Asturias Post One

I’ve decided that from now on I will attempt to stick to the original intention of the blog assignment by trying to write for around 30 minutes in more of stream of conscious style...

Asturias descriptive language is most certainly detailed. I can appreciate this in places, but in others it drives me absolutely crazy. I enjoy how Asturias skillfully weaves violent imagery into placid scenes very early on, setting a dark ominous tone. “The Blood-red juice of dawn was staining the edges of the funnel of mountains encircling the town...” (18).

Though I must have set the book down in boredom a dozen times while trying to get through the first fifty pages or so, but this could be because of the my own tastes in literature. A lot of Asturias' descriptive language, although often times quite poetic, seems to go a bit overboard. As a reader I not sure why need to know for example, all the items that were on a darkened table, or exactly what the shelves looked like. I can imagine these things myself, and get quickly bored when given an overload of infinitesimal details, sometimes losing focus of the main story. There’s something about Asturias style that reminds me (as crazy as it may sound) of John Steinbeck (for whom I have a profound emotional allergy). This however is just my personal “bias” (not sure if I’m allowed to use this “banned” word in my blog).

 I will admit, as stereotypical male as it may sound, that as soon as some “action” picked up a bit with the bribing of officials, plotting and kidnapping, the book ceased to me to be as dreadfully boring. When Angel Face gets past an officer by slipping him a 100 peso note I was reminded about traveling around South America two summers ago. Carrying $40 USD on your person somewhere other than in your wallet is always a good idea. I have had personal experience bribing South American officials, and my brother has similar stories from Guatemala. Police corruption is clearly something with a long tradition in Latin America. It makes me think back to Sarmiento a bit. Wondering whether these time transcending traits originated from a just an unlucky series of events or whether there is something deeper; why exactly is Latin America predisposed to corruption and despotism? Is this even a fair statement? Sarmiento pointed to the possibility that there was something about the vastness of the landscape in Argentina helping create the animalist bad guacho, but in a different local such as Guatemala what creates similar traits? Are there universal qualities that create despotic characters throughout Latin America? We may be better equipped to answer this question as we continue through this book, and the others in the course.

 

Post dos...

Finally finished the last half of Facundo. I still wish my Spanish was good enough to read the original text as undoubtedly a lot is lost in the translation, no matter how good of one it is. I wonder if the language was as stiff in the original Spanish?

 I can’t say that I was too sorry when the old tyrant Facundo was killed, as calling him a pretty brutal character would be a serious understatement. Brutality and violence are definitely recurring themes in the book. Facundo seems driven by power, fear, and violence for their own sakes, perhaps with a little money thrown in for good measure. In modern terms we might call him a sociopath; someone with an inability to feel normal human emotions such as pity, guilt, and remorse; we tend to think of these people as rarities, exceptions to the rule, but Sarmiento seems to advocate an extreme determinist stance regarding Facundo’s brutality, claiming that there is something inherent within the landscape of Argentina itself that breeds these animalistic individuals by the handful.

I am confounded by on the one hand Sarmiento’s optimism touting that he will bring the light of freedom over the Andes, and on the other, his view that the very landscape makes Argentina ripe for exploitation by these despots. How can Sarmiento succeed in bringing freedom if the very nature of Argentina stands in his way?

On another note I found the constant barrage of briefly mentioned characters, battles, etc. to be a little distracting. I find that disjointedness of the book distracts one from focusing on Sarmiento’s true intentions or goals. I am still not entirely sure what these are exactly. He does however do a very good job of showing the pervasiveness of the fear instilled masterfully by Facundo. In one vivid example, an officer after winning a fight for his life returns his lance “respectfully” to Facundo, only to later be killed anyway. The extent of Facundo’s power shown here is truly unbelievable.

The way other governments had to be involved with Funcundo’s “removal” parallels a more contemporary Latin America experience seems quite uncanny, or perhaps it is just proving Sarmiento’s original hypothesis regarding the nature of Argentina itself.

Post one...

            Seeing as the “blog” format here allows for a certain level of honesty I will approach this project with this in mind. I will admit to being severely bored with the beginning of the book, finding myself at times skimming ahead, or even throwing the it down in frustration; it did however, after a while, begin to grow on me, at least once I was able to get into the swing of its stiff prose (albeit most likely caused by the translation from what is likely more poetic and fluid sounding Spanish). From the very beginning I see the author clearly drawing a line between us and them, civilization and barbarism, the cultured vs. the animalistic savage. Sarmiento describes the savages as descending from the night like hyenas on defenseless populations, denoting, in his mind, their less than human status. As apposed to the refinement and culture of the “Spanish race,” Sarmiento describes the peoples of the Americas as being inherently lazy with incapacity for industry, unless put into their place by Europeans.

In this world brute force rules, individuals most survive on their own cleverness and abilities to avoid danger. This near lawless that Sarmiento describes seems almost a Hobbesian “state of nature,” where one can do as they please but live their life in constant state of fear. In this sense the situation is ripe for someone to assert complete control with the promise of some protection from harm.

Sarmiento displays a kind of love-hate relationship with the gauchos, criticizing and passing judgment on them while at the same time romanticizing. Sarmiento seems to look down on the guacho for his lack of culture, intelligence, and his implanting of barbarism into society, while at the same time expressing a kind of admiration for what the guacho is able to accomplish. The guacho’s animal like survival, without the need intelligence and refinement seems both criticism and complement. Sarmiento calls the traditions of the guacho as crude, while romanticizing them with his language, even deifying the guacho himself.

            Sarmiento describes the pre-revolution Argentina as a world split between two incompatible societies: the civilized and the barbarous. Post revolution these worlds are combined as to break down any semblance of “civilization,” descending the country into chaos. It is in this chaotic changing environment that Sarmiento places his protagonist – an individual who’s personality is born of this tenuous clash of “civilizations.”

 

 

            

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