Death in the Hills: The Mountains as a Place of Refuge and Dying for Steinbeck's

Mexican Characters
Author(s): Eric Skipper
Source: The Steinbeck Review , Fall 2004, Vol. 1, No. 2 (Fall 2004), pp. 78-88
Published by: Penn State University Press

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/41583614

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 Death in the Hills: The Mountains
as a Place of Refuge and Dying for
Steinbeck's Mexican Characters

Eric Skipper
Augusta State University

John Steinbeck grew up around Spanish-speaking people and had a spe-

cial affinity for Mexicans and the Mexican culture. He developed a work-
ing knowledge of the Spanish language and made numerous trips to Mex-
ico once he had enough money to do so. He became an expert on the
Mexican Revolution, Emiliano Zapata in particular. Nowhere is his affin-
ity for the Mexican culture more evident than in his work, about half of
which contains Mexicans or Mexican Americans in some role or other.
An intriguing aspect of Steinbeck's fiction is his tendency to associate
Mexican characters with the mountains. The association is made all the more
poignant due to the themes of refuge and death that occur there. The short
story "Flight" (1933) and the novel The Pearl (1945) are obvious examples. In
both, the Mexican heroes flee into mysterious and foreboding mountains to
avoid death, only to encounter it in some form or other in the end. In the
story "The Great Mountains" (1933), the old paisano Gitano rides off into the
mountains to die. A closer look reveals other works linking Mexicans to the
mountains, still with themes of sanctuary or death lurking near. In The Pas-
tures of Heaven (1932) a group of Indians (perhaps some of the first Mexican-
Indians) are pursued into the mountains by Spanish conquistadores. In To a
God Unknown (1933) the Mexican cattlehand Juanito hides in the mountains
after killing Joseph Wayne's brother, Benjy. In the film Viva Zapata! (1952),
the mountains provide a safe haven for the revolutionary general. They also
serve as the setting for Zapata's initial encounter with Fernando, a fictional
composite of all Zapata's betrayers, who ultimately plots his death.

The Steinbeck Review, Volume 1, Fall 2004 78

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 Death in the Hills * 79

Two other works follow the theme on a lighter scale. In The Wayward
Bus (1947) Juan Chicoy drives his passengers into the hills in order to
avoid a flood, giving them a chance at both physical and spiritual salva-
tion. In Tortilla Flat (1935) Steinbeck situates Danny and his paisano
friends in an elevated district overlooking Monterey, although, as Jackson
J. Benson notes in The True Adventures of John Steinbeck, Writer , "their
real-life counterparts . . . did not live in Tortilla Flat."1 Both works lack suf-
ficient elements of refuge or death in a mountain setting to be included in
this study.
In John Steinbeck's Re-vision of America, Louis Owens has established the
Santa Lucia Mountains as the setting for portions of "Flight," "The Great
Mountains," and To a God Unknown and notes that the mountains in The
Pearl bear a strong resemblance to those in "Flight."2 He makes the case that
"Death in these mountains ... is a transcendent experience in which one
may achieve a new-world vision and become recognizably and even con-
sciously a part of the 'whole.'"3 He notes that Steinbeck's concept of tran-
scendence to a realm of "wholeness" has a bevy of potential influences -
among them the sacrificial deaths of Jesus Christ and Sir James Frazer's
fisher-king; the beliefs of the natives of northern Mexico, whom Steinbeck
wrote about in The Log from the Sea of Cortez (1951); and the theories of
the mythologist Joseph Campbell, a personal friend of Steinbeck's. In any
case, the intent here is not to expand on Owens's assertions but to establish
some rationale behind the penchant Steinbeck's Mexicans have for ending
up in the mountains, more often that not with the simple goal of self-
preservation.
Chronologically, the pattern is initiated in The Pastures of Heaven. In the
opening scene a Spanish corporal and his posse pursue an escaped band of
recently converted Indians "up the Carmen valley and into the mountains
beyond."4 These escapees might technically be among the first Mexican-
Indians, since at the time (1776) the boundaries of Mexico extended far
into what is now California. In any case, the purpose of the corporal is "to
restore these erring children to the bosom of Mother Church" and "to give
the poor neophytes a chance at repentance in the clay pits."5 Whether they
like it or not, these recaptured Indians are well on the way to becoming
Hispanicized, at least in religion and speech. Another antecedent is estab-
lished here: some type of criminal activity, incidental or not, precedes the

