In an unnamed town in the Ecuadorian Andes, a small wooden icon--La Virgen Pipona (the Potbellied Virgin)--conceals the documents that define the town's social history. That history recently has been dominated by the women of the Benavides family, a conservative clan and, not coincidentally, the caretakers of the Virgin. Their rivals are the Pandos, a family led by four old men who spend their days smoking in the park across from the Virgin's cathedral and offering revisionist versions of local and national events. When a military skirmish threatens the Virgin (and the secret in her famous belly), the Benavides women must scramble to preserve their place as local matriarchs--without alerting the old Pandos to the opportunity that might enable them to finally supplant their rivals.
One of Ecuador's foremost contemporary writers, Alicia Yanez Cossio illuminates the complexity of Andean society by placing disenfranchised players such as women and Amerindians onstage with traditional powers such as the military and the church. Folk wisdom, exemplified in The Potbellied Virgin by the beautifully translated proverbs so popular with the Benavideses and the Pandos alike, stands up to historical record. Such inclusiveness ultimately allows the whole truths of Yanez Cossio's subjects to emerge. Only the second of her novels to be translated into English, The Potbellied Virgin (La cofradia del mullo del vestido de la Virgen Pipona) is a funny, focused portrait of Ecuadorian life in the twentieth century.
Alicia Yánez Cossío (Quito, December 10, 1929) is a prominent Ecuadorian poet, novelist and journalist.
Alicia Yánez Cossío is one of the leading figures of Ecuadorian and Latin American literature, and is the first person of Ecuador to win the Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz Prize (1996). In 2008 she received Ecuador's highest prize in Literature, the "Premio Eugenio Espejo" for her lifetime of work.
I've had this on my to-read list ever since I heard about it, because there are not many novels from Ecuador translated into English. I suggested it for my in-person book club, and I think it got a lot of votes for the title. However some of the members have not been enjoying it, and I think it will be interesting to discuss when I lead our meeting next Monday. And strange to be reading about Ecuador when it suddenly appears in the news, after suffering a devastating earthquake over the weekend.
It took a while to get into the pace of this book but I ended up really loving it. There are no chapters, the text is small and fills most of the page (university press so they seemed to be wanting to make it shorter and cheaper to produce), and dialogue is rare.
The novel takes place in an unnamed town in Ecuador, in the highland region between the coast and jungle, between the late 1800s and 1960. During this time, the conservative party has overtaken the liberals, and dictators rotate through the presidency. Catholicism has also become a state-mandated religion, and being a Catholic has become a mandate for citizenship. This is one of the many ways that the Ecuadorians of European descent push the "mestizos" or pure IndoAmericans to the fringes. Indeed, these populations are almost forced into a sharecropper type of existence. These are all things that are present in the novel, but that I learned more about in my preparation to lead the discussion.
The town has a wooden statue of the Virgin Mary, which is maintained, venerated, dressed, and celebrated by the Sisterhood of the Bead of the Gown of the Potbellied Virgin. This sisterhood is made up of the women of the Benavides family, who have a tight grip on the town. Doña Carmen is the matriarch of the sisterhood and of the town. She is the head of the morality police, one that insists on microphones in the confessional. Priests and other Catholic leaders who are sent to town to oversee the spiritual life of the community never last long; some even flee to the jungle to work with the "dangerous" natives rather than stay and deal with the sisterhood. These stories can get quite funny.
There is a Greek chorus of sorts in the novel - four old men, the Pandos, who are the remnants of the liberal party in the town. They keep watch on the sisterhood because some of the younger members are quite beautiful, and because they know that somewhere, there is proof that the land the Benavides have taken control of actually belongs to them. At times there are stanzas of songs that these men sing, which helps to break up the dense narrative.
The major conflict occurs when the majority of the country is suffering due to drought, and the Church requests that the potbellied virgin journey to nearby towns to bless them. The Sisterhood is resistant to this, and this leads to all sorts of crazy things happening, from a bloody battle with mattresses to Communist graffiti situations.
I thought this was worth the read for many reasons - the story is funny and fascinating (and while not "true," not unbelievable), and it gives a lot of context for Ecuador's socioeconomic history, something I knew absolutely nothing about.
We were out wine tasting, when I spotted this book on display at Winter Hill. The book's translator (Amalia Gladhart) was the daughter of the winery's owner. Since I am always drawn to S. American authors, I picked up a copy. The setting for the book is a small village in Ecuador where the diverse villagers are linked my an small wooden icon. The heart of the story revolves around the secret concealed in the belly of the virgin. The book reads smoothly and is filled with great humor, local proverbs, and characters which make it a worthy read. I recommend it to all my friends who appreciate village life and who can smile at the foibles of religion.
Something about this book delighted me. It is bleakly funny. A vivid fable of religion and politics in provincial Ecuador. The characters and incidents are exaggerated and yet believable.
During my first and recent visit to Ecuador, I did in a few days the return trip between Guayaquil, the large port metropolis on the Pacific Coast and Cuenca, a colonial city in the southern highlands. In a few hours on the road, we left the coastal heat and humidity and the banana and cocoa plantations, we quickly climbed, through the clouds, on the mountain and we emerged above 4000 meters in the rough but beautiful landscape of the Cajas National Park where lamas are grazing before leisurely going down towards Cuenca discovering the profile of its churches’ cupolas in the plateau’s hollow. It seems that Ecuador’s geography and history are marked by this contrast between a dynamic coastal region, open to the world and for business, a melting pot of races and cultures and the more isolated, traditional and Catholic highlands where the dichotomy between the Spanish colonizers’ descendants and the indigenous population is part of the fabric of daily life. Alicia Yánez Cossío’s novel, « The Potbellied Virgin » illustrates well this contrast. The story takes place in an unnamed small town in the highlands which could look like a smaller version of Cuenca. The town is proud of its baroque cathedral sheltering a venerable potbellied virgin. A sisterhood of patronesses, headed by the Benavides, a patrician family of Spanish extraction, cares for the statue and for dressing it. Each of the girls of this lineage, provided she preserved her virginity, gets the honor to give to the Madonna her blond hair. On the main square, sitting on a bench, the old men from the Pando family, of indigenous origin, comment and observe the scene of the city submitting to the Benavides moral order. The show becomes a comedy, highlighted by the author’s humor, when modern and even revolutionary ideas arrive from the Coast and stir up the minds. Some of the Benavides girls lose themselves and elope with Pando boys. Doña Carmen Benavides, the dowager, ends up having to use provocation to bring the army in town to crush the tumult and restore order and authority.
Este es el último libro del 2020. En total leí 25 y mi reto para el 2021 es de 30. Este es un libro que lo trajo mi hermano a la casa hace 35 años y estaba entre mis pendientes jajaja...¡qué manera de demorarme! Disfruté cada palabra 😊. Alicia Yánez es una escritora talentosísima. Este libro me hizo sentir nostalgia, me hizo reír y también me hizo sentir ese sabor agridulce de cómo es mi querido Ecuador. Un retrato perfecto de nuestra idiosincrasia, nuestros fanatismos y nuestras costumbres. Es un relato que te hace reír, como para no llorar... tal cual como es mi país.