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En Chimá nace un santo
En esta novela el mundo de la religiosidad popular se mezcla con el mestizaje y el lenguaje es otro; la frase es corta y es larga, predominan la sencillez y la armonía. Manifiesta rasgos del boom latinoamericano: el rompimiento de la cronología, la multiplicidad de puntos de vista y la fragmentación, los elementos mágicos, lo cual evidencia que Manuel Zapata Olivella fue uno de los pioneros en asimilar los nuevos procedimientos narrativos y técnicos de la novela moderna para explorar, mediante una mirada que se despoja de su visión alienada, el alma de los colombianos. Destaca el minucioso conocimiento de costumbres, sentimientos, saberes y decires de la vida de los pobladores de la cuenca sinuana.
177 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
December 1, 2019
La historia de Chimá no es diferente a la de muchos otros pueblos o ciudades que, en busca de algo a que aferrarse en los tiempos oscuros, terminan por sucumbir a las ideas supersticiosas o religiosas de otros que pretenden sacar provecho. Sin duda una de las grandes joyas de la literatura colombiana.
August 8, 2025
Es una de las novelas más espectaculares del Caribe colombiano. Zapata Olivella narra cómo a partir de un incendio un tullido, Domingo Vidales, sobrevive y pasa a convertirse en el santo de Chima, en la zona cenaguera del departamento de Córdoba. Santo Domingo, como pasa a ser llamado, cumple los milagros y favores de la gente chimalera que llega a su humilde casa para hablar, pedir y tocar al tullido. Sus hermanas, el sacristán de la iglesia de Chima y sus devotos cambian la historia del pueblo que entre imaginarios indígenas del antiguo pueblo Zenú y las creencias católicas atribuyen que, en esa tierra, ha nacido un santo. Sin embargo, el sacerdote del pueblo vecino, Santa Cruz de Lórica, ve con malos ojos la declaración de santo que él mismo salvo del fuego. A partir de allí comienza una lucha del pueblo por mantener su santo, y la iglesia y la ley -representada por un policía y el alcalde- por acabar con el sacrilegio de sus feligreses.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 18, 2019
Es un libro que nos habla de tradiciones de santería, "brujería" y medicina tradicional que se practican en contextos tales como el que describe Zapata en esta historia: pueblos alejados geográfica, cultural y politicamente de las grandes urbes. Con esta historia, el autor nos invita a reflexionar sobre el poder de la iglesia católica, las administraciones locales y la policía en las sociedades colonizadas. Un poder que, aunque aparentemente es fuerte, se ve derrotado ante la fuerza del arraigo cultural de la gente costeña.
November 6, 2023
Zapata Olivella is afrocolombian. He was a doctor and anthropologist as well as a novelist. "A Saint Is Born in Chimá" is an ethnographic novel, clearly coming out Zapata Olivella’s training as an anthropologist and his interest in afrocolombian culture. The novel reminds me of the Peruvian José Maria Arguedas’s "Deep Rivers" about the Andean Quechua, Carter Wilson’s "Crazy February" about the Tzotzil in southern Mexico, and the sections of Rosario Castellanos’ "The Book of Lamentations" which also focus on the Tzotzil in the villages in Chiapas, particularly San Juan Chamula. Latin American literature primarily features the hispanic cultures which colonized the continent, so I find it fascinating to read imaginative works which develop out of indigenous and African diasporic cultures.
The novel also reminds me of Juan Rulfo’s story “Talpa,” whose plot revolves around a religious pilgrimage. "A Saint Is Born in Chimá" begins on the Day of the Dead, when families make pilgrimages to the cemeteries where their relatives are buried; unlike the colorful and celebratory way that the Day of the Dead is often portrayed in Mexico, here Zapata Olivella portrays the pilgrimage as dour and desperate: the search for some kind of favor/intercession from the dead to relieve the suffering of the living. On this propitious day, the story centers on the miraculous survival of a crippled man, Domingo Vidal, whose family’s house burns down around him but he comes out of it unscathed and unsinged, even though the cassock of the priest who runs into the house to save him is burned and disintegrating when he runs out of the house with Domingo. Zapata Olivella tells us that Domingo is suffering from microcephalia, juvenile arthritis, and Still’s disease(adult onset arthritis)--the medical understanding of Domingo’s disabilities–but because he survived the fire the villagers declare a miracle and claim Domingo is a saint who can make miracles happen. This transformation of Domingo, from abject and marginalized to the mythic center of the village’s existence, initiates the plot of the novel.
