The Literature of Indigenismo: René Prieto

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The literature of Indigenismo

René Prieto
T h e history of colonial and republican A m e r i c a is also - in its margins,

footnotes, and backpages — the history of the Indian. N o t of the Indian as
he is but as white and mestizo writers from A l o n s o de Ercilla (1533—1594)
to Ventura G a r c í a C a l d e r ó n (1886-1959) and José M a r i a A r g u e d a s
( 1 9 1 1 - 1 9 6 9 ) have chosen to typecast, vilify or idealize him.
T h e inexorable modification of the first Americans begins with the
Arcadian portrayal of Fray Bartolomé de las C a s a s (1474-1566), a fanciful
notion that provides the germ for Rousseau's noble savage t w o centuries
later. T h i s process of transfiguration is not the only feature that harnesses
together the colonial perception w i t h that of our contemporaries, h o w
ever. C u r i o u s as it may seem, almost all of the elements that were to typify
the literature of Indigenismo [Indigenism] in the 1840s are already in
evidence in the chronicles of the C o n q u e s t and the literature of the early
colonial period.
T h e blend of romantic idealization and social indictment favoured by
Las C a s a s and El Inca Garcilaso ( 1 5 3 9 - 1 6 1 6 ) , A l o n s o de Ercilla's vision of
warring braves and passionate heroines, the picturesque traditions and
unprecedented myths portrayed in the w o r k of Bernal D i a z del Castillo
(i496?-i584?) and Bernardo de Balbuena (1568-1627) enter as one unit
into the fiction of authors w h o , since Independence, had been avidly
searching for colorful imagery to portray w h a t they saw as the originality
of A m e r i c a . A n d , since independence from Spain came at a time w h e n the
romantic movement held s w a y , a g o o d many of the Indian protagonists
during the first three quarters of the nineteenth century developed as
exotic objects, faithful reflections of Chateaubriand's and Walter Scott's
literary conceits.
A t the same time that this chimerical current w a s bringing to life
picture-postcard views of the A m e r i c a n continent, a handful of authors
w a s m a k i n g resolute attempts to vindicate its native inhabitants. It is this
focus on social injustice, this determination to champion the cause of a
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disfranchised race, that distinguishes the literature of Indigenismo from
the w o r k of indianista [Indianist] authors writing in the middle decades of
the nineteenth century. Writers of both tendencies share a compassion for
the conquered cultures of A m e r i c a but while the Indianistas couple a
purely sentimental interest w i t h an attachment to the traditions of the
past, the Indigenistas dwell on social protest and direct their attention to
the contemporary rural Indian w h o m they v i e w from the urban perspec
tive characteristic of the bourgeois novel.
A l t h o u g h agreement prevails regarding the focus and sphere of action
of Indianismo [Indianism] and Indigenismo, opinions differ as to the
lineage and idiosyncrasies of both movements. For instance, until very
recently, critics hailed the prototypal Aves sin nido [Birds Without a nest.
A Story of Indian Life and Priestly Oppression in Peru] by C l o r i n d a M a t t o
de T u r n e r (i852-1909) as the first indigenista novel. H o w e v e r , in a
groundbreaking study entitled The Andes Viewed from the City: Literary
and Political Discourse on the Indian in Peru (1848-1930), Efrain Kristal
demonstrates that N a r c i s o Aréstegui's 1848 saga of lust and murder, El
Padre Horán, outstrips M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s classic by over forty years.
Questions also arise concerning generic boundaries. Is Aves sin nido the
c r o w n i n g e x a m p l e of Indianismo, as C o n c h a M e l é n d e z suggests in her
foundational La novela Indianista en Hispanoamérica (1832-1889), or, is
it, as Julio Rodriguez-Luis (in Hermenéutica y praxis del Indigenismo: La
novela Indigenista de Clorinda Matto a José María Arguedas) and
Seymour M e n t ó n (in " L a novela del indio y las corrientes literarias")
respectively maintain, the first documented w o r k of the Indigenismo}
W h a t d o w e m a k e of more recent w o r k s such as the controversial
Hombres de maíz [Men of Maize] by M i g u e l A n g e l Asturias (1899-1974),
or the five-volume saga, " L a Guerra Silenciosa" (1977-1979) by M a n u e l
Scorza (1928-1983), w o r k s w h i c h , stylistically speaking, are radically
different from the canonic examples of the m o v e m e n t although no less
bent upon advocating Indian rights than the staunchest of their
predecessors?
T h e differences and similarities, range and scope of these literary
tendencies c o m e sharply into focus w h e n w e marshal the movements
portraying the Indian into three phases - Indianismo, o r t h o d o x Indige
nismo, and Neoindigenismo - in keeping with T o m á s G . Escajadillo's
prescription (1971). D r a w n to the picturesque and spectacular aspects of
the A m e r i c a n continent and its autochthonous inhabitants, authors from
the first g r o u p prefer to set their fiction in the past, at a time before Indian
civilizations had been tainted by European culture. T h e t w o classic
examples of this tendency are Cumandá: o un drama entre salvajes by
Juan L e ó n M e r a (1832-1894), a tale of star-crossed lovers w h o turn out to
be estranged siblings, and the loosely historical Iracema lenda do Ceará
139
C A M B R I D G E H I S T O R Y OF L A T I N A M E R I C A N LITERATURE
[Iracema, the Honey Lips], another romance of impossible love written by

Brazilian José de Alencar (1829-1877) and set in the lush R i o G r a n d e del
N o r t e region of Brazil. T h e child issuing from the interracial union in
Iracema, a prelusive mestizo in the romantic literature of the N e w W o r l d ,
emblematizes in every w a y the uncertain destiny of the countless men and
w o m e n w h o are alienated in the country of their birth. In fact, it is this
p a r a d o x of the stranger in a land made strange that constitutes the essence
of all N e w W o r l d literature dealing with the Indian and that best describes
their social condition.
T h e s e social conditions are not portrayed as a problem in literature
until well into the nineteenth century. Instead, as C o n c h a M e l é n d e z points
out, the subjects that most concern Central and South A m e r i c a n authors
during the Revolutionary period are: anti-Hispanic feelings, an exultant
sense of optimism about the future of A m e r i c a , and an attachment to
indigenous traditions, especially those of the Inca.
W i t h one exception, the twenty-four novels studied by M e l é n d e z are
most definitely not w o r k s of social protest, even w h e n they share a
compassion for the conquered Indian and a sentimental interest in the
folkloric aspects of his culture. Such interest is a logical offshoot of
independence. H a v i n g made a historical break from Hispanic rule,
authors begin to consider the mother cultures of A m e r i c a as an attractive
lineage for the identity of the budding republics. It is to these cultures that
writers of the post-revolutionary period turn w i t h an almost child-like
enthusiasm. Unfamiliar as they are with the actual realities of Indian
civilization - A m e r i c a n ethnology and anthropology are then in their
infancy - they idealize the aboriginal inhabitants. Since such idealization
is in marked contrast with the deplorable living conditions of the
contemporary inhabitants of the N e w W o r l d , they exalt the values of the
ancient indigenous cultures and decry the u n m a k i n g of their contempor
aries, an attitude w h i c h translates as an insensitivity to the present in their
w o r k s of literature. T h e indigenous past that the Indianista authors invent
is glorious while the present is simply dismissed from their schemes. T h i s
attitude underlies the conception of t w o novels w h o s e plots are set in pre-
Cortesian times: J. R. Hernandez's Azcaxochitl o la flecha de oro and the
Y u c a t e c Eulogia Palma y Palma's La Hija de Tutl-Xiu (1884).
In these w o r k s as well as in the deservedly famous Enriquillo (first
published in a complete edition in 1882) by M a n u e l de Jesús G a l v á n of
Santo D o m i n g o , the authors infuse their characters w i t h a typically
romantic love of liberty and, in the case of the latter w o r k , g o as far as
casting the hero as a patriotic s y m b o l . T h e e p o n y m o u s Enriquillo,
victorious cacique w h o launches a courageous revolt in order to free his
people from a humiliating vassalage is a case in point of the process of
idealization typical of Indianista literature.
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The literature o f Indigenismo
A s the romantic school recast the long-standing tradition of c o m p a s

sion for the conquered Indian, the developing naturalist tendency fueled
by the impact of positivist theories sets off a countercurrent to compassion
during the last sixty years of the nineteenth century. A s French influence
penetrates and permeates the rapidly developing capitals of Chile,
Argentina, and Uruguay, the romantic portrait of the Indian becomes
substituted by a g r o w i n g sense that this disfranchised, sapped, and senile
race is an obstacle to national progress. It is this vision of a degenerate and
vicious breed that authors such as Esteban Echeverría (1805-1851) and
D o m i n g o Faustino Sarmiento (1811-1888) respectively translate in " L a
c a u t i v a " (in Rimas) and in Civilización i barbarie: vida de Juan Facundo
Quiroga, aspecto físico, costumbres i ábitos de la República Argentina,
w o r k s w h i c h postulate the racial and cultural superiority of Europe and
storm against "native s a v a g e r y . "
T h e n , in 1848, alongside the conflicting tendencies to idealize the Indian
on the one hand and d o w n g r a d e him on the other, a novel written by a
Peruvian educator turned military hero introduces a w h o l e n e w perspec
tive and changes forever the course of fiction portraying native A m e r i
cans. In El Padre Horán, N a r c i s o Aréstegui portrays the Indian as a social
dilemma for the first time since El Inca G a r c i l a s o ' s vindication of his race.
T h e novel's action is based on an incident that occurred in Peru in 1836. A
respected priest, Father O r o s , murdered the daughter of a well-to-do
C u z c o family and w a s brought to trial. Building on the gruesome details,
Aréstegui paints the portrait of a greedy and lecherous man of the cloth
w h o benefits from free Indian labor and caps a life of excess and abuse by
raping and killing an innocent girl.
A s it turns out, the stuff of melodrama is but a stalking horse upon
w h i c h impassioned political discourse fares forth. A s Efrain Kristal
indicates in The Andes Viewed from the City, the Indian is played as " a
rhetorical p a w n " in the debate between the landed oligarchy and sectors
of the political and cultural intelligentsia in all five countries where
Indigenismo proliferates: Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, M e x i c o , and G u a t e
1
m a l a . In the case of Aréstegui's novel, the excesses of Father H o r á n
illustrate h o w the incubi of commerce (and, by extension, of national
development) are individuals w h o abuse the feudal system. T h e Peruvian
author strongly advocates a protected labor force and hopes for a fully
employed society that is justly remunerated for its efforts and will, in turn,
participate in the cycle of production and consumption w h i c h bolsters
agriculture, c o m m e r c e , and national progress. Kristal goes on to demon-
1
Needless to say, novels in defense of the Indian h a v e been written in other Latin A m e r i c a n
countries. A case in point is Donde haya Dios (1955) by A r g e n t i n i a n author A l b e r t o R o d r i g u e z .
It is in the five countries mentioned a b o v e , h o w e v e r , that the literature featuring native
A m e r i c a n s has proliferated sufficiently to w a r r a n t speaking in terms o f a literary tendency.
141
strate h o w Aréstegui's views on his country's native inhabitants are really

a reflection of certain political stances taken by Peruvian liberals w h o
vindicated the Indian by w o r k i n g to curb the abuses of a feudal order.
T h e same liberal decrees calling for the exoneration of the Indian labor
force enacted by R a m ó n Castilla (President of Peru in 1 8 4 5 - 1 8 5 1 and,
again, between 1855 and 1864) inform the little-known Sé bueno y serás
feliz by Ladislao G r a n a ( 1 8 1 7 - 1 8 6 2 ) , a novel first published in install-
ments in the influential La Revista de Lima in i860. Besides being
profoundly didactic, G r a ñ a ' s novel is originally conceived as a story
within a story in w h i c h frequent incursions into the past alternate with
observations about contemporary Peruvian history and politics. It reports
the woeful tale of José H u a m á n , a kind, h a r d - w o r k i n g Indian w h o s e life is
practically destroyed by a greedy governor w h o earns his wealth through
murder, exploitation, and deceit. In the end, following one of the
narrator's sallies against those w h o abuse native A m e r i c a n s , José's virtue
is at long last rewarded; in the last published installment of Sé bueno y
serás feliz, the Indian hero becomes a small property o w n e r while the
callous governor w h o wastes illegally made wealth dies alone, leaving his
concubine and child destitute.
In advocating the emancipation of native Americans from forced labor
and certain kinds of tribute, Aréstegui and G r a n a were no doubt
mirroring the economic concerns of contemporary landowners w h o
supported these reforms, as Kristal suggests, because "they needed to
obtain a labor force in order to increase c o m m e r c e " (p. 30). In the long
run, h o w e v e r , e c o n o m i c motives turn out to be the springboard for a n e w
kind of social engineering. H a n d in hand w i t h the need to free a labor
force for commerce comes a more altruistic concern w i t h civic ideals, a
sort of Benthamism that is no less devoted to the c o m m o n w e a l for being
utilitarian. T h e s e civic ideals are upheld by a brave new breed of
enlightened individuals driven by an apparently incorrupt zeal for
improvement.
T h i s type of crusader in favor of Indian rights surfaces as a narrator as
early as El Padre Horán but does not c o m e into its o w n as a character until
C l o r i n d a M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s classic trilogy: Aves sin nido, Indole, and
Herencia. In spite of its romantic trappings and tendency to idealize
indigenous inhabitants, the first of these - an injunction against the
oppression of the "trinity" made up of Priest, Judge, and G o v e r n o r - is a
vehement barrage against the forces that exploit native A m e r i c a n s .
Profoundly influenced by the writings of her fellow countryman,
M a n u e l G o n z á l e z Prada (1848-1918), M a t t o de T u r n e r translates her
mentor's social preoccupations into fiction and produces a c o m m a n d i n g
indictment. T h e "trinity" she describes had been damned w i t h mordant
irony in a novel published four years earlier: José T o r r e s y L a r a ' s (whose
142
pen name w a s Itolararres) La Trinidad del Indio o Costumbres del
Interior. T h i s w o r k should be included a m o n g the early examples of
indigenista literature even though it focuses on the abuse and b a c k w a r d -
ness of the "trinity" in a typical A n d e a n t o w n rather than on the Indian
and his pitiful situation. It is a curious mixture in w h i c h elements from
M e n i p p e a n satire and A e s o p ' s Fables are brought together in order to
m o c k the grossly exaggerated foibles of the corrupt oligarchy ruling over
t o w n and country. M o r e curious, even, than the novel itself is that such an
iconoclastic tirade could have seen the light, a fact that can only be
explained as an extraordinary legacy of the W a r of the Pacific (i 879-1883)
w a g e d between Chile and Peru.
N o t the most immediately o b v i o u s o u t c o m e of this debacle w a s the
appalling state of backwardness that shackled the north A n d e a n republic.
Underdevelopment w a s blamed on Peru's precarious social structure,
namely that the largely Indian population w a s excluded from the
mainstream of national life - a life controlled by a tight-fisted oligarchy.
T h i s belief and the need to recast such an obsolete and ineffectual
distribution of p o w e r impelled the most revolutionary author of the
period, M a n u e l G o n z á l e z Prada, to take a stand against w h a t he labelled
the " p u s " infecting Peruvian society.
A l t h o u g h an heir to one of Peru's patrician families, G o n z á l e z Prada
w a s soon spearheading a g r o u p of idealists and intellectuals w h o wished
to take a more active part in political life. T h e i r immediate goal? T o
redress the social imbalance that hampered national development. T h e
aristocrat turned Socialist t o o k to the p o d i u m as well as to the pen,
published compelling p r o p a g a n d a in favor of progress and Indian rights
and actually campaigned in the n e w l y formed party, La Unión Nacional.
N e v e r one to sit still or limit his sphere of action, Peru's new-fledged
militant poet founded the C í r c u l o Literario in L i m a in 1886 w i t h the aim
of producing a committed and future-minded literature that w o u l d raise
national consciousness. It w a s through this C í r c u l o that he met a y o u n g
w i d o w freshly arrived from C u z c o , C l o r i n d a M a t t o de Turner.
A t the time, M a t t o had already published a collection of Tradiciones
cuzqueñas (1884-1886) aimed at capturing - like the Tradiciones perua-
nas (1872-1883) of R i c a r d o Palma (1833-1919) - the essence of the past, a
fact w h i c h demonstrates her o n g o i n g interest in all matters regarding
Peru. H o w e v e r , after meeting G o n z á l e z Prada and joining the Círculo
Literario, this interest became focused on the need to rehabilitate the
Indian and incorporate him into the mainstream of national life, objec-
tives that this typical representative of the emerging industrial elite w a s
able to voice as editor of the influential El Ferú Ilustrado and through the
no less influential Aves sin nido.
N o one denies C l o r i n d a M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s pride of place, even if her
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CAMBRIDGE HISTORY OF L A T I N A M E R I C A N LITERATURE
seminal trilogy has been showered w i t h more praise for w h a t w a s long

thought to be its pioneering position as the first w o r k of Indigenismo than
for any intrinsic merit it may have. Y e t the fact that a novel like Aves sin
nido is romantic and quaint (it includes c o o k i n g recipes and household
hints) should not detract from its originality. Its author not only outlines
the social dilemma of the Indian in contemporary Peruvian society, she
also - and this is a crucial step in the development of the indigenista novel
- portrays her Indian characters as individuals.
M a t t o de Turner w a s not a pioneer, h o w e v e r ; she acts as a watershed
channeling theoretical concerns and topical situations set forth in other
mediums and formats. N o t only the role played by Indians but, actually,
the entire blueprint for Aves sin nido can be traced to a remarkable w o r k ,
"Si haces mal no esperes b i e n , " written by an Argentinian w o m a n : Juana
M a n u e l a Gorriti (1819-1892). In their respective w o r k s of fiction, both
M a t t o de T u r n e r and Gorriti denounce the oppression of native A m e r i
cans by an abusive feudal order and dramatize the fatal attraction
between members of different races w h o turn out to be half-siblings. In
Aves sin nido, as in " S i haces mal no esperes b i e n , " the contemporary
Indian - neither Inca prince nor Aztec w a r r i o r - h a s a face and a name.
" O n e - u p p i n g " the w o r k of her predecessor, h o w e v e r , M a t t o de T u r n e r
introduces — in the strong-minded M a r i n couple and their unshrinking
friend M a n u e l - a new type of criollo hero, one w h o neither perceives nor
treats the Indian as a picturesque (and therefore alien) phenomenon but,
rather, as a human being with very real problems. Solutions to these
problems can be found, moreover, provided just men and w o m e n are
willing to fight in favor of the underdog and, as do the M a r i n s , to
introduce Indians to a culture they had been excluded from up to that
point.
In matters of character development and distribution of roles M a t t o de
Turner once again turns to other sources. In this respect, she complies
w i t h the three types of Peruvian citizens that her mentor G o n z a l e z Prada
had inventorized: the enlightened and free individuals (such as the M a r i n
couple), the city folk w h o waste wealth and the rural oligarchy w h o amass
profits at the expense of Indians (Pascual the priest and D o n Sebastian the
governor), and, finally, the uneducated Indian masses.
Inasmuch as her pedagogical zeal is concerned, M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s
trilogy can again be said to hark back to an earlier model; in this case,
G r a n a ' s Se bueno y serds feliz. A s her predecessor had done, M a t t o de
T u r n e r had the aim of enlightening readers as to the hardships of the
unjustifiably tormented. T o this effect, Aves sin nido provides a beha
vioral guide that illustrates w a y s and means to redress social injustice.
O n e of the most interesting and certainly one of the most original features
of M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s plot is the a c c o m m o d a t i o n and recognition of the
144
kind of racial integration she advocated, for instance, in an editorial

addressed to President Andrés A v e l i n o Cáceres in El Perú Ilustrado: " W e
call for foreign immigration that can mend our country through the
mixture of b l o o d , " she declared w i t h a vehemence that w o u l d cost her
dearly under the next administration and finish by forcing her into exile.
But long before that time, she translated into fiction her progressive beliefs
by having the white, bourgeois, and enlightened Fernando M a r i n and his
wife Lucia adopt the orphan daughters of the Indians Juan and M a r c e l a
Y u p a n q u i while their friend M a n u e l , stepson of the governor, falls in love
w i t h the eldest of the girls. Even though their marriage is impossible (they
turn out to be siblings), isn't M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s didactic trilogy opening
the d o o r to cultural and racial mestizaje as a viable solution for Peru's
problems? T h e contrast w i t h Sarmiento's m u c h more successful racist
campaign, published scarcely forty years earlier, amply demonstrates
h o w extraordinarily future-minded C l o r i n d a M a t t o de T u r n e r really w a s .
Aves sin nido is more than a transitional w o r k , much more than a
bridge between Indianismo and Indigenismo. It is a m o n g the forerunners
of a militant breed of social protest w h o s e message and method hark back
to the indignant accusations of Las C a s a s and El Inca G a r c i l a s o . Y e t even
M a t t o de T u r n e r w a s not a l w a y s unprejudiced. H e r trilogy suffers from
three preconceptions that A n t o n i o C o r n e j o Polar outlines in his insightful
Literatura y sociedad en el Perú: La novela indigenista.
First and foremost, the solutions she finds to the Indians' dilemma are
not collective; in her novels only a handful of Indians manage to escape a
miserable destiny. Second, her perspective is entirely moral; the Indians'
suffering is a result of the first families' unworthiness and certainly not
connected to the very real problem of land ownership. T h i r d , M a t t o de
T u r n e r ' s solution to the Indian's quandary is, quite simply, to stop being
an Indian and b e c o m e assimilated into Western civilization through a
process of education that will eventually strip the Indian race of its o w n
culture. H o w e v e r , the fact that she w a s not w h o l l y unprejudiced does not
mean that she w a s not progressive. M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s attitude and
approach were so ahead of their time, in fact, that they were not taken up
again in fiction until well after the M e x i c a n R e v o l u t i o n of I Q I O w h e n
Latin A m e r i c a n authors, saturated w i t h the aestheticizing tendency of
Modernismo [Modernism], turned once again t o w a r d the a l w a y s elusive
question of identity.
Starting around 1 9 1 9 , w i t h the publication of Raza de bronce by the
Bolivian historian and sociologist Alcides A r g u e d a s (1879—1946), the
Indian comes into v o g u e in literature for the first time since its romantic
revival almost a century earlier. By that time, the influential writings of
G o n z á l e z Prada and his most faithful ally, Hildebrando C a s t r o P o z o
(1890-1945) had influenced an entire generation of intellectuals.
145
Born like G o n z á l e z Prada into a family of wealthy land o w n e r s , C a s t r o

P o z o w a s soon appalled by the economic situation w h i c h shackled the
Indian population of his native Peru. In 1916, he published an important
collection of short stories, Celajes de Sierra, where he exposed w h a t he
had experienced during years of contact w i t h the Indian communities. T o
this experience he brought to bear the stock of information acquired as
Chief of Indian Affairs of the Ministry of D e v e l o p m e n t and published a
crucial study entitled Nuestra Comunidad Indígena (1918).
A t this time, Peru entered an era of social and political turmoil; the
theoretical concerns of M a r x , Lenin, and Engels k n e w w i d e appeal a m o n g
intellectuals after the resounding triumph of the Russian R e v o l u t i o n .
Socialism became particularly seductive to countries that had a ready-
made apparatus of social protest and a burning cause to defend. T h e
struggle for Indian rights in the five Central and South A m e r i c a n republics
that had the largest indigenous populations w a s translated into a litera
ture of social protest geared to redressing the predicaments of native
Americans.
Alcides A r g u e d a s had begun his stirring call to arms as early as 1904
under the tentative title Wata-Wara (the name of the novel's heroine and
victim), but revised and published it fifteen years later, giving it the title w e
k n o w today. Raza de bronce is the second rung - f o l l o w i n g the phase that
concludes w i t h Aves sin nido - in the ladder of Indigenismo; it connects
M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s conjunctive w o r k to the second indigenista generation
c o m p o s e d of Enrique L ó p e z Albújar (1852-1966), Jorge Icaza ( 1 9 0 6 -
1978), Jesus L a r a (1898-1980), and Ventura G a r c í a C a l d e r ó n . W h a t its
author adds to M a t t o de T u r n e r ' s conception is a more profound
k n o w l e d g e of Indian customs and a comprehensive focus on their lives.
O n the other hand, A r g u e d a s streamlined and oversimplified M a t t o de
T u r n e r ' s distribution of roles. If, in her indigenista novel, there are g o o d
Whites, bad W h i t e s , and Indians, in Raza de bronce character portrayal
(as w a s to become the case w i t h most w o r k s of the period) is n a r r o w l y and
unrealistically binary, divided between g o o d and evil corresponding,
generally speaking, to Indians and non-Indians. T h e one apparent
exception to this rule of t w o in Raza de bronce is a character named
Suárez - a flagrant p a r o d y of the modernist poet - w h o turns out to be
effete and ineffectual w h e n it comes to actually defending the Indians
instead of idealizing them in capricious portraits.
Readers of the novel cannot help w o n d e r i n g if A r g u e d a s ' s o w n
characterization is not, in fact, as stylized and unrealistic as Suárez's.
Certainly the Indians' analysis of the p o w e r structure and their doubts
concerning the potential hazards of the white man's education are blatant
transpositions of the author's o w n thoughts and perspective. But some
measure of stylization should not detract from A r g u e d a s ' s very real
146
success in enlisting the reader's sympathy in favor of native Americans.

His A n d e a n saga - the tale of a y o u n g Indian w o m a n w h o is raped and
accidentally killed by the landowner's son and a handful of his friends - is
profoundly disturbing. W h e n , at the novel's end, the Indians revolt and
burn the l a n d o w n e r ' s house, it is impossible not to condone their actions.
In fact, Raza de bronce might well be considered the first South A m e r i c a n
novel that actively politicizes the reader by suggesting that the answer to
the dilemma of the Indian race - depicted as a c o m m u n i t y and not as
isolated individuals - m a y be no other than violent action.
Unlike Alcides A r g u e d a s , a handful of writers from this second
generation of Indigenistas were loath to c h a m p i o n social unrest. In his
Cuentos andinos and Nuevos cuentos andinos, the versatile Peruvian
judge and author, Enrique L ó p e z Albújar, focused on the p s y c h o l o g y and
behavior of the Indian and not on the likelihood of an imminent social
rebellion. Despite his lack of revolutionary zeal, L ó p e z Albújar w a s , in the
w o r d s of C i r o Alegría, the first to create flesh and b l o o d Indian characters
in the literature of Indigenismo. His experience as judge in the hill t o w n of
H u a n u c o distinctly informed his narrative o u t l o o k , w h i c h is to say that
many of the Indian characters in the Cuentos andinos were directly or
indirectly involved in criminal situations. G i v e n this narrative penchant,
the emphasis w a s on individual cases, on anecdotes that revealed Indian
character rather than on social systems. L ó p e z Albújar's Indian p r o t a g o
nists tend to be violent and, for better or for w o r s e , they are a l w a y s
capable of action. T h i s attitude w a s in sharp contrast with the passive
protagonists of M a t t o de T u r n e r or of Ventura G a r c í a C a l d e r ó n , v i e w e d ,
these latter, from a d o w n r i g h t racist perspective.
F r o m the beginning, Ventura and his brother Francisco made no bones
about their prejudice. Ventura saw no w a y for the Indian to participate in
politics and w o n d e r e d h o w one could " b u i l d a bridge between t w o races
w i t h o u t connections?" (Ortega, Ventura García Calderón, 128). H e
w r o t e one novel and over t w o score of short stories that were o v e r w h e l m
ingly well received (he and his brother were even nominated for a joint
N o b e l Prize by a group of eminent sociologists that included Lucien Lévy-
Bruhl). His short stories set in Peru were largely inspired by his o w n
experience as a frustrated prospector roaming across the A n d e s ; they
portray a variety of social types and vividly describe a quasi-feudal code of
behavior in w h i c h honor and a sense of duty play a major part. A m o n g
those included in La venganza del cóndor, the narrator often transcribed
songs in Q u e c h u a and s h o w e d himself to be d r a w n to the natives'
idiosyncrasies, although merely as a cool and distant observer since he
found this race cruel, stubborn, and impossible to understand. Indians
were totally alien to him and, as such, ungraspable. Furthermore, given
their innate and profound savagery (Ventura's brother, Francisco, warns
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about the cannibalistic practices that endure a m o n g some groups of

Indians in his famous sociological study published in French, Le Pérou
contemporain), the white man must m a k e use of violence in an attempt to
- if not civilize - at least control the people that he referred to as belonging
to a " v a n q u i s h e d " and " r e s i g n e d " race.
W i t h the publication of Jorge Icaza's Huasipungo and, most particu
larly, of the unsettling El mundo es ancho y ajeno [Broad and Alien is the
World] by C i r o Alegría (1909-1967), the tradition of rousing political
portraits inaugurated by N a r c i s o Aréstegui and continued in the twen-
tienth century by Alcides A r g u e d a s t o o k a further step. T h e plot of Icaza's
novel is very similar to C i r o Alegría's: in both instances Indians are
forcefully driven out of traditionally c o m m u n a l lands. H o w e v e r Alegría,
w h o had spent his childhood on his grandfather's country estate, gave a
more accurate v i e w of Indian life than his colleague from Ecuador.
El mundo es ancho y ajeno is divided into t w o parts, the first of w h i c h
can be categorized as a cycle of defeat (under R o s e n d o M a q u i , emblem of
Indian tradition, c o m m u n a l values, and the past); and the second, as a
cycle of hope (under Benito C a s t r o w h o brings to the ancestral c o m m u n a l
values the advantages of progress learned in the white man's w o r l d ) . In
both novels - Icaza's and A l e g r í a ' s - the Indian is demonstrably ineffec
tual w h e n it comes to battling in a society ruled by a white establishment.
Y e t while the former's characters just run themselves into the ground, the
latter's are s h o w n the path to salvation. T h i s path is simply a dramatiza
tion of the political p r o g r a m hailed by the left-wing APR A party - Alianza
Popular Revolucionaria Americana - w h o s e leader, V i c t o r R a ú l H a y a de
la T o r r e (1895-1979), advocated an alliance between w o r k e r s and
intellectuals.
T h e apristas saw in the c o m m u n a l structure basic to the Incario a
predisposition or, more exactly, a fertile ground for Socialism. H o w e v e r ,
in order to bring traditional communities into the present, the Indian had
to be taught the culture w h i c h governed his country. T h i s is exactly w h a t
the character of Benito C a s t r o w a s charged w i t h in El mundo es ancho y
ajeno. Because Benito had been forced to leave the c o m m u n i t y and see the
w o r l d , he becomes wise to its w a y s . U p o n his return, seventeen years later,
he set out to change the archaic beliefs that hinder the c o m m u n e of R u m i
from entering into the twentieth century. A l t h o u g h he meets w i t h a great
deal of rejection from the strongly traditional elders, the n e w order and
truth he represents are, in the end, recognized by the comuneros. Benito is
eventually elected m a y o r and the c o m m u n i t y k n o w s prosperity under his
direction. H o w e v e r prosperity does not last in a w o r l d ruled by the greed
of landowners. T h e Indians of R u m i - as is the case w i t h the c o m m u n i t y
depicted in Icaza's Huasipungo - are massacred d o w n to the last man
w h e n the troops are sent in.
148
T h e endings of both novels are c o m p a r a b l e and yet, thematically

speaking, they are very different. Icaza's Indian lives sordidly and dies
fruitlessly. H e finds neither hope nor help for pain in an alien w o r l d that
exploits him w i t h o u t respite. In contrast, El mundo es ancho y ajeno
provided the blueprint for salvation in its aprista slate: to preserve the
c o m m u n a l values of the past while learning the political and economic
structure of the present, in order to end, once and for all, the self-
d a m a g i n g isolation under w h i c h Indians had taken umbrage since the
Conquest.
T h e moral of Alegria's drama rings clear: G o d saves those w h o save
themselves. T h e Indian must step into modern society of his o w n accord
with the help of those w h o feel the injustice of his situation. A n d w h a t is an
Indian that has learned the w a y s of the white man's world? A cholo, an
indio ladinizado, the heroes of the mestizo sagas that begin to proliferate
after the 1930s, written by the third generation of Indigenistas. W e have
here, as A n g e l R a m a points out in his important Transculturación
narrativa en America Latina, a literature written for and by the l o w e r
middle or mestizo classes that are rising socially and economically and feel
hampered by the well-rooted and all-controlling landowners.
T h e 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s were trying times for Peru, M e x i c o ,
and G u a t e m a l a , a time w h e n these countries lived through hazardous
changes. T h e highlands of Peru, for instance, of difficult access since the
days of the C o n q u e s t , became approachable after a massive road-building
campaign in the last years of the 1920s. C o m m e r c i a l culture came
k n o c k i n g at the d o o r of the last bastions of Indian life, some living in a
state of semi-isolation since the C o n q u e s t . W i t h roads came progress,
medicines, b o o k s , but also the destruction of c o m m u n a l roots and
traditional w a y s w h i c h had cemented together the rural communities
since the days of the Inca empire. It w a s in an attempt to preserve these
cultures that the generation of Indigenistas of w h i c h José M a r i a A r g u e d a s
w a s a member shifted its focus of interest from the transcendent
civilizations of the past to the fast disappearing ones of the present. T h e
dramatic cultural chasm, the gaping w o u n d w h i c h kept Westerners and
Indians apart racially, economically, politically, and philosophically w a s
being stitched w i t h rough kitchen thread and the needle of " p r o g r e s s . "
W h a t A n g e l R a m a refers to as the process of mesticismo had begun, even
if the combination of cultures w a s to be more counterpoint than harmony.
T h e need to save the Indian and preserve his culture held pride of place
in the review Amauta, directed by prominent politician and theorist, José
C a r l o s M a r i á t e g u i (1894—1930), w h o s e Siete ensayos de interpretation de
la realidad peruana [Seven Interpretive Essays on Peruvian Reality] is a
cornerstone of the indigenista m o v e m e n t to this day. M a r i á t e g u i s a w in
the survival of the ayllu (the basic structure in the c o m m u n a l system of the
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C A M B R I D G E H I S T O R Y OF L A T I N A M E R I C A N L I T E R A T U R E
Inca empire) the key to synchronize archaic e c o n o m i c structures w i t h

M a r x i s m . H e also explained in his "las corrientes de hoy - El indige
n i s m o " h o w this literary m o v e m e n t could not give us a strictly accurate
version of the Indian because it w a s literature written by mestizos and
Whites w h o viewed the culture from the outside.
T h e most prominent and influential author of the m o v e m e n t , José
M a r i a A r g u e d a s , takes issue w i t h the second of these statements and
spends his life attempting to translate the authentic voice of the race
w h o s e b l o o d he lovingly and painfully shared. A s a student, w h e n he read
the descriptions of Indian life in the w o r k of L ó p e z Albújar and Ventura
García C a l d e r ó n , A r g u e d a s had been profoundly shocked by the lack of
authenticity and v o w e d that he w o u l d portray the men and w o m e n from
the A n d e s as they really w e r e . Indigenismo and the reading public are both
fortunate, because this portrayal is no mere act of political canvassing. In
José M a r i a A r g u e d a s the m o v e m e n t finds a committed proselyte w h o is
also an artist of genius.
Here w a s a man w h o spoke Q u e c h u a since childhood, one w h o had
been a schoolteacher in an Indian village and had become an expert on
A n d e a n music and song. A n enduring interest in his country and the w a y s
of its people drew him first to the field of ethnology; recognition
eventually followed in the form of an appointment as H e a d of the Institute
2
of Ethnological Studies of Peru's N a t i o n a l M u s e u m of H i s t o r y . Clearly,
A r g u e d a s w a s in a g o o d position to discuss Indian culture. But this w a s
not all. H e w a s also adamant about portraying society as he experienced
it, even w h e n this meant he had to spend his life rectifying the portrait.
A s he matured professionally, the w o r l d he pictured resembled a series
of concentric circles involving relationships that expanded beyond the
overly simplified binomial opposition (between Indians and ladinos) that
characterized the short stories of Agua, his first w o r k of fiction. His
progressively more elaborate system of characterization finally culmi
nated (in Todas las sangres and in El zorro de arriba y el zorro de abajo) in
a composite portrait that extended beyond national boundaries in order
to describe the relationship between foreign imperialism, national capital
ism, and the Peruvian ruling and w o r k i n g classes.
O n the basis of his handling and elaboration of character types critics
have divided A r g u e d a s ' s fiction into three separate phases. In the first of
these, typified by Agua and greatly influenced by the constricting para
meters set out as guidelines by the generation of Amauta (guidelines that
2
A r g u e d a s has had n u m e r o u s articles on Q u e c h u a folklore, A n d e a n music, and p o p u l a r art
published in n e w s p a p e r s and journals that include La Prensa (Buenos Aires), El Comercio
(Lima), and the Revista del Museo Nacional de Lima. A handful of his n e w s p a p e r articles a b o u t
Peruvian music h a v e been b r o u g h t together in Nuestra música popular y sus intérpretes. L i m a ,
M o s c a A z u l and H o r i z o n t e Editores, 1967.
150
include an adherence to Realism, an ideological bent, and a portrayal of
the feudal structure of society), A r g u e d a s forged an isolated m i c r o c o s m in
w h i c h Indians and landholders - the c o m m u n e of T i n k i and D o n Braulio
(in " A g u a " ) , or K u t u and D o n Froylán (in " W a r m a K u y a y " ) - lash out at
each other in perpetual antagonism.
In the next phase, characterized by Yawar Fiesta and Los ríos profun
dos [Deep Rivers], the opposition becomes that between the coast and the
mountain region, the costa and the sierra, understood not merely as
geographical opposites but as c o m p l e x socio-economic and cultural
settings that are dramatically different from one another. N o t surpris
ingly, A r g u e d a s repudiated the coast, the region where an aggressive
capitalistic system (antagonistic in every w a y to the collective sense
typical of Indian communities) ruthlessly developed.
Finally, in the third phase (represented by Todas las sangres and El
zorro de arriba y el zorro de abajo), the ethnologist turned man of letters
contemplated the painful and contradictory c o m i n g together of t w o
w o r l d s - sierra and costa - w h i c h had been isolated from each other for
centuries. A t this point, as if this clash were not enough, the sinister hand
of imperialism gripped the reins in the disastrous race for p o w e r .
N o one has done more to further the aims of the indigenista novel or to
polish its tools than José M a r i a A r g u e d a s . T h i s is w h y , in a conscientious
attempt to portray the social, e c o n o m i c , and cultural forces he witnessed
around him, the author of Todas las sangres conceived five different
character types. A s early as the second phase of his w o r k , the Indians and
traditional landholders w h o people his fiction are joined by mestizos,
students, and a n e w type of property o w n e r , a sort of nouveau riche [the
new rich] latifundista w i t h political ambitions.
W i t h o u t a doubt, the greatest innovation A r g u e d a s brought about in
terms of these character types w a s the individualization and development
of the mestizo. A s early as 1952, in a c o m m u n i q u e delivered at the First
International Congress of Peruvianists, the H e a d of the Institute of
Ethnological Studies stated that men and w o m e n of mixed b l o o d repre
sented a social class that had to be contended w i t h in Peru. Self-evident
though this may seem today, such a statement jarred both the sensibility
and the credibility of many a m o n g A r g u e d a s ' s contemporaries w h o
viewed the mestizo as little more than a thorn in the flesh of national
culture. Actually, in the minds of Peruvians influenced by M a r x i s t theory
since the 1920s, the redemptive role that M a r x i s m traditionally attributed
to the proletariat had been handed over - lock, stock, and barrel - to the
full-blooded Indian masses.
A r g u e d a s , more lucid than most, set out to demonstrate h o w the future
of Peru w a s actually in the hands of the mestizo or of the indio ladinizado
w h o , like R e n d o n W i l l k a in Todas las sangres or Benito C a s t r o in El
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mundo es ancho y ajeno, has c o m e in contact with the w a y s of Western

culture. In ethnological studies as well as in fiction, he w a s to reiterate
h o w , left to their o w n devices and isolated from the w o r l d , the Indians
w o u l d soon be stripped of all they o w n e d and s w a l l o w e d by the voracious
maelstrom of capitalism. M o r e than any other, the isolated communities
needed to grasp Western thought and use it to their advantage. It w a s one
of their o w n w h o could best mediate between both w o r l d s but only after
c o m i n g in contact w i t h the ruthless society that w a s both a pall and a
saving mantle for the traditions still maintained alive within the ayllu.
W i t h this emphasis on the mestizo, the literature of Indigenismo
evolved into a third phase, one c o m m o n l y referred to as Neoindigenismo
because it posits the erstwhile disdained outcast as the redeeming element
capable of bringing about a process of acculturation. T h e figure of the
Indian, idealized by the Indianistas and exalted by the Indigenistas is
actually transcended by a g r o w i n g number of authors w h o recognize the
w o r t h of mestizo culture and envision the identity of their respective
countries as a congress of cultures.
N o t surprisingly, Neoindigenismo did not gain ground in Peruvian
literature exclusively. It proliferated north of Panama in the expert hands
of authors such as R o s a r i o Castellanos (1925-1974) and M i g u e l A n g e l
Asturias. L o n g before concerning itself w i t h the role of the mestizo in a
multiracial and multicultural society, h o w e v e r , the literature portraying
native A m e r i c a n s in G u a t e m a l a and M e x i c o evolved - as it did in Peru -
through the stages of Indianismo and Indigenismo. T h e difference in the
literature of G u a t e m a l a w a s that both tendencies were exercised by the
same authors, sometimes conjointly. For instance, in his novel La Gringa,
C a r l o s W y l d O s p i n a (1891-1956) relied on the Indian and his customs
solely as b a c k g r o u n d color, a tendency that he left behind by the time his
collection of short stories, La tierra de Los Nahuyacas appeared in print.
In this later w o r k , the tone of social protest that typified the literature of
Indigenismo rang clear. N o t only did W y l d O s p i n a give a striking and
sympathetic portrayal of the Kecchi Indians, he also decried the deleteri
ous effect of migration on laborers w h o end up losing their culture and
identity after m o v i n g to the coast.
A second G u a t e m a l a n writer to portray native A m e r i c a n s in the 1930s
w a s less clear about his aims and, even, it seems, about his convictions.
Poet and novelist Flavio Herrera (1895-1968) never quite made a choice
between aesthetic descriptions and moralizing. W h a t had formerly been
the distinguishing features of Indianismo (colorful descriptions, R o m a n t i
cism, and idealization) and Indigenismo (social protest) were lumped
together in exuberantly baroque epics such as El tigre. Herrera w a s just as
undecided about Indian culture; he criticized the exploitation of native
Americans but found them riddled w i t h insurmountable defects and
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cultural insufficiencies. Like Ventura G a r c i a C a l d e r o n in Peru, he w a s

unable to find a satisfactory solution to the problem of integrating the
indigenous inhabitants of his country into the mainstream of society, a
riddle that became the main theme of one of the most poignant indigenista
bugle-calls, written in the upsurge of optimism that followed the demise
of dictator Jorge Ubico: Entre la piedra y la cruz by M a r i o Monteforte
T o l e d o (b. 1 9 1 1 ) .
A s the t w o - e d g e d title indicates, Monteforte T o l e d o w a d e s here into
the murky zone of dual cultures w h i c h is to say - for the underdog, at least
- of the totally unresolved problem of split identities. H a v i n g shared part
of his life w i t h a full-blooded Indian w o m a n w h o s e language he learned
and in w h o s e village he lived, Monteforte had firsthand experience of his
subject.
T h e Indian, as C i r o Alegria and J. M . A r g u e d a s suggested, must
subscribe to Western culture to some degree (the " c r o s s " in Monteforte's
title) and learn from it. W h a t the author of Entre la piedra y la cruz does is
s h o w that once the Indian identifies with this culture, he is neither
accepted by the dominant society nor fully satisfied with his native
community. T h e bi-cultural hybrid w h o is smitten by ladino civilization
turns into a pariah unless, as M i g u e l A n g e l Asturias will c o m e to
demonstrate, mestizo acquisitions and accomplishments can provide a
new system of values, a culture that functions as the living reminder of a
past actualized in the daily ritual of the present.
Monteforte's novel strikes a chord of naive optimism in its last pages
w h e n its hero, L u M a t z a r , is rescued from death by the revolutionary
forces that o v e r t h r o w U b i c o in 1944 and joins them in the struggle for a
better w o r l d . His message is one of brotherhood: the ladino must feel
responsible for educating the natives and giving them faith in a mestizo
society they have never trusted. H o w e v e r , this is easier said than done.
Racial hatred - as the characters of these Indians' sagas often note
themselves - is a burning crucible in all mestizo cultures. Besides, w h y
should Indians join revolutions? W h a t will they get out of them? W i s h i n g
racial hatred and prejudice to resolve itself in a c o m m u n a l struggle for
freedom is praiseworthy but futile as long as concrete solutions to
integration are not,provided.
Even before the publication of Entre la piedra y la cruz, solutions were
proposed in G u a t e m a l a by the democratic governments that were voted
into p o w e r after the fall of U b i c o . Juan Jose A r e v a l o ' s government ( 1 9 4 4 -
1951) set up farming cooperatives, and widespread educational programs
geared to integrating the Indian into the mainstream of national life, while
Jacobo A r b e n z (president between 1951 and 1954) implemented the
A g r a r i a n R e f o r m that A r e v a l o had spent years setting afoot. Y e t even
these reforms — as history w o u l d take care to demonstrate — could not
153
mitigate racial hatred. Q u i t e the contrary, in fact. Integration had to c o m e

about as a more profound transformation in ideology and perception.
Indian culture had to be first recognized as w o r t h w h i l e and then federated
into the melting pot that w o u l d generate mestizo society.
In Peru, the task of praising and s h o w i n g objectively the w o r t h of
Indian culture befell José M a r i a A r g u e d a s . In G u a t e m a l a , this role w a s
fulfilled by M i g u e l A n g e l Asturias. Both authors provided an enlarged
concept of the Indian by including extensive glimpses of his o w n
w o r l d v i e w . Unlike earlier w o r k s of Indigenismo in w h i c h native A m e r i
cans are v i e w e d from the outside, there is in Asturias and A r g u e d a s a
desire, as Joseph Sommers so convincingly puts it, " t o penetrate beneath
the surface of Indian consciousness" ( " T h e Indian-oriented N o v e l in
Latin A m e r i c a , " 253). T h i s desire brings with it a more esoteric language
and, frequently, a type of syntax that aims to portray native speech
patterns and non-Western structures of thought.
T h e determination to m o v e beyond the former stereotype of superficial
Realism and translate the Indian psyche typifies the w o r k of Asturias, w h o
w a s determined, like A r g u e d a s , to give an accurate portrait of his people.
H e w a s admirably suited for this task. T o begin w i t h , he had an impressive
b a c k g r o u n d in ethnography and sociology. H e w a s also a mestizo on his
mother's side and had been raised in close contact w i t h the Indian and his
traditions from the time his parents were compelled to m o v e to the
isolated village of Salarna for political reasons. His interest in the native
cultures of G u a t e m a l a w a s early and lifelong, as attested by his doctoral
dissertation on " E l p r o b l e m a social del i n d i o , " written w h e n he w a s just
twenty-four (the dissertation has been reprinted by the Centre de
Recherches de l'Institut d'Etudes Hispaniques, Paris, in 1 9 7 1 ) . U p o n
reaching Europe in the first of many trips, one of Asturias's most sudden
impulses w a s to enroll on a course on M a y a n civilization taught at the
Sorbonne by G e o r g e s R a y n a u d , translator of the Popol Vuh. Neverthe
less, it is true, he did not speak any Indian languages and as regards the
sources w h i c h inspired his fiction, he only shared political c o m m i t m e n t
with Arguedas.
In this respect, and like his Peruvian counterpart, Asturias used his
w o r k as, a platform to denounce the abuse and exploitation of an
underdeveloped country by, first, a capitalistic elite, and, subsequently, an
industrialized nation. H o w e v e r , the medium for canvassing his message
w a s drastically different from A r g u e d a s ' s . In 1924, Asturias w a s dazzled
by the theoretical and formal pamphleteering of French Surrealism. T h i s
early contact w i t h the most avant-garde artistic movement of the time w a s
responsible in turn for his life-long interest in magic, the esoteric,
psychoanalysis, automatic writing, and w o r d p l a y , interests that w o u l d
154
The literature o/lndigenismo
season his o w n brand of Neoindigenismo w i t h a w h o l l y unique flavor. In

terms of formal originality, Asturias stood head and shoulders a b o v e his
fellow Indigenistas w h o s e prose, w i t h few exceptions, w a s straightfor
w a r d to the point of being terse. In contrast, his o w n brand of writing
luxuriated in o n o m a t o p o e i a s and alliteration, the reason, no doubt, w h y
critics often refer to him as "the p o e t - n a r r a t o r " (Castelpoggi, Miguel
Angel Asturias, 201).
T h e very close attention Asturias pays to surface w o r k , to the " t e x t u r e "
of fiction, must not be mistaken for dilettantism or superficiality,
h o w e v e r . His neoindigenista w o r k s , beginning w i t h Leyendas de Guate
mala, combine magic and reality on many levels, m a k i n g them as dazzling
and hermetic as the writing of James Joyce, w h o m the G u a t e m a l a n emigre
to Paris greatly admired.
T h e r e is, likewise, a w e a l t h of theoretical and referential b a c k g r o u n d
from and through w h i c h Asturias's fictional material evolves. Because of
his interest in Surrealism and his personal contact w i t h some of the key
French intellectuals of the 1920s and 1930s, Asturias discovers the w o r k of
G e o r g e s Bataille, Freud, Jung, and, eventually, of C l a u d e Lévi-Strauss and
succeeds in incorporating a number of their pet notions into the w a r p and
weft of his fiction as, for instance, in his memorable masterpiece of 1949:
Hombres de maiz.
In this w o r k , pivotal elements in the story (such as corn, water, and fire)
are linked w i t h colors, animals, and numbers in keeping w i t h their
ascribed spheres of action in M a y a n c o s m o g o n y . A l t h o u g h this associa
tion of elements is not readily apparent, it is, in fact, the unifying principle
of a novel w h i c h develops neither chronologically nor through its
protagonists but, rather, through a character substitution principle that is
based on clusters of elements interlinked amongst themselves. By means
of such an elaborate p y r a m i d of symbols, Asturias's novel harks back to
the Popul Vuh, clothing the ancient Q u i c h e manuscript in modern garb
and bringing together past and present, tradition and the modern w o r l d
w i t h a deftness that is only beginning to be understood as one of the most
daring experiments in the history of the modern Latin A m e r i c a n novel.
For his next Neoindigenista novel, Mutata de tal [Mulata], Asturias
recasts one of the mainstays of w o r l d folklore, namely, the tale of the p o o r
peasant w h o trades off his wife to the devil in e x c h a n g e for wealth.
H u m o r o u s , zany, and often grotesque, this allegory of the painful
dilemma posed by dependency in developing nations translates the
author's weariness after the fall of G u a t e m a l a n President J a c o b o A r b e n z .
In 1954, C o l o n e l C a r l o s Castillo A r m a s ' s revocation of the A r b e n z
A g r a r i a n R e f o r m L a w becomes, in Asturias's eyes, a catastrophe
announcing the demise of the very same men of maize he had likened to
155
the M a y a n corn g o d in Hombres de maíz. T h i s is w h y Mulata de tal ends

in a holocaust in w h i c h the angry voices of the unborn, of history capsized,
as it w e r e , cry out in anger " w e w a n t to be b o r n " (p. 297).
Asturias, like José M a r i a A r g u e d a s , conceives an angry response to the
historical situation around him. For this reason, Mulata de tal, like El
zorro de arriba y el zorro de abajo, is a b o o k that teems w i t h disappoint
ment and rage. Y e t , the very fact that these despondent w o r k s were
written confirms the sustained hope of evolution and reform that typifies
both authors, the t w o men w h o - along w i t h M e x i c o ' s R o s a r i o Castella
nos - have done the most to interlace their fiction, written in Spanish, w i t h
the idioms, thought patterns, songs, and legends of the Indian cultures of
A m e r i c a in order to create a literature that is mestizo to the same degree as
the characters it portrays. Herein lies their uniqueness as well as their
greatness. Theirs is a message for the men and w o m e n of A m e r i c a to
struggle, unite, and give birth, once and for all, to w h a t M e x i c a n Minister
of Public Education (1920-1924) José V a s c o n c e l o s referred to as "the
cosmic r a c e " .
T h e s e three authors g o much b e y o n d the generation of Indigenistas
w h o s e w o r k precedes - and sometimes coincides w i t h - the publication of
their o w n . T h e i r brand of writing brings together Western techniques
with stylistic elements from Indian literature creating the first major
disruption in our hemisphere of the mimetic tradition that typifies
European literature. T h i s is w h y Neoindigenismo should be viewed as not
merely the most recent phase, but also as the most mature and, stylistically
speaking, the most consumately conceived m o m e n t in the history of this
entire literary tendency.
D u r i n g the years in w h i c h A r g u e d a s and Asturias were advocating
social change and translating the struggle for integration, authors further
to the north were actively responding to the aims and goals set forth by the
M e x i c a n R e v o l u t i o n of 1 9 1 0 regarding the native population and their
civil rights. M e x i c a n literature of this century in w h i c h the Indian is
portrayed follows three types of approaches. First of all, there are tales of
artistic ethnology produced by a handful of anthropologically oriented
authors such as R i c a r d o Pozas (b. 1912); second, there are realistic
narratives of social protest - La bruma lo vuelve azul by R a m ó n R u b í n (b.
1912) is a case in point - that respond to the traditional model of
Indigenismo-, and third, there are those, namely R o s a r i o Castellanos, w h o
mix techniques and transform language in order to echo w h a t they see as
the Indian's inner voice.
In M e x i c o the interest in the Indian has, in the w o r d s of Gabriella de
Beer, an almost "scientific" quality (p. 560). A number of anthropologists
such as Pozas, or writers, teachers, and journalists w i t h training in
anthropology (Carlo A n t o n i o C a s t r o , for instance) have conducted highly
156
w r o u g h t interviews w h i c h they have later used as a source of inspiration

or published, with few changes, as a first person narrative or novela
testimonio. T h e best-known e x a m p l e of this technique is the erudite
3
m o n o g r a p h of C h a m u l a Indian culture w h i c h Pozas publishes under the
title of Juan Perez Jolote, Biografia de un tzotzil after the actual name of
one of his Indian informants. Pozas's novela testimonio is interesting for
many reasons, not least of w h i c h is the meticulous objectivity (for
instance, the author restricts himself to less than 1,300 w o r d s in an effort
to accurately portray his informants' adequate but limited k n o w l e d g e of
Spanish) w h i c h takes it beyond the ideological manipulation typical of
Indigenismo in its earlier phases.
T h i s same objectivity a l l o w s Pozas to avoid the over-folkloric emphasis
that mars many an indigenista novel and guides his steps in portraying a
T z o t z i l Indian's social life as he comes into contact w i t h Western
civilization. H o w e v e r , such objectivity must not belie the fact that Pozas
uses the informants' reports according to a social plan of his o w n w h i c h ,
as Jean Franco notes, is "the study of h o w , in revolutionary M e x i c o ,
social change is integrated into the life of a c o m m u n i t y " (p. 261). Juan
Perez Jolote is, therefore, a w o r k of " a n t h r o p o l o g i c a l recreation" (p. 506),
to b o r r o w Cesar R o d r i g u e z C h i c h a r r o ' s terms, and not a case study. Be
that as it may, and even if some measure of recreation is involved, Pozas's
w o r k a l l o w s us to witness the Indian w o r l d from the inside: the authorial
hand and attitude are almost conspicuous in their absence.
T h e same is true of C a r l o A n t o n i o C a s t r o ' s short narrative, " C h e N d u :
ejidatario c h i n a n t e c o " (in La Palabra y el Hombre), w i t h the one
difference that this w o r k is much more universal than Pozas's in its
concern with matters of w o r l d - w i d e significance such as life, death, and
love, even w h e n its focus is the life of a man in an isolated c o m m u n i t y . A
second interesting contrast between C h e N d u , the protagonist, and
Pozas's Juan Perez is that the former is receptive to the benefits of Western
civilization. T h i s is the one exception to the M e x i c a n novels of this period
in w h i c h authors systematically demonstrate the destructive effect of
Western culture on the Indians' w a y of life.
Indian protagonists, such as R a m o n R u b i n ' s K a n a m a y e (in La bruma lo
vuelve azul), are torn between t w o cultures in an identity crisis that is
translated, in this specific instance, by portraying the hero's origins as an
enigma: is he all Indian or part ladino} T h e enigma is never resolved
although the question of identity is explicitly answered by a village elder
w h o tells the confused, humiliated, and, by then, criminal K a n a m a y e , that
he is the w o r s t thing one can be: " a n Indian t u r n c o a t " (p. 1 5 7 ) . T h e
3
" C h a m u l a " is the n a m e given to a g r o u p of over 16,000 individuals w h o speak T z o t z i l and live
in the m o u n t a i n s a r o u n d San C r i s t o b a l , near C i u d a d L a s C a s a s . T h e i r center is the t o w n o f
C h a m u l a - a ceremonial city w h e r e political and religious authorities reside.
157
CAMBRIDGE HISTORY OF L A T I N A M E R I C A N LITERATURE
message, as in R u b i n ' s better k n o w n El callado dolor de los tzotziles is that

ladino society destroys the Indian. If K a n a m a y e had stayed in his village
he w o u l d have obeyed the l a w , but, having been contaminated by the
outside w o r l d , he has lost the moral and spiritual support w h i c h the
mother culture gave him. A s R u b i n indicates in the ominous epigraph to
El callado dolor: " C i v i l i z a t i o n is like the abyss: it is easy to slide d o w n into
i t . . . but w h o e v e r tries to c r a w l out once he has reached the b o t t o m is sadly
wasting his t i m e . "
T h i s attitude is evident even in the typical example of social Realism
that follows the M e x i c a n R e v o l u t i o n , El Indio [El indio] by G r e g o r i o
L o p e z y Fuentes. T h i s fascinating study contains all the standard themes,
and suffers from the typical flaw, that w e a k e n the literary impact of
Indigenismo: namely, the tendency to proselytize.
A s is customary, Indians in this novel are portrayed as the instrument
and object of ladino vanity and greed. T h e element of surprise comes in
the last chapters where an indio ladinizado begins by becoming a social
and political activistand obtains improvements for his people. T h e reader
soon discovers, h o w e v e r , that ambition wears the same colored coat in all
cultures. T o begin w i t h , the revolutionary ladino deputies w h o are
ostensibly helping the Indians need contributions to be re-elected and ask
the natives for help. In addition, the Indians, n o w politically involved in
the revolutionary effort, have no time, as they did in the old days, to till the
lands they have recently received from the government. L o p e z y Fuentes
ends the novel by suggesting that while the Indian political activist has
improved his lot after receiving an appointment to City C o u n c i l , tra
ditional Indians find themselves in an extremely defensive position: all
they have obtained is impending violence from angered ladinos w h o have
lost property and are avidly searching for a scapegoat.
W o r k s of literature that are directly aligned with the novel of the
Revolution - such as El Indio, and El resplandor (1937) by M a u r i c i o
M a g d a l e n o (b. 1906) - touch upon ideological questions in a suitably
p r o v o k i n g manner without, as Joseph Sommers indicates, " p o r t r a y i n g
convincing Indian individuals in the context of their o w n culture" ( " T h e
Indian-oriented N o v e l , " 262). In M e x i c o , the focus on the Indian seen
within his o w n cultural context is the domain of the so-called " C i c l o de
C h i a p a s , " a masterful string of novels and short stories in w h i c h the
action takes place in this southernmost region of the country. T h e authors
w h o s e w o r k merges into the " C h i a p a s C y c l e " are: R i c a r d o Pozas, R a m o n
Rubin, C a r l o A n t o n i o C a s t r o , M a r i a L o m b a r d o de C a s o , and R o s a r i o
Castellanos, the recognized virtuoso of the g r o u p .
Castellanos's Neoindigenista novels follow one another in an ever-
improving progression that culminates with the widely acclaimed master
piece of the " C i c l o de C h i a p a s " : Oficio de tinieblas. Both her first novel,
158
Balún cañan, and Oficio de tinieblas d r a w on the author's experience in

the state of C h i a p a s , where she spent her childhood. T h e focus of the
earlier w o r k is the tense relationship between Indians and ladinos during
the presidency of L á z a r o Cárdenas w h e n the y o u n g narrator's family, like
all landowners in C h i a p a s , suffered major financial setbacks and s a w its
p o w e r and position vis-á-vis the Indians seriously threatened for the first
time since the C o n q u e s t .
T h e legends and beliefs of the T z e t z a l Indians permeate the narration;
in fact, Castellanos incorporates sections from ancient M a y a manuscripts
including passages from the story of the creation of man that hark back to
the Popol Vuh. It is true that, as M a r t i n Lienhard observes in a very
important article, this use of a highly stylized and ancient rhetoric appears
artificial in the mouths of modern-day Indians. In other w o r d s , it is totally
p a r a d o x i c a l that whenever Castellanos w a n t s to suggest the flavor of
contemporary Indian discourse, she resorts to the model provided by the
translations of ancient M a y a texts (Lienhard, " L a legitimación indígena
en dos novelas centroamericanas," 1 1 5 ) .
T h e Indian language of Balún canán may well be inauthentic but, then
again, h o w could it be otherwise w h e n the narrator is a ladino girl? She, as
Ernesto in Los ríos profundos, acts as a filter through w h i c h " r e a l i t y , "
even if s o m e w h a t disfigured by age and a cultural bias, is portrayed. T h e
merit and advantage of including passages from the Popol Vuh is also
underscored by Lienhard w h e n he explains h o w the ancient rhetoric
imbues w i t h its prestige the modern and - in the eyes of the ladinos - the
" i m p o v e r i s h e d " Indian language, investing it w i t h n e w dignity. T h i s , of
course, is also w h a t M i g u e l A n g e l Asturias strove to d o all his life: create
an A m e r i c a n idiom that w o u l d actualize the ancient traditions of
M e s o a m e r i c a . It comes as no surprise, therefore, that Castellanos w a s a
great admirer of the G u a t e m a l a n author. T h a t her writing develops in a
totally different direction from his, h o w e v e r , is made amply evident in
Oficio de tinieblas.
Using as her point of departure and source of inspiration the messianic
4
revolt of the T z o t z i l Indians (1868-1870), Castellanos conceived a vast
frieze of culture in C h i a p a s at the time of Cárdenas and in the years that
followed. T h e action focuses on the intimate lives of Indians and ladinos,
both men and w o m e n , bringing to light the most thorough and c o m p l e x
study of Indian character in the literature of Indigenismo: the ilol, or
interpreter of the T z o t z i l mystic and supernatural beliefs, Catalina D i a z
Puiljá.
Catalina's sterility and the frustration that ensues from not conceiving
4
A c c o r d i n g to Lienhard, C a s t e l l a n o s ' s source w a s V . V i c e n t e Pineda: Historia de las subleva-
ciones indígenas habidas en el estado de Chiapas. Gramática de las lengua tzel-tal. C h i a p a s ,
Imprenta del G o b i e r n o , 1888.
159
(a terrible blemish a m o n g the Tzotzil) are s h o w n to be at the root of the

Indian revolt w h i c h she engineers by promising immortality to her people
after the immolation of their o w n Christ figure: the child she had raised
and given up to be crucified on G o o d Friday. T h e novel depicts passion,
ambition, and pride through a dual focus on t o w n (San Cristóbal) and
village (San Juan C h a m u l a ) , on ladinos and Indians, demonstrating, much
more explicitly than any w o r k of Indigenismo before it, that all men are
equal even w h e n they refuse to treat each other as such.
Equally dual is the chronological conception of the novel. Western time
- specifically, the period of L á z a r o Cárdenas's government and the
ensuing years in w h i c h the aims of the R e v o l u t i o n c o m e of age and efforts
are made to implement the A g r a r i a n R e f o r m L a w — is historical. Indian
time, on the other hand, is cyclical, based on myths w h i c h are celebrated
as a perpetual re-enactment that guarantees continuity. Besides a dual
setting and t w o conceptions of time, the novel has a deeply religious and
mythical b a c k d r o p . T h i s religious element transpires already in the title,
an overt allusion to the Passion of Christ w h i c h is re-enacted by the
Indians w i t h a h u m a n sacrifice in the church of San Juan C h a m u l a and is
not w i t h o u t the suggestion of the eventual likelihood of resurrection (of
Indian culture, perhaps?) as Sommers astutely observes ("El C i c l o de
C h i a p a s , " 259).
T h e time for renewal is not the present, h o w e v e r . Induced by Catalina,
the Indians revolt and are miserably defeated. Even Cárdenas's official
representative - a man w h o encouraged them and fought on their side - is
torn to pieces by the angry m o b of C i u d a d Real in order to stop the l a w
from sending him to M e x i c o City where there is no death penalty.
Interestingly, the Indian defeat is never described as part of the action; it is
merely alluded to after the fact. By abstracting it from the novel,
Castellanos qualifies the Indians' revolt as a non-entity, a failed, annulled
event.
T h e T z o t z i l that survive take to the high mountains; they have been
beaten, the w o m e n raped, their brothers massacred. T h e y have lost their
sense of unity, their pride, their tribal structure. O n l y the will to survive
remains. T h e i r clothing is torn, they have gone back to w e a r i n g barely
tanned animal hides. Historical time and " p r o g r e s s " have been relin
quished. O n l y mythic time endures: the tale of their revolt and the events
leading up to it b e c o m e a legend repeated by the Indian nana as something
w h i c h t o o k place long before her charge, Idolina, had been born.
Castellanos substantiates h o w the objectives of the R e v o l u t i o n amount to
naught as far as the Indians are concerned. She openly defies official
government policy by pointing out that the goals of Cárdenas's govern
ment are far from being attained, that many so-called " r e f o r m s " have
160
gone a w r y and that perhaps even the w a y in w h i c h the Indian is being

