  conforman  dicho  campo. 

Los  términos  del  inglés  no  registrados  ni  en  los  diccionarios  mencionados,  ni 
en  El  léxico  del  habla  culta  se  preguntaron  a  diez  hablantes  mexicanos  y  a  diez 
hablantes  chícanos  en  un  cuestionario  adicional.  Los  hablantes  entrevistados  tienen 
las  mismas  carcacterísticas  que  los  hablantes  que  respondieron  al  cuestionario 
léxico  (ver  3.2).  Si  dichos  hablantes  indicaron  que  ellos  no  usarían  dichas  palabras, 
se  clasificaron  como  préstamos  momentáneos  o  como  traducciones  literales,  según 
fuera  cada  caso.  Todos  ellos  ocurren  una  sola  vez.  Algunos  ejemplos  son  clavical, 
'clavícula',  dimples,  'hoyuelos',  lapeles  'solapas',  tramear  'zurcir',  estilo  de  pelo, 
'peinado',  rabo  de  pony,  'cola  de  caballo'.  Los  términos  que  ignoraron  los 
informantes  mexicanos,  pero  que  están  registrados  en  El  diccionario  del  español 
chicano  o  que  resultaron  aceptables  para  los  informantes  chícanos  se  clasificaron 
como  peculiares  del  español  chicano.  Ejemplos  de  este  tipo  de  préstamo  son:  bib 
'babero',  blush  'colorete',  y  pinki  'meñique';  véanse  más  ejemplos  y  las  palabras 
con  las  cuales  coocurren  en  el  cuadro  7. 

Arriba  se  señaló  que  la  frecuencia  con  que  se  selecciona  un  término  puede 
indicar  el  deplazamiento  de  sinónimos  o  la  coocurrencia  de  un  vocablo  con  otros. 
El  hecho  de  que  una  palabra  se  haya  registrado  tan  sólo  una  vez  no  significa 
necesariamente  que  dicho  vocablo  no  esté  integrado  en  el  léxico.  Como  ya  se  indicó, 
la  selección  lingüística  no  se  puede  predecir.  Por  ello,  resulta  sumamente  importante 
hacer  una  encuesta  adicional  sobre  las  voces  con  un  índice  de  ocurrencia  bajo.  Pero 
si  una  palabra  ocurre  varias  veces  es  seguro  que  está  integrada. 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  KSpring,  1994)  221 


En  el  cuadro  6  proporcionó  una  muestra  de  los  préstamos  del  inglés  integrados 
al  español  chicano  y  al  mexicano.  Cada  una  de  estas  voces  se  registra  diez  o  más 
veces  en  las  respuestas  al  cuestionario.  Nótese  que  sólo  el  2.8%  de  anglicismos  (8 
de  283  variantes  léxicas)  se  usó  más  de  diez  veces  entre  los  chícanos,  frente  al  23% 
empleado  por  los  mexicanos  en  diez  o  más  ocasiones  (13  de  57  unidades  léxicas). 
Esta  disparidad  numérica  se  debe,  como  ya  se  indicó  previamente,  a  la  desigualdad 
entre  concentración  y  dispersión  en  el  español  bilingüe  y  el  monolingüe.  Sólo 
menciono  la  forma  coocurrente  de  porcentaje  más  frecuente  en  los  cinco  ejemplos 
ya  incluidos  en  el  cuadro  6  por  razones  de  espacio. 


bilingüi 

es 

monolingües 

anglicismo 

ip 

covariante 

ip 

anglicismo 

ip 

covariante 

ip 

821 

bikini 

.63 

traje  debaño 
de  dos  piezas 

.36 

bikini 

1 

812 

brasier 

1 

brasier 

.85 

sostén 

.14 

984 

tuxedo 

1 

esmoquin 

.95 

tuxedo 

.09 

641 

overol 

.94 

buzo 

.05 

overol 

.91 

mono 

.08 

806 

zipper 

.50 

cierre 

.50 

zipper 

.46 

cierre 

.54 

Cuadro  6  préstamos  incorporados  en  el  español  bilingüe  y  monolingüe 


En  el  cuadro  6,  columna  1 ,  indico  el  número  que  corresponde  a  cada  palabra  en 
el  cuestionario.  Las  columnas  2  y  6  contienen  las  listas  de  los  préstamos  del  inglés 
en  el  español  chicano  y  mexicano  respectivamente.  Las  columnas  4  y  8  incluyen  las 
voces  que  coocurren  con  los  préstamos  con  mayor  frecuencia.  Las  columnas  3,5,7 
y  9  comprenden  los  Índices  de  probabilidad  de  las  palabras  a  la  izquierda.  El  índice 
de  probabilidad  se  calculó  siguiendo  los  lincamientos  de  Mackey  1970,  según  la 
fórmula  ip  (v  It  >  v  lv=  at/a).  Como  ya  se  indicó,  el  índice  de  probabilidad  señala 
la  posibilidad  de  ocurrencia  de  un  término  con  relación  a  otro  con  el  cual  coexiste 
en  un  mismo  campo  semántico. 

La  coincidencia  de  voces  entre  monolingües  y  bilingües  resulta  notable  con 
respecto  a  los  préstamos  incorporados.  Ello  puede  explicarse  debido  a  la  cercanía 
que  hay  entre  el  español  de  los  informantes  y  el  español  mexicano.  La  mayor  parte 
de  los  informantes  o  bien  llegaron  de  México  de  niños  o  bien  son  primera  o  segunda 
generación  en  los  Estados  Unidos.  Por  otro  lado,  la  cercanía  geográfica  con  México, 
la  inmigración  constante  y  el  hecho  de  que  los  medios  de  comunicación  masiva 


222 


Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


hayan  adoptado  el  español  mexicano  como  estándar  en  Los  Angeles  pueden  expli- 
car dicha  coincidencia.  Futuros  estudios  más  detallados  sobre  el  tema  podrán  aclarar 
si  este  punto  es  general  en  el  español  chicano  de  Los  Angeles. 

Cabe  suponer  que  en  estos  casos  no  ha  habido  interferencia  del  inglés  en  el 
español  de  los  bilingües.  Estos  ejemplos  parecen  ser  préstamos  originales  del 
dialecto  del  español  adquirido  por  los  bilingües  y  no  innovaciones  originadas  por 
el  contacto  de  las  dos  lenguas.  El  inglés  en  coexistencia  con  el  español  refuerza  el 
mantenimiento  de  los  anglicismos  originales.  Pero  cuando  hay  divergencia  entre 
dos  anglicismos,  uno  original  y  otro  procedente  del  inglés  de  Los  Angeles, 
predomina  la  voz  cercana  al  inglés  local.  Por  ejemplo  el  angücismo  tuxedo,  ha 
invertido  el  índice  de  frecuencia  con  su  coocurrente  esmoquin  en  el  español  de  Los 
Angeles,  dado  que  la  forma  smoking  se  desconoce  con  ese  significado  en  el  inglés 
de  Los  Angeles.  Por  otro  lado,  el  contacto  de  las  dos  lenguas  motiva  que  los 
hablantes  bilingües  reconozcan  los  préstamos  del  inglés  y  los  pronuncien  utilizando 
las  pautas  fonéticas  del  inglés  y  no  las  del  español,  como  los  monolingües. 

Entre  los  bilingües  es  más  alto  el  índice  de  frecuencia  de  los  anglicismos 
incorporados  al  español  que  los  préstamos  del  inglés  privativos  del  español  chicano, 
como  puede  observarse  en  el  cuadro  número  7.  Al  igual  que  los  préstamos 
momentáneos,  los  préstamos  privativos  del  español  chicano  sólo  ocurren  una  o  dos 
veces.  De  ahí  que  resulte  metodológicamente  crucial  la  segunda  encuesta  en  la  que 
los  informantes  bihngües  señalaron  las  formas  que  ellos  usaban. 

En  el  cuadro  número  7,  menciono  cinco  ejemplos  de  anglicismos  peculiares  del 
español  chicano,  junto  con  la  forma  coocurrente  más  usual  y  su  equivalente  en  el 
español  mexicano: 


bilingües 

monolingües 

anglicismo 

% 

covariante 

% 

covariante 

% 

972 

bib 

.04 

babero 

.98 

babero 

.96 

1058 

laundry 

.03 

lavandería 

.96 

lavandería 

1 

957 

mascara 

.05 

rimel 

.94 

rimel 

1 

291 

pinki 

.16 

meñique 

.88 

meñique 

.70 

719 

t-shirt 

.03 

camiseta 

.96 

canüseta 

1 

Cuadro  7  anglicismos  peculiares  del  español  chicano 
En  el  cuadro  7,  columna  1,  indico  el  número  correspondiente  a  la  entrada  del 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali.  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  KSpring,  1994)  223 


cuestíonario.  La  columna  2  contiene  la  lista  de  los  préstamos  del  inglés  en  el  español 
chicano.  Las  columnas  4  y  6  incluyen  las  voces  que  coocurren  con  los  préstamos  con 
mayor  frecuencia  en  el  español  chicano  y  el  español  mexicano.  Las  columnas  3,5 
y  7  comprenden  los  Índices  de  probabilidad  de  las  palabras  a  la  izquierda. 

Ninguno  de  estos  ejemplos  fue  aceptado  por  los  informantes  mexicanos 
consultados  por  segunda  vez.  En  cambio,  los  informantes  chícanos  los  aprobaron 
e  indicaron  que  los  usan,  aunque  prefieren  las  formas  dominantes.  En  total  encontré 
que  el  7%  de  las  unidades  léxicas  (20  de  un  total  de  283)  se  encuentran  en  esta 
categoría.  Se  caracterizan  por  aparecer  una  o  dos  veces,  siempre  en  concurrencia 
con  el  término  estándar .  Sólo  uno  de  ellos,  clorox,  está  incluido  en  El  diccionario 
del  español  chicano. 