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80 * Eric Skipper

flight of every Mexican concerned in this study. In this case, the Indians are
heretics; they have abandoned the Catholic religion. They are discovered
"practicing abominations in the bottom of a ferny canyon . . . that is, the
twenty heretics were fast asleep in attitudes of abandon."6
In To a God Unknown the mountain-bound hero is Joseph Wayne, a
non-Hispanic. The plight of the Mexican cattlehand Juanito closely paral-
lels Wayne's, however. After killing Benjy, Juanito advises Wayne that he is
headed for the mountains. He, like Gitano in "The Great Mountains,"
seeks death there, but his objective is thwarted when Wayne refuses to stab
him. After a period of exile in which he watches over the dream-tormented
Willie until his companion hangs himself, Juanito reunites with Wayne at
the same spot in the mountains, beside the mysterious rock on which
Joseph Wayne will later commit suicide. Juanito insists on remaining with
Wayne through the drought season but is rejected again. Two days later
Wayne takes his own life in a symbolic gesture that ends the drought.
Several important antecedents are established in To a God Unknown
that carry through to the next three works (coinciden tally, the most im-
portant ones) examined in this study: "Flight," "The Great Mountains,"
and The Pearl The Santa Lucia Mountains provide the setting; an individ-
ual takes flight, as opposed to a group of people; knives are established as
the Mexican's weapon of choice (Juanito kills Benjy with a knife and asks
Joseph Wayne to stab him). Lastly, the transcendent experience, or "whole-
ness," as described by Owens, is established with Joseph Wayne and con-
tinues in the characters of Pepé ("Flight"), Kino ( The Pearl), Gitano ("The
Great Mountains"), and General Zapata ( Viva Zapata!). Whereas Joseph
Wayne's suicide elevates him to a godlike status, Pepé's death brings about
the less-spectacular transition of boyhood to manhood. Similar to Pepé in
his organic relation to the mountains, Kino, through the death of his son,
transcends tragedy to achieve superhuman status. Gitano achieves a final
symbolic union with the mountains, which are as mysterious as he. Gen-
eral Zapata, whose ultimate betrayer meets him in the mountains, be-
comes a folk hero after his death, believed by many still to be hiding out in
the mountains.
The flight episodes in "Flight" and The Pearl bear striking similarities
from beginning to end. In each the hero has killed someone and flees into
the mountains to escape the consequences of his actions. In "Flight" Pepé

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 Death in the Hills * 81

has killed a man in town after being insulted. In The Pearl Kino kills a man
who attacks him and tries to steal the pearl. Each uses a knife and each kills
quickly and almost as if by accident: the knife darts from Pepé's hand be-
fore he knows it; Kino is attacked in the dark and reacts in self-defense.
Pepé goes into the mountains alone; although Kino has the added respon-
sibility of protecting his wife and son, he ultimately works alone in at-
tempting to conceal his family's tracks and in physically confronting his
pursuers. Owens notes the striking resemblance between the two moun-
tain ranges: "In The Pearl . . . Steinbeck takes us into a range of dark, des-
olate, and devouring mountains strikingly similar to those we encountered
in 'Flight.'"7 Both heroes ultimately encounter death: Pepé encounters his
own; Kino, his son Coyotito's. Owens observes that each comes of age in
the end: "the experience makes Pepé a man and Kino ... a man transcen-
dent and set apart."8
In "The Great Mountains" the old paisano Gitano goes off into the Santa
Lucia Mountains as Pepé does in "Flight." Whereas Pepé tries to escape
death in the mountains, Gitano seeks it there. His only crime is stealing the
old horse Easter, which Jody's father has no use for anyway. After Jody's fa-
ther likens the old paisano to the horse in his old age and uselessness, Gi-
tano rides the broken animal into the mountains with his rapier, presum-
ably to end his own life. These mountains, which the boy Jody considers
savage and terrible, hardly seem a suitable setting for a peaceful, voluntary
death. But the union becomes more plausible when Jody identifies Gitano
with the mountains: "Gitano was mysterious like the mountains . . . behind
the last range piled up against the sky there was a great unknown country.
. . . And in behind [Gitano's eyes] was some unknown thing."9
In the film Viva Zapata! the mountains serve as a sanctuary for General
Zapata, a place to hide out and plan strategies. Steinbeck was a passionate
scholar of the Mexican Revolution and wanted to make Viva Zapata! as ac-
curate a film as possible. Zapata's frequent use of the mountains as a hide-
out was historically accurate, as Steinbeck saw it. Therefore, it offers little
insight into Steinbeck's fiction other than to suggest that an early familiar-
ity with Zapata's story might have had some influence on his tendency to
link Mexican characters with the mountains. In the final version of the
screenplay, however, Steinbeck did resort to fiction in creating the charac-
ter Fernando, who, as Robert E. Morsberger explains, "is a composite of all

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82 * Eric Skipper

those who have betrayed democratic revolutions and replaced them with
oppression."10 True to the pattern Steinbeck has established, Zapata meets
Fernando in the mountains - not in town, nor in the countryside or near a
battle site, but in the "precipitous and savage mountains."11 Dressed in city
clothes and drenched in sweat, the betrayer Fernando, who will ultimately
plot Zapata's death, climbs up a steep mountain path carrying his coat, a
briefcase, and a typewriter, which he refers to, perhaps in a moment of fore-
shadowing, as "the sword of the mind."12 It seems that Steinbeck has gone
to some trouble having Fernando meet Zapata in the mountains. A more
realistic union could have been effected at a lower altitude; the film offers
ample opportunity for this. Nevertheless, Fernando climbs, briefcase and
typewriter in tow, until he pinpoints Zapata's hideout in the mountains.
Another item of note: in the previous scene, Zapata has just escaped
from a band of rurales. It is during the period of refuge that follows that
Zapata meets his betrayer Fernando in the mountains. The fact that the
pattern of mountain flight leading to death (in this case, an agent of death)
persists even in a historical context all but confirms that the pattern is
more than coincidental. Likewise, it is hard to argue that Steinbeck did not
perceive some finite connection between Mexicans and the mountains.
Across the canon of Steinbeck's work, his «on-Mexican characters die in or
flee to a variety of topographies and settings. Excepting the case of Joseph
Wayne, the mountains are conspicuously absent as a place of death for
Steinbeck's non-Mexican characters. A closer look at Steinbeck's percep-
tions of mountains and Mexicans (Mexican-Indians, in particular) pro-
vides some insight.
Throughout the canon of Steinbeck's work, people share a strong bond
with the earth, from valley farmers, to migrant workers, to the specimen-
collecting Doc Burton of Cannery Row (1945) and Sweet Thursday
(1954). Steinbeck was very open to the Greek view of nature, in which
man and nature exist in harmony. His readings of Carl Jung and Jessie L.
Weston, among others, bolstered this viewpoint. According to Steinbeck,
Mexican-Indians demonstrated more than a mere bond. He describes

their relationship with nature in The Log from the Sea of Cortez "They
[the Indians] seem to live on remembered things, to be so related to the
seashore and rocky hills and the loneliness that they are these things. To
ask about the country is like asking about themselves."13 Steinbeck attrib-

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 Death in the Hills * 83

utes the same relationship to Juanito, as Thomas warns Joseph: "You'll

never catch him [Juanito] in those hills. He knows the roots of every blade
of grass and every hole even a snake might hide in. . . . These Indians are
strange people."14 Juanito, like the Mexicans who occupy more prominent
roles in Steinbeck's fiction, is at least half Indian: his mother was a squaw;
Juanito has "dark, Indian skin."15 The Indians in To a God Unknown
demonstrate an almost mystical unity with nature with their songs, sym-
bols, and superstitions.
Considering Steinbeck's admiration for the nature-bonding Indians, it is
no surprise that he should imbue his Mexican-Indian characters with heroic
traits. Indeed, the purity of Indian blood seems to be the real litmus test for
Steinbeck. His Mexican characters with all or mostly Indian blood have the
most heroic traits. One only has to compare the stoic heroism of Pepé, Kino,
and Juanito to the idleness and foolery of the paisano-types found in Tortilla
Flat or Sweet Thursday. Once the Indian blood is diluted, some of the dig-
nity is compromised for comic traits. With the exception of Gitano, Stein-
beck's paisanos - defined by Benson as "made up of Spanish and Indian
blood, but many of them were also part Italian or part Portuguese" - are
often caricatures who are given to silly deeds like stealing wine and growing
marijuana in the flower pots of the public plaza.16
One of Steinbeck's real-life heroes was the revolutionary Emiliano Zapata,
whose primary objective was to return government-seized land to the Indian
farmers. Pepé, Gitano, and Kino display heroic traits in a natural, though
more inwardly oriented, context. Steinbeck and Campbell share similar con-
cepts of heroism on a metaphysical level. Campbell states in The Hero with a
Thousand Faces that "the effect of the successful adventure of the hero is the
unlocking and release again of the flow of life into the body of the world" and
that "the hero as the incarnation of God is himself the navel of the world."17
At the point of death, Pepé and Gitano transcend the bounds of their former
existences, while at the same time returning to the folds of the earth to be-
come one again with nature. Kino gains a "magical protection" following his
naturalistic bout with the mountains.18 These death experiences mirror
Mircea Eliade's view of initiatory rituals, in which one must "die to this first
(natural) life and be reborn to a higher life, which is at once religious and cul-
tural

death and resurrection or of second birth."19

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84 * Eric Skipper

In discussions of geographical elevation, religious implications in-

evitably arise. According to Eliade, the mountains and the heavens have a
natural connection: "Simple contemplation of the celestial vault already
provokes a religious experience. The sky shows itself to be infinite, tran-
scendent. . . . Most high spontaneously becomes an attribute of divinity.
The higher regions inaccessible to man . . . acquire the momentousness of
the transcendent, of absolute reality, of eternity."20 Steinbeck was not im-
mune to this perception of the mountains. Quite simply, he was in awe of
them. A marine biologist at heart, he was more comfortable with the sea
and its creatures than the mountains. In East of Eden (1952), he relates his
childhood perception of the Santa Lucia Mountains:

The Santa Lucias stood up against the sky to the west and kept the valley
from the open sea, and they were dark and brooding - unfriendly and dan-
gerous. I always found in myself a dread of west and a love of east. Where I
ever got such an idea I cannot say, unless it could be that the morning came
over the peaks of the Gabilans and the night drifted back from the ridges of
the Santa Lucias. It maybe that the birth and death of the day had some part
in my feeling about the two ranges of mountains.21

The Santa Lucia Mountains, or mountains modeled after them, provide

the setting in each of the five works where death, or a representation of
death, is encountered in the mountains. These "death" mountains are de-
scribed similarly in "The Great Mountains": "The mountains [were] dear
and terrible to him. . . . When the sun had gone over the edge in the
evening and the mountains were a purple-like despair, then Jody was
afraid of them."22 Turning from the "jolly" Gabilans to look back at the
Great Ones, Jody "shivered a little at the contrast."23
Besides enlisting the mountains as a natural destination for the tran-
scendent, heroic Mexican-Indian, Steinbeck may have perceived another,
more practical connection. Steinbeck's Mexican characters, like the moun-
tains, exist on the periphery of civilization. Pepé's family lives "about fif-
teen miles below Monterey, on the wild coast . . . [on] a few sloping acres
above a cliff."24 Gitano returns to the outlying foothills where he was born.
Kino's village of brush houses sits along the coast outside the "city of stone
and plaster . . . the city of harsh outer walls."25 Likewise, the Santa Lucia
Mountains, which separate the valley from the sea, take on an added di-

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 Death in the Hills * 85

mension of remoteness in fiction. They sit "against the sky to the west . . .
dark and brooding"; they are "so impersonal and aloof that their very im-
perturbability was a threat."26
In pitting Man against Nature, Steinbeck, like a boxing promoter, had
the opportunity to exhibit his two best opponents - the heroic Mexican-
Indian and the terrible Santa Lucia Mountains. Man confronts the moun-
tains alone and void of the possessions that might aid in his survival. In a
naturalistic vein, the distinction between nature and man blurs as the
mountains take on characteristics of a living being. They have a "sharp
backbone" and "jagged rotten teeth."27 They are "naked"; they have "bare
stone teeth" and a "frowning peak."28 In "The Great Mountains," the
mountains take on personality traits: they are "savage . . . wonderful ... se-
cret and mysterious," "dear . . . and terrible."29 In To a God Unknown , the
comparison is reversed. A dead cow assumes the characteristics of the
mountains: "Its hip was a mountain peak, and its ribs were like the long
water-scars on the hillsides."30

Once the flight into the mountains is begun, events and details are re-
lated in increasingly naturalistic terms. In the cases of Pepé, Kino, and
Juanito, flight is prompted by bloodshed. Kino flees instinctively "for the
high place, as nearly all animals do when they are pursued."31 Both he and
Pepé are closely identified with animals. As Pepé approaches inevitable
death, he becomes more animal-like. He moves "with the effort of a hurt
beast."32 He tries to speak, but only a "thick hissing" escapes him; in pain,
he "whined like a dog."33 As Kino flees toward the mountains, an "animal
thing"moves in him and an "animal light" comes into his eyes.34 In the
mountains he moves "like a slow lizard"; the music in his head sounds like
"snake rattles"and later like "the snarl of a female puma."35 The mountains
reduce not only Kino to an animal state, but his family and his pursuers,
too. Juanita peers "like an owl"; Coyotito, true to his name, whines like a
coyote.36 The trackers "scuttled over the ground like animals [and] whined
a little, like excited dogs on a warming trail."37 From a distance, they look
like scurrying ants, and they sleep "curled up like dogs."38 Similarly, Gitano
rides off into the mountains on horseback and at last glimpse resembles an
insect: "a black speck crawling up the farthest ridge."39 Pepé, Kino, Gitano,
and Juanito lose many of the possessions that link them to civilization as
they undergo the process of dehumanization. Pepé loses his coat, hat,

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86 * Eric Skipper

knife, horse, and rifle; Kino loses his house and boat; Gitano leaves his bag
of belongings in the bunkhouse and rides the horse with "no saddle, only
a piece of rope for a bridle."40 Juanito leaves his bloodstained knife at the
scene of Benjy's murder.
It is possible that Steinbeck incorporated certain aspects of Aztec sacri-
fice rituals in his "mountain death" episodes. As related in Frazer's The
Golden Bough, the man to be sacrificed would dispense with his material
possessions, bidding farewell to his wives at the "Mountain of Parting" and
then breaking his own flutes as he ascended the temple where he would be
sacrificed.41 Moreover, the designated man was regarded as a god - "he
passed for our Lord God; the people acknowledged him as the Lord" - a
detail that recalls the perceived correlation between heroes and gods that
Steinbeck and Campbell shared.42 Eliade's definition of temples should
also be considered: "Temples are replicas of the cosmic mountain and
hence constitute the pre-eminent 'link' between heaven and earth."43 Each
of Steinbeck's mountain-bound Mexicans ascends his own symbolic tem-
ple, toward godliness, enlightenment, death, or a combination of all three.
Indeed, the end physical result of the "mountain experience" is death. Pepé
and Gitano perish in the mountains. Kino loses his son. Zapata meets the
man who will plot his death. Juanito is spared an encounter with death. He
seeks it at the hands of Joseph, but when his wish is unfulfilled, he goes off in
exile. At first glance, it may seem that the rugged mountains triumph in the
Man versus Nature struggle. It is man who truly prevails, however, through a
transcendence of his former state. Besides representing a "fitting" destination
for the remote, heroic Mexican-Indian, the mountains serve as a platform for
transcendence into a new realm of existence.
It is through death that Pepé finally achieves manhood. After Coyotito
is killed, Kino is "removed from human experience, [has] gone through
the pain and come out on the other side," and gains an "almost magical
protection."44 Gitano confronts the mystery of the mountains, and
achieves the peaceful death he has sought from the beginning of the story.
Zapata's legacy will continue to live, and his countrymen will reap the ben-
efits of his heroic deeds long after his death. Steinbeck explains, "The peo-
ple of Morelos do not believe that Zapata is dead."45 Perhaps it is no sur-
prise that they should believe that he is living " back in the hills and will one
day come to them again" [my italics].46