I would just note before moving on that even after becoming a powerful miracle maker, Domingo still lacks agency: more often than not, in fiction disabled characters lack agency, and their lives are subjected to others’ manipulations. As a flat two-dimensional character who is moved by others because he cannot move himself, Domingo becomes a pawn, even after his death, in a religious conflict which is primarily about colonialism and Catholicism.
In Chimá, a poor coastal Caribbean village populated by the descendents of former and escaped slaves, the villagers see Domingo as a vehicle of hope and prosperity. They take their faith in their own hands and declare Domingo a saint and miracle maker. With this hope, the villagers are energized, and their faith becomes ecstatic as they work to better their lives through Domingo and his miracles. They remake Catholicism in their own image and for their own uses, and in doing so are immediately at odds with the Catholic Church, its organization and hierarchy, which sees the ecstatic villagers and their saint as a threat to its institutional–that is, colonial–power.
The primary representative of the Church is Padre Berrocal, who is the one who risked his life to save Domingo. He is a local who was raised with all the local superstitions, but through deviation and study he has purged himself and suppressed all those superstitions to become a strict, doctrinaire Catholic priest. Berrocal feels that his inflexible faith gives him the authority and the power to reign in the “idolators” and redeem them, but the villagers resist Berrocal, even when he brings the police with him. The villagers relish their religious ecstacy and improvise rules, customs, beliefs, and behaviors to embellish their power and build their faith around Domingo. Even after Domingo dies (not much of a spoiler alert), they see his power everywhere and work to guide it. Zapata Olivella gently reveals that some of what the villagers see as miracles are not and the product of belief (they see what they want to see), but he does not criticize or condemn them for such perceptions. He does not assert the primacy of western rationalism or institutional faith, but simply presents the villagers as using their social and religious capital to empower themselves against historical forces (colonialism, slavery) that would keep them powerless. Most importantly, the villagers claim the ability to interpret their world, to see it shaped and remade by Domingo’s miracles. Thus, when Padre Berrocal dies of a stroke and his body ends up as twisted as Domingo’s crippled body, the villagers see the power of Domingo at work, reinforcing their beliefs and actions.
In the face of these uppity villagers, the Church exercises its terrestrial–that is, civic–power to put them back in their place. Violence begats violence begats more violence. Still, because of the local myths and superstitions that saturate this region of Colombia, those who are tasked with ridding Chimá of its idolators–people who have, unlike Padre Berrocal, not suppressed the myths and superstitions with which they grew up–do not follow through, at least not fully, because they understand the power of the villager’s faith and are afraid for their lives. In the end, there is stalemate, which I really like. Intriguing book.
The novel also reminds me of Juan Rulfo’s story “Talpa,” whose plot revolves around a religious pilgrimage. "A Saint Is Born in Chimá" begins on the Day of the Dead, when families make pilgrimages to the cemeteries where their relatives are buried; unlike the colorful and celebratory way that the Day of the Dead is often portrayed in Mexico, here Zapata Olivella portrays the pilgrimage as dour and desperate: the search for some kind of favor/intercession from the dead to relieve the suffering of the living. On this propitious day, the story centers on the miraculous survival of a crippled man, Domingo Vidal, whose family’s house burns down around him but he comes out of it unscathed and unsinged, even though the cassock of the priest who runs into the house to save him is burned and disintegrating when he runs out of the house with Domingo. Zapata Olivella tells us that Domingo is suffering from microcephalia, juvenile arthritis, and Still’s disease(adult onset arthritis)--the medical understanding of Domingo’s disabilities–but because he survived the fire the villagers declare a miracle and claim Domingo is a saint who can make miracles happen. This transformation of Domingo, from abject and marginalized to the mythic center of the village’s existence, initiates the plot of the novel.