7.  Causas  de  la  adopción  de  préstamos  entre  bilingües 

En  cartados  anteriores  se  indicó  que  ni  la  selección  lingüística,  ni  los  motivos 
por  los  cuales  se  introducen  los  préstamos  a  las  lenguas  pueden  predecirse.  Sin 
embargo,  se  señaló  que  hay  ciertas  pautas  generales  que  ayudan  a  entender  por  qué 
los  bilingües  seleccionan  una  palabra  procedente  de  la  otra  lengua.  Además  de  la 
introducción  de  préstamos  para  indicar  realidades  nuevas,  que  no  es  exclusiva  del 
bilingüismo,  hay  otras  razones  que  ayudan  a  entender  la  selección  de  términos 
procedentes  de  la  otra  lengua  o  las  traducciones  literales.  Cabe  indicar  que  se  trata 
de  pautas  tan  sólo,  pues  todavía  se  requiere  de  mucho  estudio  para  conocer  la 
motivación  del  préstamo  lingüístico.  Tomando  en  cuenta  los  préstamos  en  las  res- 
puestas del  cuestionario,  encuentro  las  siguientes  pautas  generales: 

a.  Préstamos  debidos  a  necesidades  descriptivas:  doble  chin  (32%)  o  dos 
barbas  (4%),  frente  al  término  común  papada  (60%). 

b.  Extensiones  de  significado:  ziper  (8%)  por  bragueta  (48%); 

africano  (3.9%)  o  persona  de  color  (3.9%)  en  lugar  del 
general  negro  (81%). 

c.  Préstamos  debidos  a  dificultades  en  la  producción:  palito  (4%)  en  lugar 
del  común  paladar  (96%);  joints  (6%)  o  juntas  (6%)  por  la  voz 
articulaciones  (69%)  o  coyunturas  (19%). 

8.  Conclusiones 

En  este  trabajo  analicé  el  proceso  de  incorporación  de  los  prestamos  del  inglés 
al  español  chicano  y  mexicano.  La  investigación  de  la  forma  en  que  los  hablantes 
de  una  lengua  adoptan  las  palabras  de  otra  ha  planteado  problemas  metodológicos 
que  se  presentan  sobre  todo  en  el  ámbito  del  estudio  del  léxico  de  los  bilingües  por 
medio  de  cintas  mangetófonicas. 

En  este  artículo  sugiero  una  alternativa  metodológica  al  uso  de  cintas  grabadas. 
Propongo  recoger  los  materiales  léxicos  por  medio  del  uso  de  un  cuestionario 
léxico,  complementado  con  preguntas  de  acceptabilidad. 

Los  resultados  obtenidos  muestran  que  este  sistema  permite  la  colección  y 
evaluación  de  los  datos  de  una  manera  más  simple  y  eficaz  que  las  cintas  grabadas. 


224 


Bilingüismo  y  préstamo  léxico:  español  chicano  vs.  español  mexicano 


Asimismo,  con  este  sistema  no  surge  el  problema  de  la  separación  de  préstamos 
léxicos  momentáneos  de  la  altemacia  de  lenguas. 

La  colección  adecuada  de  materiales  permitió  distinguir  el  grado  de  integración 
de  cada  préstamo  y  hacer  distinciones  sutiles.  Por  ejemplo,  determinar  la  diferencia 
entre  los  préstamos  del  inglés  incorporados  en  el  español  mexicano  y  en  el  chicano, 
frente  a  los  préstamos  propios  del  español  chicano  y  los  préstamos  momentáneos. 

Claudia  Parodi 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTAS 

*La  presente  investigación  se  llevó  a  cabo  gracias  a  una  beca  otorgada  a  la  autora  por 
el  Senado  Académico  de  la  Universidad  de  Caüfomia  de  Los  Angeles. 

1  Basta  revisar  cualquier  manual  reciente  sobre  bilingílismo  o  cualquier  artículo  sobre 
este  tema  para  que  ello  resulte  patente.  Véase,  por  ejemplo,  Hoffman  199 1,  Lastra  1992,  Pfaff 
1979  o  Poplack  1993. 

2  Lo  préstamos  permanentes  tampoco  necesitan  estar  adaptados  ni  morfológica  ni 
fonéticamente.  Piénsese  en  préstamos  del  español  mexicano,  tales  como  beige.  club  o 
tlapalería,  que  rompen  con  las  pautas  fonológicas  y  morfológicas  del  español  general.  Cabe 
añadir  los  muchos  casos  de  interferencia  fonética  del  español  en  las  lenguas  indígenas 
americanas  introducidos  a  través  de  préstamos  léxicos  del  español  en  situaciones  de 
bilingüismo.  Para  ejemplos,  véase  Lastra  1992  y  Parodi  1987. 

^  Ello  también  sucede  en  otras  áreas  de  la  lengua,  para  la  sintaxis  véase  por  ejemplo  Silva 
Corvalán  (1982) 

^  En  el  siguiente  cuadro  puede  observarse  el  alto  índice  de  alternancia  del  inglés  y  el 
español  en  bilingües  cultos  de  Los  Angeles  (i.e.  han  asistido  a  la  universidad).  Están  tomados 
de  cuatro  horas  de  grabación  (alt.=alternancia). 


Me  alt. 
por  hora 

^  de  alt. 
por  minuto 

%  de  palabras 
en  inglés 

%  de  palabras 
en  español 

habla  vernacular 

188 

3.1 

50% 

50% 

habla  formal 

109 

1.8 

15% 

85% 

Nótese  que  en  el  habla  vernacular  el  50%  de  las  palabras  proceden  del  español  y  el  50%  del 
inglés.  Ello,  unido  a  los  ejemplos  citados  en  el  texto,  demuestra  la  extremada  dificultad  en 
separar  una  lengua  de  la  otra  y  en  determinar  cuándo  hay  préstamos  y  cuándo  hay  altemacia 
de  lenguas  en  el  estilo  vernacular. 


OBRAS  CITADAS 

Alfaro,  R.J.  Diccionario  de  anglicismos.  Madrid:  Gredos,  1970. 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Voi  xxiii,  No.  l(Spring,  1994)  225 


Corominas,  J.  y  J.  A.  Pascual.  Diccionario  crítico  etimológico  de  la  lengua  española.  Madrid: 

Credos,  1981. 
Cuestionario  para  el  estudio  coordinado  de  la  norma  lingüística  culta  de  Iberoaméricay  de 

la  Península  Ibérica.  Madrid:  Consejo  Superior  de  Investigaciones  Científicas,  1973. 
Diccionario  de  la  Real  Academia  Española.  Madrid:  Espasa  Calpe,  1970. 
Galván  R.  y  R.  Teschner.  El  diccionario  del  español  chicano.  Lincolnwood,  lUinois: 

Voluntad  Publishers,  1986. 
HiU  J.  y  K.  Hill.  Speaking  Mexicano:  Dynamics  ofsyncretic  language  in  Cera  ral  México. 

Tucson:  The  University  of  Arizona  Press,  1986. 
Hoffman,  C.An  Introduction  to  Bilingualism.  New  York:  Lindon  and  Longman,  1991. 
Lastra,  Y.  Sociolinguística  para  hispanoamericanos.  México:  El  Colegio  de  México,  1992. 
Léxico  del  habla  culta.  México:  UNAM,  1978. 
Lope  Blanch,  J.M.  El  español  hablado  en  el  sureste  de  los  Estados  Unidos.  México:  UNAM, 

1990. 
Mackey,  W.  F.  "Interference,  integration  and  the  synchronic  fallacy".  Georgetown  Univer- 
sity Round  table  on  languages  and linguistics  23.  Washington:  Georgetown  University 

Press,  1970:195-227. 
Parodi,  C.  "Los  hispanismos  de  las  lenguas  mayances".  Homenaje  a  Rubén  Bonifaz  Ñuño. 

México:  UNAM,  1989:339-49. 
Parodi,  C.  y  C.  Quicoli.  "The  Linguistics  of  the  Discovery:  The  Origins  of  the  Caipira 

Dialect".  Encruzilhadas  (en  prensa). 
Pfaff,  C.  "Constraints  on  language  mixing,"  Language,  55  (1979):291-318. 
Poplack,  S.,  D.  Sankoff  y  C.  Miller.  "The  social  correlates  and  linguistic  processes  of  lexical 

borrowing  and  assimilation,"  Linguistics  26  (1988):47-104 
Poplack,  S.  "Variation  Theory  and  Language  Contact."  Amencan  Dialect  Research.  Editado 

por  Dennis  R.  Preston.  Amsterdam  Philadelphia:  John  Benjamins,  1993. 
Silva  Corvalán,  C.  "Subject  expression  and  placement  in  Mexican-American  Spanish." 

Spanish  in  the  United  States.  Editado  por  J.  Amastae  y  L.  Olivares.  Cambridge: 

Cambridge  University  Press,  1982:  93-120. 
Santa  María,  F.  Diccionario  de  Mejicanismos.  Méjico:  Ed.  PoiTÚa,  1959. 


Literary  Joumal  of  the  Gradúate  Students  of  the 

DEPARTMENT  OF  SPANISH  AND  PORTUGUESE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 


Cali  for  papers! 

General  Issue  Vol.  24.2 
by  October  15, 1995 

To  be  considered  for  publication  manuscripts  should  foUow  the  MLA 
style  sheet.  The  original  and  three  copies  are  required  for  ali  submis- 
sions.  Please  include  a  cover  letter  with  the  name  and  address  of  the 
author;  please  do  not  write  name  on  manuscripts.  Ali  submissions 
should  be  sent  to  : 


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University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 

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Los  Angeles,  Ca.  90024. 


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Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  <ÍVol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  227 


Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México 
Chicano  English 


Introductíon 

It  is  well  known  that  Chícanos  who  speak  Chicano  English  (=ChE)  live  in 
multilingual/multidialectal  communities.  Thus,  there  is  much  regional  linguistic 
variatíon  within  the  ChE  dialect.^  This  pilot  study  uncovers  one  such  dialectal 
variation  spoken  in  Northern  New  México  (=NNM).  In  this  particular  región,  the 
fluent  ChE  spoken  as  a  first  language  most  likely  originated  in  the  variety  of  English 
spoken  by  immigrants  from  México  who  have  leamed  English  as  a  second 
language.  This  variety,  however,  became  nativized  by  subsequent  generations,  and 
is  often  the  only  means  of  communication.  (Peñalosa  1980:  118)  Because  the 
inhabitants  of  this  predominantly  monolingual  environment  are  not  recent  immi- 
grants from  a  spanish  speaking  country,  their  English  is  not  a  result  of  language 
interference  but  is  strongly  rooted  in  the  región  transcending  age,  race  and 
socioeconomic  status.  The  main  focus  of  this  pilot  study  is  to  describe  the  vowel 
shift  in  the  monolingual  ChE  spoken  in  NNM  which  I  have  found  to  be  systematic, 
proving  that  the  ChE  spoken  specifically  in  this  región  is  a  dialect  of  StE  worthy  of 
study  independent  of  other  dialectal  variations  of  ChE.  This  is  an  important  subject 
since  there  exists  a  large  and  rapidly  growing  population  of  monolingual  ChE 
speakers  living  in  the  southwestem  United  States,  yet  there  are  comparatively  few 
studies  done  in  this  área. 

