Professional Documents
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Llosa
Author(s): Lydia D. Hazera
Source: Latin American Literary Review, Vol. 13, No. 26 (Jul. - Dec., 1985), pp. 19-34
Published by: Latin American Literary Review
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LYDIA D. HAZERA
Because most
comtemporary writers consider the novel a form of
dialogue between
author and reader, they are greatly preoccupied with the
relationships between author and reader and text and reader. Traditionally,
Spanish American writers have looked upon the novel as a medium for
communicating their social concerns. In the early nineteenth century, Jos?
Joaqu?n Fern?ndez de Lizardi, in El Periquillo Sarniento^ expounded the
virtues of education, thrift, and hard work while satirizing Mexican colonial
society. Later, in 1852, Jos? M?rmol depicted the tyranny of dictator Juan
Manuel de Rosas and protested vehemently against it in the novel Amalia.
Mexico's best-known nineteenth century novelist, Ignacio Manuel Altami
rano, ascribed to the novel the value of being an appropriate vehicle for
elevating the masses. This trend of social criticism continued into the twen
tieth century.
Since writers representative of this trend were primarily motivated by
social concerns, they were mainly interested in using the novel as a means
for conveying those concerns and not for expressing their ideas as creators.
Ra?l Castagnino observes that until the 1930s novelists endeavored to have
their works reach the reader as finished products divested of the framework
and literary theories that oriented the author during his creative vigil.l They
sought to shape the dialogue with the reader so as to keep him within the
author's mental constructs, often addressing him directly in authorial com
mentary or indirectly through a narrator within the fiction. In contrast,
present-day writers seek to trigger the reader's active participation, expect
ing him to flesh out the signs with meaning and construct his own fiction
from the author's
fragmentary narrative.
Among the writers to be treated in this essay ?Julio Cort?zar, Guiller
mo Cabrera Infante, and Mario Vargas Llosa?Cort?zar is noteworthy for
giving primary importance to the role of the reader. In his masterpiece,
Hopscotch, Cort?zar 's alter ego Morelli writes:
19
Cort?zar's interest in the role of the reader stems from his discontent with
the traditional novel, which he criticizes for failing to create a reader.
Among the traditional novel's elements which Cort?zar-Morelli would
remove are the division between content and form, preordained character
psychology, and linear structure.
The main issue, however, is the apprehension of reality, for according
to Cort?zar reality must be possessed. This view forms an important part of
his poetics. Dissatisfied with the traditional concepts and modes of
representing reality, he demands, above all, a subversion of attitudes and
concepts limited by the rational, logical Cartesian process. Particularly
disturbing to him is the dualistic perception of reality: the real-versus-unreal
dichotomy. Cort?zar proposes a reality that is ?fundamentally discon
tinuous, porous and dynamic.?3 To him, the unreal is part of the real to be
glimpsed in the interstices of the real.
Viewing language as a means for apprehending reality, he rebels
against ?literary language,? ornamental expression, hackneyed phrases,
and clich?s. Instead, he urges the search for a language that will possess
reality, not mediate it. To possess reality man must rehabilitate his im
aginative capacity, he must reawaken his analogical faculty, interred in the
unconscious by centuries of obeisance to the Cartesian process. According
to Cort?zar only the poets have not lost the analogical capacity:
Cort?zar believes that a text must incite the reader to participate, i.e., it
must be material in gestation: the experiential immediacy must be trans
mitted through words but using the least aesthetic words possible.6 It is only
through such a text in gestation, conveying experiential immediacy, that the
reader will be aroused to become a coparticipant and cosufferer of the
creator's experience at the same moment and in the same form. Cort?zar
wants the reader, in the process of reading, to go through a creative ex
perience similar to the one the author had while writing. When the text and
reader converge, not only does the text come into existence but a new text is
made possible. Although the new text is controlled by the limits of the
author's text, it is new because it has been enhanced by elements provided
by the reader's imagination.