I would just note before moving on that even after becoming a powerful miracle maker, Domingo still lacks agency: more often than not, in fiction disabled characters lack agency, and their lives are subjected to others’ manipulations. As a flat two-dimensional character who is moved by others because he cannot move himself, Domingo becomes a pawn, even after his death, in a religious conflict which is primarily about colonialism and Catholicism.
In Chimá, a poor coastal Caribbean village populated by the descendents of former and escaped slaves, the villagers see Domingo as a vehicle of hope and prosperity. They take their faith in their own hands and declare Domingo a saint and miracle maker. With this hope, the villagers are energized, and their faith becomes ecstatic as they work to better their lives through Domingo and his miracles. They remake Catholicism in their own image and for their own uses, and in doing so are immediately at odds with the Catholic Church, its organization and hierarchy, which sees the ecstatic villagers and their saint as a threat to its institutional–that is, colonial–power.
The primary representative of the Church is Padre Berrocal, who is the one who risked his life to save Domingo. He is a local who was raised with all the local superstitions, but through deviation and study he has purged himself and suppressed all those superstitions to become a strict, doctrinaire Catholic priest. Berrocal feels that his inflexible faith gives him the authority and the power to reign in the “idolators” and redeem them, but the villagers resist Berrocal, even when he brings the police with him. The villagers relish their religious ecstacy and improvise rules, customs, beliefs, and behaviors to embellish their power and build their faith around Domingo. Even after Domingo dies (not much of a spoiler alert), they see his power everywhere and work to guide it. Zapata Olivella gently reveals that some of what the villagers see as miracles are not and the product of belief (they see what they want to see), but he does not criticize or condemn them for such perceptions. He does not assert the primacy of western rationalism or institutional faith, but simply presents the villagers as using their social and religious capital to empower themselves against historical forces (colonialism, slavery) that would keep them powerless. Most importantly, the villagers claim the ability to interpret their world, to see it shaped and remade by Domingo’s miracles. Thus, when Padre Berrocal dies of a stroke and his body ends up as twisted as Domingo’s crippled body, the villagers see the power of Domingo at work, reinforcing their beliefs and actions.
In the face of these uppity villagers, the Church exercises its terrestrial–that is, civic–power to put them back in their place. Violence begats violence begats more violence. Still, because of the local myths and superstitions that saturate this region of Colombia, those who are tasked with ridding Chimá of its idolators–people who have, unlike Padre Berrocal, not suppressed the myths and superstitions with which they grew up–do not follow through, at least not fully, because they understand the power of the villager’s faith and are afraid for their lives. In the end, there is stalemate, which I really like. Intriguing book.
November 23, 2020
Es un retrato del pueblo alejado de la modernidad con todas las creencias que se mezclaron entre los indios, los negros y los colonizadores. Excelente
September 14, 2024
Es interesante, de lectura rápida y que te deja pensando en esa antigua necesidad del humano de "Creer en algo", la desesperación de hacerlo en realidad. Olivella logra hacer una especie de crónica de realismo mágico que te deja en el borde de saber si es verdad o no en Chimá nació un santo.
Es de lectura fácil, ágil, escrito de una manera que da cuenta del tiempo en que fue concebido.
Es de lectura fácil, ágil, escrito de una manera que da cuenta del tiempo en que fue concebido.
January 22, 2025
Increíbles son las imágenes que Zapata Olivella logra crear en la mente del lector con esta historia.
April 9, 2022
Una historia de supersticiones en la que la tercera persona que narra, omnisciente e ilocalizable, también delira. Los sugestivos y sutiles cambios del punto de vista exponen un contagio feroz: el contenido resquebraja la forma. Un gesto de vanguardia que uno también puede ver en Funny Games o Gremlins 2.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews