I chose this book in this month to celebrate Mexican Independence Day which occurs on September 16, the day in 1810 Fr. Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla declared the Grito de Dolores (Cry of Sorrows), initiating the fight to free México from Spanish rule. México has a long, rich history of great literature, both local and derived – Miguel Cervantes de Saavedra even lived in Morelia, Michoacán a short while! I am also trying to honor México by reading this in the original Spanish, to retrain my brain in what was never really good Spanish.
Pito Pérez is a classic picaresque character, a drunk, a dissolute liar, thief and general trouble-maker. In 1977 I spent the Summer in Morelia, Michoacán where some of the story takes place. I chaperoned college students that Summer, and stayed with the wonderful family of Ana Páramo de Castro; she actually knew Pérez who peddled thread, needles and other small household items door-to-door to feed his alcohol needs. She described him as “un hombre muy sucio,” a very filthy man. Rubén Romero’s description would amplify on that description.
The story opens in the bell-tower of a church in Pito’s hometown, Santa Clara del Cobre, a beautiful village south of Pátzquaro world famous for artisanal copper work. Pito is no part of that art. He is having an argument with the author over his situation and next moves. Ths continues for most of the book, as long as the author provides Pito with a few drinks after each Q and A session in the belfry. A second section of the book describes the Pito of 10 years on, as a peddler going from house-to-house in town after town, a Pito loaded down with a tinkling bell from every town to remind him of good times and bad in each location to announce his presence in the neighborhood. At the end, Pito dies and in his pocket is found his last will and testament, summarizing his feelings about the religious, rich and powerful who shredded his life and the lives of almost everyone else, and a few other gems. This Will in itself is an unforgettable milestone in world literature.
I also read this book to honor a now-dead friend who loved this book until I unfortunately relayed to him that Pérez was a real person, not a fictional character; he was heart-broken. Pito as a symbol was one thing, but as an actual person was quite another. While I know Pérez was a real person I have no idea which, if any, of the stories about him were factual. BTW, Loren Gaarder, my friend, was no fan of Cord’s translation into English; you had to read the original Spanish version to get the full flavor – el gran sabor. I agree. Rubén Romero’s Mexican Spanish has a certain zip to it that Cord’s translation does not have. On the other hand, Cord’s book in English includes a fine summary of, and tribute to, Rubén Romero’s life.
Reading the book will give a very brief but interesting look into the México of the last century, and a sympathy with the poor of the world.