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Political Alienation In The Novels Of Mariano Azuela

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Political Alienation In The Novels Of Mariano Azuela

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Xerox University Microfilms
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R E E M A N , Ronald Paul, 1934-
PO L IT IC A L A L IE N A T IO N IN T H E N O V E L S O F
M A R IA N O A Z U E L A .
University o£ Southern California, Ph.D., 1974
Language and Literature, modem
U niversity M icrofilm s, A XEROX C o m p a n y , A nn A rbor, M ichigan
© 1974
RONALD PAUL REDMAN
ALL RIGHTS RESERV ED
PO LITIC A L A L IE N A T IO N IN T H E N O V E L S
O F M A R IA N O A Z U E L A
by
Ronald Paul R edm an
A Dissertation Presented to the
F A C U L T Y O F T H E G R A D U A T E S C H O O L
U N IV E R S IT Y O F S O U T H E R N C A L IF O R N IA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
D O C T O R O F P H IL O S O P H Y
(Latin American Studies)
June 1974
UNIVERSITY O F SO U T H E R N CALIFO RNIA
TH E GRADUATE SC H O O L
UNIV ERSITY PARK
LO S A N G ELES. C A LIFO R N IA 9 0 0 0 7
This dissertation, written by
....................... .B .o .n aid .P a\ri..B .ec3 T n a n ..........................
under the direction of his..... Dissertation Com
mittee, and approved by all its members, has
been presented to and accepted by The Graduate
School, in partial fulfillment of requirements of
the degree of
D O C T O R O F P H I L O S O P H Y
Dean
Date.A
DISSERTATION COMMITTEE
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LIST O F IL L U S T R A T IO N S
Chapter
I . IN T R O D U C T IO N .........................................................................................
I I . A M O D E L F O R PO L IT IC A L A L IE N A T IO N .................................
A Definition of P olitical Alienation
The P olitical Process
The Amalgamated Culture
III. T H E H IST O R IC A L SETT IN G : T H E M E X IC A N
A M A L G A M ............................■ .....................................................................
The Western Watersheds
Naissance, Ignition, Revolt
IV. M E X IC A N N A R R A T IV E P R O S E B E F O R E A Z U E L A ......................
The Novel as a Middle-Class Genre
The Amalgamation of the Mexican Novel
V . A Z U E L A A N D T H E E M E R G E N C E O F T H E M E X IC A N
N O V E L ..........................................................................................................
The Formative Years
Porfirian Mexico in Azuela's Novels
Chapter Page
VI. A Z U E L A A N D T H E R EV O LU TIO N ................................................................162
The Failure of the Amalgamated
Intellectual
The Genesis of the Amalgamated
Bourgeoisie
The Triumph of the Amalgamated
Bourgeois ie
VII. A Z U E L A A N D P O S T R E V O L U T IO N A R Y M E X IC O .............................. 262
Experimental Novels
The N ew Leadership
The Urban Underdogs
VIII. CONCLUSION.......................................................................................................335
Prerevolutionary Mexico
The Revolution: 1910-1917
The Postrevolutionary Period
S E L E C T E D B IB L IO G R A P H Y ......................................................................................... 362
i i i
LIST O F IL L U S T R A T IO N S
Figure Page
1. A Model for P olitical A lienation....................................... 48
2. The Amalgamated Bourgeoisie .................................................. 215
i v
C H A P T E R I
IN T R O D U C T IO N
In the year 1910, the Mexican nation began to experi
ence what proved to be one of the firs t great social up
heavals of the modern world. During the next three decades,
Mexican society w as profoundly and permanently transformed:
new social groups assumed p o litical power and new social,
p o litical, and economic structures were forged. Scholars
have investigated this transformation, and as a result m uch
is known of the events of those years, their causes, and
their results.
While a great deal is known about the events and the
principal participants of the Mexican Revolution, m uch less
is known about what those events meant, in human and social
terms, to the anonymous masses w ho lived and died p a rtic i
pating in them. Revolutions, in addition to affecting the
institutions of a society, also affect the feelings, a t t i
tudes, and values of people. A definitive social history
1
of the Mexican Revolution, one that deals with its human
and social aspects, has not been written.
The greatest difficulty in writing such a social h is
tory lies in obtaining documentary data upon which to base
the study. Arduous even in the best of circumstances, this
task is especially d ifficu lt if the society being investi
gated has undergone such rapid, profound, and violent
changes.
The underlying intent of this investigation is to ex
plore the possibility of using the novel as a source for the
study of the social history of the Mexican Revolution. The
novelist w ho is a true creative genius is connected to his
society by channels of intuition and psychology. If he has
observed an event, he can perceive the impact of that event
on people. A nd if he writes a novel based on his observa
tion of that event, he has recorded its human, social as
pect .
In exploring the possibility of using novels as h is
torical sources, the advice of a well-known Latin American
literary c ritic is being followed. Emir Rodriguez Monegal
suggests that one should look to prose fiction in order to
understand the "new m an" of Latin America:
N ew novelists are coining forward to investigate and m ap,
with remarkable energy and invention, [Latin America's]
complex, rapidly changing features. But their aim is
not only to record. They are trying to grasp the hidden
meanings of this change, this revolution* and they are
concentrating on the new m an that this vast subcontinent
is helping to produce.^
The novelist tries to portray this new m an through his
literary characterizations. H e puts the reader in touch
with his created personages through their actions, words,
thoughts, and feelings. The novelist can focus on the
problems and attitudes of the individual. In this way, he
complements the social scien tist, w ho studies the social,
economic, and p olitical features of an event like the Mexi
can Revolution from the point of view of large groups.
Information on individual feelings and attitudes is the type
of data that can slip most easily through the net of the
established social sciences, and it is fe lt that data ex
tracted from novels can provide information that is other
wise unavailable to the scholar.
In order to use novels as sources for the study of
social history, three preliminary steps are evident: the
selection of appropriate novels, the selection of an
^"The N e w Novelists," Encounter, 25, No. 3 (Sept.
1965), 97.
appropriate social science problem, and the development of
an analytical framework by which the problem can be analyzed
systematically.
If the premise is accepted that the creative genius of
a Dostoyevsky can contribute to the understanding of m an
and society, then it must be accepted also that an a rtis t
can be wrong in his interpretations. Whereas the scientist
interprets reality, the a rtist creates i t . The novelist
w ho misunderstands his society, or w ho proselytizes for a
particular cause, can be "wrong" with respect to objective
reality to a degree that could not possibly be matched by a
scien tist. T o extract valid information, then, it is obvi
ous that the special pleader and the a rtist lacking in
creative genius should be avoided.
It is just as obvious that one should select the novel
ists w ho are the most talented and w ho have directed their
talents toward understanding their people and their times.
It is a d ifficu lt and controversial task to decide w ho and
what is a creative genius; but if anybody is able to deter
mine and to judge creative genius in literature, the lite r
ary c ritic would seem to have the best chance. The "appro
priate" novelist, then, is one whose works have been
acclaimed by leading critics over a period of time. The
appropriate novelist should also have roots in, and be con
nected spiritually and emotionally to, his society and his
culture. In addition, his novels should be of appropriate
subject matter and written on the basis of personal obser
vation .
Based on these criteria, the novelist whose works are
judged most appropriate for use in this investigation is
Mariano Azuela. Azuela has been widely acclaimed as a
creative genius by literary c ritic s; his novels have with
stood the test of time, indicating the validity of his
intuitive connections to his society and culture; he wrote
eighteen novels dealing with the time period and the subject
matter under investigation; and he w as a first-hand obser
ver of, often a participant in, the events he portrays.
Azuela's background and the nature of his works will be
discussed in more detail later.
In selecting a social science problem, an effort was
m ade to choose one that directly involves human feelings,
attitudes, and values. Other criteria were the importance
2
The bibliography contains a lis t of the critics con
sulted .
of the problem, past and present, to Mexican society; the
relationship of the problem to the subject matter of the
novels being used; and the connection between the problem
and the inherent nature of the novel as a literary genre.
Based on these criteria, political alienation w as
judged to be a social science problem that could be investi
gated through the novels of Mariano Azuela. Alienation can
be defined in a general w ay as an estrangement from the
world at large, from other individuals, and from self. In
other words, it involves the individual's feelings about
himself and his environment. B y preceding alienation with
the modifier "p o litical," the environment becomes the
p olitical process, and the feelings and thoughts of the
individual center on his view of himself within that proc
ess .
At this point, the specific purpose of this investiga
tion can be stated as an attempt to analyze the problem of
p o litical alienation in the revolutionary society of Mexico
as it appears in the novels of Mariano Azuela. The follow
ing brief history of alienation serves to illu strate its
importance as a problem and its frequent appearance as a
central theme in the novel.
Five hundred years ago, in Europe and in Mexico, m en
worshipped their gods, obeyed their secular masters, and
worked the earth with wooden plows. B y the twentieth cen
tury, while the m en of Mexico continued obeying spiritual
and secular hierarchies and plowing the earth with sticks,
large numbers of Europeans were living according to drama
tically changed concepts of themselves and of their world.
These changes in individual personality can be linked
to the important watersheds of European history. The Ren
aissance gave impetus to the idea that m an has an identity
as an individual. The industrial revolution affected the
individual by drastically altering the structure and the
values of Western society. The advent of the machine age
forced m an to adapt to massive new institutions. A nd the
developing mass society and mass culture are creating new
adjustments for the individual personality.
Of the m any problems confronting the individual in his
attempt to cope with a changing social environment, one
phenomenon, when viewed from the perspective of the con
temporary world, is particularly significant. Thoughtful
and perceptive men, in various ways, have been saying that
the post-Renaissance individual has experienced an increas
ing sense of estrangement from his environment. Western
industrial societies have developed in such a way that the
individual has become more and more detached from nature,
from his gods, from his machines, from his work and its
products, from his leisure, from his institutions, and,
above a ll, from himself.
Although the feeling of estrangement is an idea that
has appeared throughout the recorded literature of the
Western world, Hegel was the firs t to conceptualize it with
the term that is widely used today. H e described man's
3
sense of detachment from nature with the word "alienation,"
arguing that in learning to control and conquer nature, the
nineteenth-century individual had destroyed his bond with
i t .
t
Other m en followed Hegel, using the term to link the
feeling of estrangement with a number of features of Western
society. Later in the nineteenth century, Karl M arx asso
ciated alienation with capitalism, which had transformed
labor from an integral part of the life cycle to a com m o
dity. M an, thus separated from the chief activity of his
3
Although Hegel was the firs t to use the term in con
nection with feelings of estrangement, the word has an an
cient history that includes several distinct meanings. It
has been used from the R om an era to describe the transfer of
ownership or property to another, and in contemporary Europe
an "alienist" treats the insane.
life , lost part of himself. A half-century later M ax W eber
extended the concept of alienated labor to all organized or
institutionalized work situations, describing a universal
bureaucratic trend which separated soldiers, scientists, and
civ il servants from their respective means of production or
administration.
In the twentieth century hosts of writers have associ
ated alienation with technological progress. Urban ex ist
ence has helped erode such traditional social institutions
as the family and the community, without which m an lacks
identity. Old values have been eroded and new ones have
taken their place. The machine, which earlier had been seen
as providing m an with a safer, more comfortable, and happier
world, has com e to be viewed as escaping man's control. The
increasing mechanization of life disrupts man's bonds with
his institutions and with his environment, thus increasing
the potential for alienation.
Since World W ar II a number of writers have identified
a new development in the evolution of Western society.
W here M arx described the effects of making man's labor a
commodity, C. Wright Mills sees m an himself becoming a
10
4
commodity. H e identifies the mass society as one in which
great numbers of people are recruited and organized for
political* economic* and social purposes. People are re
cruited with the help of mass culture* the communications
system used for transmitting orders* messages* appeals*
entertainment* and information from the leaders to the led.
Ortega y Gasset has written that the mass crushes beneath it
everything that is different* everything that is excellent*
5
individual* qualified* and select. In the mass the indi
vidual becomes an isolated atom* crushed* powerless* en
gulfed by sheer numbers and overwhelmed by anonymous in s ti
tutions .
Looming over the alienated mass society and its culture
is the power of the modern state. In mass society the po
litic a l world is disconnected from man's ethical and cul-
tural life . W here thinkers of the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries were writing of man's ability to be politically
free* contemporary writers have brought that ab ility under
4
"The M ass Society*" in M an Alone, ed. Eric and M ary
Josephson (N ew York: Dell Publishing Co.* 1962)* pp. 201-
227 .
^Jose Ortega y Gasset* The Revolt of the Masses, tran s.
anonymous at tran slato r's request (N ew York: W . W . Norton
and Co.* 1957) .
11
question. Erich From m , for example, has put forth the
argument that m en will sacrifice the meaningless freedom of
the mass society and accept the most terrible discipline in
order to feel part of something greater than themselves
Government, created to serve man, has become his master
instead.
Alienation is a problem that merits the attention of
investigators in a ll of the academic disciplines, for no
aspect of life in the modern world remains untouched by i t.
Not only in scope but in degree the problem reaches dramatic
proportions in the industrialized societies. In fact, m any
writers believe that it is the problem of modern society and
that dealing with it is crucial to the survival of modern
civ ilizatio n .
Apart from the belief that alienation deserves the
attention of researchers because it is such a crucial prob
lem, there is a special significance in investigating this
problem in relation to Mexico. F irst, the Mexican setting
offers a unique background in which to study alienation.
From 1521 to the present, Mexican society has contained both
Western and non-Western cultures. Enclaves of European
Escape from Freedom (N ew York: Rinehart, 1941).
12
civilization have existed side by side with peoples whose
culture is basically Amerindian, and in between is a culture
7
that is an amalgam of the firs t two. The idea of aliena
tion and a ll its related concepts, developed by Western
thinkers and developed in terms of Western history, is now
being applied to a unique setting, and thus the opportunity
for comparisons presents its e lf.
The second reason for maintaining that Mexico is an
especially significant area in which to study alienation
has to do with the element of time. Previously, the dra
matic and relatively rapid sociological changes that have
steadily increased the potential for alienation in Europe
were discussed. It is contended here that sociological
change in Mexico since 1910 represents a compression of the
Western sociological experience of the past five centuries.
Large numbers of Mexicans have been exposed to the types of
changes associated with the Renaissance and the industrial
and philosophical revolutions of the nineteenth and twen
tieth centuries— and a ll in the space of som e fifty years!
This study will explore what happens to a society that
7
The concept of the amalgamated culture w ill be devel
oped fully in Chapter II.
13
resisted change for centuries, and then experienced a
Renaissance, an industrial revolution, and the development
of a mass society and culture within the span of one life
time. If Western m an became increasingly alienated because
he could not adapt to his changing environment through five
centuries, what has happened to the Mexican m an w ho has
personally experienced the whole spectrum of sociological
change? Again, som e new insights can perhaps be offered
into the general problem of alienation by viewing i t in this
telescoped time frame.
The social sciences are not adequate in themselves to
study a phenomenon that basically involves m an as a feeling,
thinking, subjective individual. The literary a rtis t can
expand the two-dimensional concepts of the scientist by
adding a third dimension, one of flesh and blood individu
ality .
The feeling of estrangement is an idea that has ap
peared throughout the recorded literature of the Western
world. This Egyptian chronicler of 4,000 years ago demon
strates that the forces of alienation existed in previous
ages :
N o one ploughs the land. People are saying: " W e do not
know what w ill happen from day to day." . . . N o more do
w e hear anyone laugh. Great m en and small agree in
14
saying: "W ould that I had never been born." O h that
m an could cease to be, that w om en should no longer con
ceive and give birth. Then, at length, the world would
find peace.®
A s the Renaissance was beginning to change man's view
of himself, the French poet Deschamps anticipated the crush
ing anxieties that this would e n ta il:
W h y are the times so dark
M en know each other not at a ll,
But governments quite clearly change
From bad to worse?
Days dead and gone were more worth while,
N o w what holds sway? Deep gloom and boredom,
Justice and law nowhere to be found.
I know no more where I belong. 9
The poet's intuition led him to express anxieties not
yet conceptualized by sc ie n tists: the feelings of detach
ment from self and from others in the individual now re
leased from the security of his medieval bonds.
In this century, while scientists were identifying
technological progress with human progress, literary a rtists
were showing distrust toward this faith in the machine.
Since the beginning of the twentieth century, the alienated
0
Quoted in Karl Jaspers, M an in the Modern A ge (N ew
York: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1957), p. 12.
Q
^Quoted m Josephson and Josephson, eds., p. 17.
15
"hero" has become increasingly important in Western lite ra
ture. The a rtis t, perhaps more concerned about spiritual
and cultural values than with economics, sensed a basic
antagonism between technology and man. Man's alienation
from his work, from himself, and from the reality of society
and nature has never been expressed more profoundly than in
the prose of Feodor Dostoyevsky. The creative genius in
such an a rtis t strives to explore new, unnamed anxieties of
his people, and society can more readily recognize these
problems after they have been so explored.
This work is based on the underlying assumption, then,
that the literary a rtis t and the social scientist can both
m ake contributions to the understanding of a com m on human
problem. It also seems reasonable to assume that such con
tributions will be more significant if the investigation of
one problem in two distinct disciplines is coordinated.
W hat is being suggested here goes beyond the idea of "inter
disciplinary" studies, which implies that two or more d is
ciplines deal separately with a com m on area. Instead, it is
being suggested that p o litical alienation in revolutionary
Mexico can be studied by merging various disciplines within
a com m on system of analysis. In other words, the method
ology being suggested is pan-disciplinary, not inter-
16
disciplinary. 10
The pan-disciplinary study of the problem of p o litical
alienation in twentieth-century Mexico will integrate l i t
erary analysis with the social sciences in a com m on system
of analysis. The firs t step consists of the construction
of a model that systematically and graphically depicts
political alienation in any society. This model w ill be
constructed by synthesizing the research done in a ll the
social sciences, particularly political science, sociology,
and psychology. The word "model" as used here is defined
as a structure of symbols and operating rules, and its
purpose is to provide a systematic framework by which
alienation can be analyzed. The inescapable necessity for
the construction of models was depicted by Karl Deutsch, a
noted authority on social science methodology, with this
comment: " W e are using models, willingly or not, whenever
w e are trying to think systematically about anything at
a l l . "11
^°The term "pan-disciplinary" is borrowed from Fred
Riggs, w ho used it in a similar way in Administration in
Developing Countries (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1964),
pp. 52ff.
"O n Communications Models in the Social Sciences, "
Public Opinion Quarterly, 16 (Fall 1952), 356.
17
Once a model has been constructed, the next step is to
"load" the abstract concepts and symbols of the model with
data from the "real" world. The real world used here will
be the created reality of the literary a rtis t. The model,
created from a synthesis of social science research, will be
loaded by using literary personages and situations from the
novels of Mariano Azuela.
The use of literature as a source of raw data is based
on the assumption that the a rtist, through the creative
process, can m ake valuable contributions to the understand
ing of the reality in which he liv es. Just as the anonymous
Egyptian chronicler, the late Medieval French poet, and the
nineteenth-century Russian novelist contributed to the
understanding of their ow n societies, it seems logical to
assume that Mexican a rtists can do the same. It is further
assumed that these contributions will include the explora
tion of problems not yet dealt with by social science. O ne
can consider such diverse figures as Miguel de Cervantes and
B ob Dylan and find the same result: through his creative
powers, the a rtis t can anticipate the scientist in recog
nizing the problems of his time and place. B y analyzing
p olitical alienation in Mexico through a pan-disciplinary
approach— that is, literary analysis applied to a social
science framework— such assumptions can be examined.
C H A P T E R II
A M O D E L F O R PO L IT IC A L A L IE N A T IO N
A Definition of Political Alienation
Today the term alienation has become a catchword for
m any twentieth-century discontentments, and there is no
consensus on a definition of what constitutes alienation
and how i t can best be conceptualized. In m uch the same w ay
that one can choose from m any different types of m aps of a
region, one can conceptualize alienation in a variety of
ways. A person wanting to travel by automobile from one
point to another w ill prefer a highway m ap to one showing
population densities, even though both m aps are valid and
useful. A psychologist and an economist can sta rt with the
idea of alienation in its broadest sense and develop it in
ways useful to their respective disciplines. Though both
m ay develop entirely different features and relationships,
both studies can be valid if their specific features do not
contradict the general idea of alienation.
1 8
The intent of this section is to build a model that
graphically and systematically depicts p olitical alienation
in a modern society. This model w ill then be used as the
basis for the literary analysis of the various Mexican
novels mentioned earlier. It should be understood that
alienation is being defined and conceptualized so that it
can be usefully applied to the purposes of this study. W hat
follows is not meant to be the definition or the model for
alienation. It is not the "map," but a m ap designed for a
specific purpose.
Alienation is viewed here as the process or state of
dissociation from self, from others, and from the world at
large. The essential characteristic of the alienated indi
vidual is his belief that he is not fulfilling what he be
lieves to be his rightful role in society. B y applying the
modifier "political" to the idea of alienation, the focus
becomes the p o litical process and the individual's view of
his role in that process. P olitical alienation, then, is
being viewed in two distinct categories: i t is a socio
logical process, involving the interaction of an individual
with his environment; it is a state of mind as well. Writ
ers from M arx to C. Wright Mills have dealt with alienation
primarily as a sociological phenomenon, that is, the firs t
2 0
category. Others, especially contemporary researchers such
as Melvin Seeman, are interested primarily in the individ
ual's experience of his ow n situation, that is, his psycho
logical s ta te . 1
Writers w ho view alienation as a sociological phenome
non focus on cultural and environmental factors of a soci
ety. A s discussed earlier, alienation as a Western idea
stems from the Renaissance and accelerates with each major
sociological change in Western society. This process of
change includes the development of new institutions, new
structures, new values that the individual learns, and new
expectations within the individual with regard to his role
in the society. This sociological setting will be dealt
with in more detail later. The key point here is that
alienation can be seen as a process caused by a discrepancy
between the expectations of an individual and a particular
social structure which prevents the realization of those
expectations. For example, an individual expects to p a rti
cipate actively in a political system, but some p o litical
structure prevents this participation. The process, the
Kelvin Seeman, "O n the Meaning of Alienation," Ameri
can Sociological Review. 24, No. 6 (Deo. 1959).
2 1
interaction of the individual and the p olitical structure,
is an alienating one. The individual becomes estranged from
the structure because of the discrepancy between his expec
tations and the reality of his situation.
In this sociological view, alienation becomes a matter
of degree. A person's expectations are in the nature of
ideals, and ideals, by definition, cannot be completely
attained. If reality approaches the ideal, a new ideal will
be established that is more distant from that reality .
There is always a discrepancy between what a p o litical sys
tem could or should be and the way it actually isj thus
there is always som e degree of alienation in individuals
with p olitical expectations that conflict with p olitical
structures. This is consistent with the widely accepted
notion that alienation is inescapable in modern societies.
The important question then becomes the degree of alienation
between the individual and a structure. Various personages
from Mexican novels w ill offer som e insights into p olitical
expectations, p o litical structures, and the alienating
process between them. The question to be explored is not
whether there is alienation, but what are the discrepant
variables causing an alienating process.
22
The P olitical Process
A p o litical structure can be defined as a specific
pattern of operation that is a standard feature of a par
ticular system. This pattern of operation consists of ob
servable activ ities, and the term "structure1 1 implies that
there is a certain regularity to the activ ities. The activ
ity of an individual in the political process is defined as
his role. In a structure, particular sets of roles are
related to one another in a predictable way. Thus a court
of law can be viewed as a structure in which such various
individuals as judge, jury, witness, defendant, and lawyer
perform their roles in a regular and observable manner.
The terms "role" and "structure" are used here instead
of "office" and "institution" in order to give emphasis to
the actual behavior of individuals and the actual perform
ance of an institution. Office and institution m ay refer to
formal rules, such as those presumed to govern the behavior
of judges and lawyers, or to some ideal norm of behavior;
but legal rules and ideal norms of behavior rarely, if ever,
accurately describe patterns of operation and individual
p o litical a c tiv itie s.
B y losing a concept that centers on actual behavior
rather than legal c riteria and ideal norms, the analyst
23
gains the important advantage of having a term that is
"universal." For example: the political system of a simple
society will have all of the types of political structures
which are to be found in the most complex system, when ana
lyzed in terms of actual behavior. A ny society which main
tains internal and external order does so through political
structure, that is, a series of legitimate patterns of
interaction. To say that there are no structures would be
to argue that the performance of the political function is
random, in which case there would be no "system."
"Political function" is another concept that focuses on
actual behavior, and consequently is universal: the same
political functions are performed in all political systems,
no matter how simple or complex. Scholars in the field,
adhering to what might be called the "behavioral approach,"
generally agree on six functional categories for all p o liti
cal systems:
IN PU T F U N C T IO N S
PF^a ....................... Interest articulation
P F ^ .......................Interest aggregation
pf2 O U T P U T F U N C T IO N S
PF2 a .......................Rule-making
PF2j j .......................Rule-application
PF2c ....................... Rule-adjudication
PF^ PF 3 ....................... Political communication
24
This sixfold functional scheme represents the conver
sion processes of a political system. Conversion processes
are the ways in which demands on the system are organized
(inputs) and the ways in which demands are transformed into
authoritative decisions and are implemented (outputs). All
systems must have ways in which demands can be formulated
(interest articulation); ways in which demands are combined
in the form of alternative courses of action (interest
aggregation); ways in which these demands and alternatives,
J - '
and the responses to demands and alternatives, can be com
municated (political communication).
Based on these input functions, all systems must have
ways in which authoritative rules can be formulated (rule-
making); ways in which these rules can be applied and en
forced (rule-application); and ways in which these applica
tions of rules are adjudicated in individual cases (rule
adjudication). In addition, these various output activities
must also be communicated, both within the political system
and between the system and its environment (political com
munication)
2
The chief theorists associated with developing the
functional approach employed here are the anthropologist
A. R. Radcliffe-Brown in Structure and Function in Primitive
25
While all systems entail the performance of these func
tions , and while all systems must have structures which
serve to regularize these functions, there are great dif
ferences am ong systems as to their nature and style. These
differences are of fundamental importance to the problem
being investigated in this study.
A s discussed earlier, political alienation is viewed
sociologically as stemming from the discrepancy between
political expectations and political realizations. If this
discrepancy theory is applied to the functional scheme dis
cussed above, political alienation can be associated with
specific functions and structures. For example: an indi
vidual m ay expect to be able to articulate his interests
through membership in a trade union; but his political
reality m ay dictate that the interest articulation function
be accomplished through some other structures, a kinship
group for example. In this case the interest articulation
Society (N ew York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1957); the
sociologist Talcott Parsons in Essays in Sociological Theory
Pure and Applied (N ew York: The Free Press, 1959); Robert
K . Merton in Social Theory and Social Structure (N ew York:
The Free Press, 1957); Marion Levy in The Structure of Soci
ety (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1952). The
scheme used here is adapted from Gabriel Almond and G . Bing
ham Powell, Jr., Comparative Politics: A Developmental
Approach (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1966).
26
function is an alienating one for this individual because
of a discrepancy between the way interests are articulated
and the way he thinks they should be articulated. In addi
tion, the individual would be alienated from the structure
that did not satisfy his expectations .
If political alienation is to be described in terms of
functions and structures, and explained by contrasting what
is with what should be. it becomes necessary to develop
contrasting models for that process . Scholars have devel
oped such models for the purpose of comparing, classifying,
3
and characterizing political systems throughout the world.
It is felt here that these "ideal types," created for the
purpose of comparing the political systems of Western
democracies with the systems of more traditional nations,
can be utilized in contrasting political expectations and
realizations at the individual level also.
Political structures and functions, then, in terms of
expectations and realizations, can range from the tradi
tional to the modern ideal. At the modern end of the con
tinuum, political structures are viewed as being "associa-
tional." Associational structures are specialized in that
3
See Almond and Powell, pp. 31-41.
27
they are organized to have one specific function; they tend
to represent explicitly the interests of a particular group;
they employ a full-time professional staff; their membership
and staff are recruited by universal standards; and they
have a high degree of autonomy in relation to other p o liti
cal structures- A trade union, for example, is an associa-
tional political structure. Ideally its function is to
represent the interests of its members above all else; it
employs professionals to accomplish its goals; its members
qualify on the basis of employment skills; and it has a high
degree of autonomy in that it is not controlled by manage
ment .
At the traditional end of the continuum, political
structures are viewed as being "nonassociational," that is,
resembling clans. They contrast with associations on each
point mentioned above: they are multifunctional, performing
varied functions intermittently; they represent a broad
range of groups and individuals; they are not administered
on a professional basis; membership is ascribed by particu
laristic standards; and their relationship to other p o liti
cal structures is hierarchical, being characterized by
subordination or authority rather than autonomy. The land
owning family in the Mexican hacienda system, for example,
28
is a nonassociational political structure: the patron per
forms both input and output functions intermittently, and
for all groups within his domain; of course he has no pro
fessional staff, and he acquired his role by the ascriptive
criterion of birth; and his relationship to other groups is
one of complete authority.
In addition to assigning specific and differentiating
characteristics to traditional and modern political struc
tures, it will be useful to characterize the style of polit
ical functions at each end of the continuum. Style in this
case refers to the general manner in which structures per
form their functions. In the modern system, political
functions are classified as being "secular." The secular
style is characterized by the following of orderly and
regularized procedures; decisions are m ade on the basis of
rational, analytical, and empirical considerations and there
is a norm of impartiality surrounding the performance of a
political function. The trade union, for example, displays
a secular style if it gathers information through regular
ized procedures, evaluates that information rationally, and
selects a course of action in trying to accommodate the
interests of all its members.
The style of political functions in the traditional
29
system is classified as "sacred." The sacred style is
characterized by the following of time-honored tradition,
not rationality, in making decisions. This reliance on
patterns of the past imparts a moral and religious quality
to the performance of a political function. The patron, for
example, performs his varied political functions according
to the weight of custom rather than on the basis of analysis
or empirical evidence; the partiality shown in political
functions is generally accepted, because nonacceptance can
be construed as a rejection of society, of heritage, and
even of the "will of God."
To this point political alienation has been dealt with
in its sociological dimension. The next step becomes the
addition of the psychological dimension. Psychological
alienation is defined as a subjective state in which the
individual experiences the feeling of dissociation from the
political process. The literature offers m any alternative
ways to categorize specific feelings within the general
concept of political alienation. In this synthesis four of
the most widely used concepts are used to distinguish these
4
psychological states:
The concepts being used are based on the typology
1. Powerlessness, defined as a feeling by the indi
vidual that he cannot determine or influence the course of
political events. H e feels that he has no control over his
political destiny, and there is a sense of inadequacy sur
rounding individual political actions.
2. Meaninglessness, defined as a feeling or state in
which the individual no longer understands the functioning
of the political organizations with which he has contact.
H e feels that his political activity is limited to options
that are all undesirable, and he fails to understand the
meaning of his ow n actions, since there is no logical rela
tionship between his activity and its purpose.
3. Normlessness, defined as a feeling or state in
which the individual has lowered or violated his ethical
standards in order to achieve a political goal. Not being
able to achieve that goal by means that lie within the norms
of society, he reaches or attempts to reach his goal by
means that are unacceptable in terms of those norms.
4. Isolation, defined as a feeling or state in which
developed by Seeman, pp. 753-758. Seeman's typology in
cludes the four above plus the concept of self-estrangement.
The latter concept was not included in this typology because
it seemed so closely related to powerlessness and meaning
lessness .
31
the individual has rejected the norms of his society. The
normless person accepts the goals of his society but uses
illegitimate means to reach those goals. The isolate goes
a step further if he does not even accept the goals of his
society.
Political alienation, then, is viewed as proceeding
from sociological conditions and as manifesting itself in
the mental state of the individual. This section is devoted
to incorporating in the alienation model specific charac
teristics of the environment within which the individual
and political institutions interact. Alienation has been
identified as stemming from a discrepancy between political
expectations and realizations. Both of these variables are
shaped by cultural values: an individual's expectations are
based on values and norms transmitted to him and learned by
him, and political structures are shaped by the values of
the politically powerful. Since alienation can be linked to
the modernization process, alienating discrepancies can be
seen in terms of a contrast between modern and traditional
values. With this goal in mind, a cultural continuum will
be constructed in which modern culture represents one pole,
and the opposite pole is described as traditional culture.
In order to "load" these two concepts with specific
32
characteristics, the ideas of numerous researchers have been
5
used. Joseph A. Kahl summarizes the characteristics of
modern m an in this way:
. . . the modern man, through the way he perceives the
world around him and its opportunities for himself, and
through the way he chooses which paths to follow, is a
m an w ho seeks to control his life, plan his future,
climb up a bit in the status hierarchy, and improve his
material circumstances— because these ends are desirable
and also because they are seen as obtainable. (p. 133)
The key characteristic of modern culture in terms of
personality seems to be activism. The typical modern m an
attempts to organize the future to serve his ow n purposes.
H e also has a strong identity as an individual. H e tends
to avoid extreme identification with people in his ow n work
group and social group. H e says that he would prefer to
express his ow n ideas and make his ow n decisions even if
his peers disagree.
The social aspects of modern culture include several
important characteristics. First, an amount of mobility in
society is assumed by the modern man. H e sees life chances
or career opportunities as open rather than closed: a m an
5
See especially Erich From m and Michael Maccoby, Social
Character in a Mexican Village: A Sociopsychoanalytic Study
(Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1970), and Joseph
A. Kahl, Measurement of Modernism: A Study of Values in
Brazil and Mexico (Austin: Univ. of Texas Press, 1968).
33
of humble background is assumed to have a chance to fu lfill
his dream and rise within the system. Second* modern m an
has what Kahl describes as a low integration with relatives.
H e is willing to m ove away from his relatives and to depend
on his ow n initiative; he does not find security in strong
family ties; in fact* nepotism is more of a burdensome
responsibility than a mechanism of security. Here the term
"associationalism" will be used to describe modern man's low
integration with relatives. H e joins associational groups
based on his achievements and has ready access to as m any
such groups as he desires* as long as he is willing to con
form to the norms of each group.
The economic aspects of modern culture are based on
materialism and the profit motive. For the modern m an his
work is not necessarily an integral part of his life. The
work process itself has little meaning other than as a means
to acquire things for use in life away from work. Also* the
modern m an does not use the product of his labor. Instead*
he produces in order to m ake a profit* either directly or
indirectly. A nd the channels to economic well-being are
open to all* with one's economic success depending primarily
on personal achievement.
Politically* modern culture encourages active
34
participation. Modern m an sees the government as the
aggregator of his interests, and he will participate in the
political process to ensure that it continues to satisfy
those interests. Also, modern culture tends to favor what
From m and M accoby call a democratic orientation (pp. 80-82).
Having an individual identity, he feels protected by laws
based on his rights as an individual rather than based on
his status. H e views all people as being equally human;
therefore all should have equal rights. The weak should not
be held in contempt nor the strong idealized.
In summary, the following characteristics comprise
modern culture: psychologically, activism and individual
ism; socially, mobility and associationalism; economically,
materialism and production for profit; and politically,
participation and equalitarianism. These characteristics
are values, that is, abstract principles that serve as
guides for behavior. Of course there is always a differ
ence between guides for behavior and the way m en actually
behave. But as one pole of a continuum, the sum total of
these values represents the ideal state described as modern
culture.
The other pole of the continuum, labeled traditional
culture, is meant to describe the sum total of the ways of
35
living of m en w ho have not experienced the sociological
changes associated with the Renaissance. The values that
serve as guides for their behavior are based in the feudal
world that preceded the Renaissance, and they represent the
opposite pole of the continuum.
Psychologically, traditional culture is characterized
by fatalism and collective identity. The traditional m an
perceives himself as permanently stuck in a life which does
not change and which cannot be controlled to any great ex
tent. H e learns to take life as it comes, to adjust to it,
and to accept it rather than constantly trying to change i t .
H e shuns the individualism of the m an w ho is directing his
ow n destiny, instead preferring the security that comes with
the submergence of the individual in the collectivity.
Socially, the modern value of mobility is contrasted
with the rigidity of traditional culture. The traditional
man's community is rigidly stratified, and since status is
ascribed, not achieved, he stays in his place. Through his
resignation he gains safety, as m en in higher positions will
protect him so long as he stays in his place. Those in high
positions find security in knowing that their favors will
ensure the loyalty of the recipients. A s for the associa-
tionalism of the modern culture, the opposite characteristic
36
in the traditional culture is familism. The modern m an
joins or deals with a variety of associational groups in
his daily life; the traditional m an fills his economic,
social, and political needs through members of his extended
family.
The modern economic characteristics of materialism and
profit are contrasted with the traditional counterparts,
spiritualism and subsistence. The traditional man's labor,
which is almost always on the land, is an integral part of
his life. There is a spiritual quality about the land and
what it produces. Whether farmer or potter, the traditional
laborer does not view his work as a commodity, but as a
means to satisfy his needs. H e uses that which he produces
for his ow n subsistence, as opposed to the modern man, whose
labor production is given an exchange value determined by
market laws.
The modern political values of participation and equal-
itarianism are opposed by the traditional values of passi
vity and authoritarianism. The traditional m an accepts the
passive role of not participating in decisions that affect
him. Political power is not challenged, partly because a
certain benevolence is attributed to the power holders.
Passivity can be a tactic for getting along in a world where
37
pleasing the powerful leads to the procurement of favors.
The traditional m an accepts a fixed sociopolitical structure
in which power holders deserve respect and obedience, re
gardless of ideals, because greater merit explains their
power holdings. H e accepts the authoritarian principle that
power holders are not held accountable for their power by
the people over w hom they wield power.
Since this study focuses on alienation in relation to
one specific part of an individual's environment, it will be
useful to develop characteristics of that particular area in
more detail. In order to understand "political" alienation,
something must be known of the attitudes and orientations
toward politics that prevail am ong members of a political
system. Social scientists have developed the concept of
political culture to describe the attitudes, beliefs, val
ues, and skills which are current and which predominate in
the political system of a population.^ Som e of the classi
fications used within the concept of political culture are
being adapted for use in this study.
0
The concept of political culture being used here is
taken from Gabriel Almond, "A Functional Approach to C om
parative Politics," Introduction to The Politics of Develop
ing Areas, ed. Gabriel Alm ond and James Coleman (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1960), pp. 3-64.
38
Here the assumption is m ade that political culture is
but one aspect of the more general culture previously dis
cussed. Hence the same continuum device used to classify
general cultural characteristics, i.e ., from traditional to
modern, can be used to classify values concerning politics.
In other words, political cultures can be viewed as ranging
from traditional to modern by identifying the political
values that prevail in the political ambience, and it can be
assumed that a population group that is traditional in its
general cultural values will also be traditional in its
political values. Conversely, one can expect a modern
political culture where modern cultural values predominate.
The first aspect of political culture to be employed
here will be classified as "political orientation," which is
meant to describe the way an individual sees himself in
relation to politics and the political system. The tradi
tional pole of the continuum is represented by the concept
"subject orientation." This orientation fits logically with
the traditional values of fatalism and passivity in that
subjects are not oriented to participate in the input func
tions of the political process. Their awareness centers on
the outputs of the system, such as welfare benefits, laws,
and structures, and the impact these functions m ay have on
39
their lives. Those without political power expect and
accept their situation as a norm; and conversely, those with
power expect the powerless to act like subjects.
Subjects m ay be "parochial" or "national" in their
perception of w ho are the powerful. The parochial subject
manifests little or no awareness of the national political
system. In this case political power is immediate and by
direct contact. Parochials can be found in any society,
but it seems reasonable to assume that they would be more
com m on in traditional cultures that have regional groups not
yet affected significantly by the national polity.
The modern pole of the continuum is represented by the
concept of a "participant" political orientation. Partici
pants are oriented to the input structures and functions of
the political process. They engage in, or view themselves
as potentially engaging in, the articulation of demands and
the making of decisions. This orientation associates logi
cally with the general cultural values of activism and par-
ticipation.
Robert E. Scott has used the concept of political ori
entation to discuss Mexico from 1910 through 1960. H e e sti
mates that in 1910 some 90 per cent of the Mexican popula
tion were parochials, 9 per cent were subjects, and 1 per
40
cent were participants. B y I960, 25 per cent were paro
chial, 65 per cent were subjects, and 10 per cent were par
ticipants . ^
A second aspect of political culture that will prove
useful in this study is the process of political socializa
tion. Through this function individuals are inducted into
the political culture, and their orientations toward p o liti
cal objects are formed. The socialization process of the
traditional and modern political cultures can be differen
tiated by specific characteristics. In the traditional
political culture there are relatively few structures that
have a specific function, so political socialization tends
to fall under the exclusive control of primary groups.
Lineage, status, and religious groups serve to socialize
individuals along with their other functions.
The modern political culture, on the other hand, often
features secondary groups that are part of the socialization
process. Such agencies as schools, work organizations, and
peer groups extend and broaden the individual's socializa
tion experience. This is not meant to imply that modern m en
7
"Mexico: The Established Revolution, 1 1 in Political
Culture and Political Development, ed. Lucian W . Pye and
Sidney Verba (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press,
1965), pp. 345ff.
41
avoid socialization by primary groups. The experiences of
childhood are am ong the strongest in the socialization
process regardless of the type of political culture in
volved. B y associating primary groups with the traditional
end of the continuum and secondary groups with the modern
end, it is understood that those secondary groups contribute
to socialization in addition to, not instead of, primary
groups.
A third feature of political culture, linked very
closely to the socialization process, is the recruitment
process. Added to the process whereby political attitudes
and values are inculcated into individuals from childhood
on, the recruitment process refers to the assignment of
political roles to specific individuals. The manner in
which individuals are recruited can be contrasted according
to the traditional-modern continuum. At the traditional
pole, recruitment to a political role tends to be based on
particularistic criteria: ethnic background, family name,
linguistic consideration, and social status, for example.
At the modern end, role recruitment tends to be universal
is tic : by election process, by lot, by proof of ability
through formal examination, and by license, for example.
42
The Amalgamated Culture
The above discussion conceptualized traditional and
modern cultures as poles of a continuum. Of course, the
poles of the continuum are ideals and cannot be reached.