InHopscotch Cort?zar-Morelli refers to the antinovel as the form most
appropriate for encouraging reader participation, citing its rejection of
description, psychological motivation or explanation, plot, individual
characterization, and linear development. He further observes that the anti
novel is fragmentary, like a series of photographs capturing moments in
time. The gaps between pictures are to be filled in by the reader with his own
literary experience, presumptions, hypotheses, and inventions. In focusing
on the gap as an element in narrative structure for encouraging reader par
ticipation, Cort?zar has percipiently pointed to an element that is central in
any text-reader relationship. According to Iser, the gap is pivotal to the
whole text-reader relationship. Iser explains:
In Hopscotch the concealment spurring the reader into action takes two
forms: gaps in meaning and blanks interspersed between sections. The
reader, according to Morelli, will have to establish his own links, his own
causal articulation. The author will provide raw things but no ?explanation
or psychologies.? As observed previously, Morelli maintains that reality is
like a series of still photographs of fixed instants. The bridges between in
stants will be invented by the reader:
complete the figure. But sometimes the missing lines were the
most important ones, the only ones that really counted.8
plains that the reader must subordinate his beliefs and practices to those of
the author.13 On the other hand, the author ?creates, in short, an image of
himself and another image of his reader; he makes his reader, as he makes
his second self, and the most successful reading is one in which the created
selves, author and reader, can find complete agreement.?14 Booth's views
on the identification of the implied author with the implied reader are
shared to some extent by other critics. For instance, Iser, citing the above
quotation, agrees that Booth's suggestion of the two selves is tenable ?for
those are the roles offered by the text and the real reader's own disposi
tion . . .?15 Iser further observes that the reader's role prescribed by the text
will be stronger. However, the reader's disposition will never totally disap
pear. The role of the reader is ?definable in terms of textual structure and
structured arts.?16 The text guides the reader to assemble the meaning. ?But
since this meaning is neither a given external reality nor a copy of an in
tended reader's own world, it is something that has to be ideated by the
mind of the reader.?17 Booth's and Iser's observations seem to place on the
author and text the onus of guiding the reader. Authors resort to a diversity
of strategies to orient the reader in the realization of his role. It must be
underlined that realization is a continuous interactive process during the
reading of a text.
In addition to negation and the use of blanks as strategies to stimulate
the reader in the realization of the role of reader-accomplice, Cort?zar pro
vides a profile of the reader-accomplice by incorporating into the novel a
group of fictional readers who serve as role models. The Serpent Club
members as readers of Morelli's notes reflect characteristics which Morelli
perceives as requirements for the reader-accomplice. In keeping with
Morelli's ideas that a novel must be free of ?psychologies,? the members
are not endowed with individuality: each member is defined by his activity.
For instance, Etienne is a painter; Ronald, a jazz musician; Ossip Gregoro
vius, like Horacio, an intellectual. The one member who seems out of place
in the group is Perico because he insists on using logic to explain in
congruous situations. He obviously is included to serve as counterpoint to
the other members, who approach daily events with wonder and do not de
mand a sensible explanation for the unexpected. It isHoracio Oliveira, the
intellectual-protagonist, who provides the best model, for he is the most
responsive to Morelli's ideas and the one who embarks on the ontological
quest which runs parallel to the development of the reader-accomplice.
Cort?zar devotes at least four sections to the group's reading of
Morelli's notes. When they approach Morelli's sanctum they are filled with
awe and wonder:
Etienne ran his fingers slowly over the molding of the door.
They waited in silence for him to find the light switch. The
apartment was small and dusty, the soft and domesticated lights
enveloped it in a golden air in which the Club breathed with
relief for the first time and went about looking over the rest of
the place, exchanging impressions in low voices . . .?18
They discover folders and files and read aloud excerpts from his notes.
Finally they sit around a table. Lamps are turned down except for the one il
luminating the green velvet notebook, Morelli's latest workbook. Gathered
around the table, concentrating on the green book, each with a glass of
cognac in hand, they seem involved in a spiritual s?ance. In this warm
secluded ambience, the readers experience a sense of otherness with one
another and with the author whose work has been providing them with new
openings for perceiving reality. This scene suggests that Cort?zar sees the
reading process as an activity full of expectation and promise which is
capable of involving the reader completely. Descriptions of the group
reading Morelli's notes convey to the actual reader the attitudes that the
author seeks to provoke in him: for instance, a willingness to engage emo
tionally and intellectually in the work unfolding before him. Cort?zar im
plies through his choice of fictional readers that readers with creative in
clinations are best suited to respond positively to Morelli's ideas on
estrangement, reality, and ontology. The author also underlines recep
tiveness and tolerance to the ideas and to eccentric behavior as qualities in
the implied reader; the reader must be ready to break old mental habits and
to shake off the fetters of reason and logic. As he puts together the collec
tion of notes, meditations and excerpts from books and periodicals, he is
not only constructing his own fiction but, what ismore important, realizing
his role of implied reader.