Subjects 

The  subjects  used  in  this  pilot  study  are  ali  monolingual  ChE  speakers  from  Las 
Vegas,  Sapello  and  Santa  Fe;  these  towns  are  ali  located  in  NNM.  The  subjects 
consist  of  a  thirteen  year  old  chicana,  a  thirty-four  year  old  chicana  high  school 
mathematics  teacher,  a  sixteen  year  old  chicano,  a  fifty  year  old  homemaker,  a 
twenty-six  year  old  chicano  hardware  store  worker,  a  chicano  dentist  of  forty-nine 
years  of  age  and  a  fifteen  year  old  non-chicana.  My  subjects  were  chosen  as  a 
convenient  sample,  the  only  criteria  being  that  they  had  lived  most  of  their  lives  in 
this  región  and  that  they  only  speak  English. 


228 


Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México  Chicano  English 


Methods 

The  data  for  my  findings  was  gathered  in  Las  Vegas  and  Santa  Fe,  New  México 
and  consists  of  unscripted  taped  conversations  at  a  high  school  basketball  game, 
with  shoppers  downtown,  and  in  a  hardware  store.  Following  these  conversations, 
the  subjects  were  asked  to  read  lists  of  words  in  which  vowel  sounds  appeared  in 
every  possible  environment  and  position  such  as  word  initial,  word  final,  stressed 
and  nnstressed  positions. 

The  study 

This  paper  is  organized  as  foUows:  I  will  first  show  the  phonetic  representa- 
tions  (=PR)  of  each  vowel  as  they  occur  in  StE  and  the  change  that  they  undergo  in 
ChE.  Following  the  examples  of  these  vowel  shifts,  a  rule  will  be  formulated  for 
each  vowel  phoneme,  and  the  shift  will  be  diagrammed  on  an  American  English 
vowel  chart.2  Finally,  once  each  vowel  shift  has  been  described  separately,  I  will 
combine  ali  of  the  data  to  illustrate  the  vowel  shift  pattem  in  NNM  ChE.  While  each 
vowel  phoneme  has  many  distinctive  features,  I  will  only  include  those  which  are 
relevant  to  the  study  at  hand. 

Analysis 

I  tum  now  to  the  analysis  of  the  high  tense  vowels  /i/  and  /u/.  StE  vowel 
phonemes  are  compared  with  the  ChE  pronunciation  of  the  same  word  to  show  the 
resulting  PR  of  the  ChE  vowel. 


/i/ 


(PR) 


StE 

ÇhE 

/y 

nj 

feel 

[fi£] 

[fl£] 

eal 

[i£] 

[K] 

seal 

[si£] 

[sl£] 

congeal 

[k8ndjí£] 

[k8ndjf£] 

conceal 

[k8nsí£] 

[k8nsf£] 

surreal 

[sarí£] 

[s9rf£] 

ideal 

[aydí£] 

/!/  =ChE  (PR) 

[aydf£] 

In  ChE,  the  underlying  representation  (=UR)  of  the  two  StE  phonemes  /i/  and 
/!/  is  different,  yet  they  have  only  one  PR  before  a  velar  /£/.  Also,  it  may  be  important 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  229 


for  later  comparison  to  note  that  this  shift  occurs  on  the  primary  stressed  vowel.  As 
the  examples  above  illustrate,  the  [+high]  [-back]  phoneme  /i/  in  StE  becomes  the 
[-high]  [-back]  phoneme  fU  in  ChE  when  on  a  primary  stressed  vowel  before  a  velar 
£.  This  mie  could  be  temporarily  formulated  as  follows: 


RULE  A  i— >I/(Co) 


+  stress 


The  following  examples  demónstrate  the  [+high]  [+back]  StE  phoneme  /u/ 
becoming  the  [-high]  [+back]  phoneme  /U/  when  pronounced  in  ChE: 

/u/  PR 


StE 

ChE 

/u/ 

/u/ 

pool 

[pu£] 

[pu£] 

boot 

[but] 

[but] 

room 

[rum] 

[rum] 

moody 

[múdi] 

[múdi] 

stupid 

[stúpld] 

/u/ 
ChE  (PR) 

[stúpld] 

Again,  the  ChE  UR  of  the  two  StE  phonemes  /u/  and  /U/  is  different,  however 
their  actual  PR  is  A//  when  occurring  before  any  consonant.  The  fact  that  this  shift 
occurred  again  on  the  primary  stressed  vowel  is  noteworthy.  The  pattem  here  can 
be  expressed  as  follows: 


RULE  B  [u]    -  [u]    /   (Co). 


+stress 


Before  proceeding  to  the  next  section,  I  will  diagram  the  [+high]  tense  vowel 
shift  in  the  NNM  ChE  of  monolinguals  on  a  vowel  chart  to  provide  a  conceptual 
view  of  their  behavior. 


230 


Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México  Chicano  English 


-back 

+back 

\  i 
\l 

u 

/ 

\   ^ 

0 

\  E 

9 

0 

X 

a 

a 

i 


The  next  vowels  on  the  chart  are  the  [-high]  lax  vowels  /!/  and  /U/.  These  do 
not  change  in  ChE.  The  [-high]  [-low]  tense  vowels  /e/  and  /o/,  which  usually  occur 
in  StE  when  they  are  dipthonguized  as  in  the  words  weight  and  boat ,  are  also  stable 
in  ChE;  they  behave  the  same  as  in  StE.  The  next  levei  however,  which  involves  the 
[-high]  [-low]  lax  vowels  /El ,  /8/  and  /O/,  does  shift  in  ChE  and  is  the  focus  of  the 
next  section  of  this  study. 

The  foUowing  are  examples  showing  the  behavior  of  the  [-high]  [-low]  [-back] 
phoneme  /E/  which  in  ChE  becomes  the  [+low]  [-back]  phoneme  /ae/: 


/E/ 


PR 


SíE 

ChE 

/E/ 

/ae/ 

hell 

[hEl] 

[hael] 

bell 

[bEl] 

[bael] 

elderly 

[Eldarli] 

[áldarli] 

elephant 

[Elafant] 

(ChE- 

PR) 

[álafant] 

The  preceding  show  that  the  UR  of  the  phonemes  fEJ  and  /se/  have  a  PR  of /ae/ 
in  ChE  when  it  ocurrs  before  a  velar  £.  This  shift  takes  place  once  again  on  the 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  231 

primary  stressed  vowel  for  which  I  have  developed  the  foUowing  rule: 

RULEC  [E]^[aE]  / £ 


+stress 


We  will  observe  now  the  contexts  in  which  the  [-high]  [-low]  [+back]  phoneme 
/Q/  in  StE  becomes  [+low]  [+back]  /a/  in  ChE: 

/a/  -  PR 


/a/ 

/a/ 

stuff 

[staf] 

[staf] 

flood 

[flad] 

[flad] 

stuck 

[stak] 

[stak] 

what 

[wat] 

[wat] 

oven 

[ávan] 

[ávan] 

must 

[ma  st] 

[mast] 

bug 

[bag] 

[bag] 

cup 

[cap] 

(ChE- 

PR) 

[cap] 

Abo  ve  is  the  same  phenomena  where  the  two  UR  of  the  phonemes  have  one  PR 
in  ChE.  I  have  formulated  the  above  shift  where  the  /a/  becomes  /a/  on  the  primary 
stressed  vowel  before  any  consonant  in  the  foUowing  way: 


RULE  D  [a]^  [a]    /  (Co). 


+stress 


The  next  examples  illustrate  the  shift  of  the  last  vowel  to  be  studied  /O/: 


232 


Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México  Chicano  English 


/O/    - 

hot 

august 

mommy 

far 

polish 


PR 


/O/ 

[hot] 

[5g9St] 

[mí5mi] 

[for] 

[píllj] 


I 


iQl 

[hot] 
[ágast] 
[mdmi] 
[for]        _ 
[pdUÍ]     1 


Id 
(ChE  -  PR) 


I  have  developed  the  following  rule  for  this  shift  in  which  the  [-high]  [-low] 
[+back]  phoneme  /O/  becomes  the  [+low]  [+back]  phoneme  IqI  before  any  conso- 
nant  and  on  the  primary  stressed  vowel: 


RULE   E 


[0] 


[0]    /    (Co) 


+stress 


The  above  examples  show  the  underlying  and  phonetic  and  surface  represen- 
tations  of  the  three  [-high]  [-low]  stressed  vowels.  Let  us  now  complete  this  part  of 
the  study  by  adding  the  vowel  shifts  from  this  section  to  those  of  the  high  vowels 
firom  the  preceding  section  for  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  NNM  ChE  vowel  shift. 


-back 

-t-back 

\  i 

\i 

u 

\ 

e 

0 

\         9P 

9 

3 
n 

Mester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  233 


As  shown  in  the  previous  data,  ali  the  shifts  appear  only  the  primary  stressed 
vowel.  In  addition,  we  can  now  assert,  by  lcx)king  at  the  above  ChE  vowel  shift  chart, 
that,  in  every  case  studied,  the  shift  consists  in  a  drop  of  one  notch  on  the  vowel  chart. 
Ali  this  data  will  now  be  combined  to  fonnulate  these  two  constants  into  the  least 
possible  rules,  in  this  case  two.  One  for  the  [-back]  vowels  and  another  for  the 
[+back]  ones  since  there  are  only  two  major  contexts  in  which  these  shifts  take 
place:  before  a  velar  £  and  before  any  consonant  respectívely. 


i 

-> 

1 

E 

ae 

+stress 


II. 


"u" 

'U 

B 

-^ 

a 

.3 

a 

(Co). 