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 Death in the Hills * 87

Steinbeck's repeated use of the mountains as a place of refuge and dying

for his Mexican characters may be attributed to several factors. Besides the
more obvious similarities - the mystery, remoteness, and darkness -
Steinbeck's perspectives as biologist and anthropologist gave him a uniquely
organic view of man's relationship with nature, a view that gave impetus to
mystical and religious interpretations. Steinbeck's Mexican-Indians do not
merely share a bond with nature but are one with it; fittingly, the mountains
provide an appropriate venue for death scenarios. The Mexican-Indian, like
the Aztecs centuries before him, ascends the "temple" until his mystical
union with nature is complete. In the rugged mountains he undergoes an
initiation of sorts as he is stripped of all possessions that might help him in
his quest for survival, and the distinction between Man and Nature becomes
blurred as naturalistic elements take over. This blurring of perception is part
of the realm of "wholeness" into which the Mexican-Indian has entered. In
his transcendence of his former state, he has returned, simply, to the bosom
of the earth from whence he came.

NOTES

1. Jackson J. Benson, The True Adventures of John Steinbecky Writer (New

York: Viking, 1990), 278.
2. Louis Owens, John Steinbeck's Re-vision of America (Athens: University of
Georgia Press, 1985), 35.
3. Owens, Steinbeck's Re-vision, 11.
4. John Steinbeck, The Pastures of Heaven (New York: Penguin, 1995), 3.
5. Steinbeck, Pastures, 3.
6. Steinbeck, Pastures , 3.
7. Owens, Steinbeck's Re-vision , 35.
8. Owens, Steinbeck's Re-vision , 37.
9. John Steinbeck, The Pastures of Heaven (New York: Penguin, 1995), 186.
10. John Steinbeck, Zapata (New York: Penguin, 1993), 12.
11. Steinbeck, Zapata, 234.
12. Steinbeck, Zapata, 324.
13. John Steinbeck, The Log from the Sea of Cortez (New York: Penguin, 1995), 63.
14. John Steinbeck, To a God Unknown (New York: Penguin, 1995), 70.
15. Steinbeck, God Unknown, 11.

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88 * Eric Skipper

16. Benson, True Adventures, 277.

17. Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1973), 40-41.
18. John Steinbeck, The Pearl (New York: Penguin, 1994), 93.
19. Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane : The Nature of Religion (New
York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1959), 187.
20. Eliad, Sacred, 118.
21. John Steinbeck, East of Eden (New York: Penguin, 1992), 3.
22. John Steinbeck, The Long Valley (New York: Penguin, 1995), 177.
23. Steinbeck, Long Valley , 178.
24. Steinbeck, Long Valley , 28.
25. Steinbeck, Pearl , 13.
26. Steinbeck, East of Eden, 3; Steinbeck, Long Valley , 177.
11. btembeck, Long Valley , 4b.
28. Steinbeck, Pearl , 84.
29. Steinbeck, Long Valley, 177 .
30. Steinbeck, God Unknown , 181.
31. Steinbeck, Pearl, 81.
32. Steinbeck, Long Valley, 47.
33. Steinbeck, Long Valley, 47.
34. Steinbeck, Pearl, 74, 78.
35. Steinbeck, Pearl, 89, 74, 90.
36. Steinbeck, Pearl, 89.
37. Steinbeck, Pearl, 79.
38. Steinbeck, Pearl, 88.
39. Steinbeck, Long Valley, 189.
40. Steinbeck, Long Valley, 188.
41. James George Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion,
part VI, "The Scapegoat" (London: Macmillan, 1955), 279.
42. Frazer, Golden Bough, 278.
43. Eliade, Sacred, 39.
44. Steinbeck, Pearl, 93.
45. Steinbeck, Zapata, 45.
46. Steinbeck, Zapata, 45.

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