approached is totally insensitive to his culture.
Such defiance of government policy is one of the traits that typify the
authors comprising the " C i c l o de C h i a p a s . " T h e i r novels, one and all,
amply demonstrate that the Indian stands alone and isolated in spite of all
the reforms enacted in order to integrate him into society. A s Sommers
points out, Juan Perez Jolote is marginalized by society even though he
has risked his life for the sake of the R e v o l u t i o n ("El C i c l o de C h i a p a s , "
260). W h a t becomes rapidly evident is that such critical distance vis-a-vis
Revolutionary goals puts a n e w face on the literature of Indigenismo.
After the period of optimism in the decade of the 1940s (one thinks
immediately of El mundo es ancho y ajeno and Hombres de maiz, novels
that announce the possibility of a mestizo society), w e have with the
" C i c l o de C h i a p a s " a more lucid depiction of a situation that is, to this
day, highly unresolved.
Nineteenth- and early twentieth-century authors pointed out the need
to improve the Indian's lot; the indigenista novels from the 1910s to the
1920s s h o w e d that in order to improve it, a revolution w o u l d be required.
T h r e e decades later, the Neoindigenistas stepped in to s h o w that the path
to salvation must c o m e through the indio ladinizado. Closer to our time,
the writers of the " C i c l o de C h i a p a s " suggest that the Indians w h o have
c o m e in contact w i t h Western society either lose their identity and are
alienated from both w o r l d s , or settle into white t o w n s to improve their
o w n lives, thinking about their fellow Indians back in the village only
w h e n an opportunity arises to get something out of them.
T h e truth of the matter is that the phase of optimism announced by
Alegria in El mundo es ancho y ajeno has been superseded by a phase of
disappointment grounded in historical fact. T h e question left unans
wered, of course, is: where, at this point, should the Indian turn? H o w are
his goals and needs to be represented in the n e w literature of Indigenismo}
Critics, a vast majority of them, have been announcing the demise of
indigenista literature for almost three decades. T h e y affirm that this
literary tendency has fulfilled its goals w h e n , in fact, as can be readily
adduced, the problem it portrays is w h o l l y unresolved. It is in an attempt
to c o m e to grips w i t h this problem that a remarkable poet and man of
action steps forward.
Before he died in a tragic plane accident in 1983, M a n u e l Scorza
completed one of the t o w e r i n g achievements of neoindigenista literature:
a five-volume chronicle of peasant revolt in the Peruvian A n d e s entitled
" L a Guerra Silenciosa." A s C o r n e j o Polar points out, Scorza's creation
responds to the parameters of Neoindegenismo through the f o l l o w i n g
features: first, the ubiquitous use of M a g i c a l Realism to reveal the mythic
161
C A M B R I D G E H I S T O R Y OF L A T I N A M E R I C A N L I T E R A T U R E
dimension o f the indigenous w o r l d ; second, a heightened lyricism; and,

third, an amplification and supplementation (when c o m p a r e d w i t h earlier
examples o f indigenista literature) of technical devices and experimen
tation ("Sobre el ' N e o i n d i g e n i s m o ' , " Literatura y sociedad en el Perú
549).
T h e manner in w h i c h these ingredients are combined is totally n e w ,
moreover. T o begin w i t h , Scorza, like the authors w h o engendered the
" C i c l o de C h i a p a s , " supersedes, w i t h one exception, the level o f propa
ganda. In addition, he makes no attempt to internalize the style and
5
rhetoric o f ancient Indian manuscripts. A s a result, the language of " L a
Guerra Silenciosa" is less ponderous, more light-handedly lyrical, and
very often hilarious. T h e fact that he w a s a first-hand witness of, and, to
some degree, an actor in the Central A n d e a n uprisings described in the
6
saga is in no small measure responsible for the immediacy of the a c t i o n .
So, t o o , Scorza's interest in the authors of the Boom colors his prose; his
writing is closer in flavor to that of Gabriel G a r c í a M á r q u e z (b. 1928),
than to that of other indigenista authors. T h i s h o m o l o g y is most readily
perceived in the handling and portrayal o f myth, a constitutive element in
the first four novels o f " L a Guerra Silenciosa."
In Redoble por Raneas, for instance, one character speaks to horses and
is understood by them; another one, the protagonist o f Historia de
Gar abombo el invisible, cannot be seen because, since ladinos refuse to see
Indians, w h y shouldn't the hero take advantage o f a figure o f speech in the
action of the novel? Instead of presenting these mythic beliefs through a
referent or w i t h a critical distance, Scorza incorporates them into the
fiction w i t h o u t in any w a y passing judgment on either the uproariously
outlandish events or the poignantly tragic reality. In other w o r d s , the
w o r l d v i e w described in these novels is the Indians'; w h a t the ladino w o r l d
qualifies as legend is, in this instance, portrayed as reality. H o w e v e r , this is
a statement that must be qualified.
By the time w e reach the fifth novel, La tumba del relámpago, belief in
myths is s h o w n to be insufficient in the face o f the all-powerful C e r r o de
Pasco C o r p o r a t i o n that is s w a l l o w i n g up Peru and all its wealth. It is at
this point that Scorza's w o r k becomes didactic as well as polemical
suggesting "the need to elaborate a revolutionary tactic and strategy that
will end the limitations of mythic thought, in this r e a l m " (Cornejo Polar,
" S o b r e el ' N e o i n d i g e n i s m o ' , " 5 5 6 ) . M y t h i c discourse shrivels and even
tually fades, indicating the need to question and recast revolutionary
5
Specific references are made to the myth of Inkarri but in every other instance, the myths
portrayed in the fiction are the author's creations and an attempt to improvise the mental
structures that typify Indian thought.
6
In the prologue to Redoble por Raneas, Scorza states: "more than a novelist, the author is a
witness." True to his word, in the last installment of "La Guerra Silenciosa" he figures as a
character under his own name.
162
thought in order to m a k e it a w o r k i n g tool for Indians and peasants. T h i s ,

Scorza advances, must b e c o m e the g o a l of the next revolution because, as
one character in La tumba del relámpago w r y l y observes, "the scandal of
our struggle is that it doesn't coincide w i t h our ideology; rage and courage
belong here, on this side, while ideas are theirs and not o u r s " (p. 225).
T h e Indian is caught in a culture-shattering quandary: the myth that
compensates for a bitter reality is to him both bridle and spur; it keeps him
bound and strapped to the traditions of the past w h i l e , at the same time,
happily invigorated w i t h the culture of his ancestors. W h y tear Indians
a w a y from the beliefs that nurture them? Y e t , it must be done. T h e
question is h o w ?
T h e ex-aprista and Political Secretary of the C o m m u n a l M o v e m e n t of
Peru echoes J. M . A r g u e d a s ' s criticism vis-á-vis C o m m u n i s t s and Apristas
w h o harp on tried-and-false ideologies instead of forging new ones;
especially since the problem at hand has not changed significantly since
the nineteenth century: h o w can archaic Indian societies be integrated into
the modern w o r l d to their o w n e c o n o m i c advantage but not to the
detriment of Indian culture? " L a G u e r r a Silenciosa" remains open-ended
regarding this burning question. Like Todas las sangres, it posits a need
and provides a burning incentive to both society and the writing
establishment. W h a t the answer will be remains for A m e r i c a and the
indigenista novel of the future to resolve.
163

The Literature of Indigenismo: René Prieto

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[ 4 ]

The literature of Indigenismo

T h e history of colonial and republican A m e r i c a is also - in its margins,

[Iracema, the Honey Lips], another romance of impossible love written by

A s the romantic school recast the long-standing tradition of c o m p a s ­

strate h o w Aréstegui's views on his country's native inhabitants are really

seminal trilogy has been showered w i t h more praise for w h a t w a s long

kind of racial integration she advocated, for instance, in an editorial

Born like G o n z á l e z Prada into a family of wealthy land o w n e r s , C a s t r o

success in enlisting the reader's sympathy in favor of native Americans.

about the cannibalistic practices that endure a m o n g some groups of

T h e endings of both novels are c o m p a r a b l e and yet, thematically

Inca empire) the key to synchronize archaic e c o n o m i c structures w i t h

mundo es ancho y ajeno, has c o m e in contact with the w a y s of Western

cultural insufficiencies. Like Ventura G a r c i a C a l d e r o n in Peru, he w a s

mitigate racial hatred. Q u i t e the contrary, in fact. Integration had to c o m e

season his o w n brand of Neoindigenismo w i t h a w h o l l y unique flavor. In

the M a y a n corn g o d in Hombres de maíz. T h i s is w h y Mulata de tal ends

w r o u g h t interviews w h i c h they have later used as a source of inspiration

message, as in R u b i n ' s better k n o w n El callado dolor de los tzotziles is that

Balún cañan, and Oficio de tinieblas d r a w on the author's experience in

(a terrible blemish a m o n g the Tzotzil) are s h o w n to be at the root of the

gone a w r y and that perhaps even the w a y in w h i c h the Indian is being

dimension o f the indigenous w o r l d ; second, a heightened lyricism; and,

thought in order to m a k e it a w o r k i n g tool for Indians and peasants. T h i s ,

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A s the romantic school recast the long-standing tradition of c o m p a s