+stress 


Conclusión 

The  study  of  English  dialects  is  rather  complex.  In  this  pilot  study  I  have  found 
a  vowel  shift  pattem  unique  to  a  región  whose  communities  are  characterized  by  a 
situation  wherein  the  use  of  ChE  transcends  age,  race  and  socioeconomic  status  so 
that  speakers  include:  teachers,  doctors,  the  clergy,  homemakers,  radio  announcers, 
business  people,  teenagers,  blue  collar  employees  and  even  non-chicanos.  Since  a 
dialect  is  defined  as  the  form  or  variety  of  a  spoken  language  peculiar  to  a  región, 
conununity,  social  group,  occupational  group  etc  .  .  .  and  is  regarded  as  being 
mutually  intelligible,  1  propose  that  NNM  ChE  be  considered  a  dialect  of  StE.^ 
Further  supporting  this  argument  is  the  fact  that  NNM  ChE  has  undergone  processes 
which  are  historically  not  new  to  dialects:  vowel  shifts  are  a  well-known  occurrence 
in  languages;^  in  addition,  1  believe  that  the  dialect  described  in  this  study  is  the 
result  of  a  situation  where  the  first  variety  of  a  language  (EngUsh  as  a  second 
language  spoken  by  immigrants  from  México  or  from  Spain  via  México)  became 
nativized  by  the  subsequent  generations.  This  is  not  a  new  phenomena  either;  it  was 


234  Vowel  Shift  in  Northern  New  México  Chicano  English 


discussed  in  depth  to  describe  the  dialect  of  Brazilian  Portuguese,  Caipira  Portu- 
guese.  (Parodi  &  Quicoli  1992) 

Pilar  Hernández 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


NOTES 

1  This  subject  is  dealt  with  quite  extensively  in  Form  and  Function  in  Chicano  English  (J. 
Ornstein-Galicia  1984)  and  Chicano  English:  an  Ethnic  Contact  Dialect  (Penfield,  J  and  J. 
Ornstein-Galicia  1985). 

2  The  American  English  Vowel  Chart  used  in  this  study  was  taken  from  Peter  Ladefoged's 
A  Course  in  Phonetics.  1982. 

3  This  definition  is  in  Webster's  New  World  Dictionary.  1980.  389. 

^  These  vowel  system  changes  are  summarized  in  Francis  Katamba's  An  introduction  to 
phonology.  1989.  137-140. 


WORKS  CITED 

Fromkin,  Victoria  &  Rodman,  Robert.  An  Introduction  to  Language.  4th  ed.  Holt,  Reinhart 

&  Winston,  Inc.  New  York,  NY.,  1988. 
Ladefoged,  Peter.  A  Course  in  Phonetics.  2nd  ed.  Harcourt  Brace  Jovanovich.  New  York, 

NY.  1982. 
Ornstein-Galicia,  Jacob.  Form  and  Function  in  Chicano  English,.  Newbury  House  Publish- 

ers,  Inc.  Rowley,  Mass.  1984. 
Parodi,  Claudia  &  Quicoli,  Carlos.  The  Linguistics  ofthe  Discovery:  Origins  ofthe  Caipira 

Dialect .  To  be  published  in  Encruzilhadas.  1992. 
Peñalosa,  Fernando.  Chicano  Sociolinguistics:  A  Brief  Introduction.    Newbury  House. 

Rowley,  Mass.  1980. 
Penfield,  J.  &J.  Ornstein-Galicia.  Chicano  English:  an  Ethnic  Contact  Dialect.  John 

Benjamins  Publishing  Company.  Amsterdam/Philadelphia,  985. 
Webster's  New  World  Dictionary.  Second  College  Edition.  Simon  and  Schuster.  New  York, 

NY.  1980. 


i 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  235 


Consonantal  Varíatíons  in 
Chicano  English 


Introduction 

Pronunciation  is  a  prominent  factor  that  clearly  marks  the  differences  found 
between  varieties  of  a  language.  A  series  of  investigations  in  this  field  concludes 
that  during  the  leaming  of  a  second  language,  a  new  phonological  system  is  derived 
different  from  the  native  language  as  well  as  the  target  language.  Studies  about  the 
English  spoken  by  Chícanos  produced  results  that  point  at  a  structural  consistency 
and  temporal  stability  that  forced  many  linguists  to  reconsider  previously  estab- 
lished  theories  about  language  interference.  The  English  spoken  by  Chícanos  is 
clearly  distinctive;  however,  it  lacks  of  many  features  that  characterizes  recent 
English  leamers. 

The  purpose  of  my  paper  will  be  to  look  at  the  variations  of  particular 
consonants  at  the  syllable-building  levei  in  Chicano  English.  I  shall  focus  on  the 
interchange  between  the  fricatives  and  the  affricates  palatais.  I  hope  to  bring  aclear 
analysis  of  the  roles  of  the  consonants,  in  particular  B  /  V  and  t5  /  5,  and  the  variations 
they  undergo  as  they  are  first  leamed  by  an  older  generation  of  non-native  speakers 
and  later  embraced  as  a  first  language  by  subsequent  generations,  thus  producing  a 
distinctive  way  of  speech  characteristic  of  an  ethnic  conmiunity.  This  paper  is 
intended  to  be  a  "pilot  study"  that  could  lead  to  further  investigation  on  this  subject. 

Minimal  Distinctions 

Marguerite  MacDonald'  s  article  on  The  influence  ofSpanish  Phonology  on  the 
English  spoken  by  United  States  Hispanics  is  a  comprehensive  study  of  this 
interesting  subjecL  Through  out  her  article  she  provides  detailed  analysis  that  leads 
her  to  conclude  that  Hispanic  EngHsh  derives  much  of  its  phonologic  identity  from 
Spanish  when  minimal  distinctions  are  involved.  However,  MacDonald  readily 
points  out  that  Spanish  transfer  must  be  supported  by  independem  motivation.  She 
highlights  for  us  the  múltiple  factors  that  must  be  taken  into  account.  She  strongly 
believes  that  "it  is  the  reinforcement  of  the  ancestral  language  phonology  by 


236 


Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English 


múltiple  sources,  including  markedness,  universality,  first-language  acquisition 
processes,  and  co-occurrence  in  the  host-language  varieties,  which  prolong  restruc- 
turing  in  the  interianguage  so  that  fossilization  results"  (MacDonald,  p.  233)  To  this 
variation,  she  attributes  the  phonologic  identity  of  the  ethnic  variety  of  English. 

The  potential  of  Transfer 

MacDonald  explains  that  Spanish  and  English  share  many  of  the  same 
consonant  phonemes.  English,  however,  outnumbers  Spanish  in  the  category  of 
fricatives.  Many  of  the  phonemes  in  these  two  languages  may  be  identical  but,  they 
still  may  differ  in  phonetic  realization  and  sequencing  of  segments.  Looking  at 
these  differences  MacDonald  points  out  that  the  potential  influence  of  the  Spanish 
sound  system  on  Hispanic  English  can  be  quite  pronounced. 

Obstruents 

In  this  category,  MacDonald  produces  the  foUowing  conclusión: 


(Spanish) 


Manner  of 
Articulation 

Point  of  Articulation                                 | 

BÜ 

Lab 

Den       Alv         Pai 

Vel 

Glo 

Stops 

(-voice) 

(+voice) 

P 
b 

t 
d 

k 

g 

Fricatives 
(-voice) 

f 

S       0 

r     s 

X 

Affricates 
(-voice) 

V 

c 

English 

Stops 

(-voice) 

(+voice) 

BU 

Labd 

Inter 

Alv 

Pai 

Vel 

Glo 

P 
b 

t 
d 

k 

8 

Fricatives 

(-voice) 

(+voice) 

f 

V 

e 
d- 

s 
z 

w 

s 

V 

z 

h 

Affricates 

(-voice) 

(+voice) 

V 

C 

y 
J 

Mester,  Vol.  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  237 


In  Spanish,  the  obstnients  have  one  phonetic  manifestation  that  is  an  unaspirated 
noncontinuant  realization.  They  can  occur  in  syllable-final  position  within  a  word 
and  they  do  not  occur  in  word-finally.  Dei  Rosario  (1970)  and  Guitart(1976)  explain 
that  even  in  syllable  final,  obstnients  normally  neutralize  in  point  of  articulation.  In 
some  cases  they  can  be  entirely  deleted. 

Example: 

b  d  g  — ^>  1)    d"  ^    /elsewhere 

[laUela] 

b  — >  0  /_sC 

í+obstment,  -voice] 
[substrato]  — >  [sustrato] 
In  English,  obstnients  are  aspirated  in  syllable-initial  position  preceding  a 
stressed  vowel.  MacDonald  points  out  that  English  obstnients  can  occur  in  onset  or 
coda  position  syllable  within  a  word  or  word-finally. 
Example: 

boxer  tub 

cabbage  cab 

Realization  of/v/as/B/or/t/ 

In  the  case  of  obstnients,  MacDonald  adds  that  in  parts  of  México,  Cuba,  Puerto 
Rico  and  the  United  States,  /b/  frequently  is  realized  as  /v/.  Penfield  and  Omstein- 
Galicia  (1985)  in  their  study  show  that  among  Chicano  English  speakers  it  is 
difficult  at  times  to  distinguish  a  /v/  from  a  /b/.  While  conducting  my  own  study  with 
Los  Angeles  Chícanos  I  also  noticed  that  with  words  such  as  'levei',  'invited'  and 
'vacation',  many  of  the  speakers  often  pronounced  them  as:  lébel,  inbited  and 
bacation.  This  leads  me  to  believe  that  some  Chicano  English  speakers  were  simply 
applying  the  Spanish  phonemic  realization  of /"b/  for  both  the  orthographic  /b/  and 
/v/.  This  would  seem  that  the  interchange  of  /b/  and  /v/  is  most  likely  a  case  of 
transfer. 

Arguments  against  interference 

The  idea  of  interference  or  transfer  has  often  lead  Chicano  English  to  be 
characterized  as  poorly  spoken  English.  Penfield  and  Omstein-Galicia  point  out 
that  it  was  not  until  1970  that  new  light  was  shed  on  this  subject.  While  observing 
and  studying  Chicano  English,  researchers  began  to  question  whether  the  concept 
of  interference  was  really  that  appropriate.  Garland  Bills  (1977)  argüe  the  follow- 
ing:  "But  the  speech  of  very  many  Chícanos  appears  to  exhibit  clear  signs  of 
temporal  stability,  structural  consistency,  and  internai  (not  just  externai)  predict- 


238  Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English 


ability.  In  other  words,  it  seems  to  represem  a  systematically  distinct  competence 
-a  dialect.  (Penfield  &  Omstein,  p.  34)" 

One  of  Bills'  main  arguments  against  interference,  which  is  also  the  focus  of  my 
paper,  is  the  factthatmany  linguistics  aspects  of  Chicano  English  arenotpredictable 
when  we  contrast  and  compare  Spanish  and  English.  At  the  phonologic  levei,  Bill 
brings  to  our  attention  the  particular  uses  of  'ts'  and  's'  as  an  example  to  confirm 
the  fact  that  the  argument  of  interference  is  no  longer  valid.  He  points  out  that  among 
Chícanos  one  can  frequently  hear  an  exchange  between  the  'ts'  and  the  's'.  With 
words  like  'Check'  one  hears  'Sheck'  or  'Sheynsh'  for  change.  With  these 
examples,  Bill  concludes  that  "a  contrastive  analysis  of  Spanish  and  Enghsh  would 
predict  the  opposite,  since  most  dialects  of  Spanish  do  not  even  have  the  s  sound". 
(Penfield  &  Omstein,  p.  34) 

Alternation  of  tsands 

Among  Hnguists,  there  are  several  debates  trying  to  explain  the  free  substitu- 
tion  of  the  ts  for  the  s  and  vice- versa.  One  of  the  two  main  theories  in  this  field  is 
the  process  of  merger  proposed  by  Omstein.  The  other  theory,  the  process  of 
unmerger  is  proposed  by  Wald.  Omstein  believes  that  these  two  sounds  are  being 
confused  because  they  are  actually  merging.  The  result  we  are  oblaining  is  actually 
varying  degrees  of  these  two  phonemes.  Wald,  on  the  other  hand,  claims  the  exact 
opposite.  He  beheves  that  ts  and  s  are  in  the  process  of  being  distinguished  thus,  at 
times,  they  are  confused.  Still  others  believe  that  the  altemation  of  ts  and  s  is  simply 
due  to  confusión. 

