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370 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1962
The rich were gathering together, tightening their social connections, making danger a reason for recreation.I've read a number of works that have tried to create a believable omniscience on the author's part, swooping and dipping into the psyche of each character in turn, a task at which most have miserably failed. I have also read works that avoided such entirely, and I'm sure, especially in the case of the more modern writing, that was often done moreso out of the desire to avoid controversy than anything else. This work here is what The Hunchback of Notre Dame wanted to be: fleshing out one and all, delving into the terror of a history in a way that makes the reader feel the blood dripping down their face, sinking so deeply into the story of the dehumanizer and the dehumanized that one begins to understand the lie that is that the progression of humanity is inextricably intertwined with the progression of time: not because there weren't people willing to do the good work, but that a structure of society that puts the power over many in the hands of a few, whether that be in the form of rule of law or the dictates of power or the exigencies of capitalism, will always render such true and inviolate. If you want more comparative namedrops, this being a far more historically grounded and gendered version Blood Meridian comes to mind regarding many of the main plot points. I was even reminded of Middlemarch for the sheer quality of the aforementioned ultra believable narrator of both individual egos and communal id, reservations about whenever the viewpoint switched to Mayan/Indian/Tzotzil notwithstanding. So, succinctly put, this is why I keep coming back to the Penguin Classics and its similarly-minded ilk: every so often, they fulfill their promises.
"You are a Coleto before you are a priest, and therefore you're accustomed to despising the Indians," Don Alfonso continued. "In a Christian, this is a lack of charity. And in a politician—because you are one whether or not we want to acknowledge it—it is a miscalculation."If this were a far more common kind of book, that quote would be the beginning of the protagonist's rise to glorious, self-satisfied, and mercenary stardom. Instead, you get the reality that the only thing more flippant than life is death. Indeed, the amount of attention paid to the more important characters is almost inversely proportionate to their social status, and the Mayan text Popol Vuh is put to extraordinary use in an amalgamation of historical truth, diabolical hierarchy, and the breed of affluence that, these days, seeks recreation in mass shootings and fervent prayers for zombie apocalypses. All the world's a stage, and video games did not invent the need for murderous gratification that inevitably spawns from a society that comes together only in competition, scapegoating, and self-serving vindictiveness. There are moments when Castellanos' imbibement of Weil shines through in a true sense of ideal humanization for all, but largely, the story is a familiar one to those who don't content themselves with false and repetitive reenactments of the US/French revolutions and instead look into why the Haitian Revolution did not reap what it sowed. Event passes into timeline, timeline passes into mythos, and much as Three Kingdoms's quality was amplified, rather than dampened, by a repetition that spanned over decades, Castellanos' tale founds itself upon four centuries, at minimum, of cyclical violence and survival, violence and survival, until everything told may as well be believed and everything believed is almost destined to become true. There will be a time for the heroes, but not until the sheep stop holding to the sheep eating society as their only true hope for civilization, for much as the development of good has rarely happened on the 'right' side of the law, appealing to the magnanimity of those in power has as good a success rate as sacrificing to the gods.
If the young priest's life hadn't been cut short, what then? He would have become a respectable parish priest, or perhaps reached a higher rank. And perhaps, from the seat of his power, whatever it was, he would have sent one or another of his subordinates to his death.It'd be easy to look at the title of this and expect an overabundance of pathos and general wallowing. I thought so myself going in, and the first few pages of mystic world building seems to confirm such until, without noticing, one is thrust into to the slow swell of social upheaval, seen from a multitude of angles and various levels of holism. If it wasn't already obvious, don't come here for triumph, retribution, resolution, 'peaceful coexistence', friendship, rehabilitation, just deserts, or clarity beyond who is living and who is dead. There is much literary material to be mined here, but there is also much to be said about certain sectors of humanity that are so prominent in their shaping of any society that they are in through thought, deed, and representation of themselves, that, once again, the term 'classic' must be tossed around a bit. The work is certainly not for everyone, and I don't blame people who prefer their indigenous narratives to be more of the Almanac of the Dead sort in terms of authorial (relating to the indigenous at any rate) credibility. Still, there are a number of moments that could easily stand on their own, strung along the line that spans between the butterfly's wing and the deluge, and all comes together in manner that comes off as much inspired as it does won through grinding determination and no small amount of rage. All in all, this is far from Castellanos' most popular work, and I look forward to finding her others.
To straighten out the legal code, change the political structure, replace the government. Fernando Ulloa knew that in Mexico these were not remote possibilities and that even the most insignificant privilege of the wealthy had never been attacked without unleashing a disproportionate, bloody and ultimately triumphant reaction.
At that point, the ranchers were prepared—in order to keep the peace, they said—to concede some improvements in the treatment of the peons. But what they would never tolerate was for the Indians to believe that they had won a right to anything.