A consideration of Cort?zar's strategies for inciting reader participa
tion cannot neglect the role of language. According to Cort?zar, the writer
must:
...
set language on fire, put an end to its coagulated forms and
even go beyond it, place in doubt the possibility that language is
still in touch with what it pretends to name. Not words as such,
any more, because that's less important, but rather the total
structure of language, of discourse.19
Gags, jokes, puns, farce, jargon, invented forms like ?gliglish? are an in
tegral part of language inHopscotch. Games and the ludicrous are offered
as incentives or openings for reader participation. To Davi Arrigucci, verbal
play is an important part of what he denominates Cort?zar's poetics of
destruction.21
Cort?zar's criterion that reality should be possessed and not mediated
is successfully applied by Guillermo Cabrera Infante in his novel Three
Trapped Tigers. In his work Cabrera Infante has managed to capture the
essence of the nightclub world of pre-Castro Havana through language.
Emir Rodriguez Monegal observes that Three Trapped Tigers, like
Hopscotch ybelongs to the rhetorical category roman comique:
parody of different verbal forms and at varying levels may very well be the
most salient tool for inciting reader participation. The work begins with a
tone and attitude that prevail throughout the book the parodies are essen
tially an attempt to demythify literature, divest it of exclusivity and in
tegrate it into the linguistic system of Cuba. It is not surprising that C?dac,
commenting on Bustr?fedon's taped parodies, says that he is now returning
them to their rightful owner, folklore.32
The incorporation of Bustr?fedon's tapes into C?dac's narrative and
into Cue's and Silvestre's dialogues and the comments of all three pro
tagonists about what Bustr?fedon says, make them listeners and writers as
well as protagonists. C?dac, Cue and Silvestre, by mirroring Bustr?fedon in
their speech, also reflect and comment on his oral text, thereby inviting the
reader to formulate his own views on the text. In so doing, the reader begins
the creation of his own metafiction.
Bustr?fedon is an appropriate mask for the author who, like him,
negates written reality. Therefore, it follows that the section entitled ?Some
Revelations? consists of blank pages: for Bustr?fedon, ?alter ego of the
author, never wrote a page: he only spoke them, in the same way that the
novel attempts to speak. . .?33
When Cabrera Infante uses the blank page to signify ?revelation,? he is
using graphics to parody and attributing an aesthetic function to the page.
The page and its graphic form an inseparable part of the overall design.
Because of this view, Cabrera Infante incorporates graphic design into his
novel to help the reader visualize form and meaning. In addition to visual
images (graphic and verbal), he uses auditory images (verbal) to orient and
stimulate reader participation. Indeed, the mode of speaking of each of the
four protagonists (Erib?, Cu?, C?dac, and Silvestre) is characterized by a
predominance of either visual or auditory images. Throughout his work,
Cabrera Infante reveals a penchant for stimulating the reader through sense
perceptions.
Whereas narrative structure in Three Trapped Tigers and in Cort?zar's
Hopscotch seems difficult to reconstruct, the composition of Mario Vargas
Llosa's novels gradually reveals a coherent, if fragmented and nonlinear,
narrative. The alert reader soon becomes aware of the patterns and begins
to reconstruct, guided essentially by the mode of speech of the narrator or
character, by perceptual and conceptual point of view, and by the time
frame in which the action takes place. Two critics who have examined
reader participation in Vargas Llosa's works are John J. Hassett and Rilda
L. Baker. Hassett,34 in a discussion of techniques in The Green House,35 in
cludes cinematic techniques, interior monologue, omissions of punctuation,
rapid temporal and spatial dislocation, and ambiguity. Baker, analyzing
reader performance in The Time of the Hero*6 examines the ?markers?
that orient the reader, such as framing,37 the title, contrapuntal structure,
temporal fragmentation, detective-story frame, ambiguity, and paradox.38
The techniques and elements considered by Hassett and Baker testify to
She further explains that since existentialism places the ?onus of freedom
on the reader and not necessarily on the characters, the author must offer as
little mediation as possible in the way of value-loaded descriptions and com
ments.?42 Given that the reader is endowed with the freedom to reinvent a
character's project, he will involve himself closely with the character and his
circumstances. Because Vargas Llosa's characters are installed in situations
which enhance their negativity, the reader may feel defeated by the whole
perspective to the reader and for involving him in the creation of a new
reality. The mystery surrounding the characters' origins and fates and the
ambiguous causes of their development will incite reader participation, for
the reader must complete the fiction and explain the causes. Gregory
Rabassa calls attention to the linking of the primitive jungle setting and the
urban brothel in the symbol The Green House (title of the book) as an effec
tive means of surrounding the novelesque events with the suspense and
mystery necessaryfor reader participation: ?The reader is given his oppor
tunity here, then, to create feelings, to impute them or to ignore them.?48
The Spanish American authors' continuing interest in reader participa
tion in the creative process is evidenced by such essays as Carlos Fuentes'
Don Quixote or the Critique of Reading.*9 Fuentes explains that Don Qui
xote encompasses the criticism of reading principally because the pro
tagonist owes his existence to being both a reader and the subject of
readings. Initially, don Quixote comes into being as the reader of novels of
chivalry. Later his epic adventures become the subject of a book read by
characters in the book bearing his name. Subsequently, don Quixote
himself finds out that he has been the subject of an apocryphal novel by one
Avellaneda. As the subject of readings he has undergone as many transfor
mations as readings, beginning with Avellaneda's apocryphal version. Thus
Fuentes observes:
NOTES
1975), p. 446.