Opposing  arguments  like  these  led  to  a  more  careful  look  at  standard  Spanish 
and  English.  In  standard  Spanish  s  sound  does  not  exist.  The  interference  explana- 
tion  does  not  apply  here  because  it  could  not  explain  the  reason  for  words 
pronounced  "sheck"  when  it  clearly  required  a  ts  sound.  Further  investigations 
suggested  that  sociolinguistic  factor  must  be  taken  into  account.  One  finds  such 
altemation  of  ts  and  s  not  only  among  Chícanos  but  also  in  Spanish  of  non-English 
speakers  along  the  border.  Such  a  case  leads  Penfield  and  Omstein  to  question, 
"does  this  suggest  that  language  contact  with  English  has  permeated  even  the 
monolingual  Spanish-speaking  community  or  is  there  a  possibility  that  this  speech 
trait  represents  contact  with  regional  varieties  of  Spanish  which  do  indeed  have  this 
pronunciation?"(Penfield  &  Omstein,  p.  40) 

Although  an  answer  has  not  yet  been  found,  many  hnguists  have  resorted  to 
universal  linguistic  tendencies  to  explain  such  a  case.  The  result  is  the  following, 
"while  most  languages  of  the  world  which  have  ts  also  have  sh,  the  reverse  is  not 
tme."  (Penfield  &  Omstein,  p.  40)  This  means  that  languages  that  have  the  ts  sound 
will  have  the  tendency  to  produce  its  counterpart,  the  s  sound.  Such  an  explanation 
would  account  for  the  altemation  of  ts  and  s  in  Chicano  Enghsh. 


Mester,  VoL  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  239 


Discussion  of  traits 

In  my  interest  to  develop  a  better  understanding  of  the  altemation  of  consonan  ts 
such  as  ts  and  s,  I  begin  my  investigation  by  looking  at  its  segmentai  structure  with 
the  help  of  Katamba's  book  An  introduction  to  Phonology. 

At  the  segmentai  structure  ts  and  s  are  described  as  foUows: 


(Affricate) 

c 

/V 

t         s 
[-cont]     [+cont] 

Relevant  trait  to  distinguish  ts  from  s  is: 


c 
[+cont] 


From  this  segmentai  structure  of  ts,  I  proceed  to  look  at  its  syllable  building 
levei.  A  word  such  as  'Chicago'  is  described  as  follow: 


Chicago 

s  s  s 

/\    /\    A 

C       V       C       V         C         V 

s     i      k    a      g      o 


Methods 

Three  subjects  were  enrolled  in  this  study  (2  female  and  1  male).  Ali  subjects 
were  bom  in  the  Los  Angeles  área  and  were  between  the  ages  of  20-25. 

Subjects  were  then  asked  to  read  a  reading  sample  that  contains  words  that 
exhibit  Chicano  English  variation.  (Appendix  1)  These  words  were  presented  in  a 
paragraph  and  as  individual  words.  The  paragraph  was  used  to  demónstrate  any 
variation  that  may  occur  in  a  context  of  narrating  a  text.  The  individual  words  were 
used  to  test  if  such  variation  was  influenced  by  the  position  of  the  consonant  in  a 
given  word  or  phrases. 


240  Consonantal  Variaíions  in  Chicano  English 


Results 

From  the  data  gathered  above,  the  following  results  can  be  ascertained.  In 
words  such  as  chapd  and  bachelor,  using  the  CV  phonology  model  the  results  are 
as  follows: 

Word:  Chapei 
Altemation  from  ts  — >  s 

Standard  English  Chicano  English 


t^l  sapl 

A  A 

s    s  s    s 

C  V  C  C*  C  V  c  c* 

4111  1 1  1 1 

t  s  a  p 1  sapl 

c*  syllabic  nucleus 

From  the  above  model,  we  observe  that  m  standard  English  (StE)  the  onset  is 
branching  while  in  Chicano  English  (ChE)  the  onset  becomes  non-branching.  We 
exhibit  a  simplification  of  the  onset  that  seems  inclined  to  maintain  the  model  CV 
(canonical  syllable). 


Word:  Bachelor 
Altemation  from  ts  — >  s 

StE  ChE 


bats'lor  bas'lor 

I  l\  l\\ 

s    s    s  s    s    s 

Al/K  Ai/K 

cvccvc  cvccvc 

I  MJ  I  I  I  Ml  I  I 

b  atsl  o  r  b  a  s  1  o  r 


In  StE  the  rhyme  is  branching  while  in  ChE,  the  rhyme  becomes  non-branching. 


Mester,  VoL  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii.  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  241 


In  ChE  the  rhyme  is  simplified.  This  example  shows  that  such  a  simplification  can 
occur  both  at  the  onset  and  at  the  rhyme. 

Word:  Shoes 
Altemation  from  s  — >  ts 

StE  ChE 

suus  tsuus 

I  I 

s  s 

C     V     C  C     V     c 

/  A  \  /Al 

SUUS  tSuus 


In  StE  the  onset  exhibits  no  branching  while  in  ChE  we  observe  the  opposite 
effect.  This  phenomenon  might  at  first  lead  one  to  believe  that  the  altemation  of  t5 
to  s  and  vice- versa  is  unpredictable.  However,  from  my  data  1  show  that  out  of  the 
sample  words  provided  in  my  survey,  the  altemation  from  t§  to  S  was  by  far  more 
frequent  than  the  altemation  from  S  to  t5.  The  frequency  of  tS — >S  over  § — >t5 
altemation  is  4:1.  The  data  obtained  seems  to  reaffírm  what  Universal  Linguists 
have  pointed  ouL  If  a  language  already  has  the  tS  sound,  it  will  likely  adopt  it 
counterpart,  the  s  sound;  however,  the  reverse  is  not  necessarilly  tme.  The  fact  that 
some  ChE  speakers  actually  do  altemate  5  with  ts  although  infrequendy ,  only  makes 
us  realize  that  there  are  multi-causal  factors  that  are  not  always  phonologically 
based. 

Some  tendencies 

In  the  t2  to  2  altemation  we  observe  that  such  changes  are  associated  with 
particular  vowels.  From  the  list  of  words  below,  it  can  be  ascertained  that  tS  tends 
to  change  to  ?  when  located  near  a  [-high]  vowel. 

Words: 

Bachelor 

Impeachment  ts — ^>  S  /  _v ;  #_ 

Check  [-high,  ] 

Ch^)el 

As  for  the  s  to  t§  altemation  the  following  is  derived: 


242  Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English 


Chicago 

Shoes 

s— >  tS/   v;# 

Sheriff 

[-low] 

Since  the  s  to  ts  altemation  is  rather  infrequent,  although  with  its  due  tendency, 
I  continue  to  look  at  some  sociolinguistic  effects  that  need  to  be  addressed  in  order 
to  see  the  complexity  of  the  matter  at  hand. 

Sociolii^uistic  Effects 

Marguerite  MacDonald  (1989)  and  many  other  linguists  attribute  these  observ- 
able variations  in  ChE  to  several  factors  that  merit  further  study.  MacDonald 
presents  the  many  factors  that  contribute  to  variations  in  a  language  that  often  are 
overlooked  in  research.  I  shall  sunmiarize  her  observations  in  the  following  list: 

1)  Age 

2)  Gender 

3)  Choice  of  language  spoken  at  home 

4)  Socioeconomicdifferences  and  job  status 

5)  Education 

6)  Personal  factors 

MacDonald  explains  that  the  age  at  which  children  begin  to  leam  English  and/ 
or  Spanish  does  affect  the  acuteness  of  their  hearing  and  their  ability  to  discem 
sounds.  Men  and  women  due  to  cultural  background  do  receive  unequal  exposure 
to  languages.  Men  because  of  their  involvement  in  a  labor  force  tend  to  be  bilingual. 
And  as  for  the  socioeconomic  differences  and  education,  these  factors  have 
tremendous  impact  on  language  variations. 

I  distinguish  the  personal  factor  in  particular  because  in  my  investigation  I 
noticed  that  the  personality  of  my  informants  had  a  strong  effect  on  their  speech. 
Some  informants  were  self-conscious  when  speaking  English.  They  would  speak 
softly  and  when  they  encountered  words  that  they  felt  uncomfortable  pronouncing, 
they  often  said  them  quickly.  Although  I  can  see  the  effect  this  has  in  language 
variability,  it  is  very  difficult  to  research  and  study. 

Conclusión 

Evidently,  there  are  phonologic  differences  between  Chicano  English  and 
standard  English.  However,  it  is  no  longer  adequate  to  assume  that  the  characteris- 
tics  of  Chicano  Enghsh  are  a  consequence  of  Spanish,  even  when  it  exhibits 
variations  from  the  monolingual  English  community.  Clearly  there  are  forces  at 
work  to  accentuate  these  differences,  but  most  importantly,  there  are  observable 
tendencies  that  show  that  there  is  a  distinct  competence.  With  respect  to  the 
consonantal  variation  there  is  yet  no  microanalysis  done  in  this  aspect.  Hopeftilly 


Mester,  Vol  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &  Vol.  xxiii,  No.  1  (Spring,1994)  243 


until  much  more  extensive  work  is  done,  it  will  continue  to  be  the  subject  of  much 
attention  and  debate. 

Joyce  Ho 

University  of  California,  Los  Angeles 


Appendíx  1:  Reading  Sample 

To  plan  for  my  brother'  s  bachelor  party  I  went  to  an  ATM  machine  to  get  some 
cash.  (baselor) 

For  the  bachelor  party,  Tm  preparing  his  favorite  dish  which  is  chicken. 

The  party  was  great  until  someone  poured  a  bottle  of  whisky  into  the  fruit 
punch.  People  started  pushing  each  other  and  many  of  my  bookshelves  fell. 

The  house  was  such  a  mess,  much  of  the  decoration  was  trashed. 

(mu§) 

Because  of  the  incident  at  the  bachelor' s  party,  many  of  his  firiends  didn' t  show 
up  at  the  chapei. 
(sapel) 

After  organizing  the  bachelor  party  I  went  on  a  long  vacaíion. 

(bacaSion) 

-Michigan  +Chicago 

-machine  *bachelor 

-shampoo  -cash 

♦chapei  *impeachment 

♦check  *poaching 

-a  chair  *a  chimney 

+shoes  -sheets 

-punch  *such 

-bashful  -cashier 

*    Allemation  from  t2  to  s 
-   Do  not  exhibit  any  variation 
+   Altemation  from  S  to  ts 


244  Consonantal  Variations  in  Chicano  English 


WORKS  CITED 


Bjarkman,  P.  &  Hammond,  R.  M.American  Spanish  PronuncUaioru  Washington:  Georgetown 

University  Press,  1989. 
Katamba,  F.  An  introduction  to  Phonology.  New  York:  Longman,  1989. 
Omstein-Galicia,  Jabob.  Form  and function  in  Chicano  English.  Massachusetts:  Newbury 

House  Publishers  Inc.,  1981. 
Penfield,  Joyce  &  Ornstein-Galicia,  Jacob.  Chicano  English:  An  ethnic  contact  dialect. 

Philadelphia:  John  Benjamins  Publishing  Company,  1985. 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  i&Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  245 


REVIEW 


HERNÁNDEZ-GUTIÉRREZ,  MANUEL  DE  JESÚS.  El  colonialismo  interno  en 
la  narrativa  chicana:  el  Barrio,  el  Anti-Barrio  y  el  Exterior.  Tempe,  Arizona: 
Bilingual  Press,  1994. 262  páginas. 


Esta  investigación,  que  empezó  como  tesis  doctoral  en  la  universidad  de 
Stanford,  se  publica  como  parte  de  un  esfuerzo  mayor  por  reflexionar  sobre  el  rol 
sociocultural  de  la  narrativa  chicana.  Desde  una  perspectiva  anglosajona,  el 
instrumento  metodológico  que  emplea  Hernández-Gutiérrez  podría  considerarse 
anacrónico  por  el  descrédito  de  los  discursos  políticos  descolonizadores,  como 
demuestra  Richard  Roth  sobre  la  experiencia  colonial.  Peroresultaque  la  perspectiva 
de  Hernández-Gutiérrez  no  cae  en  el  juego  despolitizador  de  dicha  crítica  que  se 
centra  en  la  problemática  discursiva  misma,  sino  en  la  interdependencia  inestable 
de  la  producción  cultural  con  las  formaciones  socioeconómicas  que  la  originan.  Esta 
investigación  demuestra  que  el  método  es  válido  si  se  adecúa  a  su  objeto  de  estudio. 
Valiéndose  de  la  categoría  de  colonialismo  interno  de  sociólogos  e  historiadores 
(Joan  W.  Moore,  Rodolfo  Acuña,  Edward  Murguía,  Guillermo  Flores,  Carlos 
Muñoz  y  Mario  Barrera),  Hernández-Gutiérrez  describe  la  narrativa  chicana  como 
una  alternativa  a  la  asimilación  a  la  culüira  angloamericana.  Las  dificultades 
metodológicas  para  analizar  este  fenómeno  de  asimilación,  son  enormes  debido  a 
su  complejidad  actual.  Por  esta  razón,  la  premisa  de  este  trabajo  tiene  que  ver  con 
una  visión  pluralista  de  la  sociedad  estadounidense  cuya  estabilidad  política 
también  descansa,  como  lo  demuestran  investigaciones  recientes  (consultar  pOT 
ejemplo  los  trabajos  de  John  C.  Harles  y  de  David  M.  Reimers),  sobre  el  aporte  real 
que  los  inmigrantes  hacen  desde  su  heterogeneidad  émica. 

El  primer  c^ítulo  ofrece  un  panorama  sociocultural  de  la  narrativa  que  brinda 
una  autorrepresentación  a  la  comunidad  chicana,  principalmente  en  la  década  de  los 
años  setenta,  en  el  sudoeste  y  medioeste  de  los  Estados  Unidos.  Sin  caer  en 
reduccionismos,  este  análisis  permite  comprobar  que  los  chícanos  pertenecen  a  la 
sociedad  estadounidense  como  segmentos  subordinados  de  atribución  clasista 
(Barrera)  y  que  su  üteratura,  por  ello,  se  centra  primeramente  en  el  tema  de  la 
identidad,  liberándose  de  los  prejuicios  críticos  que  la  clasificaban  como  un 


246  Review 


subgénero  de  la  literatura  anglosajona. 

El  segundo  capítulo  estudia  la  traducción  histórica  de  un  proyecto  ideológico 
de  autorrepresentación.  Esta  conciencia  colectiva  es  promovida  por  las  actividades 
de  revistas,  editoras  y  círculos  literarios  chicanos  donde  se  destacan  los  narradores 
de  los  setenta  (Tomás  Rivera,  Nick  C.  Vaca,  Miguel  Méndez-M.,  Osear  Zeta 
Acosta,  Ron  Arias,  J.L.  Navarro,  Richard  Vasquez,  Estela  Portillo,  Rudolfo  A. 
Anaya,  Rolando  R.  Hinojosa-S.  y  Alfredo  de  la  Torre).  Basándose  en  el  modelo  de 
Fierre  Macherey  (A  Theory  ofLiterary  Production),  Hernández-Gutiérrez  articula 
los  elementos  que  hacen  posible  la  representación  ideológica  chicana:  el  sujeto 
narrador,  los  objetos  temáticos  matrices  (el  viaje,  la  escritura  y  la  descolonización) 
y  la  fábula  de  quién  soy,  así  como  la  reformulación  de  los  niveles  de  figuración  de 
esta  autorrepresentación:  el  mito  revelador  de  Aztlán  y  los  espacios  estructurantes 
(el  Barrio,  el  Anti-Barrio  y  el  Exterior).  La  convergencia  de  estos  elementos  permite 
el  surgimiento  de  un  nuevo  género  literario  chicano:  la  narrativa  de  la  autoidentidad. 

Como  dato  interesante,  a  diferencia  de  la  dispersión  editorial  de  los  setenta, 
Hernández-Gutiérrez  observa  que  la  narrativa  chicana  en  los  años  ochenta  impulsa 
reimpresiones  de  clásicos,  reediciones  de  los  principales  narradores,  ediciones  de 
mujeres,  obra  crítica,  de  esta  manera  abriendo  espacio  a  otras  narrativas  como  la 
neorriqueña  y  cubanoamericana,  así  como  promoviendo  la  participación  de  narradores 
latinoamericanos  y  la  interacción  con  los  medios  editoriales  angloamericanos  del 
este.  En  el  capítulo  tres  se  analiza  el  proyecto  de  asimilación  a  través  del  recuento 
de  las  perspectivas  de  autorrepresentación  que  el  discurso  narrativo  angloamericano 
había  hegemonizado.  Se  concentra  en  un  análisis  de  esta  representación  ideológica 
y  su  figuración  en  el  Pocho  de  José  Antonio  Villarreal;  aunque  Hernández- 
Gutiérrez  reitera  varias  veces  que  Villarreal  se  considera  "American  writer", 
destaca  los  avances  que  el  espacio  pochista  significa  para  el  proyecto  chicano. 

El  cuarto  capítulo  se  enfoca  en  el  espacio  migrante  del  sudoeste  con  el  estudio 
ác.Ynoselo  tragó  la  tierra  de  Tomás  Rivera.  Hernández-Gutiérrez  destaca  cómo, 
a  partir  de  la  narración  centrada  en  los  avatares  de  los  trabajadores  migrantes  del 
sudoeste,  se  alcanza  la  condición  del  discurso  narrativo  mexicanoestadounidense: 
"trabajador  migrante,  subordinado,  residente  del  Barrio,  peregrino,  en  conflicto  con 
el  Anti-Barrio,  desconocido  en  el  Exterior  -  miembro  de  una  colonia  interna  -  pero 
con  la  autoafirmación  cultural  y  el  derecho  a  la  autoimagen"  (141). 

En  el  capítulo  cinco,  Hernández-Gutiérrez  analiza  Peregrinos  de  Aztlán  de 
Miguel  Méndez  para  resaltar  una  evolución  en  el  proyecto  ideológico  al  desarrollar 
el  espacio  indigenista  como  base  de  su  necesaria  crítica  social  y  perspectiva  utópica. 
El  peregrino  chicano  que  no  se  ubica  en  la  sociedad  angloamericana  ni  en  la 
mexicana,  halla  en  el  rescate  de  la  tradición  oral  yaqui  y  mestiza  una  representación 
espacial  más  accesible  que  le  permite  resistir  la  explotación  del  Anti-Barrio  y  la 
dependencia  económica  del  Exterior.  A  pesar  de  la  precariedad  del  Barrio,  el 
chicano  ha  avanzado  hacia  una  ubicación  sociocultural  precisa. 

En  el  capítulo  seis,  se  analiza  el  sistema  de  [personajes]  como  un  sistema  de 
signos  dinámico.  La  categoría  de  [personajes] ,  al  estar  entre  corchetes,  suspende  por 


Mester,  Voi  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  247 


un  momento  su  significado  o  contenido  tradicional,  fijo  y  estereotipado.  En  este 
sistema,  el  individuo  [personaje]  es  más  un  tipo  que  instituye  su  representatividad 
a  través  de  una  tipología  semiótica  que  toma  en  cuenta  la  dinámica  y  las 
transfonnaciones  de  los  roles:  El  pocho  como  una  expresión  individualista  del  Anü- 
Barrio,  que  se  carateriza  por  su  pasividad  colectiva  y  su  deseo  de  asimilación;  el 
mexicano  como  expresión  del  Exterior,  del  subdesarrollo,  de  la  rigidez  social  y  de 
la  reificación  cultural;  El  American,  como  representante  del  Anti-B  arrio  que 
alcanza  el  desarrollo,  la  movilidad  social  y,  por  supuesto,  la  asimilación;  el  chicano, 
como  encamación  de  los  principios  ideológicos  del  Barrio:  su  autodeterminación 
y  su  derecho  de  pertenencia  a  una  comunidad  sin  opresión.  Hernández-Gutiérrez 
analiza  cómo  funciona  este  sistema  de  [personajes]  en  la  obra  de  Villarreal,  Rivera 
y  Méndez.  Quizás  si  el  modelo  gremasiano  utilizado  hubiera  aprovechado  de  la 
semiótica  de  las  intersubjetividades  de  Landowski,  Hernández-Gutiérrez  habría 
formulado  más  detalladamente  su  crítica  a  la  asimilación  en  sus  dispositivos 
centrales.  Aún  falta  una  formulación  de  los  mecanismos  de  descolonización  para 
evitar  que  el  proyecto  chicano  caiga  y  se  estanque  en  los  mismos  errores  de  los 
nacionalismos  latinoamericanos. 

Sus  conclusiones  confirman  la  necesidad  de  profundizar  la  investigación,  pues 
el  proyecto  ideológico  de  autodeterminación  no  termina.  Es  un  proceso  de  búsquedas 
que  no  se  agota  en  un  sólo  género  como  el  desarrollado  por  Rivera  y  Méndez.  Por 
ello,  Hernández  anuncia  un  próximo  estudio  de  Memories  ofthe  Alhambra  de  Nash 
Candelaria,  de  The  Road  ío  tamazunchale  de  Ron  Arias  y  de  Generaciones  y 
semblanzas  de  Rolando  Hinojosa. 

La  documentada  bibliografía  final  ofrece  un  proüjo  panorama  de  la  dirección 
de  las  investigaciones  futuras  sobre  el  rol  de  la  narrativa  chicana.  Sin  retroceder 
hasta  las  crónicas  de  Alvar  Núflez  Cabeza  de  Vaca  como  hacen  otras  versiones  de 
la  tradición  chicana,  muestra  la  continuidad  evolutiva  desde  Un  cadáver  sobre  el 
trono  de  A.  A.  Orihuela  (1854)  hasta  la  narrativa  de  los  80  (de  la  diferenciación  del 
sujeto  chicano)  y  de  los  90  (de  la  década  del  multiculturalismo).  El  recuento  de 
antologías,  de  textos  narrativos,  de  60  tesis  doctorales  y  de  bibUograf ía  crítica  sobre 
esta  narrativa  chicana,  además  de  los  complementos  de  otras  literaturas  y  de  la 
historia  y  sociología  sobre  el  mexicanoestadounidense,  refuerzan  la  hipótesis  sobre 
el  desarrollo  de  la  autodeterminación  y  su  próxima  integración  al  cambiante  mundo 
angloamericano. 

Por  supuesto  que  esta  integración  implica  una  superación  de  la  colonización 
cultural  a  la  que  elAa  chicano/a  está  sometido/a,  en  la  medida  en  que,  para  afirmar 
y  desarrollar  una  identidad  colectiva,  se  necesita  cierta  presencia  inmediata  de  los 
otros  (Landowski  116).  Este  aspecto  de  la  investigación  merece  complementarse 
con  el  estudio  de  la  problemática  de  las  diferentes  colectividades  latinas  que  en  vez 
de  asimilarse,  buscan  una  integración  en  una  sociedad  pluralista.  Las  investigadoras 
de  la  U  de  New  México,  Santa  Arias  y  Erlinda  González-Berry  comprueban  las 
líneas  de  fuerza  del  análisis  de  Hemández-Gutiérrez  en  su  panorama  sobre  "la 
escritura  latina"  en  los  Estados  Unidos  y  destacan  la  importancia  de  la  literatura 


248  Review 


chicana  (653-63).  Por  primera  vez  esta  aproximación  plural  se  publica  en  un  manual 
de  literatura  latinoamericana.  Hernández-Gutiérrez  también  toma  en  cuenta  esta 
perpectiva  respecto  a  la  relación  de  la  comunidad  chicana  con  las  otras  comunidades 
caribeñas,  centroamericanas  y  sudamericanas,  pero  no  la  desarrolla  a  fondo,  porque 
su  objetivo  es  analizar  en  profundidad  los  núcleos  ideológicos  y  culturales  de  la 
identidad  chicana.  Tanto  su  discurso  crítico,  como  el  de  Arias  y  González-Berry,  no 
excluyen  la  tarea  de  textuaüzar  y  definir  la  identidad  de  los  agentes  productores  de 
cultura.  Por  un  lado,  Hernández-Gutiérrez  cuesta  por  superar  los  dispositivos  de 
segregación  y  de  asimilación  de  la  cultura  hegemónica.  Por  el  otro,  es  consciente  de 
que  esa  búsqueda  no  sólo  se  da  en  el  nivel  estético  de  una  narrativa,  sino  en  los 
niveles  socioculturales  donde  la  integración  signifique  vivir  la  identidad  colectiva 
para  multiplicar  los  beneficios  que  se  derivan  de  su  misma  alteridad. 

El  difícil  balance  de  fuerzas,  proyectos  y  posibilidades  de  la  comunidad 
chicana  en  los  Estados  Unidos  al  menos  cuenta  con  un  sólido  punto  de  referencia 
que  apenas  se  conocía:  la  propia  tradición  cultural.  Hernández-Gutiérrez  tiene  el 
mérito  de  llamar  la  atención  a  la  comunidad  chicana  y  a  otras  comunidades 
culturales,  que  ese  punto  necesario  de  referencia  debe  preparar  con  más  cuidado  sus 
estrategias  de  lucha  contra  el  sistemático  abuso,  así  como  debe  animar  la  búsqueda 
de  la  justa  convivencia.  Sus  reflexiones  y  su  análisis  de  la  narrativa  chicana  brindan 
al  lector  un  punto  de  vista  constructivo  desde  la  propia  palabra,  móvil,  "zafada"  de 
los  moldes,  siempre  buscando  el  encuentro  original. 


Roberto  Foms-Broggi 
Arizona  State  University 


OBRAS  CITADAS 

Arias,  Santa  y  Erlinda  González-Berry.  "Latino  Writing  in  the  United  States".  Handbook  of 

Latín  American  Literature.  2da  Ed.  David  W.  Foster,  Ed.  New  York-London: 

Garland  Publishing,  Inc.,  1992.  649-85. 
Harles,  John  C.  Politics  in  the  Lifeboat.  Inmigrants  and  the  American  Democraiic  Order. 

Boulder-San  Francisco-Oxford:  Westview  P,  1993. 
Landowski,  Eric.  "Ellos  y  nosotros:  notas  para  una  aproximación  semiótica  a  algunas  figuras 

de  la  alteridad  social".  Trad.  Silvia  Tubert.  Revista  de  occidente  140  (1993):  98- 

118. 
Reimers,  David  M.  Still  the  Golden  Door.  The  Third  World  Comes  to  America.  2da  Ed.  New 

York:  Columbia  UP,  1992. 
Roth,  Richard.  "The  Colonial  Experience  and  Its  Postmodem  Fate.  Review  of  Henry  Louis 

Gates,  Ed.,  Race,  Writing  and  Culture".  Salgamundi  84  (1989):  248-65. 


\fester,  Vol  xxii.  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &VoL  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  249 


Contributor's  Page 


FANNY  ARANGO-KEETH  was  bom  in  Lima,  Peru.  She  received  her  B.A.  in 
Translatíon  and  the  title  of  Licenciada  in  Translation  from  Ricardo  Palma  Univer- 
sity  (Lima).  She  has  published  literary  translatíons  in  a  variety  of  magazines.  She 
is  currently  finishing  her  Ph.D.  at  Arizona  State  University  in  the  Department  of 
Languages  and  Literatures-Spanish  Section.  Recently,  she  has  been  preparing  a 
contribution  on  resistance  literature  for  the  Encyclopedia  of  Latin  American 
Literature  and  a  study  of  Ana  María  Shúa'  s  writing  for  the  Latin  American  Jewish 
Writers:  A  Criticai  Dictionary.  Her  artícle  "Mercedes  Cabello  de  Carbonera: 
Historia  de  una  conspiración  cultural"  will  appear  in  the  December  issue  of  Revista 
hipánica  moderna. 

ALICIA  ARRIZÓN  is  an  Assistant  Professor  at  the  University  of  California, 
Riverside.  This  academic  year  she  is  a  visiting  scholar  at  UCLA  in  the  Chicano 
Studies  Research  Center.  Currently  she  is  co-editing  a  volume  on  Latina  theatre  and 
performance,  Latinas  On  Stage:  Criticism  and  Practice  (Berkeley:  Third  Woman 
Press).  Her  work  in  progress  deals  with  the  intersection  of  feminism,  theatre  and 
performance  within  the  Latina  cultural  experience  and  within  the  politics  of 
representation. 

MARY  PAT  BRAD  Y  is  a  doctoral  candidate  in  English  Literature  at  the  University 
of  California,  Los  Angeles,  where  she  received  her  C.Phil.  and  M.  A.  She  eamed  her 
B.A.  in  English  from  Arizona  State  University.  Her  área  ofspecialization  is  Chicana 
Literature.  Ms.  Brady  is  presently  working  on  her  dissertation  on  public  policy,  the 
construction  of  space,  and  narrative. 

JUAN  DANIEL  BUSCH  recently  completed  his  B.A.  at  the  University  of  Califor- 
nia, Los  Angeles,  majoring  in  EngUsh,  with  a  minor  in  Chicana/o  Studies.  He  is 
currently  working  on  his  M.A.  in  the  Department  of  Enghsh  at  Comell  University, 
specializing  in  U.S.  Latina/o  literature  and  Postcolonial  literature. 

HÉCTOR  CALDERÓN  is  an  Associate  Professor  in  the  Department  of  Spanish  and 
Portuguese,  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles,  where  he  teaches  courses  in 
Spanish  American  and  Chicano  Uterature.  He  has  written  numerous  articles  on  the 


250  Contributor's  Page 


narrative  traditíons  of  the  United  States  and  Latin  America.  He  is  the  author  of 
Conciencia  y  lenguaje  en  el  "Quijote  "  y  "El  obsceno  pájaro  de  la  noche"  (1987) 
and  coeditor  of  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano  Literature,  Culture 
andldeology  (1991).  He  is  currently  completing  Contemporary  Chicano  Litera- 
ture:  A  Tradition  and  Its  Forms. 

ANGIE  CHABRAM-DERNERSESIAN,  Associate  Professor  of  Chicano  Litera- 
ture  at  the  University  of  California,  Davis,  teaches  courses  in  Chicano  literature  and 
criticai  theory.  She  is  coeditor  ofChicana/o  Cultural  Representations:  Reframing 
Criticai  Discourses,  a  special  issue  of  Cultural  Studies  4-3  (1990).  She  is  coeditor 
for  another  forthcoming  special  issue  of  Cultural  Studies  on  U.S.  Latinas/os.  She  is 
currently  completing  a  volume  of  interviews  with  selected  Chicano  scholars, 
"Conversations  with  Chicano  Critics:  A  Portrait  ofa  Counter-Discourse^ 

ROBERTO  FORNS  BROGGI  is  currently  a  gradúate  student  at  Arizona  State 
University,  working  on  his  Ph.D.  He  received  his  Licenciatura  from  the  Pontificia 
Universidad  Católica  del  Perú.  Mr.  Foms  Broggi  specializes  in  Latin  American 
Literature  and  is  presently  completing  his  doctoral  dissertation  on  the  poetry  of 
Roberto  Juarroz.  His  scholarly  publications  include:  "Notas  en  tomo  a  El  viaje  de 
Colón  contado  por  un  pájaro"  {Mester),  "La  lectura  como  actividad  vital" 
{Imaginario),  "Para  una  lectura  viva"  {Autoeducación),  and  his  textbookZ^n^Mo/^ 
y  literatura  4  (1987). 

JUANITA  HEREDIA,  who  received  her  B.A.  in  Engüsh  and  Spanish  Literature  at 
the  University  of  Califomia,  Berkeley,  is  adoctoral  student  of  Latin  American/U.S. 
Latino  Literature  at  the  University  of  Califomia,  Los  Angeles.  She  is  interested  in 
the  literary  and  social  history  of  women  writers  in  the  Américas  and  recently 
participated  in  the  First  Latina  Writers  Workshop  with  Helena  María  Viramontes. 
After  obtaining  a  fellowship  to  study  Quechua,  Ms.  Heredia  plans  to  investígate  the 
influence  of  Andean  music  in  the  works  of  the  Peruvian  José  María  Arguedas  in 
memory  of  his  death  25  years  ago. 

ELEUTERIA  HERNÁNDEZ  is  currently  a  doctoral  student  in  Chicana(o)  Latin 
American  Literature  at  the  University  of  Califomia,  Los  Angeles.  She  specializes 
in  the  Mexican  Califomia  narrative  in  the  early  1920s  from  a  historical  and  feminist 
perspective.  Ms.  Hernández  is  currently  working  on  an  article  about  Chicana/ 
Mexican  women' sjoumalism  on  both  sides  of  the  border. 

MANUEL  DE  JESÚS  HERNÁNDEZ-G.  is  an  Assistant  Professor  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Languages  and  Literatures  at  Arizona  State  University  where  he  also  is 
Faculty  Associate  at  the  Hispanic  Research  Center  and  editor  of  Revista  Apple.  He 
has  recently  pubüshed  El  colonialismo  interno  en  la  narrtiva  chicana:  El  Barrio, 
el  Anti-Barrio  y  el  Exterior  (1994).  "U.S.  Latina  Writers:  Cooperating  with 


Mester,  Vol.  xxii,  No.  2  (Fali,  1993)  &Vol.  xxiii,  No.l  (Spring,  1994)  251 


Chicanas  to  Face  Anglo  Society"  and  "Villarreal's  Clemente  Chacón  (1984):  A 
Precursor' s  Accomodationist  Dialogue"  stand  out  among  his  anides.  He  is  cur- 
rently  woricing  on  several  articles  on  Chicano  narrative  and  on  a  book  about  U.S. 
Latino  Literature  (Chicano,  AmeRican,  Cuban-American). 

PILAR  HERNÁNDEZ  is  a  Mas  ter 's  student  specializing  in  Contemporary  Latin 
America  Literature  at  the  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles.  She  received  her 
B.A.  at  the  University  of  Texas  at  Austin  majoring  in  both  French  and  Spanish 
Literature.  Ms.  Hernández  is  interested  in  Chicano  LiteraUire,  especially  that  of 
New  México  where  she  was  raised. 

TING-Pl  JOYCE  HO  received  her  B.A.  from  the  University  of  Caüfomia,  San 
Diego.  Bom  in  Taiwan,  Ms.  Ho  has  lived  in  Greece,  Bolivia,  Uruguay  and  the 
U.S. A.  She  recently  completed  her  M.A.  at  the  University  of  California,  Los 
Angeles,  majoring  in  Contemporary  Latin  American  Literature. 

BRIDGET  KEVANE  is  a  doctoral  candidate  in  the  Department  of  Spanish  and 
Portuguese  at  the  University  of  Caüfomia,  Los  Angeles,  where  she  received  her 
C.Phil..  She  received  her  B.A.  from  Sarah  Lawrence  CoUege  and  her  M.A.  from 
New  York  University.  Ms.  Kevane  specializes  in  Twentieth  Century  Latin  Ameri- 
can Literature  and  is  presently  working  on  her  dissertation.  Lately  she  has  published 
the  article  "El  viaje  en  los  diarios  de  Cristóbal  Colón  y  en  Los  pasos  perdidos  de 
Alejo  Carpentier"  and  collaborated  en  "Una  entrevista  con  Luisa  Valenzuela",  both 
in  Mester. 

JOSÉ  R.  LÓPEZ-MORÍN  received  his  B.A.  from  Califomia  State  University, 
Bakersfield  and  M.A.  from  the  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles  in  Chicano/ 
Latin  American  Literature.  A  doctoral  student  at  UCLA,  he  specializes  in  literary 
theory  and  history  of  the  Chicano  narrative.  He  is  also  working  on  a  novel  about  the 
migrant  community  in  the  San  Joaquín  Valley  while  teaching  Chicano  literature  at 
Cal  State  Bakersfield.  Mr.  López-Morín  has  been  dedicated  to  the  education  of 
migrant  children  for  the  past  eight  years. 

JOSÉ  RAMÓN  NÚÑEZ-ASTRAY  is  a  doctoral  candidate  in  the  Department  of 
Spanish  and  Portuguese  at  the  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles,  where  he 
received  his  C.Phil.  Mr.  Núñez  is  currently  working  on  his  dissertation  about 
"Narrative  volees  in  Gonzalo  de  Berceo'  s  Milagros  de  Nuestra  Señora''  During  the 
1993-94  academic  year  he  was  the  Editor-in-Chief  of  Mester.  He  received  his 
Licenciatura  in  Spanish  Philology  from  the  Universidad  Autónoma  de  Madrid  and 
worked  as  Catedrático  de  Bachillerato  of  Spanish  language  and  literature  for  ten 
years.  He  has  two  published  articles  on  Mario  Vargas  Llosa  in  Spain,  where  he  also 
wrote  and  directed  two  plays. 


252  Contributor'sPage 


MICHEL  NYMANN,  who  received  her  B .  A.  and  M.  A.  in  Spanish  at  the  University 
of  lowa,  lowa  City,  is  a  Ph.D.  student  in  the  Department  of  Foreign  Languages,  at 
Arizona  State  University,  Tempe.  She  has  two  translations  of  Chicano  literary 
criticism  published  in  Chicano  Border  Culture  and  Folklore  (San  Diego,  1992).  Ms. 
Nymann  has  also  published  "Further  Impücations  of  Macho  and  Hembra"  and 
"Female  Characterization  through  Language  in  Hasta  no  verte,  Jesús  Mío" 

CLAUDIA  PARODl  is  an  Assistant  Professor  in  the  Department  of  Spanish  and 
Portuguese  at  the  University  of  California,  Los  Angeles  where  she  also  received  her 
Ph.D.  She  received  her  M.  A.  from  Universidad  Nacional  Autónoma  de  México  and 
her  Licenciatura  from  Universidad  Iberoamericana.  Her  first  book  is  on  Mexican 
Colonial  Theater  and  her  second  one  on  the  state  of  the  art  of  Linguistics  in  México 
during  1970-1980.  She  just  finished  her  third  book,  Origins  ofLatin  American 
Spanish,  Vol.l,  which  is  devoted  to  the  reconstruction  ofLatin  American  Pronun- 
ciation.  It  will  be  published  by  UNAM.  She  is  currently  working  on  the  second 
volume  which  will  be  focused  on  the  syntactic  reconstruction  of  the  XVIth  Century 
Latin  American  Spanish.  She  has  several  articles  on  different  linguistic  topics. 

SILVIA  PELLAROLO  has  recently  completed  her  doctoral  dissertation,  Sainete 
criollo  / democracia  /  representación.  El  caso  de  Nemesio  Trejo,  at  the  University 
of  California,  Los  Angeles.  Her  present  research  focuses  on  the  representation  of 
women  in  tangos  and  the  popular  theater  of  B  uenos  Aires  during  the  second  decade 
of  this  century.  She  is  also  continuing  an  oral  project  with  the  Latin  American 
communities  of  Los  Angeles  at  the  Pico  Union  área. 

JOSÉ  S ALDÍVAR  is  Professor  of  Comparative  Ethnic  Cultures  at  the  University 
of  California,  Berkeley.  He  has  authored  numerous  articles  on  the  literatures  of  the 
Américas.  He  is  coeditor  of  Criticism  in  the  Borderlands:  Studies  in  Chicano 
Literature,  Culture,  and  Ideology  (1991)  and  author  of  The  Dialectics  of  Our 
America:  Genealogy,  Cultural  Critique,  and  Literary  History  (1991).  He  is  cur- 
rently completing  a  booklength  manuscript,  Border  Matters:  Sites  of  Cultural 
Contestation. 


EDITORIAL  BOARD 

José  Ramón  Núñez-Astray 
Editor-in-Chief 


Rosemarie  Nemes 
Pilar  Hernández 
Advertising  Editor 

Michael  Schuessler 
Yuzhuo  Qiu 
Canje  Editor 


Ana  Afzali 
David  Nordlum 


Eleuteria  Hernández 
Juan  Carlos  Ramírez 
Book  Review 

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Circulation  Editor 


EDITORIAL  ASSISTANTS 

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ADVISORS 

Rubén  Benítez  Verónica  Cortínez 

Efraín  Kristal  Joaquín  Gimeno  Casalduero 

Enrique  Rodríguez-Cepeda  Paul  C.  Smith 


We  wish  to  thank  the  Department  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  The  Gradúate  Student 
Association,  UCLA  and  Tito  Puente  for  making  this  issue  possible. 

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Copyright  (c)  1994  by  the  Regents  of  the  University  of  California. 
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ISSN  0160-2764