3. Sara Castro Klaren, ?Ontological Fabulation: Toward Cort?zar's Theory of Literature,?
in Final Island, ed. Jaime Alazraki and Ivar Ivask (Norman, Oklahoma: University of
4. Julio Cort?zar, ?Para una po?tica,? La torre, No. 7 (julio-septiembre 1954), p. 124. My
translation of: ?Se dice que el poeta es un ?primitivo? en cuanto est? fuera de todo sistema
conceptual petrificante, porque prefiere sentir a juzgar, porque entra en el mundo de las cosas
5. Wolfgang Iser, The Implied Reader (Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins Univer
Susan R. Suleiman and Inge Crosman (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), p. 111.
11. Evelyn Picon Gar field, ?Es Julio Cort?zar un surrealista! (Madrid: Editorial Gredos,
13. Wayne C. Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction (Chicago and London: The University of
20. Evelyn Picon Gar field, Julio Cort?zar (New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co.,
1975), p. 109.
21. Davi Arrigucci, Jr., O escorpiao encalacrado (Sao Paulo, Brasil: Editora Perspectiva,
S.A., 1973), p. 59.
22. Emir Rodriguez Monegal, ?Structure and Meanings of Three Trapped Tigers, ? Latin
Tigres,? Latin American Literary Review, Vol. VIII, No. 16 (Spring-Summer, 1980), p. 97.
25. Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics, tr. R.W. Rotsel (n.p.: Ardis, 1973),
p. 159.
26. Josefina Ludmer, ?Tres tristes tigres. Ordenes literarios y jerarqu?as sociales,? Revista
29. Margaret A. Rose, Parody/Meta-Fiction (London: Croom Helm Ltd., 1979), p. 128.
30. Jos? Marti, ?Los zapaticos de rosa? in Obras completas (La Habana, Cuba: Editorial
35. Mario Vargas Llosa, The Green House, tr. Gregory Rabassa (New York: Harper & Row,
1968).
36. Mario Vargas Llosa, The Time of the Hero, tr. Lysander Kemp (London: Jonathan
Cape, 1967).
37. Rilda L. Baker, ?The Reader's Performance in The Time of the Hero,? Texas Studies in
Literature and Language, Vol. XIX, No. 4 (Winter 1977), pp. 397-398.
38. Baker, pp. 398-406.
39. Mario Vargas Llosa, ?Introduction,? The Latin American Novel Today and World
Literature in Review, Books Abroad, Vol. 44, No. 1 (Winter 1970), p. 8.
40. Hassett, p. 32.
41. Jean Franco, ?Conversations and Confessions: Self and Character in The Fall and Con
versation in The Cathedral,? Texas Studies in Literature and Language, Vol. XIX, No. 4
46. Mario Vargas Llosa, La historia secreta de una novela (Barcelona: Tusquets Editor,
1971), p. 8. My translation of: ?He pensado que pod?a ser interesante para ustedes, lectores de
novelas, asistir a uno de esos strip-teases de los que resulta una ficci?n.?
47. Luys A. Diez, ?The Sources of The Green House: The Mythical Background of a
Fabulous Novel,? Texas Studies in Literature and Language, Vol. XIX, No. 4 (Winter 1977),
p. 442.
48. Gregory Rabassa, ?O Tempora, O Mores: Time, Tense and Tension in Mario Vargas
Llosa,? World Literature Today, Vol. 52, No. 1 (Winter 1978), p. 32.
49. Carlos Fuentes, Don Quixote or the Critique of Reading (Austin, Texas: Printing Divi
ed. Jeanine Parisier Plottel and Hanna Charney, New York Literary Forum, Vol. II (New