N o individual can be completely traditional or completely
modern, and all human beings reflect, to some extent, a
mixture of cultures in their values. In trying to identify
the values of a particular individual, the best that can be
hoped for is to be able to describe him as tending toward
one end or the other, or the middle. It is that "middle"
that is the subject of this section, whose purpose is to
develop a classification that is intermediate to the two
already developed.
David Riesman was one of the first to conceptualize
this intermediate position with his theory of tradition-
g
direction, other-direction, and inner-direction. Riesman's
tradition-directed m an relies on custom, on immemorial
usage, to determine how he should behave. H e has few nor
mative choices to make, because everyone in his social group
g
The Lonely Crowd: A Study of the Changing American
Character (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday and Co., 1953).
For a discussion of Riesman's concepts as they relate to
developing countries see Riggs, pp. 86-91.
43
accepts the same traditional norms. H e can be at ease only
in his ow n primary group, as once outside he becomes lost
and bewildered by unfamiliar norms.
At the other extreme, Riesman describes the other-
directed m an as one w ho adjusts and adapts to associational
environments by acceptance of the norms expressed by the
groups with which he interacts. The other-directed m an must
have a high degree of individualism, for he must adapt to
constantly-shifting normative situations. His decisions
involve not so much choice am ong values as recognition of
the value system of the group he happens to be in at the
moment.
Riesman1 s inner-directed m an represents a position
intermediate to these two extremes. The inner-directed m an
has broken loose from traditional guidelines for behavior,
but he cannot adapt his personal behavior to conform to the
norms of each new group he comes in contact with. The re
sult is the development of a highly internalized set of
norms, which compel the inner-directed m an to steer his ow n
privately established course of behavior. Uprodted from
traditional norms but not yet having the psychic flexibility
which permits him to shift values from one situation to
another, inner-directed m an adopts his ow n personal set of
44
values and norms.
Riesman's concepts and the cultural continuum dis
cussed earlier are related and support each other, but they
are different in purpose. Riesman is identifying three
distinct modes of origin for norms, but his concepts do not
indicate what these norms might be . The traditional-modern
continuum tries to identify characteristics associated with
each culture; so the concept of the inner-directed man,
while providing valuable insights into the psychological
nature of an individual in an intermediate position between
tradition and modernism, does not f ill the need of associat
ing characteristics with that position.
Other writers have used such terms as "transitional"
and "marginal" in discussing individuals and societies
caught between tradition and modernity. Kahl describes the
transitional m en who, in countries such as Mexico, are dis
lodged from rural areas and flock to urban factories. They
develop new aspirations, but the material rewards are s till
rather small. Even though they live somewhat better than
before, they are s till at the bottom of the hierarchy within
the factory system, and they become conscious of the rich
and more powerful m en around them. The transitional m an is
s till traditional in values, but he has changed just enough
45
to desire advancement, material gain, and most or all of the
values associated with modern culture.
Pablo Gonzalez Casanova uses the term "marginal man" to
9
describe the Mexican caught in the intermediate position.
Marginal m an is described as a traditional, submissive, and
apathetic individual. H e m ay have occasional fantasies of
protest, but he knows he will lose more than he gains if he
raises his voice. Thus he belongs to no organizations, does
not participate in elections, does not adopt a radical
ideology, and has little faith that the government will ever
do anything for him. In fact, his only hope for a little
gain is to have a rich or powerful patron w ho will, as a
personal favor, help him out.
A s was the case with the concept of inner-direction,
these two concepts seemed unsatisfactory for the purposes of
this study. "Transitional man," for example, implies that
the conditions of life being described are transitory, and
the individual involved is evolving toward modernity. It is
felt here that values reflected by m en in the intermediate
state are as permanent as modern or traditional values, and
9
Democracy in Mexico, trans. Danielle Salti (N ew York:
Oxford Univ. Press, 1970).
46
that the assumption of transition, that is movement toward
modernity, might not be a valid one. A s for "marginal man,"
the term semantically carries the implication of a numerical
minority living on the fringe of the well-established,
stable value system of the majority. This seems inappro
priate, or at least questionable, for a society such as
Mexico's, where the majority of the population m ay very well
belong to the intermediate position. Also, the terms mar
ginal and transitional connote m en of lower economic status,
and that makes them inappropriate for the purposes of this
model. The desired concept must center on values and a tti
tudes, not economics. Rich or poor, patron or peon, any
individual whose values reflect a mixture of the traditional
and the modern can pertain to the middle position.
Since the terms already in use in the social sciences
are unsatisfactory for the reasons given above, the middle
position will be conceptualized as the "amalgamated culture."
Literally, an amalgam is a substance composed of two or more
metals, or a metal and nonmetallic materials, that have been
intimately mixed. A s used metaphorically here, amalgamated
culture is defined as the collection of norms and values
that compose a way of living, with those norms and values
having resulted from an intimate mixture or combination of
traditional and modern values. These characteristics are
transmitted from generation to generation, and taken to
gether they can be labeled as a culture that is independent
of the traditional and the modern classifications- The
modifier "amalgamated" does not imply direction toward
modernity, nor the deviant behavior of a minority, nor a
low economic status, nor a racial or ethnic mixture of any
kind. The amalgamated m an is one who behaves according to
values that are a mixture of traditional and modern values.
This mixture m ay be predominantly traditional or predomi
nantly modern; but, like its counterpart in the physical
world, it m ay also be such an intimate mixture as to defy
classification under the concepts developed for traditional
and modern cultures. In other words, an amalgamated man's
behavior m ay be linked to the traditional value of fatalism,
or it m ay be linked to its modern counterpart, activism; but
these two concepts m ay not be the most adequate in attempt
ing to classify the amalgamated man's values. A n objective
of this work is to identify with new concepts the cultural
characteristics of this intermediate culture. This will be
accomplished in subsequent chapters on the basis of the
personalities created by Mariano Azuela.
Figure 1 represents the completed model, a systematic
48
G E N E R A L C U L T U R E
Traditional Values Modern Values
Fatalism -- - - - -
Collectivism - - - -
Stratification - - -
Familism -- - - - -
Spiritualism - - - -
- - - - Activism
- - Individualism
Associationalism
• - - - Materialism
i
1
PO LITICA L C U L T U R E
1
i
.1
Traditional Aspects
i
Modern Aspects
Subject orientation
Primary group
socialization - -
Particularistic
recruitment - - -
Secondary group
- - - - - - - - - - - - - socialization
Universalistic
1
D IS C R E P A N C Y
1
1
Traditional Political
Reality
1
Modern Political
Expectations
"Sacred" functions Secular functions
•••• Alienation -------
Clans
• • • •
Associations
I
A FFE C TIV E S T A T E S
Powerlessness
Meaninglessness
Normlessness
Isolation
Fig. 1.—A Model for Political Alienation.
framework within which data taken from novels can be
structured. The figure contains a cultural continuum with
traditional and modern poles and an intermediate, or "amal
gamated, " position. The dominant cultural values produce a
dominant political culture; the political process consists
of structures and functions that are manifestations of the
dominant political culture; an individual has expectations
concerning his political role, which stem from learned cul
tural values and norms; alienation results from a discrep
ancy between political expectations and some part of the
political process; and alienation manifests itself psycho
logically in the affective state of the individual.
Figure 1 portrays the political alienation of a modern
individual from a traditional political system. Alienation
is seen as a matter of degree, existing whenever individual
expectations and political reality do not coincide. While
the figure portrays a modern individual in a traditional
reality, alienation exists whenever there is a discrepancy
between the two variables: the greater the discrepancy, the
greater the affliction of alienation.
The model has limitations, some of which can be attrib
uted to the use of an experimental methodology, earlier
described as pan-disciplinary. Perhaps the most obvious
50
limitation is that the concepts used in the model do not
lend themselves to a quantification of results. But the
system is not being employed for the purpose of measuring
political alienation from a scientific sample of Mexican
society- rather its purpose is qualitative. It is designed
as a framework for analysis in order to ascertain the nature
of political alienation, not the amount. B y "loading" the
system with literary personages and situations, a qualita
tive analysis of political alienation, including the related
concepts and relational propositions as illustrated in Fig
ure 1, will be realized.
The placing of literary analysis within the social
science model offers several additional investigative possi
bilities . First, the evolution of novelistic interpreta
tions can be traced through the three chronological periods
that compose the time frame for this study. Also, novelis-
tic interpretations can be compared and contrasted with
social science research on the same subject. From this it
can be ascertained how consistent the artistically created
personages and environment are with the historical view of
the period. Finally, it is hoped that a greater insight
into the abstract concepts employed in social science can
be gained by having these concepts loaded with three-
51
dimensional characters, individuals "de carne y hueso."
All of these research possibilities will be dealt with in
subsequent chapters.
CHAPTER I I I
T H E H IST O R IC A L SETTIN G : T H E M E X IC A N A M A L G A M
The Western Watersheds
The purpose of this chapter is to present a b rief sur
vey of Mexican history as viewed within the frame of refer
ence of the problem of p olitical alienation. Since that
problem has already been outlined as a Western one, the
following survey places Mexican history within the context
of Western historical development. Western civilization,
as discussed earlier, experienced dramatic sociological
changes in the past five centuries, and these changes have
been interpreted as having steadily increased the potential
for alienation. It is logical to assume that the Western
sociological changes were brought to Mexico, at least to its
Western urban enclavesj and since Westerners, specifically
Spaniards, were the dominant group by virtue of Cortes' con
quest, their institutions must have affected non-Western
elements as well.
52
53
The contention of this historical survey is that West
ern sociological changes were brought to Mexico's Western
enclaves, but they influenced Mexican society in ways dra
matically different from the ways in which Western society
responded. Such watersheds of Western history as the Ren
aissance, the industrial revolution, the political Enlight
enment, and the scientific and technological revolution are
thought of as having certain characteristics and as affect
ing the development of Western civilization in specific
ways. But when these same characteristics were introduced
to Mexico through its Western enclaves, they had a markedly
different influence on the development of Mexican society.
The watershed events being referred to a ll evolved
naturally and logically within societies that were rela
tively homogeneous. A long period of evolution preceded
each watershed, and the watershed its e lf, although often
given the label "revolution," occurred over a period of
time. The industrial revolution, for example, evolved from
everything that preceded it* it proceeded immediately from
the development of village industry, where manufacturing
took place in rural homes with families being paid for their
work by the owner of the raw materials, the entrepreneur.
The great changes in society encompassed a period of
54
transition of two generations.
The changes that are associated with these watersheds
were brought to. Mexico; they did not evolve logically from
Mexican history. The following discussion of Western water
shed events as seen in the Mexican ambience has the purpose
of demonstrating that i t is an error to assume that a water
shed event produced in Mexico what it had produced in Eu
rope. The superficial characteristics were adopted and
imitated in the Western enclaves, but foreign models could
not be imitated in such a dramatically different social
settin g .
In the year 1521 Hernan Cortes imposed upon a conquered
people a new god and new secular in stitu tio n s. The con-
quistadores also brought with them a new concept of m an as
an individual. The idea of individual sovereignty, given
impetus by the Renaissance, was to expose European m an to
crushing new anxieties, thus playing an important role in
the evolution of alienation. The main consideration here is
that the idea of individual sovereignty w as brought to
Mexico, imposed upon Mexico, from abroad. It, like the
other social, economic, and p olitical changes stemming from
the Renaissance, did not evolve naturally from the Mexican
environment; rather, it was transmitted through the Western
55
enclaves to the rest of Mexican society.
Cortes and his m en were indeed individuals of the
Renaissance; but this concept, when a rtifically placed in
an environment where group identity and obedience were
rooted in tradition, would be limited, superficial, and even
subverted. A most important Spanish institution, the en-
comienda, can serve to illu stra te . A s viewed from the per
spective of Madrid, the encomienda can be seen as an en
lightened institution. The encomendero was charged by the
Spanish government with recognizing the individual rights
of the Indians, w ho were free and equal subjects of the
crown.^ The encomienda m ay not be a Renaissance in stitu
tion, but, at least in the eyes of the Spanish crown, it w as
designed to aid the Indians' transition from feudal serfs to
modern, participating subjects of the Spanish realm. But
after four centuries of "transitio n," the dominant land
tenure system in the Mexico of 1900 was the hacienda.
Cortes and his followers were m en of the Renaissance;
but the m en of Mexico became objects upon w h o m the conquer
ors demonstrated their individual sovereignty. The notion
■ * T o r a thorough description of the encomienda. see
Leslie B. Simpson, The Encomienda in N ew Spain (Berkeley:
Univ. of California Press, 1950) .
of individual sovereignty could exist within the population
of the Western enclaves, but it contradicted the historical
circumstances of the non-Western areas . The conquest of
1521 entailed the defeat of one culture by another, and even
though this conquest was achieved through technological
superiority, the result was the establishment of a cultural
hierarchy. The superiority of one person over another based
on cultural considerations subverted the idea of individual
sovereignty, and it remained limited and superficial in the
Mexican environment until after 1910. Carlos Fuentes de
scribes this superficiality brought about by the imitation
of European institutions in this passage from his novel,
W here the Air Is Clear (La region m as transparente) :
The beginning, the origin. All the rest is masquerade.
There, in our origin, Mexico s t i l l exists, is what is,
is never what can be but what it i s . A nd what Mexico
is, is fixed forever, incapable of evolution. Mother
stone cannot be shifted. A ny sort of slime m ay grow
on that stone. But the stone doesn't change, it is the
same forever.^
The concept developed here to characterize that limited
and superficial nature of Western institutions is the amal
gamated culture. The essential characteristic of an amalgam
o
W here the Air Is Clear, tran s. Sam Hileman (N ew York:
Ivan Obolensky, Inc., 1960), p. 102.
57
is that it is a mixture of two or more elements. Thus the
metaphor being used here is similar to Fuentes1 slime on
stone with regard to the superficiality of European in s ti
tutions, but i t differs in the notion of evolution. Unlike
slime, which does not alter the stone, amalgamation is an
evolution to a different substance with distinct properties
and characteristics.
The amalgamation process occurs at the point of contact
between the two different cultures, and the encomienda is
one such point. The encomienda helped amalgamate ideas
about individual sovereignty with those of Indian subordi
nation ; and the result, in p olitical terms, was a hierar
chical system within whose strata there w as som e mobility.
The Spaniards, by virtue of conquest, dominated the channels
to p o litical power: wealth, social standing, access to
government, and exceptional ab ility . In fact, the con-
quistadores had exclusive control over a ll of these except
the last, and in the case of exceptional ability their
birthright certainly gave them advantage if not exclusive
control.
This domination of power w as passed dow n from genera
tion to generation, and the p olitical aspects of Mexican
society seemed to resemble that of feudal Europe; but the
58
process of amalgamation gave rise to som e important d iffer
ences . The European feudal society w as life-centered, being
briefly but rather completely described by a historian as
one where "... economic interests are subordinated to the
3
real business of life, which is salvation." Economic and
political power in feudal Europe were determined by b irth .
The seigneur and the clergy controlled the land and p o liti
cal power, the only other component of the feudal order
being the m an w ho tille d the land, the serf. The serf was
without any real p olitical power, but there was one impor
tant check on the power of the landed aristocracy: the
values and ideals upon which that society w as based obliged
the feudal lord to care for and protect his serfs. A t its
best, this paternal system w as benevolent, with two impor
tant factors promoting benevolence. First, the spiritual
and moral guardian of the society, the Church, w as part of
the power structure itse lf; and second, the seigneur was
likely to live up to his paternal obligations because his
society w as centered not on economic interests but rather on
the "real business of life ."
3
R. H. Tawney, Religion and the Rise of Capitalism (N ew
York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1926), p. 31.
For several reasons, the seemingly feudal society that
developed in Mexico w as m uch less likely to maintain this
feudal characteristic of paternal benevolence. F irst, the
patron (the equivalent of the European seigneur in N ew
Spain) had to have his sense of obligation and charity weak
ened by his American ambience. The European peasant w as
part of a unified, homogeneous, Christian community. The
Mexican peon, on the other hand, had his status imposed by
military conquest, and he was ethnically and culturally
different from his master.
A second reason for the lack of paternal benevolence in
Mexico was that the "real business of life" for the patron
was no longer exclusively salvation. The patron, belonging
to the Western enclave, acquired new models to follow, in
cluding the value of material accumulation. In other words,
the feudal value of paternal benevolence was challenged by
the newer value of material accumulation in the Mexican
setting. A nd in human history, the conflict between s p iri
tual and economic motives has always been an unequal one.
Mexican society of the colonial period, then, was not
feudal in the European sense of the word. Neither was it
modern. But it can be described as being in process of
amalgamation. The patron is being amalgamated, his behavior
60
and his attitudes being influenced and shaped by both tra
ditional and modern values. The amalgamation of paternal
benevolence with material gain produces a limited benevo
lence. The amalgamated patron could be benevolent and
paternal as long as his aristocratic pride, based on the
possession of a large amount of land and numerous peasants,
w as not threatened. H e w as interested in economics to the
point that his land produced a steady income adequate to
finance his life of luxury in som e modern enclave, be it
Mexico City or Paris. Yet he was not modern, for as long
as this economic requirement was met, he had littl e interest
in acquiring more wealth than he could use. Consequently he
was not concerned with such modern notions as efficient use
of land, scientific farming, and expanding production. The
amalgamation process combines the feudal and the modern; in
this example, both feudal benevolence and modern materialism
become limited in the process of amalgamation.
The patron was benevolent in that he provided a store
(tienda de raya) from which the peon could buy on cred it.
S om e patrones were willing to make large loans to peones
for special celebrations, like saints' days and marriages.
At the same time, by allowing the peon to run up a huge debt
which he could never hope to repay, and which was inherited
61
by his children, the patron was able to keep the peon tied
to him. The patron had introduced modern ideas of credit
and consumerism. The traditional peon had no experience
with and no protection from the resulting institutions until
after 1917.
The industrial revolution can also be viewed as having
a limited and superficial impact on Mexican society. A s is
the case with any great movement, there is no single expla
nation for the changes associated with the industrial revo
lution in Europej but one of the more important causes had
to be the modernization of agriculture. In England, the
com m on land of villages was "enclosed," and that land w as
then devoted to efficient, scientific cultivation of crops.
The increase in agricultural production, plus the fact that
enclosure of com m ons drove m any m en off the land and m ade
them available for factory labor, were prerequisites for the
introduction of the factory system.
In Mexico these prerequisites did not exist. The
hacienda system had, in effect, "enclosed" the com m on land
of the Indians and turned these lands into privately owned
estates. But the parallel ends there. Production and e ffi
ciency did not change significantly, so there was no great
urban migration. The peon was s t i l l bound to the land, only
62
by indebtedness rather than ancestral tie s .
In the c ities, the Western enclaves of Mexico, the
introduction of industrialism, science, and technology was
more obvious but s t i l l superficial. In England, the factory
system evolved in part from the development of an entrepre
neurial w ay of thinking. The concept of investment of sav
ings now for som e future profit created the capital needed
for industrial development in England and later on the Con
tinent. In the Mexican environment, no such concept was
forthcoming; instead, the small industrial e lite that did
develop was interested only in the most immediate return on
an investment.
In Europe, an age of political enlightenment coincided
with the ongoing industrial revolution. Thinkers such as
Locke, Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau conceptualized
new forms of government. All challenged the traditional
basis for p o litical power, that of Divine Right. The most
influential was Rousseau, w ho advanced a democratic theory
of p olitical power. The social contract had been m ade am ong
the general population and not between a ruler and the
ruled. Rousseau argued that the general body of the people
voluntarily associated themselves into a civil society,
adopted laws, and established institutions of government.
63
Such a contract could be changed at w ill, and if a govern
ment failed to satisfy the people, they in turn had a right
to change the government in any w ay they saw f it . This
democratic theory of sovereignty was incorporated into the
political systems of m uch of the Western world. It was also
brought to Mexico, but with vastly different re su lts.
A case in point is the Mexican struggle for indepen
dence . The famous grito of Father Hidalgo w as no doubt
influenced in part by the concept of democratic sovereignty;
but while the p riest's shout for independence calls for the
end of bad government, there is no indication of what is to
replace i t . Hidalgo's p o litical ideas were nebulous, in
cluding at one time the advocacy of a new monarchy.
Father Jose Maria Morelos' p o litical program was based
on the thought of the Enlightenment; but he and his program
were to meet an early death, examples of the inappropriate-
ness of imitating and applying foreign models to an alien
setting .
Although Mexico achieved independence, the subsequent
political system could hardly be compared to those of the
West. The imitation of foreign models by the Western en
claves of Mexico included the adoption of a constitution
that incorporated m any liberal ideals. Of course that
64
constitution was not functional in the Mexican environment.
Even when liberals gained control of the political system
and wrote another, more liberal constitution, the gap be
tween form and function was not closed. That constitution
of 1857 offers an ironic example of the fu tility of adopting
foreign models. Based on the modern Western notion that
church and state should be separated, a notion that was
valid for an increasingly secular society, the constitution
framed by Benito Juarez and his followers called for the end
of land ownership by corporations, including the Church.
W hen that enlightened provision was placed in a setting that
was non-Western, the results were strikingly different.
Instead of reforming the system of land ownership and creat
ing a landed peasantry, as was the case in the West, the
same concept applied to Mexico permitted the hacienda system
to become the more firmly entrenched form of land ownership
in Mexico.
After a half-century, the ideals of the Western p o liti
cal enlightenment had failed to take root in Mexico. The
federal system of government, which lasted from 1824 to the
next decade, failed to do for Mexico what it had done for
the United S tates. Instead of rising to an eminent position
in the world, as did her Anglo-Saxon neighbor, Mexico
65
suffered years of turmoil. A noted Mexican historian de
scribes the situation this way:
There was more than a hint of magic-making in the adop
tion of a federal formula . . . in 1824. Indeed, this
system of government so alien to the inhabitants and to
their traditions, was imposed on the country like a sort
of miraculous balm, warranted to cure a ll its troubles
and to bring progress and happiness
Nor did the period known as La Reforma bring progress
or happiness, or even reform. Western reformist thought,
when applied to Mexico, produced some curious resu lts. The
hacienda system, mentioned earlier, resulted in more people
being landless and fewer people owning a larger share of the
land. Additionally, the Land L aw s of 1883 and 1894 were
passed by the Diaz administration with the intent to bring
to Mexico a more equitable distribution of land. The laws
resulted instead in the concentration of land into ever
fewer hands, and the hacienda system flourished as never
before. The spiritual aspect of land and labor, the machete
and the ox, were rooted in Mexican history, while competi
tion, labor for profit, and farming with machines were not.
4
Edm undo O'Gorman, "Introduction to Justo Sierra," in
The P olitical Evolution of the Mexican People, tran s.
Charles Ramsdell (Austin: Univ. of Texas Press, 1969), p. xi.
66
After the period known as La Reforma Mexico endured
the longest dictatorship of her history, that of Porfirio
Diaz (1876-1910). The Diaz regime, favoring the Western
ideal of p o litical democracy in theory, created a Western-
style p o litical party for Mexico. The main point is that
the Union Liberal was created, i t did not evolve, and its
existence did not m ake democracy a reality for very m any
Mexicans. The Union Liberal was not very m uch of a union,
nor was it very liberal. It merely provided a fagade for
the personal rule of the dictator. Pan o palo was rooted in
Mexican history* p o litical autonomy w as not. The Diaz
facade represents the process of amalgamation, which will
be finalized after 1910.
The era of Porfirio Diaz can certainly be associated
with the bringing of industrialization, science, and tech
nology to Mexico. The inner circle of advisors around the
dictator even called themselves cientificos, and they spear
headed the drive to Westernize the Mexican nation. O f
course the imposition of Western technology upon Mexico
would not produce the same results as it did in a society
within which i t had evolved.
Mexico was indeed thrown open to capitalism under Diaz,
but what happened in England from 1760 to 182 0 is only
67
superficially similar to what happened in Mexico a century
later. The cientificos themselves became a group of over
privileged monopoly cap italists. The need for capital led
to foreign investments and eventually to foreign domination
of the Mexican economy. Agriculture, instead of being a
base upon which industrialization could proceed, w as neg
lected to the point where production actually declined, and
the rural areas of the country were more feudal than ever.
The Mexican labor movement could use as a model the
idea of organization for self-protection and for increased
economic benefits. But Mexico w as in an early stage of
industrialization, a stage that is historically exploitative
and abusive to the worker. Mexican labor w as kept cheap and
unprotected by the p o litical regime. O ne of the most note
worthy accomplishments of the Diaz regime was the construc
tion of thousands of miles of railroad. In the Western
world, such large projects occurred at a time when labor w as
organized; in Mexico, the railroad laborer, as well as work
ers throughout the nation, worked for a pittance without
question and was denied the right to organize in most areas
of the nation until after 1910. The labor practices used
to build Mexico's modern ra il system evolved from the
68
5
repartimiento, not from the industrial revolution. It
would not be until after 1910 that the Mexican masses would
become conscious of the rights of labor associated with the
industrial revolution.
Naissance, Ignition, Revolt
The Western watersheds described above certainly had
an impact on Mexican society* but the central point of this
brief description has been that the watersheds did not pro
duce in Mexico that which the Western mind associates with
them. This is explained by the fact that the numerous
sociological innovations associated with the watersheds did
not evolve from Mexican history; rather, they were adopted
by the Western enclaves and then imposed upon the non-West
of Mexico.
If the social changes cannot be described in terms of
Western history, the question becomes : what did the a t
tempted imitation of these changes produce in Mexico? The
concept of the amalgamated culture is being employed here to
provide some insight into that question. W hen sociological
5
Literally the "apportionment," a Spanish device for
exploiting Indian labor. A Spaniard was apportioned a num
ber of Indians for labor in mines, on plantations, or in the
building of roads or churches.
69
innovations associated with the Renaissance cam e into con
tact with a Mexico that basically resembled feudal Europe,
the process of amalgamation began. It proved to be a long
and painful process, one in which mutual contact caused
changes in both cultures. This interaction and change m ake
Western labels inappropriate, and for that reason som e new
labels are being suggested here. Renaissance, for example,
describes the rebirth of a long-dormant mother culture. In
Mexico, the term would have to refer not to Greece or R om e,
but to the M aya and the Teotihuacanos. Perhaps what w as
introduced through the Western enclaves of Mexico can be
described with the term "naissance," which implies a birth,
an origination of growth. The naissance is the beginning of
the process of amalgamation in Mexicoj the result of the
process, the amalgam, will appear after the Revolution of
1910.
Similarly, the p olitical Enlightenment of eighteenth-
century Europe did not produce any dramatic innovations in
p olitical doctrine when transferred to the Mexican scene.
A s discussed earlier, enlightened, liberal regimes were not
able to bring lasting and significant change to Mexico.
Instead of Enlightenment, perhaps such innovations as those
associated with La Reforma can be described more aptly with
70
the term "political ignition." Ignition is a coming to
light, a kindling of a light that will com e later. The
p o litical liberals, themselves enlightened in European
terms, provided a political ignition for Mexico. Again, the
light, the amalgam, will com e after 1910.
The final watershed discussed earlier, the industrial
revolution, again is semantically appropriate for the W est
but not for Mexico. The sociological changes associated
with the industrial revolution were indeed profound in the
West. O n that basis the word "revolution" is justified.
In Mexico, however, the coming of industrialization, sci
ence, and technology were not revolutionary in that they
did not cause radical and pervasive changes in society.
Perhaps i t would be more accurate to label what occurred in
Mexico under Porfirio Diaz an "industrial re v o lt," rather
than revolution. Revolt connotes a change within a struc
ture, not the change of the structure its e lf. W hat occurred
in Porfirian Mexico is more accurately described as a re
volt, in that the basic structure of society did not change.
The new urban capitalists challenged the rural e lite for
social, economic, and p o litical domination of the country]
but that represents a change within the e lite , not a com
plete displacement of one class by a new, "revolutionary"
71
class. Again, revolution is appropriate only after 1910,
and then it will be capitalized.
The naissance, the p o litical ignition, and the indus
tria l revolt, then, are meant to describe the process of
amalgamation between Western watersheds and the Mexican
setting. The watersheds for Mexico— that is, a true ren
aissance, p o litical enlightenment, and industrial revolution
— will occur in the twentieth century. The Revolution is
the mercury that makes amalgamation possible. The Mexican
amalgam emerges after 1910, because the Revolution marks the
replacement of imposition with evolution, of adoption with
adaptation. In that decade of violence an intimate mixture
of West and non-West was forged.
In subsequent chapters this amalgamated culture w ill be
described on the basis of the analysis of the novels of
Mariano Azuela. The central problem is p o litical alienation
in the amalgamated culture of Mexico. Since political
alienation has been viewed as a Western problem linked with
sociological changes stemming from the Renaissance, the
expectation would be, if one accepts the interpretation of
Mexican history given above, that p o litical alienation will
be significant only in the Western enclaves of pre
revolutionary Mexico. The interesting question arises:
what happens, in terms of political alienation, to the
society that experiences a renaissance, an industrial revo
lution, a p o litical Enlightenment, and the beginnings of a
mass society and culture, a ll within the span of one life
time? If Western m an has become increasingly alienated
because he could not adapt to his changing environment
through five centuries, what has happened to the individual
w ho experiences similar changes within sixty years? Also,
what happens to the Western concept of alienation when it
is applied to a society that is an amalgam, a mixture of the
modern with the traditional?
Such problems w ill be discussed in subsequent chapters.
The historical background for the discussion, as presented
above, can be summarized as follows: with the European
conquest of Mexico began a long process of amalgamation, a
mixture of European and Mexican cultures. Features of
Western civilization were continuously introduced to Mexico,
but they did not become features of Mexican civ ilizatio n •
instead, they initiated an amalgamation process. For exam
ple, such Western watersheds as the Renaissance, the En
lightenment, and the industrial revolution became part of
this process; and in so doing they became dissimilar to
their Western counterparts. W hat was for the W est a
watershed became for Mexico a part of the amalgamation
process, and to distinguish between watershed and process
different labels were suggested. Renaissance became nais
sance, the beginning of something newj Enlightenment became
ignition, the kindling of a light that w ill com e la te r; and
industrial revolution became a revolt, a change within a
structure.
C H A P T E R IV
M E X IC A N N A R R A T IV E P R O S E B E F O R E A Z U E L A
The Novel as a Middle-Class Genre
S om e one hundred years before the publication of
Mariano Azuela's firs t prose, the firs t Mexican (and Latin
American) novel w as written. Jose Joaquin Fernandez de
Lizardi's El periquillo sarniento (The Itching Parrot),
written in 1816, was a picaresque tale concerned mostly with
social criticism .
Remembering that Spain had a proud tradition in the
novel and that Colonial Mexico contributed several notable
figures to Hispanic literature, the reader will be surprised
that the firs t Mexican novel is so late in appearing.
Equally surprising is the fact that, once the novel was
introduced to Mexico, there was no immediate follow-up to
this literary form by other authors. Instead, the genre
remained neglected for three decades, until the appearance
of Manuel Payno's El fisto l del diablo (The Devil's
74
75
Stickpin) . A nd the rest of the nineteenth century produced
no more than a handful of novelists of enduring value.
W h y was the novel form so late in coming to Mexico, and
when i t did come, w hy were there no follow-up novels? N o
doubt m any factors contributed to the lack of, and then the
weakness of, the novel in Mexico. For one thing, the physi
cal and material problems facing the colonial writer were
formidable in themselves. The fa c ilitie s for publishing
were scarce, and the reading "public" was limited to a small
e lite . The writer also had to contend with the royal cen-
sor, w ho was located thousands of miles and, perhaps more
frustrating, several years away.
B y placing the evolution of the novel within the h is
torical framework developed in the previous section, further
explanations for the weakness of the novel in Mexico can be
offered. In Western literature the novel firs t appeared as
a form of opposition, of rebellion, on the part of the
writer against the rigidity of social patterns . Of course
this rigidity became evident only when there was an a lte r
native set of social patterns to choose from. In the West,
these sociological changes were related to the Renaissance
and the other watersheds described earlier. In the resu lt
ing clash between traditional and modern values, the
76
literary a rtis t was am ong the firs t to represent the emerg
ing social groups.
The new sociological situation required a new literary
form in order to respond to a new kind of audience. The new
audience was the middle class, and in the novel they were
able to see themselves, their ow n wishes and fears. The
new, or novel, literary form was called the novel. The
problem of differentiating the novel from other prose forms
has always been a d ifficu lt one; in fact, the novel has been
referred to as an entity without a definition. In very
general terms, it can be defined as a fictitious prose
narrative of some length, containing a plot, an idea or
theme which the plot is designed to illu stra te , and an
overriding interest in characterization.
The historical framework for this study can add a
dimension to a definition of the novel. It is a middle-
class genre, emerging in response to a new potential audi
ence that was its e lf created by social, economic, and
p o litical changes. Thus the novel could not have been
written in a pre-Renaissance society. Written by and for
the middle class, the novel gained popularity as the middle-
class audience expanded. In other words, the popularity of
the novel over other literary forms coincided with the
77
modernization of the society for which it was written.
In this w ay both the novel and alienation are linked to
societal changes in Europe, and in turn they are linked to
each other. Novelists have from the firs t used the genre to
probe and criticize the problems, beliefs, and attitudes of
their societies, and they have done so from the perspective
of the middle class.
Earlier it w as argued that alienation is linked to
modernization, and therefore it has become an ever-greater
problem for Western civilization during the past five cen
turies; indeed, a case has been m ade by more than one writer
that it is the problem of modern society. If this is true,
the escalation of alienation through the last five centuries
must have been recorded by Western novelists. In fact, it
is hard to imagine a novel being written in a society that
did not reflect alienation, for dissociation from self and
society is the root problem for modern societies. If the
personages in a prose narrative were not in som e w ay in
fluenced by something so basic to their society, that work
would violate the definition of a novel given above. The
true novelist develops plot and character through a selec
tion of events; and he chooses events, not exclusively be
cause they are unusual or exciting, but in part because of
78
the w ay they influence the people he has created. If a
fictitio us narrative does not portray the influence of per
son and environment on each other, it should not be consid
ered a novel; a novelist portrays that interaction* and in
so doing he deals with the process and the feeling of alien
ation through plot and characterization.
B y linking the novel to the Western modernization
process, and consequently to alienation, the weakness of
the nineteenth-century Mexican novel can be understood. The
fact that a novel appeared at all can be attributed to the
existence of Western enclaves. Fernandez de Lizardi and his
novel pertained to such an enclave, but a post-Renaissance
literary form had no place outside the enclaves of Mexico.
It should be added that the novel barely found a place
within the enclave, and that its classification as a novel
is questionable. El periquillo w as published during a per
iod of p o litical confusion and transition for Spanish and
Mexican authorities; and on the second point, it closely
resembles a pre-Renaissance adventure story that lacks
characterization.
Whether the publication of El periquillo was a fluke
attributed to the p o litical instability of the moment, and
whether the work is classified correctly as to its genre
79
are arguments of secondary importance to this study. Here
El periquillo represents a new type of literature in Mexico.
Perhaps it is not from Mexico or for Mexico, sociologically
speaking. But for this study it represents the beginning of
the amalgamation process that will eventually lead to a
truly Mexican novel— that is, to a genre that is truly novel
and truly Mexican.
The Amalgamation of the Mexican Novel
Jose Joaquin Fernandez de Lizardi published El peri
quillo sarniento during the Mexican struggle for independ
ence . Spanish power was being challenged by Mexicans, and
the mother country herself was in a state of p olitical tu r
moil. Fernandez de Lizardi seized upon this situation to
sneak his work past the censors. His real motive was not to
write a novel, but to get before the public his reformist
notions about social conditions, education, and the p o liti
cal evils that were inflicted upon Mexico.^ The result is
a work of som e 1,000 pages, quite a few hundred pages of
which are devoted to the reproduction of nearly a ll of
A c cording to Walter M . Langford in The Mexican Novel
C om es of A ge (Notre D am e, Ind.: Univ. of Notre D am e Press,
1971), pp. 4-5.
80
Fernandez de Lizardi's p o litical pamphleteering. At the
very least, this firs t "novel" comes close to being a series
of thinly disguised political essays.
That firs t novel can be viewed as the literary counter
part of Mexico's struggle for independence. Fathers Hidalgo
and Morelos had rocked traditional Mexico by raising armies
in the nam e of Western p o litical and social ideals. Fer
nandez de Lizardi's creation advocated those same ideals.
But the two rebellious priests and the creative a rtis t were
following Western models; their sociological and literary
concepts were a rtific a lly placed in the Mexican environment,
and they failed to take root in that in fertile so il. It
will be more than a century before Mexico experiences the
sociological changes that are the prerequisites for the
novel.
The imitation of Western models in literature was no
more successful than the imitation of p olitical models; and
one fundamental reason for this is being offered here.
Earlier, the development of the novel and the development of
democratic p olitical ideals were related to corresponding
sociological changes. Both were viewed as middle-class
phenomena. In France and in most of Europe, the middle
sector had established an identity as a class by the
8 1
2
nineteenth century. For example, the French middle class
began to assert its e lf p olitically with the French Revolu
tion. At the same time, French novelists more and more
often were m en from the middle class w ho wrote about their
class. Quite logically, their work would appeal to the
increasingly lite ra te middle sector of society.
In contrast, the middle sector of nineteenth-century
Mexican society w as not only numerically small, but aspired
3
to aristocratic values. The Mexican literary a rtists w ho
turned to the novel were overwhelmingly upper class in back
ground. To be sure, they were predominantly liberal in
outlook and they wrote novels that were sympathetic to the
plight of the middle and lower classes; but their novels
were written from the perspective of the upper class, and
they were purchased and read by other wealthy id e a lists.
In this sense the novel of nineteenth-century Mexico
contradicted an essential quality of the genre as it devel
oped in the West. The Western novel developed and
2
According to William H. McNeill m History of Western
Civilization (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1969), pp.
495-513.
3
Charles Wagley, The Latin American Tradition (N ew
York: Columbia Univ. Press, 1968).
82
flourished as a non-elitist genre, with the novelist being
able to bridge the gap between the popular elements of
4
society and what has been called the l it e r a t i . O n the
other hand, Mexican novelists usually cam e from aristocratic
backgrounds, and they usually moralized and preached about
the social ills of Mexico. This characteristic appealed to
other highborn idealists, but i t weakened the aesthetic
quality of their prose.
Earlier, som e new labels were suggested to describe
sociopolitical developments in nineteenth-century Mexico.
Independence, for example, was seen as a "naissance," an
origination of growth. In the same sense, El periquillo can
be seen as the naissance for the Mexican novel. Mexico had
a novel in the same way that it was a constitutional repub
lic . In both cases, these Western imitations were super
ficial and ineffective; but they do represent a beginning,
an introduction of new elements into the amalgamation proc
ess .
The period of La Reforma, while philosophically based
on the French Enlightenment, brought to Mexico few reforms
4
A term used by Rxggs, pp. 149-156, to descrxbe the
upper-class product of an e litis t educational system.
83
in practice. For this reason, the period has been described
as one of "political ignition, 1 1 a kindling of a light that
will com e later. The literary parallel of the Reform was
Romanticism. Romanticism as a literary term describes an
attitude toward life which tends to produce literature
marked by individualism and revolt against tradition. Quite
naturally, Mexican writers of the period imitated the French
Romantic style in literature, just as the reformers imitated
the French p o litical style.
These literary romantics were captivated by the ideal
istic goals of the Mexican liberals w ho sought to organize
the country according to their democratic, cap italistic
design. The result w as the publication of a large number
of Romantic novels during the 1860s, inspired by the W ar of
the Reform and the French Intervention.
While this epic period of Mexican history served to
"ignite" novelistic production, the final products were som e
5
of the worst novels written in Mexico. They did serve,
however, as kindling in the amalgamation process of the
Mexican novel. The one nam e that stands out am ong the
5
A m o ng the m any critics w ho express the same opinion is
John S. Brushwood, Mexico in Its Novel (Austin: Univ. of
Texas Press, 1966), p. 82.
84
Mexican Romantics is that of Ignacio Manuel Altamirano.
Altamirano is an especially interesting figure for
consideration within the framework of this study. H e was
born of "pure1 1 Indian ancestry and lived until the age of
fourteen in a small Indian pueblo. Showing academic b r il
liance * he was sent to Mexico to finish his education. H e
fought with the Liberals against the Conservatives and then
against the French* and after the final Liberal victory he
became the maestro of his literary generation. B y precept
and example he showed the younger generation of Mexican
writers the value of local customs* of village types* and
of the stirring events of their ow n times as literary mate
ria l. H e had the vision to see that the design for reform
included literature as one part of the national existence
(Brushwood* p. 82).
Altamirano thought of himself as a guide* and he tried
to explain the characteristics that a national literature
should have. H e felt the novelist's view should include the
whole of society and should enable him to re-create the
people he saw and the physical setting in which he saw them
(Brushwood* p. 94).
French and Mexican Romantics did write about the people
and the setting they saw. But most Mexican Romantics were
seeing their society from the vantage point of an e litis t
enclave. They could imitate the French Romantics in style,
but not in perspective. Altamirano's humble origin and
childhood could have given him an advantage of perspective
over his peers and his pupils. His characterizations and
descriptions are superior to those of his peers, and his
Clemencia (1869) is considered to be the best Mexican novel
of the century (Brushwood,, p. 94) .
The relationship between personal background and novel-
istic success suggested in the case of Altamirano can be
reinforced with other literary figures; and the same concept
can be applied to p o litical leaders as well. The political
parallel to Altamirano, Benito Juarez, serves as a case in
point. In fact, the sim ilarities in the backgrounds and the
deeds of these two giants are startlin g . Both were of hum
ble Indian background but managed to reach Western enclaves
through academic b rillian ce; both led movements to bring
features of Western society to Mexico; although Juarez
failed to mold Mexico into a p olitical democracy and Alta
mirano's leadership did not result in a flourishing national
literatu re, both helped lay foundations for eventual success
in th eir respective fields. It is reasonable to assume that
the perspective gained from their humble origins contributed
86
to their greatness as precursors of the middle-class inno
vations of democracy and the novel in Mexico.
The correlation between status at birth and insight
into what eventually will emerge as important features of
middle-class society can be seen in the individuals previ
ously discussed. The mestizo priest Jose Maria Morelos had
a sociopolitical program that was far in advance of his
time, and far more enlightened than that of the criollo
Hidalgo, during the struggle for independence; and Fernandez
de Lizardi, born of a middle-class family in Mexico City and
whose formal education w as incomplete, represented a re
freshing, ironic, popular type of writing which w as far
removed from the earlier and more tedious literature of
colonial times. It would seem to be more than coincidence
that the outstanding figures in the evolution of political
democracy and of the novel, from the early nineteenth to the
mid-twentieth century, have personal backgrounds that are
more popular than aristo cratic. This idea will be developed
in another section.
A s for Altamirano's literary production, i t is best
viewed as the ignition, the kindling for the twentieth-
century novel. Clemencia is worth reading today, but does
not measure up as a great novel. The story is set in
Guadalajara at the time of the French Intervention, and
Altamirano provides a good background of different p olitical
affiliatio ns, of the human tendency to judge people by their
appearance more than their essence, and of the social life
of the city. Although the novel has an authentic ring to
it, the Romantic melancholy and suffering are heavy-handed.
The author uses his novel to attack military conscription
and to argue for a more practical education and for a clergy
that is more concerned with the temporal welfare of their
people .
M any other writers of this period used the novel to
expound their ideas on social reform, but none of them
understood the Mexico that Altamirano knew. Their views of
society and their characters lack authenticity; and of the
large number of novels published during the Romantic period,
very few are of any interest today.
The ideals of the Reform were gradually abandoned be
cause of their impracticability in the Mexican setting; and
as the force of the Reform impulse diminished, so did lite r
ary Romanticism. Politically, the next period of Mexican
history belongs to Porfirio Diaz. In literatu re, Romantic
exaggeration gives w ay to a more objective view of reality .
While the period of the Reform and literary Romanticism
88
complemented one another, it is the literary movement known
as Realism that corresponds to the Diaz regime.
The p olitical leaders of the Diaz regime took the
idealism, sensitivity, and individual freedom out of the
p o litical fabric of the nation; and the novelists of the
period stressed objective reporting of visible reality . The
result in governance was the creation of a political e lite
w ho "knew what was best" for the popular sectors of the
nation. The result in literature was the creation of an
a rtis tic e lite w ho had their ow n vision of what was best for
those popular sectors . The unfortunate thing is that nobody
asked the popular sectors, a situation which usually assures
the failure of e litis ts , p o litical, literary, or otherwise.
The p olitical leadership of Mexico during this period
promoted a fantastic economic growth that compares super
ficially with the industrial revolution in the West; how
ever, the idea was developed earlier that what happened in
Mexico from the 1880s to 1910 is better conceptualized as an
industrial "revolt." Revolt connotes a change within a
structure, not the change of the structure its e lf. The
economic growth under Diaz resulted in the development of an
urban, industrial e lite w ho lived in elegance in the Western
enclaves of Mexico. But the economic growth w as not
89
revolutionary, because the popular sectors did not share in
this prosperity.
Diaz was able to rule for a long time because he put
forward a practical program that reconciled to som e extent
the two contending groups in Mexico. T o the conservatives,
Diaz offered peace, stab ility , and the perpetuation of the
remaining colonial institu tions; to the liberals, Diaz rep
resented the assurance of progress through capitalism.^ A n d
to the popular sectors, Diaz offered pan o palo, on the
premise that anyone w ho did not participate in and benefit
from the economic miracle was inherently inferior or lazy.
The literary figures of the Diaz era, being almost
exclusively from the upper class, were enjoying the benefits
of this industrial revolt; so i t is understandable that they
did not advocate the overthrow of a system that w as so bene
fic ia l to those w ho belonged to the "establishment." The
Mexican novelists, however, were following the lead of the
French Realists in depicting life with som e degree of objec
tiv ity . The visible reality of Mexico during this period
demanded protest on the part of a conscientious novelist,
6
Stanley Ross, Francisco I. Madero: Apostle of Mexican
Democracy (N ew York: Columbia Univ. Press, 1955).
90
and m any did indeed oppose the Diaz regime in their works -
But their protest w as not revolutionary. Instead, they
tended to protest the evil individuals w ho exploited the
poor and the powerless. The abuses they detailed were
viewed as cases of individual immorality, and they generally
concurred with the regime's philosophy that the individual
was responsible for his ow n destiny. Their protests were
not revolutionary; in fact, there is not one advocation of
7
revolution m novels appearing from the 1880s through 1910.
Their protests can be seen as a literary "revolt," an attack
upon individuals w ho abuse the system, but not an attack on
the system its e lf.
The best of these novelists showed talent in their
works, just as the best of Diaz' advisors were competent in
their fields. In spite of their respective talents, neither
novelists nor p olitical leaders of the Diaz era represent
the amalgamated Mexico. W hat w as written w as not truly
Mexican, because the writers were not associated with the
popular sectors; nor was it "novel" by the definition used
earlier, because the novel has to challenge the establish
ment. The novelists of this period did contribute, however,
'According to Brushwood, p. 116.
91
to the amalgamation process. They protested against the
excesses of elitism , if not against elitism its e lf. They
initiated a literary "revolt," not a revolution; they wanted
to correct the social ills of their country while at the
same time preserving the stab ility of the Pax Porfiriana.
They were, in short, "establishment novelists."
Despite their literary talent, these establishment
novelists were not successful in developing the Mexican
novel. A novel is a revolutionary form of literature be
cause it represents a newly emerging class. The establish
ment novelists were reformers, but their perspective ema
nated from the e lite . A s e litis ts , they did not represent
a challenge to the position of the upper class; instead they
aimed to reform the paternalism of the e lite . They wanted
the e lite to respond to a sense of obligation, to the pater
nal benevolence of a feudal society. This represents a
turning back, not a revolutionary push forward.
A s the Reform is associated with literary Romanticism,
so can the Diaz era be associated with Realism. For the
establishment novelists, the abandonment of the ideals of
the Reform le ft them with an unobstructed view of Mexican
reality . Again following the lead of the French, Mexican
novelists began to depict life with som e degree of
92
objectivity instead of as the writer wished it to be. In
general, Mexican writers accepted French Realism and Natu
ralism, but with som e reservations. Perhaps the most
important of these was their reluctance to eliminate a
spiritual element to life, which they considered an essen-
g
tia l part of Mexican reality.
While social conditions in Porfirian Mexico demanded,
and got, protests from novelists, their e litis t perspective
prevented them from advocating revolution. Instead, most
writers took the position that social improvement depended
on individual improvement. The assumption that the poor
would stop being poor when they wanted to is a theme in Jose
Lopez Portillo y Rojas' Nieves (1882). In Arcadio Zen-
te lla 's Perico (1885) the author describes a reality in
which there is a to tal lack of regard for the rights of
peones by the hacendado classj but Zentella is protesting
the abuse of the system, not the system its e lf. In other
words, he calls for benevolence from the patron, not for an
end to the land tenure system that creates peonage. Perico
exemplifies the patronizing, paternal concern of the estab
lishment novelists for the lower classes of Mexico.
g
In the opinion of Brushwood, p. 128.
93
Emilio Rabasa was one of the most original and least
imitative of the establishment novelists. H e is less in
clined toward explanatory digress ions, which makes him more
like the French Realists than most of his peers; but his
works, especially his four novels published as Novelas
mexicanas in 1887-88, do not offer a re-creation of visible
reality . Instead, Rabasa chose to select the details he
desired in order to disto rt reality . Rabasa's works are of
some interest today because he dealt with the middle class,
whereas his peers focused on the top and the bottom of
Mexican society. But the novelist himself w as not from the
middle class, and his middle-class characters do not iden
tify with that class. For example, when middle-class char
acters suffer at the hands of the wealthy, their reaction is
envy rather than resentment. Their values are as e litis t as
those of their tormentors, and only their lack of resources
prevents them from becoming tormentors themselves.
Another Realist, Heriberto Frias, facilitated the amal
gamation process by dealing with an aspect of Mexican soci
ety that up to then had not received m uch attention. The
novel Tomochic (1895) describes the crushing of an Indian
rebellion, an actual event in which the author participated
as a junior officer. The historical event involved a small
Indian village and its inhabitants, w ho were systematically-
destroyed by Diaz' troops for defying federal authority.
Frias' novelized report of the campaign was realistic
enough to result in his facing charges by the government of
revealing military secrets. But in a w ay the novel goes
deeper than the superficial military oppression. Frias does
describe the military aspect of the campaign with obvious
concern for the success of the mission; but he makes no
attempt to hide the ruthlessness of the federates w ho
finally go from house to house murdering the inhabitants of
the town. While he was careful to re-create the feeling
within the army toward the campaign, he also portrayed the
ethos of the tomochitecos. Beneath the praise for the fed
eral forces can be seen the resentment of the inhabitants of
the area, w ho consider the soldiers to be an invading force.
In this intuition Frias is foreshadowing the Revolution,
where novelists will deal with similar attitudes toward
federal authority. Frias had helped get the novel out of
the enclaves, and his intuition enabled him to sense som e of
the attitudes held by people in the hinterlands toward that
enclave.
After the turn of the century, the vaunted "Peace and
Order" of the Diaz regime became less peaceful and less
95
orderly. But as discontent, strikes, and government sup
pression increased, the novels of the period continued to
stress the hope of man's individual improvement. Although
the establishment novelists continued to point out the
social ills of the country, novelists s t i l l saw the problem
as one of evil men, not as one of an exploitative system.
Their solutions to the Mexican nation's problems lay in
returning to morality, in stepping backward to more trad i
tional customs. The idea that the individual must change in
order to end the uncertainty of the times was logical from
the upper-class, liberal point of view. Having a stake in
the established order, these novelists could not advocate
the overthrow of that order; and their adherence to the
nineteenth-century liberal notion of individual freedom and
responsibility gave them a convenient explanation and a
solution for the ills of the country.
The novels written from that e litis t perspective are
lightly regarded today. O f the novelists w ho wrote during
the firs t decade of this century, only the works of Federico
G am boa have withstood the test of time, and this novelist's
prominence serves to support the contention that the novel
is a middle-class genre. G am boa was born of a wealthy fam
ily in Mexico City, but very early in his life the family
96
suffered economic collapse and Gamboa's formative years were
filled with considerable hardship. It is plausible that the
experience of becoming a self-made m an gave G am boa a middle-
class perspective, or at the very least a less e litis t a t t i
tude toward life than his peers.
Gamboa's two best novels, Suprema ley (1896) and Santa
(1903), deal with the middle class and the lower class re
spectively. A nd while m any writers dealt with popular ele
ments in their works during the Diaz period, Gamboa's are
the only ones to win lasting c ritic a l acclaim.
In Suprema ley, G am boa offers a detailed description of
the court system of Mexico. His protagonist is an unimpor
tant clerk through w h o m one can see the drab, dull, dis
honest life of the middle-class urbanite. Gamboa's charac
terization is authentic because he has experienced that
middle-class existence from within, not from above.
In Santa, G am boa deals with the urban lower class
through the life of a young prostitute. Santa, despite her
profession, basically is decent, having been pushed into her
trade by the rigid values of her family. These are middle-
class values, and again G am boa had an advantage over his
peers .
The most interesting aspect of the novel Santa in
97
relation to this study is found in Gamboa's suggestion that
Mexican society is in need of change. The work is by no
means an open call to revolution; but instead of accounting
for Santa's unfortunate circumstance by individual blame,
G am boa suggests that Santa's w ill power and basic decency
were not enough to prevent her demise. Her condition is
attributed to sociological injustice as m uch as to any lack
of individual morality. This hint that social change would
be desirable falls short of being revolutionary; but Gam boa,
aided by a personal background that provided him with the
creative intuition to characterize the middle sectors with
authenticity, facilitated the amalgamation process.
O ne hundred years after the exploits of Father Hidalgo
and Fernandez de Lizardi, the p o litical counterpart of the
establishment novelist m ade a triumphant entry into Mexico
City. A s Francisco I. Madero, the "Apostle of Democracy,"
and his wife rode into the capital in an open carriage, they
were greeted by shouts of "viva Madero" and "viva la demo-
cracia" from the multitude that lined the Paseo de la Re-
forma. A peasant, noticing that his compatriot was particu
larly enthusiastic in his vocal support of the procession,
was compelled to inquire about the nature of this "democra-
cia" that was receiving so m any "vivas." The compatriot
98
indicated with a shrug that he was not sure, but that "la
democracia" must be the lady with Sr. Madero.
This story, whether factual or not, serves to illu s
trate Mexico's dilemma in 1910. She had passed through a
century of evolution, during which time her political and
literary leaders had tried to imitate and to impose upon
Mexico a variety of Western forms. These impositions in
cluded the p o litical idea of popular sovereignty and the
novel as a literary genre.
Neither p o litical nor literary forms could be imitated
successfully because Mexico lacked a sociological pre
requisite from which those forms evolved in the West: pop
ular sovereignty and the novel must evolve from a middle
sector that is large enough and strong enough to have a
class consciousness and to produce national leaders. Nei
ther form can be imposed by the upper classj they must
evolve from within the middle class.
Francisco Madero was to be the last imitator. H e was a
landed aristocrat w ho had lived and studied in Washington,
D.C., in Paris, and in Berkeley. W hen he became president,
he began governing Mexico as if i t were France\ and in so
doing, he unleashed forces that no one could control. Popu
lar elements of Mexican society were thrust into the role of
99
political participants for the firs t time, but Mexico lacked
the institutions that could handle such participation. A n
example was the independent, popularly elected congress that
w as created under Madero. Similar institutions evolved
naturally and became effective channels for popular p a rtic i
pation in Western societies. The Mexican imitation became
obstreperous and made demands that could not be met within
the existing framework of Mexican society.
The press provides another example of the difficulty in
imitating what had evolved in Western societies. The Mexi
can press was decreed to be free for the firs t time by
Madero. This freedom and independence were not accepted by
the traditional power structure; and the press its e lf, free
for the firs t time, lacked the edito rial responsibility that
comes when freedom evolves over a long period of time. The
Mexican press became increasingly virulent in their attacks
on the regime, with journalists seemingly trying to outdo
one another in their personal, vicious diatribes against
Madero.
In short, Mexico was not France, and she could not be
governed like France. Popular sovereignty in governance is
not a cure for social and p o litical ills ; it is the result
of a social, economic, and p olitical evolution that had not
100
occurred in Mexico. Madero and his liberal predecessors
tried to impose democracy, from their upper-class, paternal
perspective, upon the popular sectors of society. In e f
fect, they were advocating a paternal type of popular sov
ereignty, and their great difficulty can be seen in this
term: they were attempting to combine the contradictory
concepts of paternalism and equalitarianism.
G am boa and his predecessors were in a parallel situa
tion. A s p o litical leaders had attempted to reproduce
Western p o litical institutions, Mexican writers looked to
the West for literary inspiration. Specifically, they
looked to France: the Spanish tradition had been rejected
at the time of independence; the United States could not be
imitated because of the differences in language and in cul
ture; and the Indian heritage was rejected on the basis of
its alleged inferiority, especially during the Diaz era.
Overwhelmingly from the upper class, the Mexican w rit
ers imitated the novels of French romanticists, realists,
and naturalists, but their perspective and their environment
were vastly different. They were establishment novelists,
and their difficulty can be seen in the term used to de
scribe them also. "Establishment" and "novel" are contra
dictory concepts. French novelists were writing about
101
popular elements of French society from a perspective that
was within that segment of society. In addition, French
popular sectors had established an identity and a con
sciousness; and the French novelists bridged the gap between
intellectuals and popular elements with their a rt. The
novel evolved as a form with which to challenge the estab
lishment . The Mexican imitations were written from a d if
ferent perspective, and they appealed to a different class.
The resulting establishment novelist tended to moralize and
to preach about the ills of his country in a w ay that would
appeal to his fellow liberal e litis ts .
The establishment novel was not an authentic Mexican
novel in the same way that Madero's government was not demo
cratic. Democracy must be earned from within, not imposed
from above; the novel must be written by and for a new
social group to be "novel."
Perhaps the two peasants w ho decided that "la democra-
cia" was the lady accompanying the Apostle of Democracy
symbolize Mexico's dilemma in 1911. Whether well or poorly
understood, the Apostle's lady proved to be seductive. She
attracted m en w ho would shape Mexico's future. But she was
a European lady by birth, and she would have to amalgamate
herself to her new environment in order to survive. The two
102
peasants would have to understand her on their ow n terms and
within their ow n frame of reference, and she would have to
adapt herself to other groups as well.
The Mexican Revolution is such an important, a ll-
encompassing watershed in Mexican history that it has been
described in countless ways. Not to the exclusion of, but
in addition to, the numerous interpretations of the Revolu
tion, that monumental event is depicted here as producing
the amalgamation of Western and native forms. The nine
teenth century saw new political and literary forms intro
duced in Mexico. Because of Mexico's unique sociological
situation, these new forms were imitated in Western en
claves, but they contradicted existing forms of Mexican
society. The amalgamation of such forms required tremen
dous, violent energy. The Revolution is the manifestation
of the force that was needed to produce a permanent weld.
The novel is just one of the forms that had to become
amalgamated with a different environment. The amalgamated
novelist must be from and write for a new social group. The
Revolution provided a meshing of a ll the necessary socio
logical variables. The m an w ho provided the creative talent
was Mariano Azuela.
CHAPTER V
A Z U E L A A N D T H E E M E R G E N C E O F T H E
M E X IC A N N O V E L
The Formative Years
Mariano Azuela*s great contribution to Mexican lite ra
ture is the Mexican novel. The century of prose writing
that preceded the works of Azuela was neither Mexican nor
novel when viewed through the perspective developed in the
preliminary chapters of this investigation^ and it is the
intent of this chapter to demonstrate that Azuela's works
are the firs t to represent the emerging Mexican society.
Mariano Azuela differed from his literary predecessors
in that he was connected to the emerging middle class in
tellectually ^ sp iritu ally , and physically, and this connec
tion began with the circumstances of his b irth . Azuela's
father was a middle-class entrepreneur^ an independent gro
cer w ho established himself by borrowing several hundred
pesos from a more prosperous relative. The store was
103
104
successful to the point that the family acquired land for
their ow n store in Lagos de Moreno, Jalisco, and a small
farm not far from that town. Thus Mariano Azuela was born
into a thoroughly middle-class setting on the firs t day of
1873.1
Azuela's childhood was spent helping in the store and
attending elementary school and later the Liceo de Varones.
H e spent som e vacation periods on the family farm, and it
w as there that he w as exposed to the typical speech of the
peasants and farm workers of the region, which later was to
be a significant feature of som e of his novels.
Azuela became interested in literature during his ele
mentary school years. Quite naturally this middle-class
family w as addicted to the novel, and young Mariano had
access to a good selection of French Romanticists and Real
ists in the family living room. His interest in such novels
must have been heightened by the fact that his father ow ned
som e prohibited works, such as Dumas' Count of Monte Cristo.
A s it was considered a sin to read such works, the senior
Azuela hid them inside empty soap boxes, which only served
■ ^ F o r a comprehensive biography of Azuela, see Luis
Leal, Mariano Azuela: vida y obra (Mexico City: Studium,
1961) .
105
to increase Mariano's enjoyment in discovering and reading
them. It m ay well have contributed to his ultimate realiza
tion that the novel could be a powerful tool for attacking
the social and p olitical ills of his country.
In 1887, at the height of the Diaz era, Azuela went to
Guadalajara to continue his education. A t his mother's
insistence he enrolled at a seminary; but he lacked a voca
tion and, as he put it, regained his liberty in 1889. H e
then entered a public institution, the Liceo de Varones del
Estado. For ten important years, Azuela led the life of an
urban, middle-class intellectual. H e lived in a boarding
house with similar types, read the novels of the day, and
studied for his medical degree, which he received in 1899.
H e also found time to take more than a passive interest in
literature during these years. H e wrote his firs t prose as
early as 1889, a series of sketches about life in Guadala
jara. These and other sketches were published under the
title Registro in 1897, and he demonstrated his inclination
to become a novelist with the publication a year earlier of
his firs t story, "Impressions of a Student."
In 1899, Azuela returned to Lagos with the desire to
practice medicine and to write novels. H e w as to pursue his
interests in both fields for the rest of his life , which
106
covered seventy-nine years and som e two dozen novels. His
literary career during the firs t decade of the new century,
and the last decade of the traditional Mexico, was aided by
his association with the lite r a ti of Lagos. The group met
monthly with other writers and artists to discuss literature
and to read to each other their ow n poems and prose. Azuela
used this group as a forum for developing his novelistic
talen t. The group published three volumes of Ocios lite ra -
rios (1905, 1907, 1909), and it is in these anthologies that
som e of Azuela's earliest stories, sketches, and chapters of
future novels appear.
In these years of medical and novelistic apprenticeship
Azuela demonstrated an increasing awareness of his country's
social, economic, and p olitical problems. In 1903 he m ade a
journey to Mexico City, where he became acquainted with som e
nationally prominent writers and no doubt acquired a broader
perspective of Mexico's d iffic u ltie s. In the same year he
began to write short stories of social protest. In "D e m i
tierra" (1903), "Vxctimas de la opulencia" (1904), and "En
derrota" (1904), Azuela gives ample evidence that he is now
conscious of the m any social injustices prevalent in these
last years of the Diaz regime. All three stories revolve
around the abuse and oppression of the poor by the rich: a
107
servant g irl, raped by her master, has to explain to her
husband w hy their baby has blond hair; the extravagance of
the wealthy contrasts with the suffering of the poor; and
the hapless peon loses his sweetheart to the overseer's son.
B y 1907, Azuela has published his firs t novel, Maria
Luisa. The heroine of the title is a poor teenager w ho is
seduced by the son of an e lite family. The seduction leads
Maria Luisa into the inevitable life of prostitution, alco
holism, and early death. Maria Luisa is not a very good
novel, and in fact is not even a novel by the criteria used
in this study. The characterization of the principal per
sonages is inconsistent and often contradictory and the plot
structure is far from satisfactory. But the chief defect of
the work, as well as of the three short stories that pre
ceded it, is sociological.
At this stage in his literary evolution, Azuela is an
establishment novelist. To this point, the social protest
in his fiction is directed at the wealthy w ho abuse and
exploit the poor. But Azuela s t i l l has not conceptualized
the system its e lf as being the problem; instead, the problem
is seen as a lack of paternal benevolence on the part of the
e lite or a lack of w ill power on the part of the poor. A nd
because of the lack of this sociological dimension, Maria
108
Luisa is not "novel." In fact, it very m uch resembles the
works of Azuela's nineteenth-century precursors.
There are, however, som e aspects of Maria Luisa that
presage the emergence of Azuela as the firs t Mexican novel
is t, with the emphasis on the Mexican more than the genre.
Most importantly, Azuela's characters use the language that
is typical of the nation. Regional and social status are
reflected in a language that Azuela's peers hesitated to use
because it w as "substandard." Also, Azuela uses for the
firs t time an innovation that he would develop more fully
later, that of integrating physical and moral tra its in his
characterizations. El Chato (Pug-nose), for example, is a
degenerate student with deformed body, face like parchment,
and "... his receding chin shows a reddish tinge, the
2
result of his licentiousness." A third innovation that
emerges in this firs t novel is Azuela's brief, terse style,
which contrasts with the cult of verbiage that w as in vogue
at the time. His sentences are usually short, but he makes
a few words do the work of many. His descriptions are
2
Mariano Azuela, Obras com p let as, III (Mexico City:
Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1960), 845. W hen available,
English translations of Azuela's works are used. W hen no
English edition is available, a Spanish-language edition is
cited and the translation is mine.
109
shorter and better than those of his peers, especially de
scriptions of the Mexican landscape; and he favors dialog
over description in developing characters.
The classification of Azuela as an establishment novel
is t during this firs t part of his literary career does not
seem to be inconsistent with his personal background. His
literary career was being influenced by the lite r a ti with
w h o m he w as associating, but this only delayed the emergence
of a middle-class consciousness. A nd even though Azuela was
imitating the prevailing literary norms in the sociological
sense, he never imitated the style of the e lite . The inno
vations described above serve to illu strate that Azuela w as
never a "m an of le tte rs," either in the scholarly or a rtis
tic sense. Instead he was a middle-class physician w ho
wrote prose, and as such he uses colloquial language that
does not romanticize or patronizej he employs a simple,
direct, and efficient style, he emphasizes dialog and action
over description, and he stresses the physical aspects of
people and environment. Maria Luisa is written by a middle-
class a rtis t. It failed because it w as not written for a
middle-class audience. But Azuela's next work innovates in
that area also.
110
The Failures
The Failures (Los fracas ados), published in 1908, w as
actually written som e two years earlier by Azuela in Lagos
de Moreno. Its writing and publication are landmark events
in terms o± the significance of the work for Mexican lite ra
ture. Its significance cannot be attributed to lasting
literary greatness, for the work is not even considered good
by contemporary c ritic s; but it is considered significant
here because it marks the firs t time that one work incor
porates a ll the variables necessary for classification as a
novel.
F irst, by the year 1908 the sociological character
istics that favor the genre had developed sufficiently in
Mexico. A novel could be written, but i t could not be pub
lished with any success without a numerically significant
audience that was middle-class in values and aspirations.
B y 1908, the economic and technological development of the
Diaz regime had promoted a social system with m any new
statures. A n increasingly sophisticated work and management
force consciously adopted the modern values of the indus
trialized society. A n increased percentage of literacy and
a change in emphasis in education from classical to p racti
cal considerations promoted a non-elitist reading public.
I l l
A nd the creation of channels of mass communication that tie
people together into national modes of thought promoted a
sense of identity and a class consciousness am ong the emerg
ing middle sectors of urban Mexico.
Second, a creative genius w ho is a product of these
sociological changes must apply his a rtistic talents to the
writing of prose. The perspective of time has served to
verify the true a rtistic genius of Azuela. His best works
are s t i l l widely read and have been translated into the
major languages of the world, and literary critics at hom e
and abroad have not downgraded Azuela's lofty position in
3
Mexican letters . The biographical and autobiographical
information available on Azuela, which w as briefly sum m a
rized above, certainly places him firmly within the middle
class. A s a middle-class intellectual-student, he was con
nected through channels of intuition, psychology, and con
sciousness to modern values and aspirations. That he per
tained to the middle class is also reflected in the literary
3
Azuela was interested m leaving for posterity som e
information about his life and works; hence his Obras com-
pletas contain m uch autobiographical information. For a
collection of letters from and to Azuela see Beatrice Ber-
ler, ed., Epistolario y archivo (Mexico City: Universidad
Autonoma de Mexico, 1969).
112
innovations evident in Maria Luisa. Simplicity of style,
use of dialog, emphasis on the physical, and colloquial
language can be associated with the popular as opposed to
the e lite .
Finally, the a rtis t must be revolutionary in his a t t i
tude toward the e lite that controls his society, and he must
express that attitude in his prose. Being revolutionary
entails the conceptualization of a privileged e lite and an
out-group, and the advocacy of the replacement of the elite ,
including its corresponding institutions and values, with
the group that the author represents. It is this socio
logical dimension that is absent from Azuela's preliminary
works; but the year 1908, the creative genius of Mariano
Azuela, and the product of his genius, The Failures, repre
sent the firs t meshing of the three variables discussed
above. In this work, Azuela protests the corruption, igno
rance, and egocentricity of Mexico's establishment; but what
separates The Failures from its antecedents in Mexican fic
tion is that Azuela goes beyond the criticism of paternal
malevolence and attacks traditional values and institutions
themselves. H e suggests that improvement will com e only
with a change in system. The effect is that Azuela w as
looking ahead, that is to modern values and institutions,
113
while the establishment novelists were looking back, advo-
4
eating a return to traditional morality and benevolence.
In 1908, the suggestion that traditional values and
institutions should be rejected in favor of modern ones w as
a revolutionary proposition. Interestingly, Azuela's severe
attack on the Diaz regime itse lf did not lead to his being
punished or harassed by the government; but this can be
explained by the fact that the book went largely unnoticed
by critics and public, which is understandable in that it
was "novel." Noticed or not, The Failures is a literary
innovation in Mexico. That i t appeared at a time of socio
logical innovation supports the contention m ade earlier that
the novel is linked to, and depends on, social change.
Compared with Azuela's forthcoming novels, The Failures
does not stand out. But in the context of this investiga
tion, it marks the emergence of the Mexican novel. The word
"emergence" connotes a coming forth from something else and
the appearance of new properties in the course of develop
ment or evolution. Azuela's second novel cam e forth from
the sociological and literary evolution described earlier,
“ ^Analysis in a following chapter will demonstrate that
Azuela, w ho always enjoyed taking the opposite position,
started looking backward when most people were looking
ahead.
114
and the middle-class sociological dimension represents the
appearance of new properties. The Failures emerged from
the Mexican environment. Being truly Mexican and truly
novelj it is an appropriate work with which to begin an
analysis of p olitical alienation in the Mexican novel.
Porfirian Mexico in Azuela's Novels
In m any ways, The Failures resembles the numerous
establishment novels of the period: the setting is a pro
vincial town, the provincialism of the inhabitants of the
town is characterized with satire, and a major theme of the
work is the defeat of idealism in the Mexican environment.
The resemblance is superficial, however, for Azuela's
idealism is based on the more modern values of the urban
middle class, and his explanation for the defeat of idealism
is sociological, not personal. Azuela portrays his ideals,
and explains their defeat, through the behavior of the per
sonages he has created.
The key figure in the novel, and from the standpoint of
this study a key figure in Mexican fiction, is a young law
school graduate named Resendez. Having just received his
licentiate from the university in the state capital, Resen
dez has com e to the provincial town of Alamos. H e arrives
115
as the appointed secretary to the city council, and he is
eager to put to practical use a ll the modern ideals of
social justice that he has learned from his professors. O f
course, the struggle is an unequal one. At every turn,
Resendez and his noble ideals lose out to the entrenched
power holders of the town.
A s a counterpoint to the modernity represented through
Resendez, Azuela created a character that one expects to
find in a provincial Mexican town, the highly conservative
parish p riest. Father Cabezudos is the leader of the tra
ditional element in Alamos. For decades he has been brood
ing over the injustices perpetrated against the Church by
the Reform, and he has devoted himself to preaching hate for
liberals, demanding that his parishioners do everything in
their power to stamp out this evil influence. That Cabe
zudos represents the traditional aspects of Mexican culture
is evident in his thought that
. . . it w as necessary to return to the past, by force
and only by force. It w as not necessary to invent any
thing; to build anything anew; simply take a step back
ward and return to its place that which Satan had cast
dow n from its pedestal.
5
Mariano Azuela, Los fracasados (Mexico City: Edi-
ciones Botas, 1939), p. 2 08.
116
So Azuela sets the stage for the clash between lib eral
ism and conservatism, between modernity and tradition,
through these two characters. The most interesting aspect
of Azuela's interpretation of this monumental clash is that
both lose. Indeed, Resendez and Cabezudos, along with the
values that each represents, are the "failures" alluded to
in the t i t l e . It is Resendez w ho realizes that he and
Father Cabezudos, while representing philosophical oppo
sites, are alike in two respects: they are both idealists,
and they are both failu res:
T w o idealists: one running blindly in pursuit of some
thing that deceives him; . . . the other overinflated
with hopes and with youth, w ho in the triumph of sc i
ence pursues another shadow that eludes him. (p. 246)
Father Cabezudos, like Resendez, finally realizes that
his idealism is useless and even harmful when he reflects on
the results of his hateful preachings:
It certainly was not liberalism, nor was i t heresy or
impiety; it w as something more powerful, immensely
greater, incomparable, that prevented the realization
of his ideals: i t was human ignorance and wickedness.
(p. 151)
While Azuela is c ritic a l of both the traditional and
the modern "failures," his sharpest protest is aimed at the
group that could be called "the successes." W here idealism
117
fails in the Mexican environment, wickedness, stupidity,
corruption, and egocentric power succeed. Thus the power
holders of Alamos are opportunistic, corrupt, brutal, ig
norant, and mediocre. This group of successes is neither
modern nor traditional, but somewhere in between. Azuela
does not develop any characters from this group in The
Failures. so they cannot be analyzed according to the
p olitical alienation model. This intermediate group is most
important to the purposes of this study, and similar groups
in later works will be classified under the concept of the
amalgamated culture.
It is a demonstration of Azuela's a rtistic and social
insight that in 1906 he had perceived so well the clash
between tradition and modernity in Mexico; and further, that
he saw both groups losing out in favor of an intermediate
one. H e portrays this clash from the opening paragraphs of
the novel to the final lin es. A s Attorney Resendez enters
Alamos to assume his position as p o litical secretary, he
sees from the window of his modern train a tex tile factory
with machines, noise, and smoke; but he also sees roosters
and "plains of silence" (p. 6). But it is the intermediate
group, the p olitical leaders and bureaucrats w ho run the
town, w ho intrude most sharply on the ideals of the young
118
lawyer. From the m om ent of his firs t contact with the
town's officialdom, he is increasingly appalled and dis
gruntled by the corruption, inefficiency, and laziness of
the political process. At the same time, he finds his
social life am ong the traditional social groups to be
stultifying. Soon he comes to realize that life in the
province is full of just as m uch that displeases him as was
the modern enclave from which he had fled: "W hat irrita te s
m e most is that I fled from a dunghill only to fa ll into
another one even more filthy, more miserable" (p. 85).
Obviously Resendez does not "belong" in Alamos. Even
tually he is interacting with a very small circle of ac
quaintances whose ideals and values are sim ilar. This group
includes a p riest, a medical doctor, and the daughter of the
most powerful hacendado of the town. The priest, a Father
Martinez, serves to illu strate that not a ll clerics are
fanatical enemies of liberalism like Father Cabezudos. The
liberalism of the doctor reflects Azuela's personal back
ground in medicine. Consuelo, the daughter of don Agapito,
is out of place am ong her family and the e lite circle in
which they live. Her liberal ideas contrast with the pre
vailing conservatism, and her physical beauty distinguishes
her from her arrogant, homely siste rs. This contrast is
119
d ifficu lt to understand until it is revealed that Consuelo
is actually the illegitim ate daughter of Father Martinez
and an actress of a troupe that cam e through town years ago.
D on Agapito and his wife, dona Recareda, agree to raise the
fruit of that indiscretion, hiding the truth from everybody,
in return for favors from the Church in Alamos.
Resendez and Consuelo soon fall in love, but their
romance is encumbered by the conservatism of the family.
The most significant thing about the romance, however, is
the impact it has on the social and p o litical behavior of
Resendez. H e withdraws completely from any effort to put
into practice the ideals of p o litical and social justice
that he learned from his professors, deciding instead to
pursue his personal happiness. Thus he becomes willing to
forego:
. . . his goals of truth and justice— a truth that no
body listens to, a justice that nobody heeds— when, worn
out from anguish, he contemplated the humiliating spec
tacle of mediocrity, . . . Consuelo stood out like a
powerful beacon. So the course of his life changed
abruptly. Instead of the diligent and fiery struggle,
the selfish pleasures of the home, the sweet happiness
of being unknown, passive and resigned. (pp. 121-122)
But for Resendez and Consuelo, the forces of history
dictate that they will not know that sweet happiness. The
traces of liberalism that are touching Alamos more and more
12 0
finally provoke a climactic clash between tradition and
modernity and between Father Cabezudos and Resendez. Cabe-
zudos organizes a gigantic procession of the Sacred Heart
of Jesus as a rallying point for conservatives. The fanati
cal priest has managed to bring hatred for liberalism to a
hysterical, fever pitch am ong his parishioners. In the
procession are the traditional e lite of the town, including
the hacienda owners and their subservient peones. Watching
from the sidewalks are the less traditional elements, in
cluding Resendez and the town scribe. The latter is plainly
embarrassed by the procession, and he is compelled to ex
plain apologetically to the young attorney from the state
capital that
. . . such acts were now repugnant to m any alamenos,
w ho felt that their reputation as worthy citizens was
being harmed. Such acts only took place in littl e towns
of low category or in simple haciendas or ranches and
am ong semibarbaric peasants. (p. 200)
Resendez can only comment b itte rly , "A n infraction of
the L aw s of Reform. Long live the policy of conciliation
and long live dona Carmelita" (p. 2 0 0 ) But Resendez will
0
The policy of conciliation refers to the once an ti
clerical Diaz' effort to gain the Church as an ally by non
enforcement of restrictions against the Church. Dona Carme
lita , the pious firs t lady, had m uch to do with the eventual
"unofficial" alliance between the Church and the Diaz regime.
121
not be allowed to remain a passive observer. The p olitical
leaders of the town, ever opportunistic, get Resendez' sig
nature on an order for the arrest of Cabezudos by trickery.
The p rie st's arrest provokes a demonstration from his fol
lowers, whereupon he is released. A nd the p o litical lead
ers are able to fire Resendez for exceeding his authority.
The fires of hatred that Cabezudos has been fanning now
burn out of control, and the town is in an uproar as known
liberals are forced out of town. Resendez attempts to find
Consuelo so that they m ay flee together, but he is shot in
the street and c ritic a lly wounded. S om e time later he
emerges from a long coma, and when he is told that Consuelo
has disappeared, he vows to spend the rest of his life
searching for her. H e also pointedly vows to spend the rest
of his life avoiding the sordid p olitical affairs of his
country.
Although Resendez by no means represents an outstanding
literary characterization, Azuela has created a personage of
some depth whose motivations and actions are understandable
when analyzed within the framework for p olitical alienation.
Resendez' personal background is entirely consistent
with the modern values he exemplifies. H e was born in a
modern enclave, the state capital. Within the enclave, he
122
was part of the intellectual community, being a graduate of
the state university. The only other thing that Azuela
makes known about the life of his protagonist before coming
to Alamos is the fact that he was illegitim ate. Azuela
gives the other personage w ho reflects modern values, Con
suelo, the same stigma. That this m ay have a bearing on
their modernity will be discussed later .
Resendez1 actions and thoughts are consistent with the
modern classifications of the framework. His reasons for
coming to Alamos in the firs t place demonstrate a modern
outlook. H e has insisted on coming to a small town, over
the protests of his teachers and peers, for one reason:
1 1 . . . ambition, his immeasurable ambition" (p. 7). His
great longing w as to gain a position as a professor, and he
saw the taking of a position in a small town as the best w ay
to achieve his goal. In coming to Alamos he is actively
seeking to organize his future to serve his ow n purposes.
H e clearly sees the possibility of rising above his humble
background to a position of prominence through his ow n
achievements.
The political values of Resendez are consistent with
his modern cultural values. His orientation is that of a
participant, having been filled with liberal theories on the
12 3
p olitical process by his professors. The fact that he had
no family can be seen as contributing to his modernity.
Lacking socialization by primary groups, the modern ideas
of professors and textbooks must have encountered little
resistance. The conservatism of such primary groups as
family and church in the socialization experiences of child
hood is an important factor in the perpetuation of a tra d i
tional culture; and consciously or not, Azuela ascribes the
status of "natural" children to the two characters w ho are
modern. While Azuela does not describe the childhood of
Resendez beyond his confession that "... they found m e in
an arroyo" (p. 196), he does go into more detail on Con
suelo 's formative years. She has been raised, along with
her two sisters, as a m em ber of the family of the town
cacique, don Agapito. There is no question that Azuela
contrasts Consuelo with her "sisters" by describing their
physical differences. The one is attractive, graceful, and
quick, the others ugly, clumsy, and torpid. Fortunately,
Azuela does not limit his explanation of the s iste rs' un
pleasant rigidity to one of inherent biological inferiority.
H e touches on a sociological explanation for the contrast by
suggesting a subtle difference in the way Consuelo is
treated by her parents. Consuelo is obviously not the
124
family favorite, especially in the eyes of her "mother."
Although no one knows of Consuelo's heritage except the
parents, the sisters have sensed from childhood a certain
h o stility on the part of their parents toward Consuelo; and
their ow n h ostility toward their sister goes unpunished,
even encouraged. The result is that Consuelo grows up as a
"difficult" child. A s such, it is decided that she should
attend public schools instead of those run by the Church.
She returns from normal school as the very knowledgeable
schoolmistress, but her family notices only that her be
havior has become even more irreverent toward the tra d i
tional values of the community. Not incorrectly, the family
attributes her liberal ideas and her scorn of religious and
social customs to her attendance at "those Godless govern
ment schools." The conflict becomes so sharp that dona
Recareda finally casts Consuelo out of the family home. It
would seem from these two characters that Azuela viewed the
family as playing a key role in socializing into the tra d i
tional p olitical culture, and conversely, not having strong
family ties can promote adherence to modern p o litical val
ues .
A n interesting aspect of the recruitment process in
Alamos stems from the circumstance that the town is
125
beginning to be touched by change. Resendez, as well as a ll
the other p olitical functionaries in town, serve as exam
ples . They were recruited for their roles by universalistic
c rite ria : Resendez, for example, "achieved" his role as
p o litical secretary on the basis of his university perform
ance. But once in their p o litical roles, these state and
federally appointed officials are coopted quickly and easily
by the traditional p olitical e lite of the town. Thus Azuela
explains the corruption and opportunism of p o litical o ffi
cials : they manipulate the p o litical process to favor w hom
ever they choose. The highest appointed official in town is
characterized by Azuela as "Obese, . . . catholic and lib
eral, depending on what the situation required, having as
his motto adaptation to his environment" (p. 62).
Thus the political culture of Alamos has been touched
by the modernization process: a participant orientation,
secondary socialization groups, and recruitment according to
universalistic c riteria have been introduced as political
values. But these values have been imposed upon Alam os from
outside, and less than a handful strongly identify with
them. A subject orientation, socialization through primary
groups, and recruitment according to p articularistic c ri
teria are s t i l l the norms for the vast majority of Alamenos.
126
That traditional values s t i l l predominate in Alamos
can be seen in the p o litical process its e lf. D on Agapito,
the "father" of Consuelo and the owner of the largest haci
enda in the region, has no o fficial p olitical position. But
he is clearly s t i l l the town cacique. Nothing happens in
civic, religious, or social affairs without the "visto
bueno" of Agapito and the group of hacendados that he repre
sents . The Church, like the hacendados, has no o fficial
p o litical position; but few decisions are m ade without the
approval of the clergymen of the town.
The hacendados and the Church dominate the p o litical
process because they represent the only input structures in
town. A s interest articulators and aggregators, they are
nonassociational structures: multifunctional, ascriptive,
and hierarchical. The input functions dominated by these
two groups operate in a sacred style: adherence to custom,
tradition, and emotion.
While the input functions and structures of the p o liti
cal process seem to be completely in the hands of tra d i
tional groups, the effects of modernization can be seen in
the output functions. In the traditional model, the same
structure that performed the input function would also make,
enforce, and adjudicate the p olitical rules. In Alamos, the
127
traditional e lite no longer performed the output functions
directly. Instead, structures that were more associational,
more specialized, and more secular were responsible for
these functions. But as long as the traditional groups
maintained control of the input functions, the changes
wrought by modernization would be superficial. Thus there
were specialized, autonomous, universalistic agencies,
manned by professionals and operating in a secular style,
in Alamos. These modern characteristics had little impact
on the political process, however, since nearly a ll input
had to be based on traditional crite ria .
The climactic event in The Failures, the religious pro
cession and subsequent rio t, serves as an example of this
political process. The clergy, with the aid and support of
the hacendados, organize the procession as a way of articu
lating the interests of the traditional Alamenos. Resendez
makes the mistake of enforcing the law in a modern manner,
i.e ., impartially and universally, and he signs the order
for the arrest of Father Cabezudos. The other priests
organize a m ob that demonstrates in the streets, and this
form of interest articulation results in the release of
Cabezudos and the firing of Resendez. Obviously, Resendez
had not acted according to the "rules of the game." H e
128
performed an output function that was supported only by
those w ho had no access to input structures and functions.
The p o litical chief of the town, on the other hand, based
his output function on the Church-sponsored m ob interest
articulation. In addition, the political chief responded to
the interest articulation of the e lite in writing a false
report on the incident to the state capital. O n the basis
of that report, Resendez was fired for exceeding his author
ity in the arrest of Cabezudos.
Resendez' feeling of not belonging in Alamos begins the
m om ent he steps off the train . His equalitarian orientation
makes him grimace when he is greeted with "This way, m y
patron" (p. 8) by the porter. Walking through town, he
notices people staring ". . . as if I were the rarest animal
on earth" (p. 9). Arriving at the city hall, he is greeted
by a scene of laziness, pretension, and injustice, and he
reasons that what he is seeing is "logically nothing more
than a very small example of what occurs in larger towns"
(p. 40) .
Resendez' alienation from the political process can be
explained in the great discrepancy between his political
expectations and the p o litical reality of Alamos. Reflect
ing the values of the modern p o litical culture, he fully
129
expects that a ll members of the community will participate
actively in, and be treated fairly by, the political struc
tures of the town. W hen a peon comes before the political
chief to protest the mistreatment of his son on the hacienda
of don Agapito, Resendez is surprised and appalled at the
nature of the confrontation. The authorities arrest the
peon for his insolence; but even more appalling is the w ay
the old m an reacts to his a rre st:
H e bowed his head, without the least indication of pro
te s t. W hen I saw him being dragged away between two
policemen with that hopeless, hang-dog gaze of sadness,
I fe lt that something was suffocating me. A nd I be
lieved in Justice i I had faith in the government I
(p. 84)
A s time passes, and as Resendez is bombarded with more
incidents that violate his political values, he becomes more
estranged from his environment:
. . . day after day his illusions were being shattered.
Before his eyes he beheld the constant spectacle of
prostitution in a ll branches of officialdom. The unend
ing repetition of the scene of laziness that surprised
him upon his arrival was insignificant compared with what
he would see later on. (p. 162)
A s events in Alamos near a climax, Resendez is becoming
increasingly isolated. His alienation now extends to those
professors w ho filled him with so m uch idealism, and w ho m he
now views as ". . . only having pretended to swim above the
130
mire, thanks to their prestige and talent; being, in real
ity, stuck in the mire like the rest of the m ob" (p. 84).
While watching the procession of the Sacred Heart of
Jesus, Resendez makes his most cynical comment about his
society: ". . . two kinds of people unite within the refuge
of any creed: the scoundrels w ho exploit, and the imbeciles
w ho let themselves be exploited" (p. 280). Scoundrels (b ri-
bones) and imbeciles are perhaps harsh terms with which to
describe the two p o litical groups in Alamos. But Resendez'
alienation is so great because the discrepancy between the
expected participant orientation and the actual subject
orientation is so great.
While Azuela concentrates his protests on the fanatical
traditionalists and the corrupt intermediate group, the
modern enclave does not escape criticism . Resendez has com e
to Alamos in the firs t place because he would have to de
scend to the level of his adversaries in order to succeed
in the state capital: "T o stain himself in the same mire of
fla tte rie s, serv ility , ignoble intrigues, illegitim ate ambi
tions, . . . which would mortally wound the nobility of his
ideal" (p. 8) .
Azuela is even sympathetic to the attitudes of the
provincial townspeople toward the distant authority in the
131
state capital. O ne of the more intelligent townsmen ex
plains to Resendez that he viewed the federal government as
a group of ". . . powerful rogues w ho eat from our ribs"
(p. 56). The distant state capital is seen as extorting
revenue from municipalities like Alamos "... so that those
fops can have their great theatres, their military bands,
their magnificent gardens and boulevards, and the devil"
(p. 56). The conservatives w ho display such attitudes can
be viewed as alienated, and their alienation can be ex
plained by means of the discrepancy theory also. The situ a
tion is reversed from that which w as discussed above in
relation to Resendez: Cabezudos, for example, reflects tr a
ditional values and a traditional p o litical culture. H e
expects the p olitical process to function according to those
traditional valuesj and the traces of modernity that affect
the output functions, while only superficial, are under
standably seen as a serious threat.
Azuela seems to have understood the helplessness and
devastation felt by conservatives like Cabezudos as they
watched the flooding tide of modernity erode the values they
cherished. So he ultimately treats Cabezudos with sympathy,
and he even has the fanatical priest realizing that he was
wrong, that in effect he had wasted his entire life ,
132
preaching hatred for liberalism. A nd Azuela finishes by
having these two extremes of Mexican society com e to the
same conclusion regarding human nature: Cabezudos realizes
that his enemy is not liberalism, but "hum an wickedness and
ignorance"; Resendez realizes that his enemy is not conser
vatism, but a human nature which dictates that one is either
a scoundrel w ho exploits or an imbecile w ho lets himself be
exploited. The two m en believe in the same underlying
premise regarding human nature; both are "failures" because
their idealism prevents them from operating according to
that premise; and both are alienated from a society that
does not live up to their expectations.
From the point of view of the literary c ritic , Azuela's
early works, including The Failures, suffer from weak char
acterization. At this stage his characters are types that
7
lack an identity of their own. This literary shortcoming
can be translated into a social science shortcoming in terms
of the framework being used here. Azuela does not explore
the affective state of his protagonist in m uch d e ta il.
Consequently, while the social alienation of Resendez from
his p o litical culture is well illustrated, there are few
7
See, for example, Leal, p. 45.
133
glimpses into how that alienation affects the protagonist
internally.
Azuela does have Resendez reflecting feelings of power
lessness and isolation in several instances. In one scene,
Resendez is reflecting in this manner:
Perhaps in the depth of our souls w e are nothing more
than deluded dreamers, persecuted by the ideal. Pushed
by our ow n convictions into the denial of our ow n being;
hated, v ilified by the brute force of mediocrity that
detests anything that is n 't mediocre its e lf. (p. 245)
The response of Resendez to this feeling of powerless -
ness is withdrawal. Crushed by the mediocrity and corrup
tion that engulfs him, he resolves to pursue the "sweet
happiness of being obscure, passive, and resigned." H e vow s
to spend the rest of his life pursuing an ideal that cannot
betray him:
. . . to search for Consuelo, as if she were a speck
lost in the universe. Indeed he had spent a half of
his life in search of something impossible, justice;
he m ay as well spend the other half in search of some
thing possible, the home. (p. 249)
Resendez needs to belong. H e cannot integrate himself
with his society, so he w ill retreat into himself, rejecting
his surroundings. Azuela does not develop the character of
Resendez any further, not even speculating on what degree of
happiness, if any, will result from this strategy of
134
withdrawal. The important question of how an individual's
actions during this turbulent period influenced his affec
tive state is being explored by Mexico's contemporary novel
ists; and no doubt a current or future novelist will use his
creative genius to extend our knowledge of this aspect of
g
Mexican character. Azuela's Resendez is the beginning, the
foundation of that knowledge.
The Failures is a beginning because it is novel.
Azuela makes it clear that the solution to Mexico's problems
does not lie in a return to the past. In fact, he depicts
this notion, one that was in vogue with his peers, as one of
fanaticism bordering on madness. The direction that Azuela
advocates is toward progressive social change, although
those w ho represent modernity are not spared criticism . For
Azuela, writing in the year 1906, progressive change was
symbolized by Juarez and the Reform. In the final scene of
The Failures, Resendez has just regained consciousness. The
firs t thing he sees is a newly constructed monument to
Juarez in the plaza outside his window, and his broken dream
reawakens:
8
See, for example, Carlos Fuentes, The Death of Artemio
Cruz, tran s. Sam Hileman (N ew York: Farrar, Straus and
Giroux, 1964) .
135
W hat was the significance of a statue of Juarez in this
town of fanatics? W a s i t perhaps a revelation that the
Alamos he had known w as not the only Alamos? Didn't
there live som e w ho were above the general tumult, w ho
without clamor, cries or rio ts, l it tl e by little were
imposing their force upon the barbaric masses? (pp.
243-244)
But if Resendez sees som e hope for progress, he also
sees that it will not com e through "the failures," the well-
intentioned id e a lists. Instead it w ill be "imposed upon the
barbaric masses by those w ho are above the tumult." The
monument in the plaza is the perfect symbol for the amalga
mation of liberal progress and paternal force: liberalism
commemorated in hard stone. Resendez, w ho entered Alamos
full of notions of justice and equality, now reflects, "That
monument symbolized the ideal m ade into granite in the only
form that the people would respect and venerate: blind,
brutal dogma" (pp. 243-244).
Thus in the year 1906 Azuela was not very optimistic
about Mexican society. Modernity and tradition were on a
collision course, and in such an environment there was no
place for ideals. Progress would meet opposition from con
servatives and from the opportunistic middle group. The
alienated Resendez not only withdraws from the struggle, he
has formed the opinion that progress must be imposed in an
authoritarian manner on a population that respects only
136
blind dogm a.. . This problem of mixing liberalism with pater
nalism is of central importance to Azuela and to Mexico, and
the novelist will deal with i t frequently from this point
on.
This "paternal equalitarianism" can be viewed as an
amalgam. Resendez, the intellectual, adopts modern values.
But he exists in an environment far different from that of
the Western intellectual. Equalitarian values, existing in
a society that is stra tifie d and hierarchical, amalgamate
with authoritarian values. O n the one hand, then, Resendez
can view a ll human beings as equal, while on the other hand,
he can view the masses as barbaric m en w ho should be ruled
by those more capable. This paternal equalitarianism is the
logical p o litical world view of the amalgamated in tellec
tual, that is, the intellectual w ho exists in the amalga
mated Mexican environment.
Marcela
In the year 1909 Azuela published the best of his early
9
novels, Marcela. This work has received higher c ritic a l
9
Mariano Azuela, Marcela: A Mexican Love Story, tran s.
Anita Brenner (N ew York: Farrar and Rinehart, 1932). The
original Spanish title of the work is Mala yerba (Mexico
City: Ediciones Botas, 1945), which translates lite ra lly as
137
acclaim than Azuela's other early works because its charac
ters are more fully developed.Within the context of this
study, more profound character development equates with a
deeper exploration of interactions between individuals and
their sociological environment. Consequently, a direct
relationship between literary acclaim and sociological in
sight can be expected. This is the case with Marcela, a
work in which Azuela firmly establishes himself as a Mexican
novelist as opposed to an establishment prose writer.
The sociological perspective in Marcela differs from
that which Azuela developed in The Failures. In both novels
the same three groups are portrayed as they interact with
one another. There are characters w ho reflect traditional
values, those w ho are modern, and those w ho pertain to the
intermediate group. But in Marcela. the principal charac
ters are traditional individuals w ho are just beginning to
be influenced by modernity, while the protagonist of The
Failures is a modern individual w ho has been thrust into an
"Bad Herb." Since English translations of Azuela's works
are being used when available, the t it le Marcela will be
used throughout the text, and a ll references are to the
English edition.
10See, for example, Brushwood, pp. 109-110, and Leal,
pp. 47-48.
138
alien environment. Thus the social conflicts in the two
novels stem from the same source, the clash between modern
ity and tradition. But Azuela portrayed the impact of a
traditional environment on the modern individual in Resen
dez, while in Marcela he portrays the other side of that
conflict: the impact of modernity on traditional individ
uals .
The setting for Marcela is a hacienda, and the charac
ters created by Azuela are consistent with the sociological
view of that nineteenth-century Mexican institution. There
is the land-owning family, the patrones, led by the young
master, Julian Andrade, and there are various personages
representing those w ho work the land, the peones. The la t
ter group includes the heroine of the story, Marcela, and
the master's groom, Gertrudis. There is not a single char
acter in the novel w ho could be considered modern. Modern
ity is an important influence on the other characters, but
i t is a phenomenon from outside. In this way Azuela can
demonstrate the relentlessness and the inevitability of the
coming of modernity to rural areas and rural people. Only
one modern personage appears in the novel, an engineer from
the United States named M r. Johnson, and he utters not a
word throughout. In the nearby provincial town there are
139
several characters w ho pertain to the middle group. Sig
nificant ly, the characters w ho reflect a mixture of modern
and traditional values are all public officials, a circum
stance that was also true of The Failures. The most impor
tant of these are the judge, the judge's secretary, and the
town's chief law enforcement officer.
The plot revolves around a typical love triangle in
volving Julian, Marcela, and Gertrudis. A s a love story the
work is neither inspiring nor original, but it has both
literary and sociological importance. It contributed to the
evolution of the Mexican novel in several ways. First,
Azuela introduces new dimensions in the techniques of por
traying character. In his earlier works, Azuela developed
character by describing the appearance, the manner, and the
nature of his creations. In a sense he was "telling the
reader," in m uch the same way that the early European novel
ists, Scott for example, would leave little to the reader's
imagination. With his characterization of Marcela, Azuela
tries to put the reader in touch with the mind of his char
acter through her thoughts and even through her subconscious
personality. This is not meant to imply that Azuela pene
trated the mental processes of his characters as deeply as
did James Joyce. But he did puncture the exterior, and a
1 4 0
future novelist, Agustin Yanez, would initiate a novelistic
investigation of the internal aspects of Mexican character
by following Azuela's innovative explorations.^ Azuela
also allows his creations to speak "in character," as op
posed to the tendency of his peers to have their characters
express themselves in the language of their creators. Hav
ing peones speak like peones is an innovation begun previ
ously by Azuela, but he improves upon the technique of in
tegrating speech and social status in this work.
The sociological importance of Marcela can be found in
Azuela's portrayal of the power relationship between patron
and peon. Social interaction is governed by the absolute
dominance of the masters and the absolute subjugation of the
servants. Azuela sees this relationship as inherently cor
rupting and degrading to both those with unchecked power and
those w ho are utterly powerless. The implication is that a
revolutionary change, that is a change in the dominance-
subjugation relationship itself, is necessary and as inevit
able as the coming of modern influences to rural Mexico. In
"^See Agustin Yanez, A 1 filo del aqua (Mexico City:
Porrua, 1955). This landmark Mexican novel has been trans
lated into English by Ethel Brinton as The Edge of the Storm
(Austin: Univ. of Texas Press, 1963) .
1 4 1
contrast, Azuela's predecessors and peers protested the
abuse of the subjugated by the dominant; but they called for
more benevolence on the part of the masters and more will
power on the part of the servants, and not for a change in
the system. O n the contrary, the establishment novelist
advocated a return to a more benevolent past, not a plunge
into a revolutionary future.
In his creation of Julian Andrade, Azuela vividly por
trays the corrupting influence of unchecked power. Julian's
brother, for example, shoots an eight-year-old boy w ho
accidentally frightens the master's horse. Julian's father
castrates a ten-year-old boy for stealing tunas off a cactus
on hacienda lands, and upon hearing of this deed, Julian
". . . says it's so amusing they ought to do it again som e
time" (Marcela, p. 213). Julian himself commits three mur
ders during the course of the novel, not to mention numerous
cruelties that fall just short of murder.
For most of the peones on the hacienda, such deeds are
endured passively. The dominance-subjugation relationship
is based on tradition and accepted as natural. Senor Pablo,
the oldest dependent on the hacienda, does not begrudge the
power of the master, even though his ow n godson had been
murdered by Julian some years earlier. Azuela sums up the
142
submissiveness of the peones in this manner: "Ancestral
tradition garroted them and delivered them to their slayers"
(p. 18) .
Ironically, the only trace of peon discontent with the
master Julian stems from his failure to administer his God-
given power firmly and bravely. W hen the house servant
hears his master insulted by a w om an shopkeeper, he thinks
scornfully.
W hat have the Andrades com e to ! W h o ever heard of one
of those old ones, real men they were, taking such a
slap. This poor devil, insulted by a wom an, fixes it
all by just laughing, laughing like an imbecile, . . .
(p. 2 0 0)
A nd Senor Pablo, in comparing the current masters with
the past, tells the other peones that "brave m en were the
ancestors of m y masters, they w ho came to this kingdom from
the waters of Spain" (p. 14). But he goes on to describe
how decadent and weak these masters have become:
Nowadays, those [masters] that you know, you've seen
them and I don't have to add a thing. W hen has a soul
seen one of them hit a m an as the Lord our G od commands?
. . . Face to face. All they know how to do is slice
the mouth of a w om an or rip the belly of a mistress.
(p. 15)
Azuela continues to develop his technique of associat
ing personality characteristics with physical features, and
143
Julian is a prime example; he has ". . . flesh of a rotten
and degenerate line; bad blood appeared in purplish
splotches that spread over his face" (p. 9).
The two peones w ho do not accept the dominance-
subjugation relationship are the groom Gertrudis and the
beautiful granddaughter of Senor Pablo, Marcela. Gertrudis,
upon his return from a stint at farm labor in the United
States, begins to display small gestures of independence.
H e is impertinent one time; another time a defiant, derisive
smile accompanies his balking at an order. But this defi
ance of the masters, rather than winning him the respect of
his fellow peones, brings him their disapproval instead.
This is illustrated dramatically in a funeral scene on the
hacienda. The peones are burying one of their own, a young
m an w ho was shot by Julian while he was trying to prevent
the master from raping Marcela. The procession consisted
of a ". . . death cry, not of one man, but of a whole race,
cankered by centuries of humiliation and despair" (p. 23).
But Gertrudis shows no humility. H e is defiant, muttering
oaths, standing apart from the peones in the procession.
The peones notice Gertrudis' physical and mental distance
from the despairing procession, and they disapprove. In
their eyes, Gertrudis has
144
com e back from the United States with superior ways and
a manner that was enough to m ake anybody afraid. They
scattered, leaving him alone. "That boy will com e to a
bad end, 1 1 one sententiously prophesied. "He's got a
chip on his shoulder; and w e ain't in Morency [United
States] here." (p. 62)
The pe6n w ho is most affected by Gertrudis' insolence
is Marcela. In literary terms, Marcela is an important and
interesting personage because Azuela "develops" her. Her
attitudes and her personality actually change during the
course of the novel, and such character development is inno
vative in Mexican fiction. This literary character develop
ment can be stated in sociological terms as a change from
the passivity and submission of the traditional culture to
the first traces of activism and participation of the modern
mode1 .
W hen Azuela first introduces Marcela, she is an obedi
ent servant w ho accepts her subjugation with no complaint.
This subservience extends even to the historical use of
w om en for casual sexual pleasure by the masters:
Marcela was crushed by the prestige of that insolent
race of ravishers, no one of whose victims had exacted
justice. . . . To her, [Julian] was the omnipotent
master w ho possesses the w om an of his whim, without
resistance. (p. 40)
The first time Julidn attacked her, Marcela "... gave
in, ready for the sacrifice which lies like a curse on her
145
passive, unhappy race" (p. 12). But as time passes, Marcela
becomes aware of the possibility of changing her role in
life. This awareness comes to her in a dramatic scene that
takes place in the courthouse of the provincial town. The
judge is in the process of investigating the murder of the
unfortunate peon by Julian, and Marcela is called to tes
tify. Ironically, though, it is not the modern legal proc
ess that influences Marcela, for it is understood by every
one, including the judge, that an Andrade could not be
punished for killing a lowly peon. Instead, Marcela becomes
conscious of the power that her great beauty gives her over
m en of all social positions. She realizes that "... her
body can cast a fortunate spell and so long as that spell
lasts a good life will be upon her house: the best fields
for her family, loans not recorded; and for her, wool and
silk, . . ." (p. 37). A s Marcela is testifying, she
looked up, and was amazed. There in the eyes of the
judge, the secretary and the steongrapher, was the small
flame long familiar to her. . . . She became fully con
scious of her power as she grasped the sameness of men,
whatever their rank or class, when they are lashed by
desire. (p. 38)
Marcela's awareness of her power and the fact that she
has fallen in love with Gertrudis m ake it impossible for her
to continue submitting passively to Julian's sexual
1 46
assaults. The end of Marcela's subjugation comes in another
dramatic scene: she is fighting desperately against an
assault by Julian, and in the struggle Julian pulls a knife.
Marcela reacts by demanding that the master plunge the knife
into her breast. W hen he hesitates, she slaps him and he
falls to his knees, whimpering. Marcela, aghast that she is
s till alive, sees in her soul the sublime revenge for all
her unhappy race:
Perhaps when she offered her breast to the murderer's
blade, totally scornful of death, all the forces within
her had surged, and her mighty female impassivity had
been completely drained. N ow she smiled, conscious of
her power to control with the reins of lust, any male
w ho crossed her path. (pp. 69-70)
Marcela's new-found power, however, does not bring her
happiness. Having become aware of a life of "silk and
wool," she has used her sensuality to acquire such material
benefits; but she also is experiencing a genuine and pro
found love for Gertrudis. W hen Gertrudis proposes marriage,
Marcela's traditional values re-emerge, and she realizes
that her sexual promiscuity has disqualified her for a role
as a wife in her culture. Because of her love for Gertru
dis, then, she cannot possibly marry him and bring him dis
grace. Instead, she runs off with Mr. Johnson, the North
American engineer w ho has com e to build a dam on Julian's
147
hacienda.
Mr. Johnson sets up Marcela as his concubine in a small
apartment in town, leaving Gertrudis to pine away and Julian
to fum e at losing his favorite pleasure. The situation re
solves itself when Gertrudis overcomes his moral objection
to concubinage, and he himself moves in with Marcela. But
his traditional values strain the relationship. Their once
ideal love has moved from the .clean fields of the hacienda
to a ". . . coquettish little bedroom" (p. 168); Gertrudis
looks at Marcela and hardly recognizes a face painted with
cosmetics and a torso squeezed into queer lacings. His
Marcela is the one of the cotton rebozo, not this one in
black silk. The only moment of fulfillment for both lovers
comes when Gertrudis takes Marcela from those alien sur
roundings to their beloved plain: "They find a namelessly
quiet, lonely field. They are there now, on their beloved
earth, where they both might have gone on secretly dreaming
of their untold love . . ." (p. 17 0).
Anguish over this type of relationship finally over
comes Gertrudis. H e confesses and repents, makes Marcela do
likewise, and contracts to go to Texas again. Upon his
return, the two will be married properly, with his absence
serving the dual purpose of providing a financial start and
1 4 8
a period of abstinence and chastity for the couple.
In the meantime, Julian has set a death trap for Ger
trudis . While his henchmen implement this plan, Julian goes
to the city and forces himself on Marcela again. Despite
the fact that she has just left Gertrudis with the promise
of chastity, Marcela submits to the master's advances, be
cause "her ow n will is dead, all of her seems dead, she is
defenseless1 1 (p. 230). But after Julian has left, Marcela's
activism reappears:
Her soul begins to simmer and to seethe with the thou
sand bitternesses of all her race— hopelessly martyred,
unhappy breed of slaves. The mere thought of falling
again under the Andrade yoke maddens her. (pp. 230-
231)
N ow completely aware of the source of her oppression,
Marcela vacillates between trying to throw it off and sub
mitting to it. Realizing that Julian has had Gertrudis
murdered, Marcela awaits the master's next visit with the
idea of stabbing him. But she fails in this last, desper
ate attempt to throw off the yoke of subjugation. Her lunge
with the knife is "as hopeless as the lunge of a delirious
m an in a nightmare" (p. 239). The knife drops to the floor
as Marcela faints, and it is she w ho receives the fatal
knife-thrust from her smiling master.
Curiously, the novel does not end there, but with
149
another courtroom scene. Both Marcela and Gertrudis are
dead, and the annoyed judge is going through the motions of
an investigation. But in crimes involving master and peon,
Azuela leaves little doubt that the master will go unpun
ished. The author satirizes the judicial function by clos
ing the novel with a dialog between the indolent judge and
his spineless clerk. W hen the clerk suggests that the c ir
cumstances surrounding the dual deaths warrant some inves
tigation into the activities of Julian, he is severely
admonished:
"M y dear don Petronilo, is it possible that in twenty
years of working for m e I haven't been able to teach
you to hold your tongue about what is none of your
business? Really, you must be very stupid." (p. 242)
Don Petronilo, w ho has fluctuated between traditional
and modern values m any times in his capacity as clerk,
". . . feels like kneeling, to beg forgiveness for his fool
ish thoughts, to swear for the ten millionth time that he
will never again talk of what is beyond him" (pp. 243-244).
Through the characters in Marcela, Azuela's view of
provincial Mexican society on the eve of the Revolution can
be understood. W hen his characters are analyzed according
to the alienation framework, som e interesting insights into
the nature of the revolutionary conflict are provided. In
1 5 0
a sense, the conflict between Julian on one side and his
dependents, Marcela and Gertrudis, on the other represent a
microcosm of the rural Mexico that is about to become en
gulfed in a violent social upheaval. The conflict has been
described above as stemming from deviancy in the traditional
distribution of power. The political interactions of
patrones and peones have been described in terms of a
dominance-subjugation relationship in the traditional cul
ture. Julian, Marcela, and Gertrudis all deviate from that
norm of political behavior, and in their deviation can be
seen an explanation for the coming Revolution. In the fol
lowing analysis, the alienation framework is used to explore
the questions of how and w hy the three principals deviated
from the traditional culture of Mexico.
All three of the characters being analyzed lived in a
culture in which traditional values predominated; however,
the people of the hacienda were beginning to be exposed to
modern influences. M r. Johnson, for example, symbolized
the epitome of modern progress and technology, the North
American civil engineer. Although this character is never
seen or heard by the reader, his impact on the traditional
peasants is considerable. Most of the hacienda dependents
view him with fear. In building a dam, Mr. Johnson is
1 5 1
tampering with a natural environment that the peones view as
sacred, and they foresee the doom of their traditional
values in such changes. The peones are also hostile toward
Gertrudis, who in their view has com e back from the United
States with modern, "uppity" ways; Gertrudis is no longer a
"subject" in political orientation, and thus will com e to
"a bad end" according to the prophecy.
In both fiction and history, the fears of the peones
have proved to be well founded. The coming of "progress"
has spelled doom for traditional values and a traditional
way of life, and the superior ways of Gertrudis lead him to
a bad end and cause trouble for all the hacienda dependents.
Azuela will deal with the destruction of this traditional
world in later works.
Marcela at first is a subject like her fellow peones,
but during the course of the novel she changes by shedding
her subject orientation. While her fellow peones feared and
rejected the aspects of modernity that touched the hacienda,
Marcela is changed by them. For example, she consorts with
Gertrudis, the most modern of her peers; she becomes the
concubine of the Yankee engineer, w ho exposes her to all the
material glitter of the modern world; and she loses her
subject orientation in the courtroom, which is at least a
152
superficial modern structure placed in this provincial set
ting .
There would seem to be no question that Marcela's life
was altered by the influences of modernity. The important
question becomes: w hy was she susceptible when her fellow
peones rejected the same influences? Relying on the aliena
tion framework for a means of reference, and on Azuela's
intuitive understanding of his people, the character of
Marcela leads to several explanations for deviancy from the
traditional model.
First, Marcela differs from her peers in that she has
no immediate family. Azuela offers very little in the way
of background, but it is known that Marcela lives by her
self, and that her guardian has been her godfather, the
ancient Senor Pablo. B y not being exposed to the influences
of a strong family life, Marcela was not socialized by the
agency that is most influential in establishing values and
norms. Consequently, she would be more susceptible to
socialization from secondary sources, in this case the mod
ern influences described earlier.
Azuela ascribed to his heroine an unusual beauty and
sensuality, a circumstance which also contributed to her
deviancy from tradition. Marcela realizes her influence
153
over m en "lashed by desire" in the courtroom scene, and she
has become conscious of something quite significant in terms
of the political process. Marcela, in effect, has discov
ered a way in which she can articulate her interests in
realizing her hold over m en "whatever their rank or class."
With this consciousness, the dominance-subjugation rela
tionship cannot remain intact, whether one is speaking in
terms of national politics or the political relationship
between patron and peon. Marcela's achievement of an auto
nomous way to articulate interests will be conceptualized
here as being attributed to "exceptional ability." Since
the Spanish Conquest, Mexican society has always been open
to the point of allowing m en with exceptional ability to
actively influence their ow n future. In this sense, such
diverse figures as Benito Juarez and Marcela have something
in com m on: exceptional ability provided both with the means
to change their traditional roles.
A third circumstance that serves to explain Marcela's
deviancy will be conceptualized as a "demonstration effect."
Marcela comes into direct contact with people and structures
that "demonstrate" alternatives to traditional values. The
"effect" is the undermining of traditional values by exam
ple. Marcela's contact with Gertrudis, Mr. Johnson, and the
154
court was certainly more direct and more intimate than that
of her peers; consequently, their effect on her was greater.
Finally, Marcela was influenced by Julian's tentative
ness in their interactions. Her "master" failed to stab
her; and he even allowed himself to be slapped, falling to
his knees with a whimper in that dramatic confrontation.
The symbol of traditional dominance showed incredible weak
ness when threatened; and that reaction to an immediate
threat to the power relationship certainly influenced Mar
cela in making her aware of her ow n power. The erosion of
the dominance-subjugation relationship attributed to this
circumstance will be conceptualized as "elite weakness."
In summary, four circumstances are offered as explana
tions for Marcela's deviancy: lack of family influence,
exceptional ability, demonstration effect, and elite weak
ness . These variables are mutually supportive. The demon
stration of modern values, for example, will have great
effect on someone with exceptional ability; and the response
of the elite is more likely to be weak in the face of grow
ing demonstration effect and exceptional ability. In this
way the erosion of traditional values can gather m om entum
once started.
The deviancy of Gertrudis can be explained by these-
1 5 5
same concepts. Like Marcela, Gertrudis seems to be free
from any family influence. Azuela depicts him as a loner,
living apart from the other peones, with no mention of any
family or relatives. Gertrudis can be considered to hold
exceptional ability in that he is a groom, not a field
worker. His ability to break and ride horses is a skill
greatly admired by his masters and the townspeople; and this
esteem allows Gertrudis the privilege of his insolence going
unpunished. The dominance-sub j ugation relationship is fur
ther undermined each time Julian backs down in the face of
Gertrudis' insolence; and the weakness exhibited by the
patron encourages more insolence. There is a difference
between Gertrudis and Marcela in relation to the concept of
demonstration effect. Gertrudis himself represents the
demonstration of nontraditional behavior. That he is such
a demonstration can be explained chiefly by his sojourn in
the United States, where he would quite naturally be exposed
to different values. The other peones recognize the change
in Gertrudis themselves, seeing him as having a "chip on his
shoulder." This circumstance will be conceptualized as an
"exogenous experience," meaning that changes in Gertrudis'
values derived from external contacts. A n important ques
tion i s : what motivated Gertrudis to go to the United
156
States? Azuela does not develop the character of Gertrudis
in a way that allows the reader to understand the groom's
motivations. It seems reasonable to assume, however, that
Gertrudis experienced a demonstration effect from someone
within his community. That, coupled with the circumstances
described above, would seem to be more than enough to pro
vide him with the motivation to contract out as a laborer.
Julian's deviancy has to be viewed from the other side
of the dominance-subjugation relationship. A s a master,
Julian's dominance should be coupled with bravery and bene
volence . These are the moral checks on the otherwise abso
lute power of the master* and the failure to be brave or
benevolent represents an important deviation from the tra
ditional model. Julian and the other members of the Andrade
family demonstrate a complete lack of these two attributes.
In fact, the cowardice and malevolence of Julian are recur
ring themes throughout the novel.
Julian's family background offers an important explana
tion for his deviancy from traditional values. Azuela has
inserted into the novel the background information that the
Andrade lineage actually does not extend back to the Spanish
masters. Senor Pablo, the elder am ong the peones. reveals
that the Andrades were actually a gang of opportunistic
157
bandits w ho acquired their land through murder and treach
ery; furthermore, the land was available only because of the
Reform Law s of Benito Juarez. In this way Azuela perceived
the changes in land tenure stemming from the Reform as an
influence in the breakdown of the feudal system. Land was
taken from the "traditional" ancestral masters, w ho passed
down through the family the values of dominance with bene
volence; and it was given to m en like the Andrades, w ho
adopted the power of the masters but not the responsibili
ties .
Contributing also to Julian's deviancy is the demon
stration of progress on surrounding farmlands. H e hires
the American engineer to build a dam, the object being to
make the lands more productive. Thus materialism and profit
replace the traditional characteristics of spiritualism and
subsistence, and the code of behavior required of a tradi
tional master begins to break down.
Thus all three of the characters analyzed above can be
given similar cultural classifications: they are basically
traditional individuals w ho have just begun to develop an
awareness of options to traditional culture. In terms of
social institutions and the political process, this aware
ness has disrupted their traditional political expectations,
1 5 8
but they seem not to have established any modern expecta
tions either. Julian demonstrates alienation from the
political process because he s till holds some traditional
expectations. H e sees himself as losing control of the out
put functions, for example, in the courtroom scenes. Even
though the masters have nothing to fear from the courts
because it is the landed elite w ho s till control the input
functions, the simple fact that another agency now controls
the adjudication process is a threat. Julian, for example,
feels alienated in that he cannot murder Gertrudis in cold
blood as in the good old days, because the "... cursed
government has gotten so it collects for every dead pup"
(p. 2 04 ) .
Both Gertrudis and Marcela have rejected the tradi
tional method of articulating interests, which in their case
consisted of using the eldest dependent, Senor Pablo, or
some other peon with access to the master's house, to a rti
culate their interests in the form of a petition to the
patron. But they have found alternative methods of interest
articulation; Marcela learns to exploit her sensuality, and
Gertrudis uses his bravery, toughness, and riding ability.
Of course these methods are deviant in terms of the norms of
the community. In order to articulate their interests, the
1 59
pair must alienate themselves from the political culture and
structures that exist on the hacienda and in the town. They
are no longer contented with being subjects and dealing with
nonassociational, sacred structures. But in violating, and
even rejecting, the norms of their culture, they have ex
perienced the affective states of normlessness and isola
tion. Both are physically as well as emotionally isolated
from their community. They m ove from the hacienda to the
town; but of course they cannot be contented in those sor
did, materialistic surroundings. Gertrudis tries to guide
them back to the ethical standards that they rejected, but
to no avail; and Marcela, "her ow n will dead," ranges in
behavior from violence to apathy in submitting to Julian's
final attack and then planning to k ill him.
Julian also experiences feelings of normlessness. H e
is conscious that he is not adhering to the norms expected
of a patron. Azuela deals directly, but only briefly, with
this mental process. After killing the first peon, Julian
struggles briefly with his conscience:
For a while the meaning of his cowardly act struggled
toward the surface of his consciousness; a sense of his
crime stirred in the depth of his heart. But the strug
gle was unequal; m uch greater forces . . . came to his
rescue. The notion of his moral wretchedness flickered
and disappeared as do the ripples and widening circles
in a pool, . . . (pp. 43-44)
160
This probe into the depths of Julian's mental state is
brief and not followed through; but perhaps it is the first
such probe in Mexican fiction. The fact that any conscious
ness of moral wretchedness on the part of the master dis
appeared illustrates Azuela's view that Mexico cannot look
to the past for a solution to her social problems. Modern
influences are eroding the traditional dominance-subjugation
relationship by making the dominant become increasingly
malevolent and by giving the subjugated the modern expecta
tion of participation.
Thus Azuela perceived the inevitable collision and
eventual destruction of traditional Mexico in his early
novels. From his middle-class vantage point, Azuela under
stood the forces at work in Mexico better than his literary
and political peers. These novels represent the application
of his creative genius to an interpretation of his society;
and events of the next decade will serve to establish the
validity of his interpretation as well as the genius of his
creative talent.
The Failures and Marcela represent a watershed in the
literary history of Mexico. Azuela's characters, Resendez,
Father Cabezudos, Marcela, Gertrudis, and Julian are indi
viduals of the Renaissance. Four centuries of transition
from medieval to Renaissance values ends with the individual
sovereignty expressed by ex-serfs and ex-lords that populate
these two novels. Azuela's people also exemplify aliena
tion, for that is the inevitable price of identity as an
individual. That the renaissant value of individual iden
tity, and its complement alienation, can be seen as a devia
tion from the norm illustrates that the Renaissance has only
just begun. But in the next decade the values associated
with this and the other Western watersheds will sweep Mexico
with violent speed.
CHAPTER VI
A Z U E L A A N D T H E R E V O L U T IO N
In his early novels, Mariano Azuela correctly foresaw
that tradition and modernity were on a collision course in
Mexico. In the works just discussed, Azuela makes his im
pression clear that the traditional Mexico is doomed. Less
clear in these works is just what will take its place, for
Azuela is consistently pessimistic about the chances of
modern values becoming the prevailing norms of Mexican
society.
Just as Azuela anticipated the Revolution in his pre-
1910 novels, he will now anticipate the sociological sig
nificance of the Revolution to which he is an eyewitness.
Azuela will write six novels during the course of the
struggle, a body of work which has literary importance be
cause it initiates what has com e to be known in literary
history as "the Novel of the Revolution." It has socio
logical importance because Azuela, just as he perceived the
162
revolutionary confrontation before its occurrence, now fore
sees not only the outcome but the impact of the Revolution
on Mexico's future. In his pre-revolutionary novels, he has
already m ade it clear that traditional Mexico will lose its
dominance, and he conceptualized the struggle as a truly
revolutionary one, which is remarkable in itself: social
scientists of the day did not correctly perceive the monu
mental nature of the events of this decade until some time
later. In the first two works of this cycle, Andres Perez,
maderista and The Bosses, Azuela makes it clear that the
values of the amalgamated intellectual will not prevail
either. In The Underdogs and The Flies, Azuela presents
the "successes" of the Revolution, that is, the cultural
group that will emerge from the struggle as the dominant
political force. This proves to be an intermediate group,
one that exhibits a mixture of modern and traditional values
and is therefore conceptualized as the "amalgamated" bour
geoisie. In the last two works of this cycle, Domitilio
W ants to B e a Congressman and Trials of a Decent Family.
Azuela begins to explore the impact of the culture of the
amalgamated bourgeoisie on the life of the individual.
W hat occurred in Mexico between 1910 and 192 0 is uni
versally considered to be a genuine revolution. It was a
164
true revolution because it encompassed a change in the
values and norms governing access to political* economic*
and social influence. These new values incorporated what
has been described previously as modern values* which in
turn have been linked to major watersheds in Western his
tory. Thus the Renaissance brought to Western societies
those values associated with individual sovereignty; and
the philosophical* economic* and scientific revolutions of
the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries brought values
associated with societal participation and economic materi
alism. In Mexico* these watersheds and their corresponding
values were artificially imposed on Western enclaves* and
their limited impact on Mexican culture was illustrated by
the use of the terms naissance* political ignition* and
industrial revolt.
B y 1900* the Mexican environment was becoming increas
ingly less favorable to traditional values, and the events
that began in 1910 represent a revolutionary rejection of
those values. But the next* and more difficult* question
becomes: what replaced the traditional values that were
destroyed by the Revolution as the dominant values of M ex
ico? Quite obviously* the watershed modern values did not
emerge as the ones controlling access to power. Mexico was
165
s till not Europe, and there could be no blanket adoption of
values that evolved from Europe. A m ong other things, Mexico
was not a homogeneous society, she had no long evolution of
limited political participation, and her industrialization
was not based on an agricultural surplus. Francisco Madero
of the real world and Resendez of Azuela's created reality
symbolize the futility and the failure of the relatively
modern values of the amalgamated intellectuals to become
dominant in revolutionary Mexico.
In the same way, Victoriano Huerta and Father Cabezudos
symbolize the futility of turning back to tradition. If
that had happened, there would have been not a revolution,
but a rebellion, a simple exchange of authority without a
change in values.
If the premise is accepted that the Revolution repre
sents the end of dominance for traditional values and at the
same time the failure of modern values to achieve dominance,
the values of the group that did emerge as the new leaders
of Mexico must be classified by using concepts that are
neither traditional nor modern. The triumphant revolution
aries, m en like Alvaro Obregon and Plutarco Elias Calles,
must ow e their emergence as national leaders, at least in
part, to the fact that they epitomized the "right" values
1 66
and norms to a significant part of the national population;
and it is hard to imagine that a political leader of the
192 0s could have achieved power if he reflected anything
close to either pole of the cultural continuum.
W hat were the values, then, of the new power holders
and their supporters? In an attempt to answer this ques
tion, Mariano Azuela's six novels of the revolution will be
analyzed according to the alienation framework. Based on
the novelist's created characters and created social real
ity, the values and norms governing access to power will be
conceptualized. From that basis political alienation am ong
those individuals who reflect discrepant values, as well as
those w ho hold the values of the dominant but are neverthe
less not fulfilling their expectations, can be studied.
The use of Azuela's novels in this manner will, it is
hoped, illustrate how the artist, through his creative
genius, can add insights and dimensions to the social sci
ence analysis of a problem. Such internalized phenomena as
values, norms, expectations, and feelings are difficult at
best to analyze with social science data, and the a rtist's
explorations of the individual m ay complement the scien
tis t's generalizations.
This chapter m ay also serve to illustrate again the
167
predictive powers of the artist. Just as he foresaw the
monumental collision that was shaping up in Mexico before
1910., Azuela is anticipating the eventual outcome of the
Revolution as early as 1911. This points out a significant
difference in the work of the artist as opposed to the work
of the scientist: the former attempts to anticipate what
will happen, while the latter tries to interpret what has
happened. It should be kept in mind that the greatest
attention in this analysis of Azuela's works will be devoted
to his intuitions regarding the eventual impact of the Revo
lution on Mexico and Mexicans.
The Failure of the Amalgamated
Intellectual
Andres Perez, maderista
From a literary standpoint, Andres Perez is by no means
a great novel; in fact, it has been judged by more than one
critic as an artistic failure.^ The chief criticism of the
work centers on the scarcity of genuine, we1 1-developed
characters. Only two stand out, the protagonist whose nam e
gives the book its title , and his best friend, Tono Reyes.
■ ^See, for example, Brushwood, pp. 170-171.
168
It is the feeling here that these two characters m ake the
work a rtistic a lly valuable, and there is no question am ong
critic s that it has considerable sociological interest.
Andres Perez is universally considered the firs t novel of
the Revolution. This is remarkable enough, in that Azuela
chose this event as the subject of a novel almost as it w as
happening. But even more remarkable is Azuela's treatment
of that subject. Even as Francisco Madero was winning his
firs t battles in the north, Azuela selected as his major
theme the problem that has plagued every revolutionary
regime from Madero's to the current PRI administration:
that is, the betrayal of the ideals of the Revolution. The
problem that Azuela saw and wanted to explore in his art has
2
remained a major theme for Mexican novelists ever since.
In order to develop his theme of betrayal, Azuela
creates contrasting characters. Both Andres and Tono are
modern men; both are affluent, with Tono being wealthier;
both are well-educated intellectuals; and they have been
close friends since school days. In spite of these
2
See especially the works of such contemporary novel
ists as Juan Rulfo (Pedro Paramo) and Carlos Fuentes (W here
the Air Is Clear, G ood Conscience, and The Death of Artemio
Cruz) .
169
sim ilarities of circumstance, the two m en react in totally
opposite ways to the growing turmoil caused by Madero's
northern successes: Tono arms himself to fight for the
ideals raised under the Madero banner and is killed in his
firs t skirmish; Andres, on the other hand, cynically betrays
the ideals for which his friend died in exploiting the
situation for his ow n personal gain.
Azuela includes personages from the traditional group
and the intermediate group as well; and they serve to
heighten the sense of betrayal that Azuela is trying to
establish, for they a ll are clamoring to hop aboard the
victorious Madero bandwagon in order to save their ow n
skins, their fortunes, and their careers. But not one of
these characters stands out. They remain shadowy types in
the background w ho round out Azuela's pessimistic picture
of the future course of the Revolution. The picture's focal
point, however, remains the amalgamated intellectual.
Azuela is predicting in 1911 that i t is this group, to which
he himself belonged and which the Revolution needed so des
perately, that w ill mortally wound the modern ideals of the
Revolution by its acts of betrayal.
B y occupation, Andres Perez is a journalist for a lead
ing newspaper in Mexico City. Azuela establishes in the
1 7 0
opening pages that his protagonist is successful but dis
pirited and b itte r. His mental state is a result of his
role as an "owned" reporter in the Diaz-controlled press.
From his luxurious downtown apartment, Andres and his fash
ionable mistress, Luz, are watching the capital being m ade
festive for the ceremonies that will mark the republic's
one hundredth anniversary. His sarcastic comment on the
elaborate preparations indicates that Andres has achieved
his position of prestige and influence at the expense of his
ow n convictions: "At least the diplomatic corps will be
satisfied as to the overflowing prosperity of the inhabi-
3
tants of the Mexican republic." His attitude toward the
regime becomes even more evident a short time later when he
witnesses a brutal attack by the police against a demonstra
tion by som e defenseless students. H e sits dow n to write
the story as he saw it, but an automatic impulse makes him
destroy the true story. H e rewrites his report, reversing
the roles of students and police.
Andres submits his falsified story to the editor, an
ardent porfirista, but he cannot resist lashing out, quite
3 ✓
Mariano Azuela, Andres P^rez, maderista (Mexico City:
Ediciones Botas, 1945), p. 5.
171
uncharacteristically, at the regime that has exacted such a
sacrifice of his values. H e blasts his employer with a
b itte r anti-Diaz diatribe and then goes hom e to another
night made restless by his subversion of the truth. For
tuitous ly, he awakens to find that he has received an invi
tation from Toiio Reyes to spend some time on his old school
friend's hacienda. Andres is thankful for the opportunity
to leave the capital that has "... sickened m e, that has
wounded me, that has m e mortally bored" (p. 12) .
U pon arriving at the hacienda, Andres is disconcerted
to find that Tono is in declining health and that he and
Tono's wife are attracted to each other. The frequent
political discussions complicate the situation even more.
In their student days, both Andres and Tono had been p o liti
cal radicals; but now Andres, w ho had been a firebrand mak
ing frequent harangues from balconies, has hired himself out
to the Diaz government in return for money. W hen Tono and
his friends excitedly talk of Madero's military successes
and the coming of democracy to Mexico, Andres enters the
discussions only to show scorn and contempt for Madero and
his ideals. Later on, Andres becomes apathetic. H e is
". . . the Indian holy m an before w hom a ll human events are
unworthy of the least attention" (p. 41). But Andres is
172
snapped out of his lethargy when an order comes for his
arrest. His b rief outburst of ideals at his editor's office
had led to the editor informing Diaz' secret police. N o w
that the tide of maderismo was rising, the jumpy Diaz regime
was arresting suspicious types, and the editor had accused
Andres of being a Madero spy w ho had com e to the hacienda
to promote a general uprising. Ironically, nothing is fur
ther from the truth regarding the cynical, apathetic Andres.
But the rumor grows that Andres is a Madero agent, and
despite his protestations, the local maderistas insist upon
considering Andres their leader.
The more Andres denies any role in the movement, the
more convinced are the local maderistas that he is a high-
ranking leader w ho must maintain his "cover." Soon bands
of armed peasants begin reporting to Andres, to w ho m they
have given the tit le "chief of the liberating forces."
Andres, whose vocal scorn of maderismo through a ll this
activity has only served to reassure his "followers" of his
importance, finally sees a chance to cash in on their mis
take. H e has been given 1,000 pesos by the locals with
which he is to buy arms; but Andres puts on a disguise and
attempts to get to the United States, where he can use the
m oney for his ow n pleasure. Even this plan, however, serves
173
to enhance his image as a maderista. H e is recognized and
arrested at the train station by the porfirista police, and
his incarceration only increases his stature in the eyes of
his followers.
With great sk ill, Azuela contrasts his two characters
to illu strate the complete betrayal of the revolutionary
movement at its very inception. The idealistic Tono Reyes
immediately plans an uprising in order to liberate his
friend and "comrade in arms" from ja il. Ironically, Andres
has found comfort and safety in his role as a prisoner:
"Since m y arrest, I feel that I finally have the security
and peace that I needed" (p. 86). During these weeks in
custody he has time to reflect on his situation and on the
coming revolution, and at the end of this mental process he
comes to a completely negative and cynical conclusion:
This revolution is not now, nor can it ever be, any
thing more than a lie , an enormous lie . People have
always spilled their blood to rid their flesh of the
vampires w ho feast on it, but a ll they ever accomplish
is to substitute new vampires for the old ones. Emper
ors, Popes, kings, presidents, their nam e doesn't mat
ter, they are and always have been the same. It is the
law of life that the strong devour the weak and become
even stronger in so doing. That is the w ay it always
has been and always w ill be. (p. 90)
W hen Tono is killed leading the charge to free the
cynical and reluctant prisoner, the sense of betrayal and
174
defeat is complete. Tono's death has been utterly meaning
less and points out the absurdity of adhering to ideals .
Azuela even implies that there is a touch of madness in
Tono's idealism. H e is dying of tuberculosis, and he seems
to be seeking a martyr's death through his p o litical activ i
ties .
Andres is not unaffected by his friend's sacrifice. H e
begins to have pangs of conscience over his cynicism and
selfishness, and in retrospect he admires Tono for dying for
his ideals. With Tono's m em ory spurring him on, Andres
becomes a colonel in the Madero movement. W hen the Diaz
forces are finally overthrown, Andres arrives at a cross
roads in his life , a struggle within his conscience between
idealism and opportunism. Should he work for the ideals of
the new regime, or should he take advantage of his position
in that regime for his ow n personal gain? After an agoniz
ing period of soul-searching, Andres makes his decision. H e
looks around and notices that, within a few weeks, the same
people w ho controlled the town under Diaz are back in con
tro l and a ll the idealists are dead. Only now the porfi-
ristas were shouting "Viva Madero!" Nothing had really
changed, so Andres determines to use the Revolution oppor
tunistically .
175
B y having his protagonist struggle with his conscience,
Azuela makes the sense of betrayal particularly devastating.
It is one thing for the "middle group" of minor officials to
become selfish and corrupt, for they lack ideals in the
firs t place. But Andres understands and believes in the
modern ideals of Madero. His subversion of those ideals is
a particularly crushing blow to the Revolution, for in tel
lectual leadership is precisely what the movement needed in
order to give it an ideological direction.
Azuela ends the novel with an ironic touch that brings
the theme of ideological betrayal dow n to the personal
level. Andres had been wrestling with an additional dilemma
of conscience during this moral c risis. H e has coveted
Tono's wife from his firs t moments at the hacienda, but the
m em ory of his slain friend had prevented him from taking
advantage of her widowhood. But the novel ends with Andres
hesitating a m om ent on her doorstep— and then entering.
Idealism has been completely b elittled and defeated by
opportunism.
W hen Andres and his interactions with his environment
are analyzed according to the alienation framework, a logi
cal explanation for his feelings is produced. Andres can
certainly be placed toward the modern end of the cultural
176
continuum in m any respects: he is well educated* cosmo
politan* and a professional in a modern occupation* and he
naturally favors the values in the modern model over those
in the traditional. Azuela does not provide m uch detail as
to how or w hy Andres learned modern values. The only back
ground given on Andres is that he went to the state prepara
tory school (where he met Tono). A s has been the case with
several of Azuela's modern protagonists* there is no mention
of a family life for Andres; he lives in an apartment with
his m istress. In spite of the skimpy biographical informa
tion presented on Andres* his adherence to modern standards
seems to be consistent with his intellectual capabilities
and with the environment in which he liv es.
Andres is both socially and psychologically alienated.
There is indeed a great discrepancy between what he thinks
he should be— an independent journalist printing the truth*
and what he is — a reporter in the pay of the regime w ho has
reached the stage where he destroys the truth by automatic
impulse. In spite of the social prestige and material
affluence that Andres has acquired* he is alienated from the
society in which he has been so successful. In fact* he
cannot wait to flee the city that has sickened* wounded*
and bored him.
177
In p o litical orientation, Andres expects to be a par
ticipant] but in don Porfirio's capital, the dominance-
subjugation relationship, which requires a subject orienta
tion, is s t i l l operational. Specifically, Andres is alien
ated from the communications function of the p o litical
process, that is, the ways in which the various activities
of the p olitical process are communicated to society. A s a
modern man, Andres expects the press, a communications
structure, to be autonomous in nature and secular in style]
but as a professional journalist, he knows that the press is
subordinate to the regime and operates in a sacred style.
During the frequent p olitical discussions at Tono's dinner
table, Andres breaks his apathetic silence only to comment
on the role of the press, stating that the "... government
lets only those newspapers exist that are in its pay" (p.
22) and on the 1 1 . . . insolence, the evil and the cynicism
of those writers for hire" (p. 22).
Andres experiences the feeling of alienation as an
affective state. H e feels powerless to influence the proc
ess in which he must violate his norms and values. His
feelings of normlessness and powerlessness lead him a lte r
nately into withdrawal and opportunism. H e withdraws by
fleeing from the city that is wounding him, and on the
178
hacienda he withdraws into himself like an Indian holy man.
His desire to escape even leads to his longing to stay in
the security of the ja il. O n the other hand, Andres emerges
from his apathy when he is finally overwhelmed by the norm-
less behavior that is associated with the Madero revolt.
Tono was the only person he knew w ho was motivated by some
thing other than personal gain. All the other maderistas
were acting out of opportunism: the foreman on Tono's haci
enda is an active mader is t a because his family's hacienda
had been taken by p o rfiristas; other peasants are ready to
fight because they have discovered that they pay as m uch in
taxes on their small plots as do the hacendados; and a ll the
government officials have merely switched uniforms in order
to maintain their positions, and improve them if the oppor
tunity appears. The only element of the rural population
that foresaw no opportunity in the Revolution, because they
had no material stake to protect, were the peones from the
neighboring haciendas. A nd their response was to ". . .
begin digging holes in which to hide when the revolution
comes" (p. 50).
W hat maderismo has com e to be in practical terms is an
opportunity, for those w ho will take it, to articulate and
to aggregate their interests; it has l i t tl e , if anything,
179
to do with the p o litical and social ideals that the Apostle
of Democracy was espousing. The norms and values underlying
the input functions had been traditional, that is, performed
through nonassociational structures in a sacred style.
Maderismo simply offered the opportunity to influence the
input functions in a more direct, autonomous way. O f course
the norms and values associated with maderismo were not
established in any of the townspeople except Tono. The
result was interest articulation in a manner that w as un
influenced by either traditional or modern values, or, in
short, anomic interest articulation.
The general breakdown in social norms with the coming
of maderismo, and the subsequent possibility of anomic in
terest articulation, explains the opportunism of virtually
everyone in the town. Andres finally succumbs to the pre
vailing normlessness, and his opportunism is accompanied by
a deep cynicism. H e is a cynical opportunist because he can
conceptualize this normlessness against his knowledge of
modern values. H e knows that this is not the "right" wayj
but he also feels that the right w ay is not possible in his
environment. H e is alienated from that environment, which
includes the p o litical process. H e experiences that aliena
tion as a feeling of normlessness. Before the coming of
180
maderismo, Andres experienced the feeling of powerlessness,
which manifested its e lf in apathy and withdrawal. Maderismo
has resulted in the replacement of that feeling with the
feeling of normlessness; and opportunism can be seen as a
manifestation of that feeling in Andres' behavior.
Thus for Azuela the term maderismo translates into
normlessness, cynicism, and opportunism. It is in this
sense that Azuela's ironic title can be understood: Andres
Perez, maderista.
The Bosses
With his next work, Mariano Azuela continued to in ter
pret the events that were shaking Mexico almost as they
happened. H e finished writing The Bosses in June of 1914,
shortly after Pancho V illa's Northern Division had taken
Zacatecas. The action in his novel begins with the over
throw of Diaz, extends through the Madero presidency of
1912-13 and the huertista counterrevolution, and ends with
a popular army taking the town from the huertista authori
ties .
The Bosses, then, is virtually an eyewitness report of
events: Azuela observed, passed those observations through
his imagination, and recorded the resulting created reality,
181
with little chance for reflection. Such an instantaneous
creative process did not produce a great novel. The major
fault with The Bosses is its lack of a protagonist, or any
genuine character for that matter. But the "types1 1 that
Azuela creates add valuable insight to the author's view of
the infant Revolution. Azuela demonstrates the impact that
the Revolution had on these types, rich and poor alike; but
more importantly, he continues to demonstrate, as he did in
Andres Perez, the impact of these types on the Revolution.
The personages that appear in The Bosses cover the
whole spectrum of cultural values, from traditional to m od
ern. The most traditional group consists of the town
bosses, a ll members of the Del Llano family. In spite of
the fact that the setting is a fair-sized city, this one
family of caciques (bosses) is completely dominant. O ne
brother has large land holdings, another controls the com
merce in the city, and the third brother is the town p riest.
The bourgeois class forms the largest group of person
ages in the novel. The members of this group tend to be
less traditional than the bosses, but they are by no means
modern in the cultural values they display. They are the
small businessmen, the merchants, the service personnel of
the city. D on Juan Vinas, owner of a small grocery store,
182
is the closest thing to a protagonist in the work, and one
of Azuela's most pathetic types. Born a humble peon, he has
worked hard, saved scrupulously, and has ended up with the
best grocery in town and a savings account of 40,000 pesos.
But he is completely controlled by the Del Llanos, even to
the point that "he had no opinions. M ore accurately, his
4
opinions were those of the senores, w ho knew."
D on Juan's subordination to the bosses is different in
degree, but not in kind, from that of the other middle-class
types, with one single exception: Rodriguez, a lowly clerk
in a local sto re. H e is the only person w ho is not con
trolled by the bosses; but unfortunately Azuela does not
give a satisfactory explanation for his independence and
his relative modernity. All that is known about Rodriguez
(like Resendez, his given nam e is never used) is that he is
forty years old, he has been a poor clerk in the same store
for twenty-five years, and he is a reader of books. W hen
chastised by don Juan for "... wasting your time reading
books and papers that lead you nowhere . . (p. 163),
Rodriguez replies with this self-judgment: " M y interior
4
Mariano Azuela, T w o Novels of Mexico: The Flies, The
Bosses, trans . Lesley Byrd Simpson (Berkeley: Univ. of
California Press, 1956), p. 163.
183
world does not correspond to the real world, or, what
amounts to the same thing, I'm unadaptable, a failure" (p.
163) .
Rodriguez' frequent denouncements of the Diaz regime,
of caciquismo, and of capitalism are about the only things
that ever interrupt the tranquillity of the town: his ora
tory had always been largely ignored, but with the in itia l
successes of don Francisco Madero that began to change.
Soon there w as a "Twentieth of November Club" in town, named
in honor of the date on which the Madero movement began.
N o w Rodriguez had an attentive audience, and more and more
shouts of "Viva Madero, death to the caciques" were being
heard.
The triumph and subsequent election of Madero shatters
the tranquillity of the town and sets the two groups against
each other. Heady with victory, the middle-class townsmen
nominate and elect a new town council. For the firs t time,
working people are sittin g in the seats of power, where Del
Llanos have always sat! The response of the caciques is
predictable:
The m ob has w on the election. W hat impudence. I t's
unheard of. W here are w e going to land if this keeps
up? This means the paralysis of business, the death
of commerce, industry and agriculture. The end of re
spect for society, family, and religion. (pp. 138-139)
184
It turns out that the caciques have nothing to fear.
The new leaders, after celebrating their victory and the
victory of the "revolution," com e back to reality . They are
all businessmen, and they begin to wonder what a ll this in
stability will do to prices. Besides, they a ll depend on
the Del Llanos in one w ay or another. It is decided that it
would be prudent not to incur the wrath of the bosses . Only
Rodriguez keeps up the attack. His pronouncements become
more radical, even to the point of stating that property is
robbery and religion is a myth. The increasingly uncomfort
able revolutionaries decide to disassociate themselves from
Rodriguez: "The Most Illustrious Council for 1912 does not
share the irreverent views about Society, Religion, and
Country that Senior Rodriguez expressed in his speech on the
Sixteenth of September" (p. 155).
Rodriguez is disillusioned by the actions of the fear
ful, intimidated "revolutionaries," and he predicts Madero's
demise, blaming on these "... faithful copies of the cul
tured and wealthy classes" (p. 147). H e has one final
m om ent of glory, however, which is the best scene in the
novel. The Madero government has sent its hand-picked can
didate for state office to the Twentieth of November Club
meeting. This pretentious m an proceeds to te ll the
185
townspeople that high politics is one thing they should not
bother their heads about, and that they should content them
selves with electing a town council, ". . . which is all
you've got to do with government" (p. 158) . Rodriguez gives
a memorable reply:
The honorable candidate of the government . . . has
brought us the cheering news that w e provincials are
little better than idiots. . . .We'd like you to te ll
your colleagues that w e barbarians in the provinces have
taken the liberty of forming our ow n opinions about them.
W e think that the most ignominious depravity that the
Revolution of 1910 has exposed is an abject intellectual
class that drag their bellies through the mire and lick
the boots of everyone in high places. . . . The ignorant
poor com m and our admiration; the intelllectuals m ake us
hold our nosesi (p. 159)
Rodriguez receives thunderous applause for his speech,
but no action. The maderistas continue to be coopted by the
bosses . D on Juan Vinas is the supreme example of subordina
tion. H e has been convinced by the Del Llanos to invest his
savings in a scheme to build som e low-cost housing units,
the materials for which he will buy from the Del Llanos, of
course. The savings are eventually used up, don Juan mort
gages his grocery store to the Del Llanos to raise more
cash, and he ends up by losing everything. Broken hearted,
he dies, never understanding how he has been exploited by
the Del Llanos.
W hen Madero is killed, the agents of Victoriano Huerta
186
take control of the town. Rodriguez and a few more of the
most vocal maderistas are rounded up and shot, and life
seems to be back to normal. Maderismo has com e and gone.
It w as a vague thing, belonging to som e distant place more
than to this town; and it was the maderistas themselves w ho
failed to establish maderismo.
Azuela ends this work with a disturbing scene, a sug
gestion of Thermidor after the regime of moderates and the
counterrevolution. A peasant army enters the town, herald
ing the downfall of Huerta. D on Juan Vinas' two children
watch the shooting, looting, and drinking for awhile; then
the young son impulsively steals a can of gasoline. His
sister understands his intentions, and the two of them set
fire to the huge Del Llano building that dominates the town
plaza. D on Juan had died without becoming conscious of the
caciquismo that ruined him, but his children understand and
have sought revenge. Both the children and the army of
peasants appear to have broken out of the dominance-
subjugation relationship that had so effectively stifled the
urban, middle-class maderista movement. In his on-the-spot
interpretation of events, Azuela has perceived the failure
of maderismo. The bourgeoisie and proletariat are, if any
thing, even more dependent on the caciques; and the
187
intellectuals are "licking the boots of everyone in high
places." A nd the few people w ho have conceptualized the
problem of caciquismo, and its only solution, the destruc
tion of the bosses by revolution, are dead.
In addition to his instant analysis of maderismo,
Azuela continues to look ahead. Maderista ideals have
failed to take root; but the popular army is pillaging the
town with blind fury, and the symbol of caciquismo, the Del
Llano building, has been put to the torch. Azuela sees the
town being engulfed in a violence that is motivated by re
venge, not by the democratic ideals of don Francisco. H e is
anticipating the destruction that w ill sweep through Mexico,
and that he will portray in his greatest novel, The Under
dogs .
Azuela's failure to fully develop any of the personages
in The Bosses limits its usefulness as a source for studying
individual alienation; however, his interpretation of the
impact of national events on a middle-sized northern city
during the period of the Madero presidency is interesting
and valuable.
Azuela sees maderismo as an alien force in this pro
vincial city. The relatively modern p olitical values asso
ciated with the Madero movement must stem from, and be
188
integrated with, modern cultural values to be successful.
A nd the urban middle class of the city is s t i l l as m uch
traditional as modern. D on Juan Viiias, for example, acts
remarkably like a serf in his relations with the "liege
lords," the Del Llano brothers. Even though he seems to be
a "modern" entrepreneur, his values are s t i l l partly tra d i
tional. H e firmly believes that wealth comes through Divine
Providence, and therefore economic power proves merit: the
"good nam e of a house is locked up in its strongbox" (p.
106). W hen he finally goes bankrupt, he cannot associate
his downfall with the caciques: "Y ou mustn't say such
things. I t's the will of God. W h o are w e to oppose the
working of His Divine Providence?" (p. 182). The most
pathetic scene of the novel has don Juan desperately trying
to find an explanation for his business failure within the
framework of his traditional value structure: "D on Juan, in
fact, could accuse himself of no formal sin whatever, and
his sad eyes gazed uncomprehendingly at the bundle of b ills"
(p. 183). His values are a blend of traditional and modern,
and he can be classified as an amalgamated bourgeois.
D on Timoteo, the newly elected head of the Illustrious
T ow n Council, presents another example of how out of place
the equalitarian values of maderismo are in this setting.
189
Timoteo has replaced the Del Llano family as the political
leader, but the change is obviously superficial. In his new
role the storekeeper tries to imitate the behavior and m an
nerisms of the deposed caciques. His greatest problem comes
when he meets the cacique on the narrow sidewalk, and one
m an must give way: "... could he, as president of the
Most Illustrious Council, representative of the sovereign
people, step aside for a cacique?: caramba!" (p. 149).
Timoteo continues to debate with himself: he does not want
to show servility, but on the other hand no good can com e of
offending the caciques. The cacique passes, and Timoteo
rationalizes: "Did don Ignacio shove m e off the sidewalk?
I think he did. But then, did he do so absent-mindedly, or
was it a premeditated act?" (p. 149).
Rodriguez is the only individual w ho exhibits modern
values, and he is completely out of place in this environ
ment. H e ends up by being rejected by his peers, and he in
turn rejects them.
The middle class of the town have moved away from tra
ditional norms. They have been exposed to exogenous p o liti
cal socialization and recruitment influences, but they have
not lost their subject orientation. The impact of these
maderista influences on the p o litical process can be seen in
190
the output functions. N ew structures have been created that
give the middle class control of rule-making and rule-
enforcing functions; but this "control" is meaningless,
because the bosses s t i l l control completely the input func
tions and structures. In this way both groups have adjusted
to the changes brought by maderismo. Their adjustment takes
into account the existing values and p olitical culture, and
consequently no political alienation is present. Even the
nam e given to the new p o litical structure suggests that
maderismo has been adapted into this environment. The new
p olitical structure is called the "Illustrious" T ow n Coun
c il. It is definitely not a "People's" T ow n Council, in
nam e or in the w ay it functions.
Against this atmosphere of integration, Rodriguez
stands out as an alienated individual. The weakness of the
novel is that Azuela does not explain why. The only known
circumstances that might have contributed to his adoption
of modern values are his lack of family and his reading of
books. B y his actions he demonstrates a participant orien
tation. H e expects the political process to function in a
modern manner and sty le . The discrepancy between his ex
pectations and the objective situation alienates him from
his community. H e experiences a feeling of powerlessness as
191
he sees his p olitical ideals, embodied in maderismo, being
subverted. In terms of political behavior, his response to
the feeling of alienation is increased p olitical activism.
H e withdraws socially from his peers while continuing to
attack the evils and injustices of his society through
speeches and newspaper articles, and his activism eventually
results in his death.
Rodriguez is a fascinating type am ong Azuela's people.
H e is something of a proletarian intellectual who, like the
upper-class intellectual Tono Reyes, remains true to his
revolutionary ideals. H e would seem to be the logical pro
tagonist of The Bosses, but Azuela never chooses to m ake
protagonists of the individuals w ho remain truly revolu
tionary .
The Flies
U p to this point, Azuela's novels have been described
and analyzed according to the chronological order in which
they were written. The only exception to that procedure
occurs with The F lies. which was written and published a
year or two after The Underdogs. The change in order of
these works as they appear here offers two advantages in
analyzing Azuela's interpretation of Mexican society during
192
the Revolution. F irst, The Flies is a logical continuation
of The Bosses. Azuela is dealing with the middle-class
response to the Revolution in both works; and the latter
work picks up where the former ended, the overthrow of
Huerta and the rise of popular armies. The Underdogs deals
with the same time period and subject matter, but from the
perspective of the fighting masses. So a change in order
offers no problem in chronology, and will allow continuity
in the study of the provincial middle class .
A second reason for analyzing The Flies before The
Underdogs has to do with the relationship of the content of
The Flies to the format of this study. This novel deals
exclusively with the social group that eventually emerges as
the "successes" of the Revolution. They are the urban,
middle-class bureaucrats w ho have broken away from tra d i
tional culture but are not modern in values. Azuela's char
acters in The Flies offer valuable insight into the nature
of this intermediate group. H e has dealt with them in som e
of his earlier works: the p olitical officials of Alamos in
The Failures and the members of the Illustrious T ow n Coun
c il in The Bosses are the best examples. But in The Flies.
a ll the characters pertain to this group, and they are re
sponding to a genuine revolutionary situation for the firs t
193
time. The Flies is a remarkable description of this group,
and from that description will be developed a key c la ssifi
cation for this study, the amalgamated culture. The Flies
is the best source for the development of this concept, and
by developing the idea of the amalgamated m an before ana
lyzing The Underdogs, that idea can be applied to the mas
terfully developed characters of Azuela's greatest novel.
It is a tribute to Azuela's a rtistic and sociological
insight that he selected for his subject matter a group of
individuals w ho were motivated by one com m on desire— that of
not becoming involved in the Revolution. Azuela seemed to
realize at the very outset of the violence that was to
sweep Mexico that these nonparticipants, the "flies" of the
title , will eventually control the destiny of the country.
Of the som e two dozen characters w ho appear by nam e in the
novel, the only ones w ho do not live off the government
directly are two prostitutes w ho accompany an important
general. All the rest are bureaucratic or military "flies,"
w ho frantically buzz around in their efforts to feed from
the body p o litic .
The opening scene occurs in a train station of a pro
vincial capital. The time is April 1915, a most trying time
for the "flies." Their very existence is predicated on
194
maintaining contact with the holders of political power,
and in these unstable times such contact has required a
great deal of sk illfu l maneuvering. They have had to endure
the fall of Diaz, the murder of Madero, the overthrow of
Huerta, and the occupation of the capital by the v illista s
and the zapatistas. The flies had managed to maintain, and
even improve, their positions through a ll these crises. N o w
another c risis is at hand. Their latest leader and bene
factor, Pancho Villa, is facing a serious challenge from
the carranzistas, and a decisive battle is shaping up at
Celaya.
The train station is full of panic and noise as the
Villa supporters of the town scramble for space aboard the
trains that are evacuating the city . Azuela focuses on the
particular "flies" w ho swarm into the hospital car. The
overnight train ride in the cramped car provides the numer
ous characters the opportunity to talk about and to reflect
on their com m on problem: how to maintain, and even improve,
one's position in this period of in stab ility .
Most of the characters are by now masters at surviving
during unsettled times, so the conversation centers on how
and when one should change his loyalty from Villa to Car
ranza. The most adept survivalist is a politician named
195
Rodolfo Bocanegra. Bocanegra, for whose nam e the English
equivalent would be "Blackmouth," clearly has become aware
of the opportunity afforded to the clever by the Revolution.
H e also understands that it is the office holders, not the
revolutionaries, w ho ow n the future in Mexico:
Revolution is a certain means of making a fortune, just
as government is the only means of preserving it and
giving it a chance to grow as it deserves. N o w , just as
the rifle is indispensable in the firs t stage, so the
office-holder is indispensable in the second. They
[the carranzistas, v illis ta s , and Zapatistas 1 think they
can form a government by themselves, but they are only
stones blown into the air which must inevitably com e to
earth again. But you and I represent an irresistib le
force, the force of inertia, and they must fall into
our hands or destroy themselves in anarchy. (p. 24)
Bocanegra's audience includes the Reyes-Tellez family,
consisting of the mother, two daughters, and a son; an
ostentatious poet named Neftali Sancho Peredo de la Garza;
t ^ ie v illis ta General Malacara (Badface) and his entourage of
orderlies and prostitutes; Donancio Rios, an attorney; don
Sinforoso, the mayor; the schoolmaster and two of his
teachers; a military doctor; and assorted other minor func
tionaries .
The closest to being main characters are the members of
the Reyes-Tellez family. The mother describes her family as
"born in government service" (p. 11). Her late husband was
196
doorkeeper to the national palace from the time of Emperor
Maximilian to don Panchito Madero, one daughter works in the
public library, another is a stenographer in a government
office, and the son attends normal school. The family man
ages to survive the crisis by clawing and scratching, taking
advantage of every opportunity; one is left with the impres
sion that they will do nicely under subsequent regimes.
They manage to squeeze a spot on the hospital car because
Rosita, the p rettiest daughter, catches the eye of the lib i
dinous General Malacara. W hen the train pulls into Irapuato
and discharges its load of refugees, Rosita again employs
her charms, but this time on the doctor in charge of the
hospital car. Without funds, the family gratefully accepts
food and clothing purchased by the good doctor. W hen his
supply of m oney is exhausted, the family drops him and re
turns their attention to the general.
The only difficulty here is that Malacara is a v illis ta
general— at least he wears a Villa uniform— and it looks
more and more as though Villa is through. The town fills up
with V illa's troops and with rumors of V illa's defeat at
Celaya. The family now has two options: they can continue
north with the v illis ta s , going on to the United States
until things settle down; or they can stay and hail the
197
arrival of the most recent victors, in conjunction with
cultivating some acquaintances they have am ong the carran-
zistas. The mother finally decides to cover both possi
bilities . She has her son remain in Irapuato (actually
pushing the cowardly young m an off the train) in order to
m ake contact with carranzista friends, and the rest will go
north with Villa. W hen the mother persists in fretting
about the uncertainties of the future, her daughters com
fort her. Rosita talks of the m any friends they have am ong
the carranzistas, and she reasons, "if the villistas fall,
we'll fall too, but we'll fall on our feet I" (p. 45). The
other daughter sums up the situation more poetically with
this recitation: "Plumes there are that can cross a morass
/ and never show a spot ..." (p. 51).
The rest of the "flies," not being able to cover both
possibilities, must m ake a decision. The Villa trains are
pulling out, and the Carranza troops are on the outskirts
of the city. At this point Bocanegra makes a convincing
argument for staying:
I am staying here and I know what I am about. I
have friends and colleagues high in Senor Carranza's
government. I repeat, they need us. If they succeed
w e shall be more necessary to them than their rifles
are now. (p. 73)
Bocanegra goes on to explain the opportunity the
198
Revolution presents, and he assures them that they will
. . bless the revolution, as I do now, for the good it is
bringing us." Bocanegra1 s logic is effective. Soldiers
discard their rifles and uniforms, and other officials de
cide to stay and cheer the carranzistas into Irapuato.
Only two characters fail to respond to Bocanegra's
argument for opportunism. O ne is Donancio Rios, the attor
ney. H e has listened to his friend Bocanegra's rhetoric
during the whole train ride; but, as the only character
whose actions are encumbered by the obligations of modern
values, Rios cannot join the flies. Bocanegra puts the
question plainly: "To be or not to be, friend. Are you
staying?" (p. 73). The attorney's response is, "I'd rather
die, don Rodolfo" (p. 73). Just then Rios spots a Villa
train and dashes off. In his haste he leaves behind all
his personal possessions, including a new English topcoat
and a leather valise.
Bocanegra, ever the opportunist, collects the best of
what is left on the platform, considering it "just an ad
vance on our salary" (p. 76). There is no doubt that Boca
negra will collect political power and social prestige as
well. Azuela seems to be saying that the future of Mexico
belongs to the Bocanegras, the m en unencumbered by either
199
traditional or modern values. Bocanegra's Shakespearean
line sums up Azuela*s Darwinistic interpretation of the
evolution of Mexican society. The Revolution had created
an environment that favored the daring and opportunistic.
"To be" meant to take advantage of a situation in order to
further one's ow n interests. The individuals best suited
for this opportunistic behavior were those unencumbered by
either deeply internalized traditional or modern values, for
such values tend to restrict the individual's behavior in
relation to society. Thus the Revolutionary environment
favored the new urban middle class. This class became
numerically significant in conjunction with the industriali
zation process of the Diaz era. A s bourgeois urbanites,
they had to break away from the values of traditional M ex
ico. O n the other hand, the artificiality of an industri
alization process that was spurred by exogenous influences
explains the lack of adherence to modern values am ong the
members of the new class. The rate of change in their eco
nomic and social status was incredibly rapid when compared
with the same process in the Western experience. Having
only a brief exposure to exogenous modern values, and having
broken loose from traditional values, this urban middle
sector of Mexican society was ideally suited to adapt to the
2 00
chaotic conditions of revolutionary Mexico.
A s usual, Azuela is looking ahead, anticipating the
impact of events that he was witnessing on the future of
Mexico. In The Flies, he sees his country falling into the
hands of this new class . H e creates Rodolfo Bocanegra as
the symbolic type for this emergent group. While not a
well-developed character, Bocanegra is a tremendously sig
nificant figure; he not only demonstrates by his actions
that he and his kind are destined to rise to positions of
importance, but he is fully aware of his destiny. H e has
developed a kind of class consciousness, and he has con
ceptualized the tremendous power, through the "law of iner
tia, 1 1 that his class has. W hat Azuela foresees is clear.
Bocanegra's apostolic lecturing about his power and how to
use it does not fall on deaf ears. Clearly, the future
belongs to the Bocanegras, the "flies" of Mexican society.
The characters in The Flies. then, become important as
models for what Azuela predicts will be the group which will
benefit most from the Revolution and which will help shape
Mexico's future. To this point, Azuela's characters have
been analyzed according to their position on the tradi
tional-modern cultural continuum, with either one pole or
the other serving as a frame of reference. The characters
2 01
in The Flies, however, seem to present the opportunity of
establishing a set of concepts for what earlier has been
referred to rather vaguely as the "intermediate" position,
or the amalgamated bourgeoisie. The following discussion,
then, attempts to develop an intermediate cultural classi
fication, the amalgamated culture. This model will include
operational concepts through which the political behavior
of the "flies" can be described and explained.
The Genesis of the Amalgamated
Bourgeoisie
In an earlier chapter, the concept of the amalgamated
culture was developed to describe the process by which the
sociological changes associated with Western watersheds
fused with the Mexican sociological environment. The con
cept is based on the premise that seemingly contradictory
values can fuse into an intimate mixture. This premise m ay
be hard to accept if viewed within the context of Western
history^ such values as fatalism and activism, for example,
would appear to be mutually exclusive because in Western
culture they are separated by centuries of evolution, and
one replaces the other. In contrast, the Mexican historical
experience has been one of "telescoped" sociological
changes. The result is that an individual can be exposed
2 02
to contrasting values, traditional and modern in the Western
context, simultaneously. This coexistence of values cer
tainly presents the opportunity for mixture or amalgamation.
If the premise of cultural amalgamation in the Mexican
environment is accepted, then several characteristics of
that process are inherently logical. First, amalgamation
would most likely occur in a sociological situation where
the individual is exposed to both traditional and modern
values. Thus amalgamation could be expected to occur in
urban areas and am ong individuals w ho are not far removed
from a rural, more traditional setting. Such an individual,
not far removed from the land, could learn traditional
values; and living in an urban environment, he could learn
modern values also. Within Mexican society, two socio
economic groups seem to satisfy those conditions: the
middle-class resident of the provincial town that is large
enough to be exposed to the influences of modernization,
yet small enough to retain a rural feeling; and the immi
grant to the larger city, w ho brings with him to the urban
enclave a set of traditional values that was his birthright.
The second characteristic that can be expected of the
amalgamation process has to do with the manner, the mechan
ics by which that process might be realized. The cultural
2 03
characteristics being used to classify traditional and m od
ern models can be viewed in two contexts, the individual and
the social. Individual context refers to the individual's
conception of himself in his interactions with society,
while social context refers to the attitude toward society
entailed in that interaction. The individual context of
activism, for example, describes the modern man's self
conception that he can control his ow n life and plan his
future. But that value has a social context also, in which
the individual's activism is influenced by his attitude
toward his society. To the modern individual, the social
context of activism dictates that other members of the group
enjoy the same value. Thus activism is tempered by law and
by beliefs concerning the right of other individuals to be
active. In general, then, the social context of a value
tends to temper the individual's behavior in deference to
the group.
If values are viewed in terms of these two contexts,
it becomes possible to hypothesize on the nature of an
amalgamated value. W hen an individual is exposed to con
trasting values, it seems plausible to assume that an amal
gamation could occur; and further, that it could occur as a
fusion of a modern context with a traditional context. For
2 04
example, the modern individual context of activism could
amalgamate with the traditional social context of fatalism.
Such a mixture seems possible when the unique circumstances
of the Mexican environment are considered. Also, when com
paring the Mexican experience with Western history, the
combination used above—associating the individual context
with the modern characteristic and the social context with
the traditional—appears to be the most logical. The in
dividual context of a value is an external manifestation of
that value, in that it is associated with what the individ
ual does. O n the other hand, the social context of a value
is internalized; it entails the standards of judgment, all
those notions of what is good and bad, right and wrong, in
a particular society. Such internalized values are trans
mitted to the individual from birth and by his parents and
other primary socializing groups. They would tend to be
deeply rooted within the individual and therefore not easily
changed.
The individuals described by Azuela in The Flies, being
of the provincial bourgeoisie and proletariat, are prime
candidates to experience the amalgamation process described
above. It can be hypothesized that the process itself will
consist of fusing the individual context of a modern value,
2 05
which is external and therefore more easily acquired by
demonstration effect and exogenous influences, with the
internalized, more permanent social context of a more or
less traditional value. The individual context of activism,
for example, can be adopted readily by demonstration effect
and amalgamated with a fatalistic social context.
This brings up one final task before the "flies" of
Azuela can be used to test the hypothesis presented above.
Concepts must be developed by which the amalgamated culture
can be described. The adjective "amalgamated" has been used
to identify this classification of culture because the word
denotes a mixture that has an identity of its own. A n amal
gam combines two or more materials in such a way that the
end product can assume properties that are unique from its
original elements. The contention here is that it is a
mistake to describe or explain the individual's response to
the Mexican experience within the Western concepts of tradi
tion and modernity. The amalgamated m an has a unique iden
tity, and the following discussion has the purpose of devel
oping new concepts with which that identity m ay be under
stood .
The fatalism-activism amalgam has been partially devel
oped in the above discussion. The individual context of
2 06
activism allows the individual to attempt to control his
future by his external behavior. But when activism is
brought to a society instead of evolving from it, the social
context of respect for others 1 rights to activism, which
evolved over centuries in the West, m ay be absent. The
amalgamated m an m ay adopt the value of activism, but he m ay
not adopt the corresponding "rules of the game, " the social
context of activism. H e m ay actively try to better himself,
but his standards of judgment m ay be fatalistic: he m ay
hold that power holders deserve respect and obedience, re
gardless of ideals, because greater merit explains their
possession of power, for example. This amalgam of fatalism
and activism will be conceptualized as "actionism. 1 1 While
activism implies adhering to a tempering set of rules,
actionism describes acting to improve one's circumstances
without adhering to those modern standards of judgment.
In m uch the same way, the other value classifications
illustrated in Figure can amalgamate: the individual
context, that is, the external manifestations of a modern
value, can be adopted without the corresponding social con
text, or internal standards of judgment. Individualism, for
example, refers to the modern man's pursuit of his ow n in
terests] but this value evolved slowly from the traditional
man's collective identity. The result is that the external
manifestation of individualism is the pursuit of personal
interests, but this pursuit is tempered by a concern for
com m on interests. The standards of judgment dictate that
individual goals should be pursued only as long as there is
no conflict with com m on interests. The adoption of indi
vidualism without the corresponding standards of judgment
will be conceptualized as "particularism." This concept is
defined as the exclusive attention to one's ow n interests,
which in turn implies a lack of "modern" concern for com m on
interests. In the traditional culture, loyalty tends to
extend only as far as the family or clan. Particularism,
then, entails the pursuit of individual interests, limited
only by concern for the clan's interests.
In describing social values, the concepts of mobility
and associationalism were used as modern value classifica
tions; and they were contrasted with the traditional values
of stratification and familism. The stratification-mobility
amalgam will be described by the term "assignation." Mobil
ity carries the implication that the individual should earn
his progress on the basis of achievement, usually occupa
tional merit. The amalgamated m an m ay adopt the individual
context of this value, the idea of trying to climb upward;
2 08
but he m ay not adopt the standards implied in the social
context of that value. M ore likely, the amalgamated man's
standards would be closer to the traditional context of
ascribing a permanent social position on the basis of such
criteria as family ties, ethnic background, or linguistic
group. The amalgam "assignation" implies the acceptance of
individual progress as a possibility, but within a context
of a stratified society. O ne can improve his social stand
ing by means of "assignment" from a superior in the hierar
chy .
Modern m an was described as being associational, that
is, he has access to associations which serve his social,
political, and economic needs. Traditional man, in con
trast, relied on the extended family. The social context
of associationalism includes the standard of open access to
all, based on achievement. A com m on ancestor is the basic
requirement for clan membership. The amalgam of these two
values would be associational from the individual context,
but the standards governing access m ay remain traditional.
The term "alliance" will be used to describe the resulting
amalgam. The amalgamated m an m ay join a structure that
resembles an association. But access to the structure m ay
be limited by some selectivistic criteria. In addition, the
2 09
association has a com m on purpose, and that com m on purpose
is consistent with the general values of society. The
amalgamated structure m ay not have a com m on purpose in a
social context; its raison d'etre m ay be nonassociational—
the protection of its members, for example. A n alliance,
then, m ay resemble an association superficially, but access
m ay be closed and its purpose m ay relate only to individual,
and not social, context. It is an organization of people
w ho agree to cooperate for mutual benefit, not com m on social
purpose.
The modern economic value of materialism has been con
trasted with its traditional counterpart, spiritualism.
Materialism implies a disinterest in the traditional spiri
tual values along with a correspondingly greater attention
given to material objects, needs, and considerations. For
modern m an the business of life is no longer salvation, but
investment and consumption. But this modern quest for
profit and material well-being evolved naturally from
spiritually motivated values. Thus the social context of
materialism includes a sense of obligation to the spiritual.
The business of life is profit now, but some of the profit
should be utilized for the spiritual benefit of the com m u
nity. If the amalgamated m an adopted the individual context
210
of materialism without the corresponding sense of obliga
tion, he would regard his ow n welfare as the supreme end of
his actions. This amalgam will be conceptualized as ego
ism. The economic egoist strives for immediate profit and
is disinterested in the society with which he interacts.
Three aspects of political culture have been used in
conjunction with cultural classification: in political
orientation, subjects were contrasted with participants.
The modern participant is oriented toward actively influ
encing the input functions of the political process; that
is, he tries to articulate his interests so that he will be
influencing the making of decisions that affect him. This
type of participation, evolving by degrees over centuries,
entails the social context of respect for the rights of
others . All people are equally human; therefore weak and
strong alike should have a chance to participate p o liti
cally. In contrast, the traditional "subject" views power
holders with respect and obedience. The social context of
this view calls for the acceptance of a dominance-
subjugation relationship, because one's position in that
relationship is determined by Divine Providence. Tradi
tional man's orientation toward the political process fo
cuses on the output functions, since the inputs are
211
predetermined. Outputs are seen as welfare benefits,
acquired as personal favors from the dominant.
If the amalgamated bourgeois accepts the individual
context of participation, he will see himself as capable of
playing a role in the political process. But if he lacks
the social context of an equalitarian orientation, his
participation will focus on influencing the output functions
in an authoritarian manner. This subject-participant amal
gam will be conceptualized as a "recipient." A recipient is
aware that the political system can be influenced, but his
participation is based on a hierarchical context. Thus his
interest focuses on the output functions. H e tries to
"receive" benefits by influencing the rule-makers them
selves, not by influencing the system.
A second aspect of political culture was presented as
a contrast between primary and secondary socialization. In
the traditional culture, primary groups control the induc
tion of the individual into political structures, while the
modern culture contains secondary groups that are part of
that process . If the amalgamated m an forms a group, it is
likely to be secondary in its individual context. M ember
ship m ay be determined by one's contacts with the world away
from home, not by com m on ancestry; and it m ay be
212
functionally specific and bureaucratized. But a traditional
social context m ay give the group such traditional traits as
emphasis on face-to-face relations* unspecialized goals, and
limited size. This primary-secondary amalgam will be con
ceptualized as a "elect." The term is borrowed from Riggs,
5
w ho coined the word by combining "clique" and "sect." A
elect is an organization which is functionally specific and
bureaucratized, but its bureaucracy and functions are in
fluenced by primary tra its. Examples of elects are guilds
as opposed to labor unions; sects as opposed to religious
associations; academies instead of schools; and clubs that
have a social function— raising money for charity, for ex
ample—as opposed to agencies.
The final aspect of political culture, political re
cruitment, was contrasted as being based either on particu
laristic or universalistic criteria. In the amalgamated
situation, the criteria for recruitment can be externally
universalistic. For example, political roles m ay be as
signed through some proof of ability, such as examination
~ * T h e discussion of elects appears in Riggs, pp. 164-
173. The characteristics of primary and secondary groups
are taken from Charles H. Cooley, Introductory Sociology
(N ew York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1933), pp. 208 ff.
213
or license. But the rules that dictate w ho is eligible for
a political role m ay remain particularistic. Thus a role is
achieved, but only certain individuals are eligible to com
pete for the role in the first place. This particularistic-
universalistic amalgam will be conceptualized as being
"selectivistic . 1 1 Amalgamated m en are recruited into roles
by universalistic criteria, but their eligibility is s till
determined by particularistic criteria. Thus the amalga
mated m an is neither appointed nor elected. H e is "se
lected . 1 1
If the values of the amalgamated bourgeoisie predomi
nate in a society, the political process should reflect that
influence. Amalgamated political structures, then, would be
elects, not associations. Their style would be neither
sacred nor secular, but eclectic; that is, the functions of
a elect can be based on emotional criteria, as in the tra
ditional model, or on the rational criteria of the modern
model. The recipient orientation of the amalgamated m an
m ay enable him to participate in the political process, but
he m ay do so according to hierarchical "rules." A nd as a
recipient, his political activity centers on a particular
istic effort to influence the output functions of the
political process . The Twentieth of November Club in The
214
Bosses serves to illustrate the concept of a elect and how
it functions politically. That group was not a modern,
associational political party, because its functions were
influenced by m any primary traits; yet it was not a kinship
group, because membership was not based on lineage; it had
some specific functions, and it was at least partially
bureaucratized. Its style was eclectic, sometimes function
ing on the basis of emotion and other times according to
rational criteria. A nd the attention of the club was fo
cused on the output functions of the town's political proc
ess .
Figure 2 summarizes the concepts developed for the
purpose of identifying the amalgamated culture and the
amalgamated political process in relation to the cultural
continuum. The next step will be to analyze the characters
in The Flies according to these concepts.
The socioeconomic status of Azuela's "flies" coincides
with that status which is susceptible to amalgamation,
according to the logic of the hypothesis developed above.
All of the some two dozen "flies" depicted by Azuela are
provincial, urban, and middle class. Obviously, all have
been influenced by modernization (almost all the action
takes place in the two train stations and the train itself.
215
G E N E R A L C U L T U R E
Traditional
Values
Amalgamated
Values
Modern Values
Fatalism
• 4
Actionism « — Activism
Collectivism Part icular ism
< —
Individualism
Stratification Assignation
< — Mobility
Familism Alliance
< —
Associationalism
Spiritualism
—*
Egoism
♦ —
Materialism
1
i
PO LITICA L | C U L T U R E
Traditional
Aspects
I
Amalgamated
Aspects
Modern Aspects
Subject
or ientation
)
Recipient
orientation
« —
Participant
orientation
Primary group
socialization
-
Socialization
by elects
< —
Secondary group
socialization
Particularistic
recruitment
Selective
recruitment
Universalistic
recruitment
; 1
i
i
PO LITICA L P R O C E S S
J
i
"Sacred"
Functions
Eclectic
Functions
I
Secular
Functions
Clans elects Associations
Fig. 2 .— The Amalgamated Bourgeoisie.
216
Azuela frequently uses the train, a product of Porfirian
industrialization, in association with his nontraditional
characters). Azuela provides almost no background informa
tion on these types; but there is no reason to doubt that
they have all been exposed to traditional values in their
provincial lives.
The personages about w hom Azuela provides the most
information are the members of the Reyes-Tellez family and
Rodolfo Bocanegra. Their actions and reactions to their
environment are consistant with the amalgams that were
hypothesized above. The "actionism" amalgam, for example,
can be used to describe the actions of the Reyes family.
They are taking "action" constantly, from the opening scene
to the final one, in an attempt to improve their situation.
Their actions get them a place on the hospital car, provide
them with food and comforts in Irapuato, and get them passes
to go north with Villa. In the social context of all this
activity, however, there is no concern for the modern
standards of judgment relating to activism. In all their
actions, the family is particularistic, that is, they give
exclusive attention to their ow n interests without concern
for the general good.
Bocanegra's deeds are even more actionistic and
217
particularistic. H e is unencumbered by modern standards of
judgment. This permits him to remain free to advance his
ow n interests at the expense of, and not for the mutual
benefit of, everybody and everything around him.
Bocanegra and the Reyes family exemplify the s tra tifi
cation -mobility amalgam, assignation. They view mobility
as a distinct possibility, but occupational ability is not
a prime consideration in gaining access to that mobility.
The family is ever on the alert for old friendships to cul
tivate or new ones to formulate. The son, for example, in
hanging around the military figures "... always tried to
divine what the officers were thinking, ready to chime in
with them on all occasions" (The Flies, p. 9). H e himself
explains later that he does this to gain a "promotion for
our loyalty" (p. 9) at som e opportune time. Bocanegra
applies the same principle, but his vision is m uch greater
than that of his peers. H e sees the Revolution as a gigan
tic vehicle for his upward mobility, but his efforts to
improve himself are based on assignation and demonstrate a
blatant disregard for society.
The groups into which the "flies" organize demonstrate
the characteristics of the alliance amalgam. Mutual benefit
is the primary basis for grouping, never the com m on social
218
purpose that characterizes the association. Bocanegra's
political affiliation with the villista movement is an ex
ample, for he does not hesitate to desert it when the nor-
tenos appear to be losing: "... what good are w e doing
for ourselves in following these m en w ho have already
stepped over the brink of the precipice?" (p. 72). Rosita
Reyes exhibits the alliance amalgam when she laments the
"friends" she has to make:
"Take m y case. A decent person of good family, with
aristocratic connections, is poor and has to work for a
living. So she has to make friends in the official
world, and the first thing she knows she has picked up
acquaintances . . .w ell, you can imagine the kind of
scum: people beneath her, no manners or anything."
(pp. 38-39)
In their political orientation, the "flies" exhibit the
characteristics of the recipiency amalgam. Their partici
pation is directed toward receiving benefits, not toward
changing the political system in a way that would allow them
to articulate their interests as participants. A nd their
orientation to the political process takes no consideration
of the modern standards of judgment associated with the
participant orientation. Bocanegra, who, by the way, Azuela
describes only as a politician, is fully conscious of his
recipiency; and he sees it as the only way in which he can
219
organize his political demands and get them converted into
favorable decisions. Also, he has conceptualized that the
participants, those w ho are trying to change the system,
must fail in the Mexican environment. The participants are
the "... stones blown into the air which must inevitably
com e to earth again I" (p. 24).
The Reyes family are recipients also, and they are able
to satisfy their political demands by employing amalgamated
tactics within amalgamated structures. The political func
tions are performed by elects, and the Reyes are masters at
operating within such structures. The charms of Rosita are
used on the general, on the doctor, and on Villa's secretary
(to get a pass allowing them to travel north), in order to
receive favorable decisions from the output elects to which
those m en belong. In the same way, the Reyes son uses a
school friend from Irapuato, a known carranzista, as a means
of making contact with the new power holders .
The Reyes family and Bocanegra, then, seem to behave in
a manner that is consistent with the cultural amalgams that
were hypothesized earlier. The political process in their
particular environment seems to exemplify amalgamated bour
geois structures and amalgamated bourgeois behavior also.
There is no evidence of alienation am ong the "flies," and
this can be considered supportive of the amalgamation con
cept: as amalgamated individuals, the "flies" are inte
grated with the amalgamated environment in which they live.
They have amalgamated bourgeois political expectations,
which in general are satisfied by the amalgamated political
process.
The behavior of two personages, however, cannot be
explained satisfactorily by using the amalgamation concept.
Donancio Rios and the military doctor, in sharp contrast to
the Reyes family and Bocanegra, display modern, or at least
relatively more modern, values and norms. It is difficult
to explain the deviancy of these two characters, partly
because Azuela offers so few details about any of his char
acters in this work. It is known, however, that Donancio
Rios is the prosecuting attorney for the state, a position
of considerably more importance and prestige than that of
the "flies." Also, he has had a long period of exposure to
government service and modernity, giving him time to in
ternalize some of the modern standards of judgment. H e
describes himself in relation to this socialization process
Donancio Rios, age forty, married, a government employee
since losing his last milk-teeth. Record of service:
impeccable since starting as a message-boy in a minor
law court right up to the present position as prosecuting
attorney. (p. 22)
221
Azuela imparts even less information about the doctor.
Just the fact that he is a doctor serves as a partial ex
planation for his relative modernity. Besides the implica
tions of exposure to modern higher education, the medical
doctor is used by Azuela in m any of his works as a pessi
mistic, disillusioned intellectual. This doctor is no d if
ferent, as he shows himself to be bitter and disillusioned
with what he sees of the Revolution. H e expresses his
cynicism at one point in this way:
"Thinkers prepare the revolution and bandits carry it
out. At the moment, no one can say with assurance:
so and so is a revolutionary and what's-his-name is a
bandit! Tomorrow, perhaps, it will be easier." (p. 13)
While there are no thorough explanations for the devia
tion of these two m en from the values of the amalgamated
bourgeoisie, there is nothing that directly contradicts the
concept in their characterization. It is a case of lack of
information more than of evidence that conflicts with the
hypothesis. Further, the alienation profiles of the two m en
seem to support the hypothesis. A s relatively modern men,
they, should be alienated from the amalgamated bourgeois
political process with which they interact. Despite the
shallow characterization of all his personages, Azuela does
dig into the mental processes of these two men. In fact,
222
they are the only individuals, out of twenty-three in the
novel, w ho Azuela shows in the process of thinking. All the
other characters are developed through their actions. The
doctor is alienated by the opportunism and animal-like
behavior swirling around him. H e feels totally powerless in
this situation and his response is withdrawal.
Azuela portrays the mental processes of Donancio Rios
through dream-like interior monologues that occur during the
sleepless night on the train. It is obvious that Donancio
feels out of place in this opportunistic environment:
"W hy, oh m y God, w hy am I, Donancio Rios, an honest m an
to the marrow of m y bones, w hy am I so tortured as a
reward for m y loyalty to m y country, m y home, and the
faith of m y fathers?" (p. 26)
Donancio is alienated from the amalgamated m en w ho ow e
loyalty only to themselves. W hen he is faced with the
choice, "to be or not to be," he understands that he can
"be" only if he adapts to the dominant amalgamated bour
geois culture. H e chooses not to be and withdraws. In one
monologue, Azuela not only shows the affective state of
Donancio as being alienated, he does so in a way that anti
cipates the affective state associated with alienation in
the thoroughly modern culture. Donancio gives this de
scription, in which he compares himself to a machine:
223
. . . an Underwood [machine-like]. Moreover: the
typewriter requires cleaning, overhaul, repairs; he
only needs a little alimentary oiling in order to al
ways function impeccably. Preponderant faculties:
abdication of will, intelligence gagged and muzzled,
unlimited moral elasticity, absolute castration of
individuality: the ideal government servant. (p. 22)
In summary, the characteristics conceptualized under
the classification "amalgamated bourgeois culture" coincide
with the socioeconomic environment and the individual values
portrayed by Azuela in The Flies . It is felt here that the
amalgamated bourgeois culture and all its related concepts
can be used as a tool for the purpose of describing and
explaining political alienation in revolutionary Mexico.
The Underdogs
In July of the year 1914, the troops of Pancho Villa
occupied Azuela's hom e town, Lagos de Moreno. A villista
general named Julian Medina invited Azuela to join his vic
torious troop of peasant irregulars. Azuela accepted, and
for the next year he served as military doctor, with the
rank of lieutenant colonel, in the Revolutionary A rm y of
General Francisco Villa.
Azuela had been chronicling the revolutionary movement
from its inception. His novels to this point offer a record
of the movement's progress as it inevitably engulfed all of
224
Mexican society: his early works portray the injustices
and oppression of Porfirian Mexico; he sees the start of the
Revolution as a reaction to this society by urban intellec
tuals in The Failures and Andres Perez, maderista; and he
describes the involvement of the provincial middle class in
The Bosses and The Flies . N ow he is to be a direct partici
pant in the phase of the revolution that had been seen only
on the periphery of these novels: the involvement of the
rural masses w ho have been the "underdogs" of Mexican soci
ety since their defeat in 1521.
Azuela's experience as a participant in the epic stage
of the Revolution was not a happy one. His preliminary
impressions of the rural fighters were generally favorable;
but by the time Medina's troops had captured Guadalajara
(December 1914), these impressions had changed. W here at
first he had seen simple, loyal, self-sacrificing, and cour
ageous primitive types, he now saw senseless brutality,
0
violence, and greed. In 1915, as the v illista movement
began to disintegrate in the face of attacks by carran-
zistas, Azuela witnessed the urban opportunists scrambling
0
For Azuela's autobiographical account of his impres
sions during this experience, see Obras completas. Ill,
1080ff.
225
to save their ow n skins, leaving the uncomprehending peasant
fighters to fend for themselves. In that same year he began
to write The Underdogs. Not surprisingly, it is a pessimis
tic and bitter interpretation of the monumental events to
which Azuela was an eyewitness.
In retrospect, it should not have been surprising that
Azuela would write a masterpiece, and that this would be it.
His earlier works had demonstrated a profound insight and
intuition concerning the events of this decade; and as the
involvement of the masses represents the logical culmination
of the revolutionary process in the Mexican environment, so
does The Underdogs represent the culmination of Azuela's
perception of that process . The idea that The Underdogs
represents a culmination of Azuela's creative insight is
important to understand. The evidence for this idea is
found in Azuela's characterizations. All of the principal
characters in the novel, plus m any of the minor ones, can be
traced to Azuela's earlier works. In these characters can
be seen the culmination of Azuela's creative insight. In a
masterful way, the novelist brings to a logical conclusion
his interpretation of the interaction of the individual and
the Mexican revolutionary environment. A nd his characteri
zations are what m ake The Underdogs a landmark in Mexican
226
lite ra tu re .
Azuela's characters in The Underdogs offer a panorama
of Mexican society during its ordeal. The protagonist is a
basically traditional m an,, a peasant named Demetrio Macias.
A s a character, he can be traced back to the groom Gertrudis
in Marcela and Vicente, the hacienda foreman in Andres
Perez, maderista. All three of these men, while more tra
ditional than modern in values, had m oved away from the tra
ditional ideal of the dominance-subjugation relationship.
This is embodied in Demetrio's status as a peasant, as
opposed to a peon. The former term describes a m an w ho ow ns
his ow n small plot of land, as opposed to the latte r, w ho is
a dependent agricultural worker on a hacienda.
Demetrio has a plot of land, a humble house, a wife, a
child, and a dog. But he is not totally independent of the
caciguismo that Azuela has described in earlier works. It
is a dispute with the town cacique, don Monico, that even
tually leads Demetrio into the Revolution. A s Demetrio
relates the story, it is evident that he had been contented
with his lot in life . H e had his patch of land, he worked
hard a ll week, and on Sundays he would go to M ass in town.
After church, it w as his custom, viewed as a right, to go
to the saloon for a b it of a drink. O ne sociable drink
227
leads to another, and after awhile, "... you're damned
happy and if you feel like it, you sing and shout and kick
7
up a b it of a row." H e views this as causing no harm;
nevertheless the town authorities decide they want to put a
stop to the fun, which is followed by the peasant telling
the policeman to "go to the Devil." Demetrio views this as
an infringement on his right to let off steam. H e explains
that if the police leave him alone, everything is a ll right;
but if they try to curtail the activity, "... before you
know i t, you've got your knife out or your gun leveled, and
then off you go for a wild run in the sierra, until they've
forgotten the corpse, see?" (p. 53).
Demetrio continues to explain how a personal grievance
of this nature was the circumstance that m ade him and his
m en "revolutionaries." In drunken defiance, Demetrio had
spit on the beard of don Monico. The cacique 1 s reaction was
to go to the provincial capital, denounce Demetrio as a
maderista, and get federal troops to assure his capture.
But Demetrio was warned by a friend,
". . . so when the soldiers reached Limon [the location
7
'Mariano Azuela, The Underdogs, trans . Enrique Munguia,
Jr. (N ew York: The N ew American Library, 1962), p. 53.
228
of his home] I w as miles and miles away. Trust me.
Then m y compadre Anastasio w ho killed somebody cam e and
joined me, and Pancracio and Quail and a lot of friends
and acquaintances cam e after him. Since then we've been
sort of collecting, see?" (p. 54)
The person to w ho m Demetrio is telling his history is
Luis Cervantes. The literary antecedent to Cervantes was
Andres Perez, the journalist w ho hypocritically and oppor
tunistically became a maderista in 1911. Cervantes, like
Andres, is intelligent, educated, and articulate. H e has
studied medicine and has been a journalist. A s a journalist
he has written scathing attacks against the revolutionaries
for a government-controlled newspaper. Drafted into the
federal army, he shows no taste for combat, and he senses
that the m om entum in the struggle is going against the
federals; so he deserts and winds up, after som e difficulty,
as the "brain truster" of Demetrio's emergent peasant
"army."
Cervantes is a nearly perfect model for the amalgamated
bourgeois in that his actions coincide with the character
istics of the amalgams developed earlier: he is from the
provincial-urban middle class; he is "actionistic" in that
there are no social checks on his activism; he is "particu
laristic" in that his individualism does not take into con
sideration other individuals; his ow n mobility is based on
229
"assignation" by the hierarchy; his social contacts are
"alliances" designed to benefit the allies at the expense
of others; and his materialism is "egoistic," focusing
exclusively on his ow n welfare.
In these two characters, then, Azuela has set up the
classic and ironic confrontation that for him is the essence
of the Revolution. O n the one hand is the peasant soldier,
w ho is fighting for reasons that have nothing to do with
ideology. O n the other hand is the amalgamated "soldier,"
spouting off an ideology that reflects the modernity of the
individual context of his values, but whose interactions
with his environment indicate the traditional nature of
their social context. S om e of the best scenes in the novel
involve Cervantes 1 unsuccessful struggles to penetrate the
consciousness of Demetrio. For example, after hearing
Demetrio give his interpretation of how he became involved
in "this mess" in the firs t place, Luis begins a long,
articulate counterattack. H e starts by telling Demetrio how
important he is, and then he tries to m ake the peasant
realize what an important role he is destined to play in the
Revolution:
"it is not true that you took up arms simply because of
Senor Monico. Y ou are under arms to protest against the
evils of a ll the caciques w ho are overrunning the whole
2 30
nation. W e are the elements of a social movement which
will not rest until i t has enlarged the destinies of
our motherland. W e are the tools Destiny makes use of
to reclaim the sacred rights of the people. . . . W hat
moves us is what m en call fighting for a principle. A
principle! That's w hy Villa and Natera and Carranza
are fighting: th at's w hy we. every m an of us, are fight
ing." (pp. 55-56)
But Cervantes' heroic oratory does not penetrate.
Demetrio's response shows his lack of comprehension and his
disinterest: "Hey, there, Pancracio, pull dow n two more
beers " (p. 56) .
With one exception, the rest of the characters in the
novel belong to either the traditional group represented by
Demetrio or the amalgamated bourgeoisie represented by Luis
Cervantes. It is no wonder that in such an environment,
inhabited by m en w ho were either fighting blindly or w ho
fraudulently and opportunistically participated in the
"revolution," the one character whose genuine ideological
commitment to the Revolution reflects his amalgamated in
tellectual values is completely cynical and disillusioned.
His nam e in The Underdogs is Solis, and he is the logical
extension of the pessimistic idealists of earlier works:
Tono Reyes in Andres Perez and Rodriguez in The Bosses, for
example. But as the Revolution escalated from maderismo to
the stage now being characterized, the pessimism of the
231
modern intellectual changes to cynical despair.
Solis, like Cervantes, espouses the cause of the masses
against the evils of caciquismo. But his disillusionment
focuses on the masses more than on the opportunists like
Cervantes, and it carries an overtone of racism. The only
scene in which Solis appears begins as he is searching out
Cervantes, w h o m he has never met. H e introduces himself,
and explains that he is 1 1 . . .s o anxious to find someone
intelligent in this crowd, that as soon as I get hold of a
m an like you I clutch at him as eagerly as I would at a
glass of water, after mile after mile through a parched
desert" (pp. 71-72). H e goes on to explain his cynicism in
i
terms of Mexican character:
"It's a host of silly , insignificant things that no one
notices except yourself . . . a change of expression,
eyes shining— lips curled in a sneer— the deep import
of a phrase that is lost! Yet take these things to
gether and they compose the mask of our race . . .
terrible . . . grotesque . . . a race that awaits re
demption." (pp. 72-73)
Solis sees no hope for this "grotesque race" to adopt
his values and ideals, and therefore his "solution" is the
to tal destruction of that race. H e te lls Cervantes,
" W e must wait a while, until there are no m en left to
fight on either side, until no sound of shots rings
through the air save from the m ob as carrion-like i t
falls upon the booty; w e must wait until the psychology
232
of our race, condensed into two words, shines clear and
luminous as a drop of water: R O B B E R Y I M U R D E R !" (p. 81)
Anything short of this to tal destruction, according to
Solis, will result in Mexican society staying the same, and
a ll the bloodshed will have been meaningless:
"W hat a colossal failure w e would m ake of it, friend, if
we, w ho offer our enthusiasm and lives to crush a
wretched tyrant, became the builders of a monstrous edi
fice holding one hundred or two hundred thousand m on
sters of exactly the same sort. People without ideals I
A tyrant folk! Vain bloodshed!" (p. 81)
Azuela, then, through Solis, is anticipating the out
com e of a revolution fought by tyrant (nonmodern) folk w ho
had no (modern) ideals: the emergence of monsters of the
same sort, new caciques perpetuating the same inj last ices .
M om ents later, as if to symbolize the fu tility of his cause
and the blind nature of violence, Solis is struck and killed
by an errant b u lle t.
The Underdogs is a classic in Mexican literatu re, and
far surpasses Azuela's previous works, because of these
characterizations. The novel has withstood the te st of time
because Azuela demonstrated a clear, accurate understanding
of Mexico's present and future through the individuals he
created. If the interactions of Demetrio, Luis, and Solis
with their environment had not been substantiated by
233
objective reality, the novel would not be receiving c ritic a l
acclaim today. In creating the characters in The Under
dogs . Azuela seems to have made an important discovery.
Characterization in his earlier works is generally weak
because his people tend to be either a ll good or all evil.
His discovery was, as the novelist himself explained it,
that "M en w ho are a ll good or a ll bad exist only in novels"
(Obras completas, III, 1060). Demetrio and the other char
acters in The Underdogs are neither thoroughly good nor
thoroughly evil; in short, they are human, a true reflection
of m en as they always are in objective reality.
Only the three most important characters of the novel
have been discussed here; but Azuela evidenced his b r il
liance in the creation of numerous secondary characters as
well. These characters appear and reappear only briefly and
sporadically, but Azuela gives each one of them a person
ality of his own. In to tal, they m ake an extremely impor
tant contribution to the novel, for they help to create the
general ambience in which the Revolution w as taking place.
Azuela says of his creations that they were
. . . anonymous soldiers, cannon fodder, poor people w ho
did not even use the nam e with which they were baptized.
They went through life like those dry leaves swept by
the wind . . . (p. 1085)
2 34
Even though they were mere cannon fodder, they leave an
indelible imprint on the reader. There is El Gttero (Blon-
die) Margarito, a waiter w ho joins the Revolution for the
sheer pleasure he gets from murdering and destroying; Pan-
cracio, El Manteca, El M eco, and other original comrades-in
arms of Demetrio; La Pintada, the debauched, beery cam p
follower; Camila, the naive peasant g irl w ho becomes Dem e-
trio 's soldadera, and w ho is eventually stabbed to death by
La Pintada; Venancio, the barber from Demetrio's town and
the only one of Demetrio's followers w ho listens to the
ideological oratory of Cervantes; and Valderrama, the m ad
poet who, like the court jester, can speak the truth to the
"king" because of his madness. Perhaps these "revolution
aries" are memorable because they are so real: sometimes
cruel, sometimes gentle, loyal and treacherous, full of hate
and love, but always real. Azuela created most of them from
his observations of reality . El Giiero (Blondie), for exam
ple, w as created from a hateful, violent m an w h o m Azuela saw
wounded in a battle: "Near the town of Tequila, he was
wounded in one knee by a b u lle t. W hen he tried to get up
and couldn't, he drew his revolver and shot himself in the
head . . ." (p. 1083).
The plot of The Underdogs is episodic, unified only by
235
the presence of Demetrio. The structure has been described
as chaotic, which suits it very well to the theme of revo
lution. The action begins with federal soldiers burning
Demetrio's house. Demetrio escapes to the sierra, a band
of som e twenty-five m en of similar circumstance is formed,
and the band successfully ambushes a larger federal force in
a nearby canyon. Demetrio and his band flee deeper into the
sierra and find refuge in a small mountain village. Here
Luis Cervantes appears on the scene, narrowly averts being
shot because he dresses and acts like a "city slicker"
(curro) , and eventually emerges as Demetrio's idea man.
Without understanding why, Demetrio is persuaded by the
articulate Cervantes to join the v illis ta movement. The
small band grows with each succeeding victory, Demetrio
rises in rank and in fame, and his followers enjoy looting
and pillaging the captured towns.
Finally, though, the tide turns . Villa is defeated
and Demetrio's band begins to suffer reversals. They re
treat to the north from whence they came, morale fa lls, and
desertions increase. The most notable of the deserters is
Luis Cervantes, w ho has taken enough in loot to live com
fortably in El Paso, Texas. Demetrio's band eventually
dwindles dow n to its original members, and they find
2 36
themselves in the canyon that w as the scene of their in itia l
victory. This time, however, Demetrio and his m en are am
bushed. Demetrio sees his comrades picked off one by one
by federal bullets. A nd the novel ends as Demetrio, ". . .
his eyes leveled in an eternal glance, continues to point
the barrel of his gun" (The Underdogs, p. 149).
The geographical and material movement in The Underdogs
is circular. Demetrio and his band start in the canyon with
nothing but their rifle s, and they end up in the same place
with the same resources. If a ll the fighting, destruction,
and bloodshed result in no change, how could a ll that hap
pened be called a revolution? B y using the alienation
framework for an analytical basis, it can be ascertained
that there was revolutionary movement, not just circular
movement, in The Underdogs. But the revolutionary change
has to be seen in terms of cultural values, not in concrete
terms. A basic theme in the literature on revolution is
that revolutionary change is linked to changes in values.
Chalmers Johnson, for example, describes revolution as a
conflict over values, and Hanna Arendt sees the loss of
values as a fundamental cause of revolution. A struggle
that does not entail values and ideology is a rebellion, a
2 37
g
simple exchange of authority, and not a revolution.
If the events in Mexico under consideration are viewed
in terms of Western models, that is, traditional and modern
cultures, the revolutionary movement there is d ifficu lt to
ascertain. But i t is contended here that the concepts of
the amalgamated society and amalgamated culture can be used
as analytical tools by which a better understanding of that
event can be achieved.
Remembering that Mexico w as an amalgamated society in
this time period adds a dimension to the discussion of the
relationship between value changes and revolution. In the
amalgamated Mexican society, the value changes that caused
revolution were limited to the urban enclaves. This is
demonstrated by maderismo in reality and by such characters
as Solis in Azuela's novels. This revolution of the modern
enclaves was then imposed upon the provincial and bourgeois
sectors of society. It was an exogenous movement that w as
alien to sectors of society upon which it w as imposed. W hat
happened, in effect, w as that in the more traditional parts
of Mexico, a change in values did not cause revolution, but
g
For a discussion of the relationship between values
and revolution, see Chalmers Johnson, Revolutionary Change
(Boston: L ittle, Brown and Co., 1966) .
238
just the opposite: revolution caused a change in values.
Demetrio Macias, even though he ended up where he
started geographically, could not possibly have been un
changed in his values by his experiences. H e started out as
a basically traditional man. Politically, he was subject-
oriented. H e basically accepted the dominance-subjugation
relationship. His original defiance of authority w as based
on the malevolence of the dominant, not on any real chal
lenge to the relationship its e lf. H e w as a rebel, seeking
a change in the output structure, but not a revolutionary
seeking to influence the input process its e lf. Then he w as
exposed to revolution, caused by a change of values in som e
distant enclave. H e joined the fighting without knowing
why. This fighting led him into contact with a m uch larger
world. H e saw c itie s, trains, weapons, and he talked to
city slickers, opportunists, idealists. His fighting w as a
revolution from his old w ay of life , even if it w as not a
revolution for anything new. Azuela makes it evident that
Demetrio and his m en are conscious of their freedom from
their old w ay of life in this passage:
Riding proudly on his horse, Demetrio fe lt like a new
man.
They spurred their horses to a gallop as if in that m ad
239
race they laid claims of possession to the earth. W hat
m an am ong them now remembered the stern chief of police,
the growling policeman, or the conceited cacique? W hat
m an remembered his p itifu l hut where he slaved away,
always under the eyes of the owner or the ruthless and
sullen foreman, always forced to rise before dawn, and
to take up his shovel, basket, or goad, wearing himself
out to earn a mere pitcher of atole and a handful of
beans? (The Underdogs, p. 61)
Demetrio has broken the dominance-subjugation relation
ship, and he cannot go back. In this sense, he is an amal
gamated peasant. O n his w ay back to the canyon, he stops by
his house to say goodbye to his wife. She begs him not to
go, but to no av ail. After she controls her sobbing, she
asks her husband w hy he keeps on fighting. Demetrio re
sponds with a frown, then picks up a stone and throws it to
the bottom of the canyon. Staring pensively at the arch of
its flight, he te lls his wife, "Look at that stone; how it
keeps on going . . ." (p. 147). The m om entum that the Revo
lution creates w ill keep Demetrio moving, like the stone
falling. Even in the end, Demetrio does not "die," but
levels his eyes eternally and continues to aim his r if l e .
Luis Cervantes is, figuratively, at the bottom of that
canyon. The amalgamated bourgeoisie, the "flies," have in
their favor the "force of in e rtia ," and the unthinking
stones that rise must inevitably fa ll into their hands, as
Azuela has explained earlier. The Revolution of the urban
240
enclave had weakened or destroyed the traditional values of
m en like Demetrio, but it offered no suitable replacement
for those values. The amalgamated bourgeoisie, on the other
hand, was ideally suited to take advantage of this modern
revolution. Cervantes, for example, is a recipient in
political orientation. H e participates politically, but
that participation is not limited by concern for social
obligations linked with participation. His participation is
aimed at receiving more benefits. A s an amalgamated bour
geois, he has been socialized and recruited by elects.
Demetrio's army is a elect, as are virtually a ll other
organizations of revolutionary Mexico. Cervantes, then, is
"at home" in this environment. H e is able to influence the
output structures directly, in this case Demetrio and other
revolutionary officers. Unencumbered by modern social
standards of judgment, he is "morally free" to take advan
tage of a situation that is overflowing with opportunities.
W hen fortune turns on Demetrio's army, Luis knows the pre
cise m om ent to pull out and at the same time maximize his
material profit before leaving. Finally, Luis knows how to
survive. The "modern" idealist does not, as exemplified in
almost a ll of Azuela's works. Nor does the traditional m an
w ho gets caught up in the Revolution and keeps fighting like
241
a rolling stone. In short, Luis, the amalgamated man, self-
centered, opportunistic, is the favored species in the
changing environment. The Revolution, then, was genuine
only in the urban enclaves, where m en with new values re
placed a regime characterized by more traditional values.
But the heterogeneous nature of Mexican society subverted
the attempt by the new leaders to impose those revolutionary
values on less modern areas . For traditional m en like
Demetrio, the Revolution presented an opportunity to oppose
the cacique's malevolent use of power in an organized man
ner. Demetrio w as articulating his interests according to
his traditional values. H e had to rely on the benevolence
of the cacique, w ho controlled the output functions, for
p olitical "favors." But the dominance-subjugation relation
ship depends on benevolence. If that variable is missing,
the only recourse of the subjugated individual is to articu
late his interests by violence. That is what Demetrio and
the other m en from El Lim on had done.
Ironically, it was the cacique himself w ho introduced
the "revolutionary" element into this relationship. D on
Monico escalated a personal grievance, involving interest
articulation in the face of paternal malevolence, into the
beginnings of a sociological grievance. B y calling Demetrio
242
a maderista, he was able to enlist the aid of the federal
government in his dispute. But the introduction of this
outside agency to the personal grievance led firs t to or
ganized resistance on the part of the subjugated, and even
tually to their alliance with a counterpart outside agency.
From that firs t, tentative liaison with the distant Revolu
tion, these traditional m en were inexorably swept into its
center.
Solis, the representative of the revolutionary values
of the modern enclave, could see that his new values had
nothing to do with Demetrio's involvement in the fighting.
H e is the only character w ho is alienated from an environ
ment which has rejected his values. H e sees his race wear
ing a grotesque mask, and this aspect of the Revolution is
viewed as tyranny and vain bloodshed. H e feels powerless,
and his response is to withdraw. H e is no longer p a rtic i
pating in the Revolution, merely observing. W hen he is
killed, he is observing a battle going on below him from
the top of a mountain. His death symbolizes the failure of
the amalgamated intellectual revolutionary ideology in the
nonmodern Mexican environment.
In The Underdogs, Azuela sees the mass Revolution as
being imposed from above, and the Revolution is a cause,
243
rather than an effect. It caused the beginning of change in
traditional valuesj it did not result from a change in those
values. A nd the direction of change is toward the modern
values. W hat the Revolution has done, in terms of a ll of
Mexican society, is change the values necessary to gain
political dominance. In the firs t phase of the Revolution,
the values of the amalgamated intellectual enclave had
been dominant, although that group w as a numerical minority.
With the Revolution, the dominant group, both in terms of
power and in number, has become the amalgamated bourgeoisie.
Bocanegra and Cervantes represent this emergent group in
Azuela's fiction. In the last two works of his revolution
ary cycle, Azuela w ill trace further the emergence of the
amalgamated bourgeoisie in Mexico.
The Triumph of the Amalgamated
Bourgeoisie
B y the year 1916, the v illis ta movement had been effec
tively shattered and the "Indomitable Lord of the Sierra"
would never again be a national power. Zapata had withdrawn
to his hom e state of Morelos. From the turmoil and devas
tation that had been tearing the nation apart since 1910,
the m an w ho emerged as the dominant national figure was an
aristocratic Diaz politician named Venustiano Carranza. T o
244
Azuela, the "vain bloodshed" he had anticipated in The
Underdogs w as now a reality . It was a thoroughly d isillu
sioned, b itterly anti-carranzista novelist w ho returned to
Mexico City in 1916.
Azuela established himself in the nation's capital by
building up a medical practice, and at the same time he
continued to write. It is during this period that he writes
The F lies. Domitilo W ants to B e a Congressman (diputado), and
The Trials of a Decent Family. Azuela was anguished by what
he saw during the regime of the F irst Chief. Carranza's
ow n ideas tended to be counterrevolutionary* but, even
though he became president, he could not prevent the adop
tion of the radical Constitution of 1917. It w as a d if f i
cult period in Mexican history: after emerging from years
of fighting, the nation had a landed aristocrat as president
and a constitution which called for the revision of the
basic structures of society. It is not surprising that
Azuela saw contradictions, dishonesty, opportunism, hypoc
risy, and favoritism as the predominant aspects of the Car
ranza regime.
In this atmosphere and in his mental state, Azuela
reverted to creating types that were either a ll good or all
evil. In The Flies and in Domitilo. there is no re lie f from
245
a series of characters w ho have no good qualities in them at
a ll. This type of characterization lessens the a rtistic
merit of both works as novels; but they are s t i l l valuable
interpretations of the final phase of the Revolution, a l
though admittedly not written by a to tally objective obser
ver .
Domitilo W ants to B e a
Congressman
The main character of Domitilo is the t itle character's
father, don Serapio. Of humble origin in the provincial
town of El Peron, Serapio has risen to a position of con
siderable power as Municipal Treasurer. Serapio attributes
his success to the following of one basic principle: always
collaborate with the power holders, regardless of their
ideologies or values. A s he states it in his ow n words, he
has been guided by one maxim since his youth: "T o live is
9
to adapt oneself to the environment."
The revolutionary years have presented the ultimate
test of the sk ills of adaptation, and don Serapio has met
the challenge b rillia n tly . O ne of the humble townsmen
Q
Mariano Azuela, Domitilo quiere ser diputado (Mexico
City: Ediciones Botas, 1945), p. 156.
246
explains to a detractor how only through the sk ill and
cleverness of Serapio have they
. . . succeeded in escaping from our Redeemers, from
senor Madero to this senor First Chief. Because of
[Serapio] w e knew just when to disband the "Hero of the
Second of April Reelection Club," and when Madero t r i
umphed, w e already had formed an "Aquiles Serdan Club."
At the in itiativ e of don Serapio the "Restorationist
Junta of the Order of Peace and Justice" was formed at
just the right time; one year later the "Sons of Peron
League of Social Defense"; when the V illistas entered
town, don Serapio m ade a simple Municipal Government,
and before they even finished pulling out of town, w e
had already met to organize the "Jesus Carranza Liberal
Party." (p. 12 3)
The only other interesting character in the novel, and
the only one w ho rivals don Serapio in his opportunism, is
the Carranza-appointed provisional governor of the town.
His name, which he has given himself, is Xicotencatl Robes
pierre Cebollino. The nam e is designed to illu strate the
bearer's radical p o litical orientation, which is of course
totally fraudulent. Cebollino further shows that he is not
a slave to tradition by naming his two children "One" and
"Two."
The plot involves one simple incident that serves to
demonstrate the favoritism, corruption, and opportunism of
the Carranza administration. D on Serapio wants his son to
become a representative in congress . Of course the boorish
247
Domitilo is completely unworthy of such a position, but it
happens that he had been a schoolmate of General Cebollino.
The plans are just about finalized when a snag develops. A
blackmailer informs Serapio that he is in possession of a
congratulatory telegram written by Serapio to Victoriano
Huerta, and that he will give the telegram to the "radical"
Cebollino if his demands are not met. Despite Serapio's
efforts, the telegram finds its w ay to the general. Serapio
trembles as Cebollino reads the telegram, fearful that he
m ay lose m uch more than the prospective political position
of his son. But Cebollino's response demonstrates with
ironic humor the rampant opportunism and hypocrisy of the
administration: he bursts out laughing, and informs Serapio
and Domitilo that he also had served Huerta, and he wonders
what the town would think if they knew that he had served
Porfirio Diaz as well. H e even brags that, as a porfirista,
". . . 1 hanged more maderistas than Huerta, Blanquet, and
Urrutia put together ..." (p. 183).
The characters in this novel represent the realization
of Azuela's worst fears. His novels of the Revolution have
become more and more negative, and there is none in which
the author is more cynical than in Domitilo. The fighting
is over, and the result of a ll that agony has been the
248
emergence of the "flies, 1 1 the opportunists, the frauds— the
amalgamated bourgeoisie, as they are being conceptualized
in this study.
The characters described above are extensions of the
amalgamated m en w ho have appeared in a ll of Azuela's novels
since the firs t of the cycle of the Revolution, The Fail
ures . N ow , in the time of Carranza, they have emerged as
the dominant group in Mexican society. Serapio and Cebol
lino are both provincial middle class. Both exhibit a ll the
characteristics of the amalgamated bourgeoisie. They are
recipients in political orientation. The group structures
are elects• in fact, the lis t of organizations formed by
Serapio, from the porfirista club to the Jesus Carranza
Liberal Party, is a classic example of elects in the amal
gamated society. Serapio articulates his interests directly
to the output structure, in this case the provisional gov
ernor Cebollino.
The whole effort to get Domitilo into congress is a
good illustration of the amalgamated p o litical process in
action. Serapio and Domitilo exhibit modern individual
values in aspiring to a modern position, congressman. In
their individual context, such values as activism, indi
vidualism, mobility, and p o litical participation can be seen
249
in father and son. But modern characteristics in their
social context are absent. The result is an amalgamation
of traditional social contexts with modern individual con
texts; a subject p olitical orientation in relation to social
interactions amalgamates with a participant individual a t t i
tude. Serapio's hierarchical, authoritarian view of society
amalgamates with his view of himself as a participant; the
result is a recipient w ho participates in an authoritarian
w ay in order to satisfy his p o litical needs.
There is no evidence of political alienation in this
novel. The characters are amalgamated in values and are
integrated with an amalgamated p olitical process. They are
able to convert their p olitical expectations into political
benefits. Serapio sum m ed up the principles that serve as
standards of judgment for these amalgamated m en with his
classic line, "To live is to adapt oneself to his environ
ment." With that philosophy serving as the underlying
premise for their values and norms, the amalgamated m en
became the beneficiaries of the Revolution.
The Trials of a Decent Family
With the publication in 1918 of The Trials of a Decent
Family. Mariano Azuela closes out his literary interpreta
250
tion of the Revolution. This work is generally acclaimed as
one of his best novels, and the best of the novels of the
Revolution after The Underdogs. In Trials Azuela describes
events that occur in the same years as those depicted in
The Underdogs, 1914 through 1916. But the perspective is
entirely different; while the action in The Underdoqs is
seen from the point of view of the rural, fighting masses,
the later work describes the tribulations of an aristo
cratic, civilian family, a "decent" family as they see them
selves, during this same period.
In 1914, the combined efforts of Venustiano Carranza,
Alvaro Obregon, and Francisco Villa resulted in the defeat
of the reactionary Huerta regime. After Huerta fled into
exile, Obregon occupied the capital and proclaimed Carranza
the First Chief of the nation. Mexico City suffered som e
disruptions in the form of lack of services and general
abuse from the rugged revolutionary fighters. The situation
was to get worse as a power struggle developed, in which the
soldiers of Villa and Emiliano Zapata encamped in the suf
fering capital before the carranzistas finally regained
control.
The action in Trials of a Decent Family centers on the
Vazquez Prados. A family of substance, they decide to flee
251
their native Zacatecas to seek refuge from the revolutionary
army that is threatening their city. They plan to stay in
the safety of Mexico City for a few weeks, by which time
they are sure that the Huerta forces will have dealt with
the rebels . The course of the Revolution alters that plan;
and, while they dream of restoration, they are gradually
impoverished to the point of complete destitution.
The novel is interesting for its description of c iv i
lian life in Mexico City during these turbulent years; but
its literary merit, and its value to this study, are based
on Azuela's characterizations. H e takes seven individuals,
a ll pertaining to or associated with an aristocratic family
from a trad itio n alist, static part of society, places them
in an alien environment, and then describes the psychologi
cal changes that take place in each of the individuals as
they struggle to adapt themselves to the new situation.
Azuela has explored this theme consistently in his
novels of the Revolution; but up to this point, adjusting
to one's environment has always meant being self-centered
and opportunistic. The Del Llanos, Bocanegra, Cervantes,
don Serapio, a ll of Azuela's people have either been s e lf
ishly opportunistic or they have not survived in the changed
environment. With the exception of Cervantes, these
252
characters were not developed by Azuela. It w as predeter
mined that they would be opportunistic in a w ay that clashed
with modern social values, and Azuela merely described the
particular form of opportunism that occurred in a particular
circumstance.
The Trials of a Decent Family is different, because the
response of the family members is not predetermined. They
have a choice, an alternative to selfish opportunism.
Azuela illustrates through his characters that som e indi
viduals can find the inner strength to face this disaster
courageously and to emerge from it in a positive way. In
describing this mental process of choosing, Azuela develops
his characters to something beyond the mere types of his
earlier works. A nd in having som e of his characters choose
an alternative to opportunism, he has shown optimism over
the results of the Revolution for the firs t and only time in
his novels.
The characters in The Trials of a Decent Family can be
grouped according to the type of adjustment they finally
make, although each individual's choice becomes evident only
as he "develops" through the course of the novel. O n the
one hand are those w ho choose opportunism and the total d is
regard of principle in their effort to maintain their
253
aristocratic position: Agustinita, the mother of the fam
ily; Berta and Francisco Jose, two of her children; and
Pascual, the husband of Berta. O n the other hand are those
w ho adjust to their new situation by accepting and adhering
to modern values: Procopio, the father of the family and
the protagonist of the novel; Lulu, the other daughter in
the family; and Archibaldo, w ho is Lulu's romantic interest.
A s their material resources slowly evaporate into the
terrifying ambience of Mexico City, the only recourse is to
pawn their possessions one by one. A s aristocrats, they
cannot be expected to work, so they can only watch passively
as the situation worsens. The family members react somewhat
differently to this tr ia l. Procopio feels shame, disgraced
at watching his family reduced to wearing seedy clothes and
eating to rtilla s and beans . H e becomes distant, depressed,
losing interest in himself and in his surroundings. Agus-
tin ita fervently relies on Divine Providence to restore the
"decent" people to their proper place and to strike dow n
these animal-like revolutionaries. Her only relief is to
nag her husband constantly, reminding him how he is failing
as a provider. Pascual is the only character w ho actively
tries to do something to improve the family's circumstances.
H e makes contact with som e important carranzistas, and in
254
due time he and his wife Berta are living in a huge mansion
and enjoying a prosperity that has com e with Pascual's new
position in the Carranza administration.
Pascual comes to the financial aid of his in-laws, and
in so doing he becomes a heroic savior in the eyes of Agus
tin ita , Francisco Jose, and Berta. Procopio accepts the
help, but it rankles . H e feels even more useless and
ashamed, and whenever he criticizes the lack of principles
associated with Pascual's wealth, his wife merely points out
his ow n failure as a family head. A nd Pascual does not help
family unity, as he obviously enjoys his new position in
relation to his father-in-law.
The antagonism between Pascual and Procopio eventually
causes a climactic confrontation. Pascual announces that
the family nam e appears on the lis t of personal enemies of
the Carranza regime and that the land-holdings of a ll such
enemies are to be confiscated. H e proposes, as the only w ay
to save the family resources, that a ll lands be transferred
to his name. Procopio hesitates, for he is suspicious of
his corrupt son-in-law, but he finally signs over the family
property. W hen he realizes later that the whole affair was
a deliberate plot by Pascual to dispossess the family of its
last remaining source of wealth, Procopio sinks to the
255
depths of despair. There is nothing left to live for, so he
borrows a pistol and sets out to murder Pascual.
Lulu is barely able to thwart her father's murderous
intentions, and she also is able to console him with her
love and loyalty. Procopio can fa ll no further. H e has
lost everything: wealth, pride, and the respect of his
family. But at this point, as he has been stripped of the
last vestige of his aristocracy, he begins to change. Draw
ing strength from the love of Lulti and from a v isit to
church, Procopio shaves, cleans up his unkempt clothing, and
disappears for a week. W hen he returns, there is no evi
dence of his previous deep melancholy, and he places a tidy
sum of m oney on the family table. Procopio's life becomes
ordered and efficient. H e leaves every morning, returns in
the evening, and once a week brings hom e enough money to
keep the family comfortable. H e w ill say nothing as to the
source of the money, but Lulu solves the mystery one day by
following her father. W hen she finds out that he is working
at a menial position— cashier in a theatre— she is appalled.
But, demonstrating that she is her father's daughter, she
marches into the establishment and asks for a job herself.
Their acceptance of menial employment is an act at least
equal in courage to the most daring of military deeds
256
associated with the Revolution.
Archibaldo is also working at the theatre, as a
prompter. H e is now able to ask for the hand of Lulu, some
thing he w as reluctant to do earlier because of the social
and economic gap between the family and himself. Procopio
and Lulu approve, and a d ifficu lt romantic relationship is
finally settled. Procopio also reasserts himself as the
firm, but just, head of his household. Thus Procopio, Lulu,
and Archibaldo have rebuilt their lives in a way that is
bringing them satisfaction.
The novel ends with the simultaneous deaths of the pro
tagonist and the antagonist. Pascual, w ho has grown weal
thier and more important, is shot and killed by a fellow
carranzista at a drunken orgy. Procopio, whose health had
deteriorated during this period of crisis, falls i l l and
dies with his family at his bedside and with the trace of a
smile on his face.
Azuela's characters in his last novel of the Revolution
remain consistent with the m axim expressed by don Serapio,
"T o live is to adapt oneself to his environment." But in
his characterization of Procopio, Azuela adds an important
element to the implication of that maxim. Before Procopio,
the Revolution created an environment that favored the
257
amalgamated bourgeoisiej and a ll of his amalgamated bour
geoisie took advantage of the new environment by being
opportunistic. That is, th eir actions and decisions were
based on expediency and not on any underlying principles or
social values. Azuela, believing that a ll individuals have
certain obligations to the group, viewed this type of be
havior, and therefore the Revolution, in a negative way.
But with Procopio, Azuela adds an entirely different dimen
sion to the process of "adapting to one's environment."
Procopio is an amalgamated cacique w ho is thrust into an
urban environment. H e comes close to perishing, but he
finally learns to adapt. H e te lls his daughter: "H o w
cruelly punished [was] m y immense dignity! But, in another
way, what immense satisfaction in fighting hand to hand with
adverse destiny!"'*'^
Procopio's adaptation centers on mobility through hon
est menial labor. H e has rejected the opportunistic form of
adaptation offered by Pascual because such behavior would
violate his social standards of judgment. For the firs t
time, Azuela offers the possibility that amalgamation can
Mariano Azuela, Las tribulaciones de una familia
decente, ed. Frances Hendricks and Beatrice Berler (N ew
York: Macmillan Co., 1966), p. 133.
258
produce positive changes in the w ay an individual behaves in
his interactions with society.
H o w does Azuela explain "the Triumph of Procopio," as
he entitled the second part of this novel? There are som e
things in Procopio's background that m ay have contributed to
his positive adaptation to the Revolution. H e was not born
of the hacendado class, but of fairly humble middle-class
stock. H e became an aristocrat by virtue of his marriage to
Agustinita. H e w as a reader of books, and as a cacique he
was renowned for his kind treatment of peones. Procopio, in
short, w as not a typical hacendado even before he cam e to
Mexico City. But his deviation from the hacendado mold
cannot be explained satisfactorily by his background alone.
For one thing, Pascual, the antithesis of Procopio, cam e
from similar social circumstances. Azuela seems to be say
ing that ultimately the individual can react in a positive
w ay to the revolutionary environment through his ow n free
w ill. Sociological influences are important, but so is the
basic character of the individual. The interpretation that
positive changes can result from the Revolution, and that
those positive changes are promoted by the individual's
character orientation as well as environmental features, is
the only optimistic aspect of Azuela's novels of the
259
Revolution.
The entire Vazquez family w as alienated from the revo
lutionary regimes that had disrupted their lives and
stripped them of their privileged positions in society.
Procopio's powerlessness led him to deep depression and
to tal withdrawal from his environment. Lulu, frustrated by
her powerlessness, looked for ways to take action on their
situation, but she was limited to giving encouragement to
her father. The rest of the family remained alienated and
relied on Divine Providence to restore society to "God's
intended order."
After his transformation, Procopio sees beyond the
corruption and immorality of the Carranza regime and accepts
the more modern society that is emerging in the capital. H e
views the change as one that has liberated him from his role
as an exploiter. His life as an aristocrat w as meaningless,
because he was nothing more than a "decorative figure."
N ow , he has found meaning and purpose through his work, and
satisfaction in his role as family head:
Because now I provide for m y wife and children; because
now I speak as the head of the house should, when he
wants to and what he wants to. Because now I am myself.
. . . A nd the saddest thing is that I didn't even realize
the emptiness of m y previous role. I discovered the yoke
that imprisoned m e only when I held its pieces in m y
hands. (p. 134)
260
Procopio's triumph is Azuela's anticipation of the
triumph of the Revolution. A t a time when the "grotesque
mask of the race" is at its ugliest, Azuela creates a char
acter w ho embodies the positive aspects of the Revolution.
It is true that Procopio is mortally wounded by the pain and
suffering he endured in his transformation. H e was a casu
alty of the Revolution as m uch as Demetrio Macias. But
Procopio has led the w ay for Lulu and Archibaldo, w ho seem
destined to be active, integrated members of a new type of
society. Procopio's example has even affected Agustinita,
at least to the point that she realizes her mistake in con
doning Pascual's corruption. At the end of the novel, she
is lecturing Francisco Jose, trying to m ake him understand
that happiness stems from the hom e and the family and not
from prestige and wealth.
In Francisco Jose's response, Azuela is saying that the
building of a new society will not be easy. After a ll the
family has endured, Francisco Jose is s t i l l a Vazquez Prado
from Zacatecas. H e is not evil or violent, but he simply
cannot change. H e is a poet, sheltered from the real world
by his mother, and he will remain a decorative figure, full
of pretension and expecting that others will recognize his
b irth rig h t. In this new environment there are the Pascuals
261
and the Francisco Joses. But, for the firs t time in
Azuela's interpretation of the Revolution, another possi
b ility exists.
CHAPTER VII
A Z U E L A A N D P O S T R E V O L U T IO N A R Y M E X IC O
Following the publication of The Trials of a Decent
Family, Mariano Azuela w as to wait five years before writing
another novel. That is a rather long period of inactivity,
especially for an author w ho had written six novels between
the years 1911 and 1918, and it is quite natural that
critics should puzzle over this hiatus. Virtually a ll
critics attribute Azuela's silence, at least in part, to the
lack of attention paid to his earlier novels. It m ay be
that Azuela perceived a conspiracy to keep his works, so
revolutionary in theme and style, from becoming known.
The lite ra ti of that day must have been disturbed by
Azuela's themes and style, which were sharp departures from
the "establishment novelist" mold that w as so comfortable
to them. In support of this contention, it should be remem
bered that the novels of the Revolution represent only one
facet of Mexican literature during this time. Other Mexican
262
263
writers were producing works that cam e to be called "colo
n ia list novels, " a body of works in which e litis t novelists
tended to compare their country with Europe. These novels
of national introversion are characterized by an affected,
archaic style that serves to enhance the idea of looking
back into the past; and they were motivated, at least in
part, by the desire to escape the confusion of contemporary
reality . These colonialist novels also serve to emphasize
the remarkable intuition and spontaneity of Mariano Azuela.
Even as late as the mid-192Os, the lite ra ti were not aware
of, or not ready to accept, the depth and the breadth of the
events that had taken place in their presence. Apart from
Azuela, the novels of the Revolution were very few, and they
were vastly outnumbered by colonialist novels.'*'
W hen Azuela did finally produce another novel, there is
ample evidence that he had studied the techniques and styles
of North American, European, and "Establishment Mexican"
prose writing. In his three novels written between the
years 1924 and 1926, Azuela compromised his simple, direct
^See Brushwood, pp. 235-238, for a complete lis t of
novels published in Mexico from 1832 to 1963. Brushwood
expresses the opinion that the most readable of the numerous
colonialist novels is Julio Jimenez Rueda's Moisen (1924).
264
style, his use of dialog as opposed to description, and his
emphasis on the physical. H e experimented with a more
e llip tic a l type of narration, greater use of imagery, a
nonsequential chronology, and long, rambling "stream of con
sciousness" type passages. Also, the Revolution no longer
serves as the focal point for these experimental novels.
It seems clear that these innovations in Azuela's prose
resulted in som e measure from the disappointing response to
his earlier novels . Stung by the poor reception of his
straightforward works, Azuela wrote what have com e to be
called his hermetic novels. H e later admitted that they
were written with tongue in cheek and deliberately tinged
with surrealism in order to achieve novelty (Obras comple-
ta s , III, 1113). Unquestionably, Azuela's new novels are
d ifficu lt to comprehend, perhaps by the deliberate design of
the author. But Azuela did not adopt, or imitate, his Euro
pean peers; he adapted som e new techniques, but he is s t i l l
the spontaneous, intuitive observer of his people.
Experimental Novels
Azuela broke his five-year silence with the publication
of The Evil W o m an (La malhora) in 192 3. In those five years,
the epic phase of the Revolution had ended and the country
265
had become more stable. Emiliano Zapata was murdered in
1919 at the orders of the First Chief, Venustiano Carranza.
Carranza himself was overthrown and murdered in 1920. Pan-
cho Villa was ambushed and murdered in 192 3. Alvaro Obregon
became president in 192 0, and he managed to reconcile enough
of the numerous factions in the country to bring a semblance
of order to the exhausted nation. Reconciliation meant
compromise, and while Obregon w as able to begin implementa
tion of som e of the reforms called for in the Constitution
of 1917, conservative and middle-class elements succeeded in
modifying the more radical, popular side of the revolution
ary program. In a way Obregon represents a synthesis of the
two extremes that had been warring since 1911. Neither
restorationist nor radical, Obregon represented, more than
any other group, the emergent urban middle class, the bour
geoisie and the proletariat of Mexico City.
Mexico City was now the hub of revolutionary activity
and the center of power for the nation. A nd Mariano Azuela
lived, worked, observed, and wrote in this dynamic environ
ment. In The Evil W om an. Azuela presents a picture of the
city and the social groups w ho live in i t .
The main character in the novel is a young g irl named
Altagracia. At age fifteen she is already a depraved, wild,
266
obscene, and alcoholic prostitute w ho practices her trade in
El Tepito, a slum section of Mexico City. Her nickname, The
Evil One, indicates that she is notorious for her behavior
even am ong the hard underworld crowd with which she associ
ates .
The story consists of a series of episodes in which the
protagonist is seen within four distinct setting s. The
novel opens with the Evil O ne dancing drunkenly and ob
scenely in a brothel of El Tepito. T w o of the characters
introduced in the opening scene will reappear throughout the
novel and seem to be the cause of the Evil One's miseries.
They are Marcelo, a cruel, quick-tempered patron of the
brothel, and La Tapatxa, a prostitute w ho with age has
learned to avoid the excessive type of behavior that is a
characteristic of the younger Evil One. The firs t scene
ends when violence erupts in the brothel. There is a mur
der, and the Evil O ne has been gravely wounded. It is un
clear at the time, but at the end of the novel it is re
vealed that the dead m an is the Evil One's father, and that
she was wounded trying to avenge his death.
This event leads the Evil O ne to a totally different
environment. During her stay in the hospital, a kindly
doctor accepts the challenge of rehabilitating her. The
2 67
doctor turns out to be slightly mad. H e is a theosophist
w ho believes that "In order to live w e must forget and fan-
2
tasize." In his fantasies he som ehow associates Altagra-
cia, as she is called in this environment, with Lenin. In
spite of the doctor's abnormality, or perhaps because of it,
he succeeds in bringing order into Altagracia's life . H e
has preached a doctrine of pardon for past sins, and he has
exposed Altagracia to "liberty, fraternity, and equality."
Altagracia leaves the doctor's care as a new person. She
"loves thy neighbor," she is abstaining from the pulque and
marijuana which had been responsible for her downfall, and
she is going out into society in search of gainful employ
ment .
Altagracia becomes a maid in the service of three de
vout ladies, the sisters Gutierrez from Irapuato. Provin
cial aristocrats, the sisters had com e to Mexico City to
escape the Revolution. They quickly lost their fortune to
the "sharks" of Mexico City and were reduced to taking in
sewing. Altagracia's environment has changed from one of
liberty and equality to one in which there is ". . . a
2
Mariano Azuela, La malhora— El desquite (Mexico City:
Ediciones Botas, 1941), p. 45.
268
hierarchical attitude in simple gestures, a superior life in
perpetual work and perpetual prayer" (p. 52).
For Altagracia, the atmosphere is stiflin g ; but she
lives by every standard imposed upon her for five years .
Finally, those "days of lead, 1 1 which turn into years of
blind obedience and mindless praise of God, ". . . buttress
here and there the vague and disorderly ideas brought from
the house of the crazy, martyred doctor" (p. 54). Alta
gracia has become like her masters. She te lls them, "I want
to confess and take communion like you, every day" (p. 54).
But that is not to be Altagracia's destiny. Outside
the church, she sees by coincidence her old arch-enemy, La
Tapatia. A loud, obscene fight ensues. Altagracia again
becomes the Evil One, emerging from the fight with a piece
of the earlobe of her opponent between her teeth. The pious
sisters, alternately holding their ears and covering their
eyes, release their maid on the spot.
Altagracia manages to get another position, this time
caring for an old Porfirian general. But Altagracia's
health has begun to deteriorate. She cannot sleep, has con
stant headaches, and is generally run down. Unable to per
form her duties satisfactorily, she loses that job also.
The Evil One's next stop is her old haunt. She again
269
tastes the pulque, and becoming drunk, she seeks out her old
enemies. The ending of the novel is d ifficu lt to interpret.
The Evil O ne is intent upon stabbing both L a Tapatia and
Marcelo. But in a scuffle, La Tapatia's false teeth clatter
to the floor. Instead of pulling a knife, the Evil O ne pro
duces a rosary. Azuela closes the novel with this line:
"The Evil O ne ground two lenses to correct her mental astig
matism" (p. 77). Azuela himself gave this clarification
som e twenty years after he wrote the line: the Evil O ne
saw clearly the true situation of her enemies, now old
and beaten down by life, and she forgave them with the
most profound contempt. She didn't k ill either La Tapa
tia or Marcelo. Her vengeance was in scorning them.^
The Evil O ne was written at the beginning of a new era
in Mexican history. The epic phase of the Revolution was
over and the period of reconstruction w as just getting under
way. Because of the Revolution, Mexican society was to be
reconstructed along new lin es. O ne of the immediate results
of the Revolution was the rapid growth of urban areas, es
pecially the metropolitan area of Mexico City. Mariano
Azuela, the perceptive eyewitness to the Revolution, proved
to be equally perceptive of the impact of urbanization on
3
Quoted m Langford, p. 28.
270
post-Revolutionary Mexican society. It would be hard to
deny that urban slums and slum-dwellers represent a severe
problem for Mexico today. Mariano Azuela anticipated the
significance of the problem of the urban poor. In 1923 he
depicted the plight of this social group, their interactions
with each other and with the rest of society, for the firs t
time in the Mexican novel.
Azuela's protagonist is especially interesting, because
she actually breaks out of her slum environment. But the
author is not demonstrating optimism and hope for the re
habilitation of such people as Altagracia. O n the contrary,
he makes it clear that the Evil O ne does not control the
changes in her environment by her ow n actions. She is
forced to te ll her life story to a police interrogator after
the murder of her father, because the policeman realizes
that "... there is no tragedy without antecedents" (The
Evil One, p. 23). Altagracia's background includes parents
w ho "lived a life of fantasy and fighting" as they tried to
succeed in the urban, middle-class environment. Her mother
finally deserted the family, and Altagracia was "suddenly on
the street, hanging around restaurants, the plaza, the stage
of Tepito and the restj the friends w ho teach you things
. . . But such things I " (p. 23).
271
The Evil One's escape from her slum culture is ex
plained by fortuitous circumstance, and not by any adherence
to modern values of individualism and mobility. In fact,
she lacks norms of any kind, and for that reason she is
susceptible to any doctrine with which she comes into con
tact. It is ironic and significant that her firs t step out
of the slum was m ade possible by a doctor w ho w as insane.
This is the only environment in which she was exposed to
modern values and treated as an equal human being.
The morality underlying the doctor's efforts is based
on the "abnormal" theosophistic claim to divine insight.
But when Altagracia is exposed to the accepted moral doc
trine, through her contact with the Gutierrez sisters, the
result is complete subjugation and a stultifying existence.
While the sisters are not crazy, they are satirized harshly
by Azuela for their blind faith that robs them of their
humanity. In migrating to Mexico City, "... they . . .
packed their bags, their purified piety, their irreproach
able stupidity, they put a rooster in a basket and took the
train, praying: Holy, holy, holy ..." (p. 50).
Five years of daily prayers and abstinence from a ll
pleasures had molded Altagracia into a subservient replica
of her superiors. But in one minute these features of
272
traditional culture were stripped away and Altagracia became
the Evil O ne once again. A nd the religious convictions of
the pious sisters did not include forgiveness, for they
released their maid instantly and retreated more deeply into
their devout world.
The Porfirian general had nothing to offer Altagracia
in the w ay of values and norms. H e blames Altagracia's
plight on her racial background:
You're not to blame, g irl. I t's the fault of the
stupid gachupin [derogatory term for the Spanish con
quistador] , w ho didn't know how to do with you what the
yankee did with the Redskins . . . Beautiful country!
The Great Nation! (p. 64)
Altagracia's poor health and subsequent medical con
sultation finally lead to her becoming conscious of her
deprivation and poverty in comparison to middle-class stand
ards . She is told that her poor physical condition cannot
be improved by scientific and medical knowledge, because her
condition has resulted from a life of malnutrition and hard
ship. Altagracia sees that her personality has been deter
mined by ". . . where I was born and am ong what people I was
raised" (p. 71) .
Azuela has created a protagonist w ho is a hopeless
victim of her environment. There is no hope for a permanent
273
change in the personality of Altagracia. Her formative
background dictates that she w ill always belong spiritually
to El Tepito. The only thing that her sojourn in the middle
class has accomplished has been to m ake her aware of her
deprivation. This alienates her from the culture to which
she once belonged, and now she belongs nowhere. She ex
presses her awareness and subsequent feeling of isolation in
an interior monologue as she is leaving the hospital:
Good-by, good doctor. I go lamenting m y incurable
remedy and the hopes that I leave buried here.
O h, if you only wouldn't have asked m e so m uch I . . .
Because your questions were daggers in m y heart. (p. 71)
The protagonist is no longer a whole person. Her two
sides emerge together in the final scene, where the Evil O ne
attacks her enemies with violence, but Altagracia (a nam e
whose English equivalent would be "Highgrace") pulls out a
rosary and forgives. Part of her will belong in El Tepito
no longer. But another part will never escape.
In 1925, Azuela published the second of his experimen
ta l novels, The Revenge (El desqu^te) . It is ironic that in
this short novel Azuela made his greatest departure from his
earlier style, for, as he was writing The Revenge. The Under
dogs w as being "discovered" and acclaimed by Mexican c ritic s.
2 74
In contrast to his earlier work, Azuela narrates almost all
the action in this novel indirectly. The narrator is a
medical doctor w ho interviews various characters, and
through these conversations the action is revealed. But
the revelations are not sequential. Azuela is offering
pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, one at a time; and the whole
picture is not clear until the final piece has fallen into
place.
While the techniques and the style employed by Azuela
are interesting and innovative in Mexican literature, the
subject matter of this particular novel limits its useful
ness to this study. The story involves an aristocratic
family of a provincial town, most likely the author's hom e
town, Lagos de Moreno. Lupe, the daughter, is a descendant
of the founders of the town and thus can trace her lineage
back to 1647. For economic reasons, she breaks her engage
ment to a young m an of her ow n class and marries Bias, a
muleteer and a huachichile Indian.
Predictably, the union of such widely disparate social
classes, motivated by economic considerations, is a stormy
one. The difficulties of the couple are exacerbated by the
fact that they are childless, which leads to their adoption
of the youngest brother of Bias, Ricardito. Tim e passes,
275
Ricardo grows up, and when the Revolution comes, Ricardo is
able to amass a small fortune through his cleverness.
Having become modestly wealthy, Ricardo decides he
wants more; and to this end he conceives of a plan by which
he will inherit the wealth of his foster parents. The plan
involves disgracing his foster mother. After attempting to
seduce Lupe in front of witnesses and failing, Ricardo suc
ceeds in his divisive efforts by writing anonymous "poison
pen" letters to Bias. Bias and Lupe retreat to their rancho
to sort things out, but in a short time Bias dies . The
townspeople suspect foul play, but Lupe is judged innocent
after a tr ia l. While Azuela never makes the circumstances
surrounding the death of Bias clear, there is a suggestion
of moral, if not legal, responsibility on the part of Lupe.
She explains her husband's death in this way:
I did nothing more than defend m y life . . . m y life
and what belonged to me. D o you understand? There was
only one solution, to get rid of m y enemies. A nd there
was only one way to do th a t: alcohol. (El desquite,
p. 166)
Apparently Lupe had preyed upon Bias 1 tendency toward alco
holism, and in the isolation of the rancho she had promoted
his drinking himself to death. But Bias has his "revenge."
Lupe herself becomes addicted to alcohol, and the novel ends
276
with hallucinations of her dead husband tormenting her.
B y describing a marriage that crosses class lines,
Azuela has the opportunity to portray aristocratic attitudes
toward the lower classes in a provincial setting. These
attitudes manifest themselves in the importance attached to
family names, which Azuela satirizes with humor. After
detailing the illustrious names that form Lupe's family
tree, the background of Bias is described in generic terms:
"The little huachichile son of the big huachichile, descend
ants of the huachichiles. Nothing more" (p. 98). W hen a
visitor to the town inquires about a pretty g irl he sees in
the plaza, the following dialog takes place:
--W ho is she?
— H m l . . . the huachichile g irl . . .
— The huachichile girl? . . .
— Daughter of the big huachichile. sister of the l ittle
huachichile.
— Well, now I understand. Granddaughter of the huachi
chile and great granddaughter of the huachichile?
(p. 98)
Azuela points out that such names are transmitted from
generation to generation like original sin, and conversely,
the power and prestige of the people with the illustrious
names are transmitted as a Divine Right. Bias and Lupe
repudiated their predetermined statuses by getting married,
and this breach of tradition had to com e to a bad end. The
277
h o stility of the traditional townspeople, as m uch as the
conniving of Ricardo, brought an end to this attempt to
cross class lin es.
Azuela sees the Porfirian period of modernization as
one in which traditional values are weakened. The financial
difficulty of Lupe's family, as well as the affluence of
Bias, stem at least indirectly from modernization. But
economic change occurs more readily than social change. N o
matter how m uch wealth Bias might accumulate, he was s ti l l
the huachichile. The marriage to someone "above" him is an
unhappy one and ends in tragedy. Both of the figures w ho
violated the norms of their community become addicted to
alcohol, which at once causes the death of Bias and is the
instrument of his vengeance.
While the action in the novel spans fifteen years of
prerevolutionary and revolutionary activ ities, the Revolu
tion its e lf plays a very minor role. There are only passing
references made to the fortunes of various national leaders,
and national events seem to have no direct effect on the
characters. Ricardo's prosperity is linked to the unsettled
conditions caused by the Revolution, but not in any specific
way; nevertheless, Azuela does portray the feeling that the
society of the provincial town is being affected by those
2 78
distant events. Bias is dead and Lupe has been destroyed
as a person; but Ricardo, whose background bridged the two
social groups of the town, survived and prospered.
Written in 1926, but not published until 1932, The
Firefly (La luciernaga) w as the last and the best of Azu
ela 's experimental novels. In fact, most critics agree that
The Firefly, The Underdogs, and Trials of a Decent Family
are Azuela's three best works. The Firefly owes its c r it i
cal acclaim to Azuela's sk ill in developing the three main
characters of the work. Azuela again uses interior mono
logues, as he did in his two other innovative novels; and
in The Firefly he employs this device to skillfu lly present
psychological studies of his personages, w ho represent com
m on types in Mexican society.
The story involves an aristocratic family from the
provincial town of Cieneguilla. The father of the family
has just died, and the older brother, Jose Maria, has in
herited most of the family holdings. The younger brother,
Dionisio, receives a rather large sum of cash as his in
heritance. Dionisio decides that he can become a success
ful entrepreneur in Mexico City and that his four children
can receive a m uch better education in the capital. With
those ends in mind, and in spite of the reluctance of the
279
wife, Conchita, the family moves to Mexico City.
Azuela divides the work into four distinct parts,
similar to the structure of The Evil W om an. In this way he
can contrast and compare different characters and different
cultures within Mexican society. While this structure was
used to contrast the slum life of Mexico City with its
middle-class culture through one character in The Evil
W om an, Azuela now uses three different characters to con
tra st provincial life with that of the capital. In the
firs t part, Azuela portrays the slow, tragic degradation of
Dionisio and his family. Dionisio is easy prey for the
dishonest, opportunistic "sharks" that infest the o fficial
world of the Carranza regime and the cutthroat entrepre
neurial world of the city stre e ts . Every venture he tries
fails miserably. Soon the inheritance is gone and Dionisio
becomes apathetic and alcoholic. To m ake matters worse, the
two oldest children have fallen in with a fast crowd, and
the oldest daughter, Maria Cristina, practices prostitution
in order to put food on the family table. Dionisio becomes
so desperate that he finally tries to commit suicide by
crashing his truck into a streetcar. H e even fails in this,
as he is unhurt and several passengers are killed.
In the second part of the novel, Azuela moves the scene
280
to Cieneguilla. The older brother, Jose Maria, is dying of
tuberculosis. In his final days, he reflects on his life,
and in this long, rambling interior monologue Azuela reveals
a dry, miserly m an w ho has scarcely lived at a ll.
U pon the death of Jose Maria, the scene shifts back to
the capital. Dionisio has a new financial opportunity, for
he has inherited his brother's estate ‘ 3 and this time he is
an economic success. H e has learned to survive in the
entrepreneurial world of Mexico City by being merciless,
opportunistic, and corrupt. His chief mentor is a w om an
called La Generala (the General's woman), w ho has one sk ill
that is a prerequisite to any business success: she can buy
off the numerous government officials of the Calles regime,
w ho otherwise fine and tax a budding capitalist into finan
cial ruin.
Dionisio's business, with the help of his partner La
Generala, is a huge success. H e has a pulqueria and deals
in the distribution of marijuana on the side. This type of
operation leads Dionisio into a world of vice and crime, and
finally tragedy strik e s. Marfa Cristina is murdered at a
party attended by notorious members of the underworld, and
Sebastian, the oldest brother, falls i l l with tuberculosis
and soon d ies.
281
Conchita, w ho to this point has been the silently suf
fering and obedient wife, now takes things into her ow n
hands. She feels that she must leave the capital or her two
remaining children w ill be taken from her by the evil en
vironment in which they live, so she abandons Dionisio and
takes the children back to Cieneguilla. She and the ch il
dren regain their physical and moral strength in the pro
vincial setting, although they are mistreated by som e of the
townspeople, w ho are suspicious of anybody w ho has lived in
the capital for eight years. But Conchita's attempt to re
build the life of the family, at least what is left of it,
is cut short by the news from Mexico City that Dionisio has
been shot and gravely wounded. She returns to the environ
ment that had made her daughter a prostitute, her son a
gangster, killed them both, and had destroyed her husband.
W hen asked w hy she is returning, she can only reply, "I am
4
fu lfilling m y duty." A nd when she sees her husband in the
hospital, Dionisio "... stretches out his dry, cold hand
and smiles without surprise, without emotion, without ex
pression: —I had a hunch you would be back . . ." (p.
4
Mariano Azuela, La luciernaga (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe,
S.A., 1932), p. 203.
282
206) .
Although they com e through clearly as individuals, the
three main characters of The Firefly represent important
types within the analytical framework being used here.
Jose Maria, the provincial aristocrat, is the continu
ation of the same social type that has appeared in so m any
of Azuela's works; but in this novel, Azuela digs into the
psychological aspects of the life of this type to a greater
depth than ever before. A nd what he presents is not a
flattering picture. Jose Maria has led a stultifying, arid
life . H e has actually m ade financial gains during the Revo
lution by being more astute than the new officials w ho took
over the town. But he has sold off a ll the family lands in
order to acquire monetary wealth, and his whole existence
comes to center around the hoarding of this wealth. H e
receives moral support for his avarice from the clergy,
because the church is the beneficiary of a percentage of
Jose's wealth. Financial cheating is justified when the
victims are revolutionaries, "enemies of G od and of the
church, executioners of priests" (pp. 80-81).
Jose Maria, the provincial e lite , and the clergy are
totally alienated from the various revolutionary regimes,
and Azuela portrays their reactions to the Calles regime as
283
one of fanaticism. W hen Jose Maria cheats someone w hom the
townspeople have judged as a supporter of the Revolution,
the priest offers this solace for any feelings of guilt:
"D on Jose Maria, what you did to him wasn't even a venial
sin. . . . You only have been an instrument for crushing the
arrogance of Satan!" (p. 81).
In this way Azuela depicts the alienation of the tra
ditional, provincial elite from a national movement that
they see as a threat to their w ay of l i f e . The result is
fanatical behavior, characterized by blind hatred of any
thing or anybody from outside their community. This is
illustrated by the return of Conchita and her two children.
After eight years away from the town, they are regarded with
h o stility . Such feelings are promoted by the "different"
customs, manner of speech, and w ay of dressing of the ch il
dren w ho had grown up in the capital.
While Azuela presents the traditional life of the
province in a negative w ay through his characterization of
Jose Maria, his attack against the modern life of the capi
ta l is even more devastating. Dionisio is Azuela's con
tinuation of the provincial type w ho emigrates to the urban
center as a result of the Revolution. Dionisio arrives with
a code of behavior characteristic of the traditional
284
culture; at the same time, he has adopted, by demonstration
effect, modern economic values characterized by materialism
and the profit motive. But he has entered an amalgamated
environment, characterized by particularism, alliances, ego
ism, and recipiency. H e is easy prey for the individuals
w ho have mastered the amalgamated culture. Defeated, Dio
nisio sinks into apathy and alcoholism, and his total a li
enation eventually leads to an attempt at suicide.
W hen Dionisio gets another chance, he is now able to
function as an amalgamated individual. H e makes alliances,
joins elects, becomes economically egoistic, and the result
is economic success. But Dionisio, in becoming successful,
has alienated himself from his family. H e again uses alco
hol to mask his feelings of normlessness; and in the end he
is destroyed as a human being.
Azuela uses the story of Dionisio's demise to attack
the corruption of the Calles regime. Dionisio is successful
only after he learns how to bribe the staggering number of
government officials and agencies that regulate commerce in
the revolutionary capital. The Calles officials are char
acterized as "snakes" (ofidios) , and their malevolence and
corruption surpass those of the underworld elements with
w h o m Dionisio is associating. With such m en in p olitical
285
power, only the most opportunistic, the most "amalgamated"
individuals can survive.
Conchita is one of Azuela's more interesting charac
ters . In the firs t three parts of the novel, Conchita is
seen only in the background, and she is not a factor in
determining the destiny of the family. She is considered
to be dull by the more aggressive w om en of the city, and in
general she behaves like a silent, obedient, and subservient
Mexican wife. In the last part of the novel, however, Con
chita emerges as the strong individual while those around
her sink into the mire of corruption, vice, and fanaticism.
The slow, agonizing death of Sebastian from tuberculo
sis seems to be the event that triggers the emergence of
Conchita's free w ill and determination. With her son in the
last stages of the disease, Conchita pleads with Dionisio to
take them from the environment that has already claimed the
life of one of her children. Dionisio's remedy is materi
a listic and scien tific. H e scoffs at the suggestion that
Sebastian can be cured by returning to the clean air of the
province. A s a member of urban society, Dionisio believes
that modern science will cure his boy. H e feels that he has
complied with his obligation by providing the m oney for the
best doctor in Mexico City, a specialist in the treatment of
286
tuberculosis. The struggle over how to treat Sebastian's
illness represents, in a broader sense, the societal clash
between tradition and modernity. Concha sees the salvation
of her boy through good food, the provincial life , and
prayers to God. Dionisio, now a business success, believes
that science can solve anything. H e te lls his wife:
Since the key to wealth is in the hands of Science,
m y dear, G od has closed his bank. With prayers, you
already know where w e ended up. With Science, you have
a ll the m oney you ask m e for. (p. 139)
O f course Conchita disagrees with her husband's
thoughts involving Sebastian and with the new values he is
espousing. She is horrified by the modern doctrines and
te lls her husband, " W e don't need money; but m y children
want a father and I a husband" (p. 146).
W hen Sebastian dies, it is a defeat for science and
modernity. Azuela makes the defeat total by having the
specialist doctor, w ho represents Dionisio's sm ug faith in
modernity, die of tuberculosis himself. This is a crushing
blow for Dionisio. T o him the proof of the greatness of
science was the fact that the doctor charged hundreds of
5
pesos, while the curandero charged only two. For the new
5
A native "curer," w ho uses herbs and other natural
products in ministering to the medicinal needs of the
287
Dionisio, worth is measured only in money. A nd when he
learns that the doctor has died, he would have been "...
less surprised if G od had died. A catastrophe for Science"
(p. 160) .
After the death of Sebastian, the desperate Conchita
asserts herself. She flees from the capital with the two
surviving children and resolutely establishes herself back
in Cieneguilla. Here she finds herself integrated again
with the land and with nature. She refuses to join the
fanatical Catholics of the town in their blind hatred of
anything they do not understand; and she finds contentment
in a religion based on love, not hate, and in the care of
her two children.
W hen it is necessary for her to return to Mexico City,
Conchita seems to have gained enough strength to survive
that environment. She is alienated from the city, but she
is thankful for the abyss that separates her from the oth
ers . She is the strong opposite the weak, the healthy
am ong the moribund. She is the firefly , lighting up the
darkness wherever she goes . At the same time, her light
makes the darkness of modern Mexico seem even more sinister
more traditional segment of Mexican society.
2 88
and ominous.
Conchita is a continuation of the protagonist in The
Trials of a Decent Family, Procopio. These are the only two
of Azuela's people w ho survive the emigration to an urban
area as whole human beings. In both cases, their survival
can be attributed to the comfort and guidance of religious
convictions and to strength and satisfaction derived from
the love of family. These are traditional values. In the
mid-192 0s, Azuela is taking a conservative position in
relation to Mexico's future. His country is urbanizing and
modernizing, but Mexicans must bring at least som e of their
traditional values with them to the city in order to be
whole human beings.
Azuela's view of the Mexico of Calles is a pessimistic
one. The amalgamated bourgeoisie are in control, precisely
because they are amalgamated: that is, they have shed the
social context of values and are thus morally free to pursue
their ow n interests. Dionisio w as not successful as an
amalgamated bourgeois because he could not shed these social
standards completely. W hen he w as finally able to behave
according to amalgamated values, his feelings of guilt
plagued him to the point that he became totally dependent on
alcohol to escape his conscience. Concha overcame this
289
environment, but only by alienating herself from i t . In
addition, she was alienated from the provincial environment
because she could not share their fanatic hatred of a ll
things urban. Azuela has her finding solace and contentment
through worship and love of family, but this represents a
withdrawal from society. It is a rational, conscious with
drawal, which is a more satisfactory adjustment than Dio
nisio 's irrational retreat; but it suggests a society con
trolled by amalgamated bourgeois w ho are socially normless
and populated by groups w ho are alienated from their na
tional leadership to the extent that they become fanatical
or withdraw rationally or irrationally from their environ
ment .
The N ew Leadership
B y the year 1930, Mariano Azuela had been "discovered"
in his ow n country and was beginning to be noticed abroad
also. The Underdogs had been published in English in 1929,
and one year later it was published in French. In the pro
logue to that French edition, the c ritic Valery Larbaud had
this to say about Azuela:
H e never judges the acts of his characters, he never
te lls us what he wants the reader to think, either about
the person or his acts. All his efforts are directed
toward letting us see them as they appear in front of
290
him, and in this eagerness to capture the truth in life
lies his moral nature as an a rtis t, . .
Virtually a ll critics agree with the Frenchman's analy
sis of Azuela's works as of the time those lines were w rit
ten. Unhappily, Azuela's works published after 1930 do not
stand up to that evaluation. After the publication of The
Firefly, Azuela wrote ten more novels. O f this production,
two or three novels can be judged as fair and of mild in
terest for today's reader; the rest are of l it tl e or no
interest today, at least to the general reader. Even the
best of this group of novels cannot be included am ong Azu
ela's five or six best works.
The same characteristics that diminish the a rtistic
value of Azuela's post-1930 novels serve to m ake them of
less value to the purposes of this study as well. Azuela
ceases being the objective, intuitive, and a rtistic creator
of characters through which he interpreted the momentous
changes taking place around him; he becomes, instead, a
stern c ritic of the new social order.
In these novels of social protest, Azuela is turning
back into the past, not only in the nature of his prose but
P r o lo g u e t o Ceux d ' e n b a s ( P a r i s , 1 9 3 0 ) , q u o te d in
L e a l , p . 1 0 6 .
291
in his political and social thought as well. In m any ways,
these novels resemble the very firs t Mexican novel, Fernan
dez de Lizardi's El periquillo sarniento. Azuela, like this
predecessor, seems to be using the novel as a vehicle for
his social and political ideas. Both m en used the novel to
bring before the public their reformist notions about social
conditions and p olitical evils afflicting their country. In
both cases, the end results were novels of limited a rtistic
value. Moralization is the dominant characteristic, and
this produces prose that resembles political pamphleteering
as m uch as a true novel.
The major defect in Azuela's protest writing, and the
defect that is inherent in a ll "novels" that are special
pleas for the author's cause, is inadequate characteriza
tion. Characterization w as discussed earlier as being the
variable that differentiates the novel from other types of
prose writing, and the most important element in using the
novel as a source for the study of p olitical alienation.
W e 11-developed characters are almost totally absent from
the protest novels; thus their usefulness to this study is
severely limited. Azuela presents a panorama of society,
but there is a scarcity of in-depth interactions between
individuals and society; and to deal with values,
2 92
expectations, and feelings, panoramas are not adequate. A s
one c ritic put it, Azuela's characters in the protest novels
are like drawings in p o litical cartoons. M any pages of
these novels sound like newspaper editorials. Cartoons and
editorials tend to show the individual feelings of their
creators, and they m ay describe feelings held by various
social groups; but these vehicles can do little to explain
feelings in terms of the values and norms of individuals w ho
exist in a specific environment.
The preceding comments m ay sound excessively negative
with regard to Azuela's protest novels. The main point has
been that the novels of this period do not match his earlier
works a rtistic a lly , and in the area that is most c ritic a l
for this study, characterization. In a ll of the novels,
however, one can clearly see the professional sk ill and the
creative genius of a great novelist. A nd it should be noted
that if som e pages might more appropriately belong in a
newspaper, they would m ake very good editorials indeed.
The distinct groupings into which Azuela's novels have
been placed in this study are universally accepted. Early
novels, novels of the Revolution, and experimental novels
are easily identifiable as categories, and the same is true
of the protest novels. There are sharp differences between
293
Azuela's last experimental novel and the firs t of the pro
test works. The author abandons the experimental methods,
after using them so successfully in The Firefly, in favor of
a return to the straightforward manner of earlier periods.
M ore importantly, Azuela negates the c ritic Larbaud's praise
in his later works. H e begins to judge the acts of his
characters, and it is evident what he wants the reader to
think. His criticism becomes direct and open, not part of
a created reality .
W h y did Azuela abandon his experimental novels in favor
of the prose of protest? Contributing factors can be or
ganized into two categories: environmental and individual
circumstances. The novels of protest were written during
the period 192 7 through the late 1940s, and it seems evident
that the p olitical circumstances of the nation during those
years helped to promote Azuela's desire to use his novels as
vehicles for protest. The experimental novels coincided
with the regime of Obregon. But after 1924, Plutarco Elias
Calles became president, and he kept either actual or
behind-the-scenes power for the next ten years. Calles con
tinued to implement som e of the goals of the Revolution:
agrarian reform and labor benefits, for example. While
there is no question that the masses, especially the urban
294
p ro letariat, improved their economic and social positions
during this period, it is also certain that the political
ideals of the Revolution were being well trampled in the
process. Calles1 ruthless use of power as president and as
maker of presidents had to displease those interested in the
establishment of political democracy. In addition, the
corruption, favoritism, and hypocrisy of the Calles years
stand out glaringly even am ong regimes noted for such char
acteristics . It is easy to understand how Mariano Azuela,
a middle-class p o litical and social idealist, could be over
com e by bitterness and cynicism in such an environment.
Azuela's personal circumstances contributed to his
moralistic, reforming zeal also. B y the time Plutarco
Calles took power, Azuela had been living in Mexico City for
nearly a decade. It is hard to imagine any capital city,
anywhere at any time, experiencing more dramatic and more
profound changes than those witnessed by Azuela during this
period. Brushwood has captured the feeling that must have
prevailed in the nation's capital with this eloquent sta te
ment :
Mexico City in 1925 was change set on change, confusion
within confusion, the heart of a nation discovering i t
self in a larger world that w as bursting its cocoon.
The movement of the Revolution was in the city. Its
streetcars, rolling over the same tracks, no longer
2 95
carried three-dimensional inertia to its predestination.
They rushed now, imbued with life , to mystery, hope,
despair, on an endless trip of discovery. The city w as
alive, and there was meaning in every human movement, in
every flicker of a lig ht. The definition of destiny,
delayed by the exuberance of the moment, awaited its
statement. (p. 190)
Azuela, always the insightful and sensitive observer,
must have found this dynamic period as overwhelming as he
did his participation in the military stage of the Revolu
tion. It should be remembered that Azuela w as born and
spent his formative years in a provincial town of Porfirian
Mexico. A s a middle-class intellectual of that period, his
support of the Revolution was based on his advocacy of
ideals that were democratic, cap italistic, mildly nation
a listic , and humane* and he was consistently intolerant of
injustice, corruption, and hypocrisy. It is easy to under
stand Azuela's b itte r disillusionment. The Revolution had
brought about economic and social changes that benefited the
urban proletariat; but these gains had been accomplished at
the expense of, rather than by means of, the p olitical
ideals that were Azuela's main revolutionary concern.
Azuela was a middle-class, migrant doctor w ho worked
am ong the urban masses during this whole period. H e was
connected by bonds of sympathy to the slum dwellers of El
Tepito, where he ministered to the medical needs of the
296
poor; but he was never connected by bonds of consciousness
to the urban masses. H e w as an outsider whose sympathy for
the masses was tempered by his belief that these same m en
were emerging to trample on his democratic ideals. A s a
result, Azuela's attitude toward the masses in his novels of
protest becomes increasingly paternal.
The "discovery" of Azuela by critics in the mid-1920s
contributed to the change of direction in his novels also.
H e no longer had to prove himself, and he abandoned his
experimental style in order to write novels that would
appeal to a broader base of the Mexican population. Azuela
has stated in his ow n words that his later novels were
motivated by the urge to write for the average reader, and
not the c r itic s :
. . . I have always recognized myself as being a popular
novelist w ho writes for the general public and not for
m en of le tte rs. W hat I am most interested in when I
write a book is that i t be read by the largest possible
number of readers. (Obras completas, III, 1118)
The ten novels Azuela wrote after The Firefly add noth
ing to his stature as a novelist. It should be remembered,
however, that as Azuela entered what proved to be a less
a rtistic period of production, other Mexican novelists were
just beginning to pay attention to the Revolution. The
297
description of the Revolution did not become the main theme
of the Mexican novel until 1931, at which time Azuela's
peers began writing a wave of novels aimed at interpreting
those monumental events. These novelists of the Revolution
were writing two decades after Azuela had covered the same
ground. A nd Azuela's novels of the Revolution are superior
to a ll others.
Although the "flat" characters created by Azuela in his
novels of protest do not lend themselves to the purposes of
this investigation, it is felt that Azuela's panoramic view
of postrevolutionary Mexican society can be useful. In the
following section, the ten novels of protest will be divided
into two groups. The firs t group consists of the four
novels that were published between the years 1937 and 1940.
These works are unified in that they are a ll c ritic a l a t
tacks upon the new leaders of Mexico; consequently, analysis
w ill focus on alienation am ong the new power holders of
revolutionary Mexico. After 1940, Azuela switched his
attack from the leaders to the people themselves. His last
six novels deal with the way the masses reacted to the new
order, and analysis of this second group of novels will
focus on the interactions of different social groups with
the p olitical system.
In the late 192 0s political corruption, opportunism,
and violence reached a peak. Obregon and Calles had suc
ceeded in beginning the institutionalization of som e of the
revolutionary goals. Labor was organized into powerful
unions; mechanisms were created to handle the distribution
of land; and previously voiceless sectors of society were
now participating in the political process in an organized
manner. The formation of these new institutions meant a
revolutionary change in Mexican society, and the behavior of
the new leaders in these formative years certainly violated
the middle-class, democratic ethic of m en like Mariano
Azuela. In the four novels that will be discussed in this
section, Azuela is b itterly c ritic a l of these new leaders.
H e finds them barbaric in their violence, greedy in their
use of p olitical offices to enrich themselves, incompetent
in the performance of their administrative duties, and hypo
c ritic a l in their constant mouthing of revolutionary slogans
that they did not practice.
The sectors of society that dominated Mexico before the
Revolution quite naturally suffered the greatest losses and
were subjected to mistreatment at the hands of the new
leaders. For example, Calles provoked an attack upon the
Church that led to fanaticism and brutality on both sides,
299
with the Church eventually losing m any of her prerevolu
tionary privileges. In his novels of protest, Azuela will
aim his criticism at the revolutionary leaders, and his
sympathy now goes to the traditional groups which he had
attacked in his earlier works. This is of course a complete
switch of sides, but i t is not inconsistent. Azuela is con
sistently opposed to oppression and injustice, and this
leads him to support hacendados over agrarian reformers,
businessmen over laborers, and priests over revolutionary
politicians. This support of traditional groups and oppo
sition to revolutionary groups can be seen through the
characterizations in his protest novels.
In 192 7, Azuela and m any other Mexicans were horrified
by a series of cold-blooded p olitical assassinations per
petrated by the government of Calles. In his ow n words,
Azuela explains how these events provoked the writing of
his firs t novel of protest:
. . . I was forced to suspend m y inclination [to be
objective] . It was the series of cold-blooded assas
sinations that culminated with the murders of Fr. Pro,
General Serrano, and a multitude of Catholics and
po litical dissidents from the Calles regime. (Obras
completas, III, 1101)
Azuela goes on to explain how he began writing the
firs t of his protest works, Comrade Pantoja (El camarada
300
Pantoja), almost immediately after these events. This novel
was not published until 1937, for the obvious reason that it
w as an open attack on the Calles regime; and even when it
was published, it w as viewed by m any as a one-sided exag
geration of a reactionary.
In Comrade Pantoja. Azuela focuses his attack on or
ganized labor and on the use of violence to gain political
power. Pantoja is introduced by Azuela as 1 1 . . . a laborer
in La Consolidada, a connoisseur of the worker question, a
mem ber of C R O M [Confederacion Regional de Obreros Mexicanosl
7
and a fervent devotee of the millionaire leaders . " H e has
a wife, La Chata, and no children. O ne day, quite by acci
dent, La Chata aids a m an w ho is fleeing from som e enemies
by hiding him in her house . The m an turns out to be an
important m em ber of the Calles regime. A s a reward, Pantoja
is given a position with the local police. His superiors
see that Pantoja has possibilities to m ove up to a position
of more importance. His main qualification is his complete,
blind submission to his superiors. H e is given a tr ia l
assignment, which consists of murdering a political
7
M ariano A z u e la , E l camarada P a n to ja (M exico C i t y :
E d i c i o n e s B o t a s , 1 9 3 7 ) , p . 9 .
301
dissident; and when he perforins the task flawlessly, his
rise through the ranks is assured. H e becomes a captain, a
lieutenant colonel, and then a representative in the Na
tional Congress. His career culminates with his appointment
to the governorship of the state of Zacatecas.
In 1929, Azuela began writing a novel in which he fo
cused his attack on the revolutionary regime on the rural
setting. H e gave this novel, which w as not published until
1938, a title that made it sound like an anthropological
study: San Gabriel de Valdivias: A Native Community (San
8
Gabriel de Valdivias: comunidad indigena) . The hero of
the story is a young peasant, Ciriaco Campos. Ciriaco re
turns from an extended tour of duty in the military to his
native community on the Hacienda San Gabriel. During his
absence, agrarian reform, one of the goals of the Revolu
tion, has been implemented. The old hacendado family has
been stripped of its power and most of its land, and they
have been replaced by a group of agrarian leaders affiliated
with the revolutionary political party, the PN R . The leader
of this group of "fuerenos" (outsiders), as they are called
by the local peasants, is a totally corrupt and violent m an
Q
Santiago de Chile: Ercilla, 1938.
3 02
named Saturnino Quintana.
Saturnino and his armed henchmen use their p olitical
power to gain control of the best land. A t the same time,
they bring the modern world to this previously isolated
community. Saturnino is responsible for the construction
of a dam and a road. The dam will result in the moderniza
tion of the outmoded methods of agricultural production, and
the road links the community to a market center on the main
highway. The implication is clear: San Gabriel is entering
the modern world and the traditional way of life is doomed.
Ciriaco, with his greater experience of the world, is
aware that the peasants have not benefited from the "revo
lutionary" changes. H e understands that they have merely
replaced one cacique with another. But i t is a personal
quarrel with Saturnino that eventually leads to an armed
struggle between the peasants and the fuerenos. The peas
ants suffer heavy losses. Ciriaco has to take refuge in
the mountains, but his sweetheart is gunned dow n by the
vengeful gunmen of Saturnino. Finally, the federal govern
ment steps in to restore order. Saturnino is killed and the
power of the fuerenos is dispersed. Even though the native
community has been almost totally destroyed and its popula
tion decimated by the struggle, the defeat of the opportun-
303
istic agrarian leaders might be construed as a victory. But
Azuela takes away any note of optimism with his conclusion.
Colonel Gonzalo Perez, the commander of the federal army
that liberated the community from the agraristas. now as
sumes power. H e appoints himself representative of the
peasant community in the p olitical apparatus, and he gives
every indication of being an even more exploitative cacique
than his predecessor.
In 1939, Azuela published what is perhaps his poorest
9
novel, Regina Landa. In this work Azuela shows no sign of
easing his criticism of the revolutionary regime, its leader
and its supporters. The story takes place during the presi
dency of Lazaro Cardenas (1934-1940), w ho is generally
credited by historians with establishing a m uch less corrupt
and inefficient regime than that of Calles. Cardenas im
proved the changes for p olitical representation of a ll
social groups, was somewhat conciliatory toward the Church,
checked the power of the m ilitary, curtailed graft and
opportunism in government administration, and paved the way
for organized labor to hold a strong position in p o litical
and economic matters. These are considered positive
9
M exico C i t y : E d ic i o n e s B o t a s , 1 9 3 9 .
304
accomplishments by most Mexicans, and the general view of
Cardenas today is that of the president w ho did most to
implement the goals of the revolutionary program.
But Azuela becomes even more entrenched in his anti-
revolutionary position. H e does shift his attack somewhat:
in Regina Landa there is less emphasis on the vice, corrup
tion, and physical brutality than in the novels of the
Calles regime, and Azuela begins to attack the government
bureaucracy. The heroine of the story, Regina, is the
daughter of a general w ho had fought faithfully on the side
of the Revolution since the maderista revolt. W hen her
father dies, Regina has to go to work as a clerk in a gov
ernment agency. There she is subjected to the opportunism
and incompetence of political bureaucrats. Disgusted by
what she sees, she quits and manages to sta rt a small bak
ery. Her feeling is that only through individual ownership
and working for oneself can one be truly free. In contrast
to Regina is a Marxist labor leader named Villegas. Ville
gas, w ho before the Revolution was a provincial cacique,
bombards everyone with a steady stream of anticapitalist
slogans; and, while he influences m any w ho listen to him,
Regina never succumbs. She is a successful entrepreneur,
and this remains the key to her happiness and freedom.
305
In his next novel, The Advance (Avanzada). published
in 1940, Azuela returns to a rural setting and to an attack
on the agraristas, the leaders of the government-sponsored
agrarian reform programs. The protagonist is the son of a
wealthy hacendado named Adolfo. Against the wishes of his
"traditional" father, Adolfo, w ho has been educated in
Canada and the United States, institutes a series of sc i
entific innovations on the lands that his family s t i l l owns.
This modernized farming proves to be successful, and Adol
fo's land outproduces everything else in the region. The
result is that this final parcel of the hacienda is now
expropriated by the corrupt agraristas. The peasants w ho
take over the land are not able to take advantage of Adol
fo's technological innovations, and production falls drama
tic a lly . Adolfo's parents die, and he, now landless, de
cides to migrate to Veracruz.
This migration creates a new situation. Adolfo takes a
job in a sugar m ill, and here he comes into contact with the
corrupt and powerful labor bosses . Adolfo is finally driven
to rebel against a labor chief, w ho is a Communist and an
exploiter of the mill workers. The labor leader makes
■^Mexico C i t y : E d i c i o n e s B o t a s , 1 9 4 0 .
306
demagogic appeals to his followers, preaching hatred toward
the ex-hacendado. Adolfo, on the other hand, fights for
justice and preaches Christian love and faith. The novel
ends with Adolfo and his friend being murdered by union
gunmen. But Azuela does add an optimistic note to the end
ing: as Adolfo dies, his son is born. A nd the author hints
that these evil forces, agraristas and labor leaders alike,
can be conquered by the establishment of a Christian cul
ture .
In the four novels discussed above, Azuela has pre
sented a panoramic view of the new order, the m en w ho have
emerged from the Revolution as the new e lite of Mexico.
W hen Azuela's panorama is analyzed according to the aliena
tion framework, som e generalizations can be m ade about the
nature of the new leaders and their interaction with those
they ru le.
Azuela's c ritic a l attack on the revolutionary regime is
the theme that unites a ll four works. Viewed collectively,
the novels serve as a platform for Azuela's views on four
social groups that have risen to positions of dominance as
an aftermath of the Revolution. They are the unionized
urban labor force, the new military leaders, the government-
appointed leaders of the land redistribution programs
307
(agraristas), and the technologically oriented bureaucracy.
B y analyzing the characteristics of these groups ac
cording to the alienation framework, it becomes clear that
they share one central feature: the new leadership, re
gardless of their geographical and sociological background,
are amalgamated bourgeois. They a ll have achieved, as
opposed to having inherited, positions of leadership. They
exhibited a ll of the modern values—activism, individualism,
mobility, associationalism, and materialism—in their climb
from the rank and file to positions of power. A t the same
time, the individual context of these modern values w as not
tempered by a social context, a modern feeling of responsi
b ility toward society. All of the new e lite are political
recipients, that is, they participate in an authoritarian
manner. They have been socialized and recruited through
elects, that is, modern-appearing secondary organizations
that operate according to the "rules" of primary groups.
A nd they are masters at using the political process to sat
isfy their demands successfully, since political structures
are elects and function in an eclectic manner.
Labor union leaders play prominent roles in three of
the four novels, and Comrade Pantoja is the protagonist of
the work that bears his name. In depicting organized labor
308
as a powerful force in postrevolutionary Mexico, Azuela
correctly perceived and portrayed what historians were able
to corroborate late r. Historical investigations of the
192 0s show that industrial workers became an aggressive
political force during the period. Union organizers and
foreign radicals had been active in creating a proletarian
psychology, and Luis Morones, a 300-pound unionist w ho w as
notorious for his ruthlessness, founded C R O M . Morones en
joyed the enthusiastic support of the Obregon administra
tion, and as a result collusion am ong union leaders, employ
ers, and government officials became the norm for settling
labor disputes. Meanwhile, Morones and his friends were
able to indulge their tastes for diamonds and armored Cadil
lacs, and their ostentatious display of wealth became leg
endary .
Azuela chronicles these activities, with emphasis on
the negative, through his protagonist, Comrade Pantoja. A
"connoisseur of the worker question, m em ber of C R O M and
devotee of the millionaire leaders" (p. 9), Pantoja is able
to rise rapidly to a position of considerable power. The
influence of C R O M is his springboard; and his blind sub
mission to orders enables him to achieve a high military
rank and top-level p o litical positions. Azuela points out
309
how unqualified Pantoja is to hold such positions as na
tional representative and state governor. In one of his
most satiric al scenes, for example, Azuela portrays the
house of representatives in action. Representative Pantoja
gives a speech that is inappropriate for such a body, and
the assembled representatives are no more qualified than he
is (p. 215). O f course Azuela is judging Pantoja and the
political process by modern standards, in which case poli
ticians and the political structures are farcical and hypo
c ritic a l indeed. But the men, structures, and functions can
be understood when viewed through the concept of the amal
gamated culture. These are amalgamated men, and the house
of representatives is a elect: i t is modern in superficial
appearance, but as a elect it responds to such traditional
characteristics as clannish favoritism, stratification ,
subject p olitical orientations, and a sacred style of func
tioning . The amalgamation of modern and traditional values
produces the amalgams discussed earlier. Thus mobility is
assigned, alliances are com m on, recipiency is the norm for
p o litical orientation, and the political elects function
eclectically .
Azuela depicts the arrogant misuse of power through
union officials in Regina Landa also. Villegas is an
310
ex-cacique turned Marxist organizer, w ho goes around seduc
ing unsophisticated laborers with his anticapitalist slogans
(Regina Landa. pp. 167ff). Regina, the heroine, remains
true to her capitalist and Christian values, however. A nd
in Avanzada the ruthless union leaders of Veracruz are por
trayed. If anything, these leaders are even more radical
than their counterparts in Comrade Pantoja, and their Marx
is t message of class hatred comes through even more clearly.
Here again Azuela was being sensitive to p olitical changes
that would prove to be of considerable social significance.
During the Cardenas regime (1934-1940), C R O M had been re
constructed as the C T M (Confederation of Mexican Workers),
led by the Communist Vicente Lombardo Toledano. Strongly
back by Cardenas, the C T M proved to be even more powerful,
and more radical, than C R O M . The union leaders in Avanzada.
then, are openly Marxist, and their rhetoric becomes more
hateful and violent.
Military leaders appear in a ll four novels, and they
are uniformly opportunistic, ruthless, and corrupt. Besides
Pantoja, Azuela gives a military figure a prominent role in
San Gabriel. Colonel Gonzalo Perez proves to be the most
opportunistic and ruthless in the struggle for control of
the community.
311
The agraristas are characterized best through the
sinister Saturnino Quintana in San Gabriel. The agraristas
are outsiders, and their broader experience of the world
and contacts with the centers of power give them the advan
tage over local peasant leaders like Ciriaco Campos. The
same situation exists in the firs t part of Avanzada, where
Adolfo loses his land to the agraristas after he m ade it so
productive that it became a lucrative prize.
Azuela's bureaucrats are perfect examples of amalga
mated bourgeois. They generate upward mobility, but they
do so by being totally submissive to their superiors. The
bureaucracy is seen in relation to Pantoja's rise to power.
These are the "flies" described by Azuela years earlier, but
now they are in key positions. Azuela hints at the poten
tia l power that a technological bureaucracy would have in
San Gabriel. A s the farm lands are modernized, a peripheral
technological bureaucracy is beginning to take shape, and it
is evident that the peasants will be easily manipulated by
this group. Regina Landa is herself a part of the bureau
cracy for awhile. Through her, Azuela depicts a corrupt
world in which the only thinking involves how to improve
oneself at the expense of someone else.
In these four novels, Azuela has described a political
312
e lite that is an amalgamated bourgeoisie in its values.
Consequently, p o litical structures reflect amalgamated prin
ciples : they are elects that function eclectically. While
Azuela's main concern in these novels is to describe these
political in-groups, he also has sketched characters that
represent several types of out-groups.
Regina Landa and Adolfo (San Gabriel) are alienated
from organized labor in particular and from the political
e lite , to which union leaders belong, in general. Both in
dividuals display relatively more modern values than those
of the in-groups. Regina was raised by her intellectual,
maderista father, and she has received a good education from
the best schools of the capital. Her alienation from the
p olitical bureaucracy is based on a discrepancy between her
expectation of a democratically oriented political system
and the reality of a recipient-oriented one. Her response
is to withdraw rationally from the culture that surrounds
her. She finds personal satisfaction in becoming a modern
entrepreneur. Her bakery is built on hard work, and it is
successful because she offers a good product at a fair
price. The guiding principle behind her activities is that
". . . only through ownership can one be free" (Regina
Landa, p . 241).
313
Adolfo's alienation from the political e lite is based
on his democratic ideals of justice and equality for a ll
social groups. Although he is a son of a hacendado. he was
educated at universities in the United States and in Canada.
H e cam e back with a knowledge of modern p olitical values as
well as a knowledge of scientific farming methods. The ex
perience of losing his modern farm to the political elite
alienated him from these amalgamated decision-makers. A s a
laborer in the sugar m ill, his democratic orientation a li
enated him from a union that was a elect, not an associa
tion. In response to the situation, he tried to organize
workers for the purpose of articulating their interests in
a modern fashion. This activity led to his murder by the
political e lite .
Through the characterizations of Regina and Adolfo,
Azuela has described and explained alienation in terms of
the discrepancy between relatively modern, amalgamated in
tellectual expectations and an amalgamated bourgeois p o liti
cal reality . There are numerous other examples of alienated
modern individuals (modern, at least, in relation to the
amalgamated in-groups), but none of these characters are
developed by the author. Azuela describes alienation in
terms of traditional expectations in conflict with the
314
amalgamated p olitical reality also. The peasant leader
Ciriaco Cam pos of San Gabriel and the parents of Adolfo are
the best examples. All of these traditional individuals are
minor personages and consequently are not developed as char
acters. A s types, they represent the dispossessed hacendado
and the peasant w ho rebels against a malevolent authority.
In this group of novels, out-groups are seen only as
the backdrop for Azuela's attack on the power holders; and
alienated individuals are those w ho tend toward either the
traditional or the modern pole of the cultural continuum.
In the remaining novels of his literary production, Azuela
w ill focus more directly on those out-groups, and in so
doing he will describe alienation within the amalgamated
culture its e lf.
The Urban Underdogs
Between 1941 and the year of his death, 1952, Azuela
published four more novels; and in addition, his last two
novels were published posthumously in 1955 and 1956. These
final works are grouped together because there is a con
tinuity of theme and subject matter that unites them.
Azuela continues to describe the new social groups of post
revolutionary Mexico; but his last six novels differ from
315
his earlier protest novels in that he focuses now on the
out-groups rather than on the politically powerful. Sur
prisingly, Azuela is no less harsh on these new urban
"underdogs" than he was on the new e lite . The author w ho
portrayed the oppressed and poor with sympathy in his early
novels is now obviously displeased and disappointed with
them in the urban, postrevolutionary setting. Azuela is
c ritic a l of the new values and priorities of the out-groups.
H e feels that the humble underdogs, upon being placed in the
urban setting, want too m uch too fast. They have been se
duced by the bright lights and by the material things they
would hardly have dreamed of obtaining before the Revolu
tion .
In his final novels, Azuela is on a crusade. H e wants
these new groups to turn back from this Babel and to reject
the false values of a world full of beauty parlors, movies,
chewing gum , and automobiles. H e is pleading for a cause
even more than he w as in his firs t group of protest novels,
and again the consequence of such pleading is inadequate
characterization.
The firs t novel of this group, The N ew Middle-Class
316
(Nueva burguesia), ^ was published in 1941. The title is
unusual, for Azuela almost always chooses a title that re
fers to the protagonist of the work. Using the title of a
social group accurately reflects the nature of this novel,
however. M any characters appear in the work, but they are
a ll types. Thus, in relation to this study, the main value
of this work, as well as of the novels to follow, lies in
the panoramic description of these new social groups.
The action in N ew Middle-Class takes place in 1939. In
the opening section, Azuela portrays the electoral battle of
that year for the Mexican presidency. B y the end of his
presidency, Cardenas had firmly institutionalized the p o lit
ical power of the new social groups. H e had formed, or at
least reformed, the national p olitical party under the title
Party of the Mexican Revolution (Partido de la Revolucion
Mexicana). K now n as P R M , this successor to C alles' P N R was
composed of an industrial labor sector, which in turn w as
organized internally through the C T M ; an agrarian sector,
which entailed the Cardenas-created peasant union, the C N C
(Confederacion Nacional de Campesinos); a popular sector,
which served the interests of small businessmen, profes-
■^Buenos Aires: Club del Libro A.L.A., 1941.
317
sionals, students, and public employees; and a military
sector, which obviously represented the armed forces.
This sectorial system enabled the vast majority of
Mexicans to participate successfully in the input functions
of the p o litical process. N o w the "grass roots" could
articulate their interests a ll the w ay to the national level
through the various organizations within their sector. With
Cardenas supporting, and in turn receiving the support, of
such a broad-based coalition, he was able to m ake consid
erable progress toward the overriding revolutionary goal of
correcting the "maldistributions" of prerevolutionary Mexi
can society: maldistribution of p o litical power, of oppor
tunities for material consumption, and of access to land.
This progress was achieved through a national program that
can be briefly summarized as follows: an accelerated and
expanded land-distribution program that favored the ej ido.
a communal-type operation in which a whole village would be
given possession of an expropriated hacienda; the nationali
zation of key industries and considerable government in ter
vention into the traditionally private commercial sector;
and the enforcement of anticlerical provisions of the Con
stitution , including the exclusion of the Church from in
volvement in the government-sponsored national education
318
program.
During his six-year presidency, Cardenas had organized
a p olitical machine that w as successful in bringing an un
precedented period of political stab ility and economic
progress to Mexico. The efficient system that Cardenas
organized in the 1930s is the monolithic structure that,
with a few minor alterations, s t i l l guides Mexico today.
W hen Cardenas picked his successor in 1939, a colorless
cabinet m em ber named Manuel Avila Camacho, the result of the
1940 elections was a foregone conclusion. With a ll the
resources of the P R M at his disposal, Avila Cam acho w as the
"official" candidate of the government.
Avila Camacho and the P R M did have electoral opposi
tion, however. Juan Andreu Almazan, a wealthy m an w ho w as
as conservative as anyone dared to be in this setting, waged
a vigorous campaign against the government candidate. Al
mazan rallied nearly everyone w ho resented the P R M or the
Cardenas administration, the new out-groups of revolutionary
Mexico. These out-groups would obviously include m any of
the more traditional elements of Mexican society; but, sur
prisingly, Mariano Azuela must be included as well.
In his novel N ew Middle-Class. Azuela makes it clear
that he sympathizes with Almazan in the electoral campaign.
319
H e criticized the electoral process itse lf, especially the
fact that the P R M its e lf counted the votes. Azuela's por
trayal of electoral fraud and general p olitical malpractice
in the 1940 elections is certainly not based on fantasy.
The twenty-to-one margin for Avila Camacho announced by the
government insulted the nation's intelligence and cam e very
close to causing an armed rebellion by Almazan and his fol
lowers .
The setting in the novel is a tenement house (casa de
vecindad) in a working-class barrio of Mexico City, Nono-
alco. In the residents of the tenement Azuela presents a
description of the new urban social group from which m any of
the new elite have emerged. But in this novel Azuela is
describing the "losers," the amalgamated individuals w ho for
various reasons have not been able to satisfy their eco
nomic, social, and p olitical expectations. There is an
endless procession of "types" w ho pass through the novel,
but none is developed beyond being a type. The best-
sketched types are Rosita, the unfaithful wife; Chabelon,
the bus driver; the Escamilla sisters, servants turned sec
retaries; Bartolo, the poor but happy shoemaker; and the old
maid Emmita, continuously in an unsuccessful search for a
husband.
320
The over-all impression conveyed by Azuela is that of
a social class that has become a slave to the desire for
material wants. His characters are willing to sacrifice
everything, including their ow n personalities, in their
search for the g litte r of the modern world. The only ex
ception to this pattern is Bartolo, a long-time resident of
the tenement w ho is satisfied with his role as a shoemaker.
Amidst a sea of frustrated ambitions, Bartolo stands out,
contented with repairing shoes as he had always done.
The presidency of Avila Camacho has been described
accurately as a turn to the right and as a "cooling" of the
Revolution. While not reactionary, it w as evident from the
beginning that the Avila Camacho regime would be one of
consolidation and compromise. The president's famous public
profession of faith ("Soy creyente" — "I am a believer") sug
gested the end of excessive anticlericalism . Labor leaders
learned to their chagrin that the government no longer would
automatically take their side in disputes with management.
Land reform slowed down, and the land that w as distributed
tended to go to individual peasants rather than to ej ida-
ta rio s. The private business sector enjoyed less government
intervention and the economy of the nation prospered, espe
cially during World W ar II.
321
Azuela's next novel reflects the conciliatory political
m ood of the Avila Camacho years. In La marchanta (The Shop-
12
keeper) , published in 1944, there is a noticeable absence
of attacks on the government. Instead Azuela fills his
latest novel with characters w ho are victims of their o w n
weaknesses more than of p olitical oppression and corruption.
Each chapter has a different main character, but the epi
sodes are united by the protagonist, Fernanda. She is
called La Marchanta, which is a generic title that has
applied to Fernanda's female ancestors for as long as she
knows. These vendors have sold refreshments out of the same
street s ta ll for generations. Fernanda breaks out of that
pattern, however, by marrying a m an with the derogatory
nickname of Juan Cocoliso. The couple opens a small grocery
store, and through hard work they are improving their eco
nomic circumstances slowly. Their lives take a dramatic
turn when Juan discovers a fortune hidden between the walls
of the old store. The change in Juan Cocoliso, w ho now in
sists upon being called by his real name, Santiago, is a
negative one. H e stops working and takes up with a night
club singer. H e loses a ll morality, becoming increasingly
12
M e x ic o C i t y : S e c r e t a r i a d e E d u c a c io n P u b l i c a , 1 9 4 4 .
322
adulterous and alcoholic and leaving Fernanda to operate the
store alone. Santiago eventually ends up as a hopeless
alcoholic w ho commits suicide in a state of despair. Fer
nanda, meanwhile, has not been changed by the sudden acqui
sition of wealth. U pon her husband's death, she sells the
store and returns to her "ancestral" refreshment stand. A s
the novel ends, Fernanda, again La Marchanta, is happily
raising her daughter, w ho will run the s ta ll after she dies.
Azuela makes another female the protagonist of his next
13
novel, The Dominated W o m an (La mujer domada), published in
1946. This female, unlike Fernanda, has great ambitions;
she is Serafina, the daughter of a humble hacienda peon from
the "province" of Morelia. The father is granted a plot of
land as the result of the Revolution, but he proves to be
too lazy to work i t . Abandoning his land, he migrates to
the city of Morelia, where he becomes a small entrepreneur.
H e has som e success, but he also develops an inferiority
complex. In an urban world, he cannot read or write. H e
compensates for his feelings of inadequacy by instillin g in
his daughter the drive to excel at school. Serafina, then,
goes through elementary and preparatory education as the
13
M e x ic o C i t y : E l C o l e g i o d e M e x ic o , 1 9 4 6 .
323
best student in a ll of her classes. This compelling urge to
be firs t drives her to try for a degree at the National
University in Mexico City. Here the more formidable compe
titio n and her provincial naivete contribute to a series of
failures and indignities. After three years of struggling,
Serafina returns to Morelia for a vacation. U pon her return
after such a long absence, she appreciates for the firs t
time an environment that she had previously taken for
granted:
She delights in breathing the pure air; she cannot hear
enough, smell enough. N o w she feels she is am ong her
own, in the place she should never have abandoned. In
the Capital she never had a single m om ent of similar
satisfaction. She always felt like a stranger, like
an intruder. (p. 175)
Over the strong protests of her father, Serafina de
cides to stay in Morelia. She has found herself by return
ing to the place where she belongs.
14
Lost Paths (Sendas perdidas) is the last novel pub
lished during Azuela's lifetim e. Published in 1949, it w as
actually written as a movie script. The plot deals with a
seductive w om en w ho ruins the life of the m an w ho succumbs
to her charms. The temptress is a nightclub singer named
14
M e x ic o C i t y : E d i c i o n e s B o t a s , 1 9 4 9 .
324
Lucero, and Gregorio is the honest, hard-working m an w ho
loses everything as his love leads him dow n the path of
destruction. It is a well-traveled path, both in literature
and in reality, and the novel adds nothing to Azuela's a rt.
There is som e evidence that indicates the novel was written,
at least in part, in the early 1900s. Azuela is dealing
with events that occurred over fifty years ago. If the
novel was written in the 1940s, it would be the only time
that Azuela used events of the distant past as the basis for
a novel. In any event, the novel is close to being a soap
opera, and it contributes nothing to this study.
15
The Curse (La maidicion), published in 1955, seems to
have been written between 1949 and Azuela's death in 1952.
In this work Azuela repeats one of his favorite themes : the
destruction of provincial migrants within the environment of
Mexico City.
The Montelongo family, having been divested of its
lands by the Revolution, decides to migrate to the capital.
O n the way, they stop to say goodbye to an uncle in Celaya.
Uncle Carlos urges them not to go to the city. If they stay
in the province, they will find contentment through the
15
M e x ic o C i t y : Fondo d e C u lt u r a E c o n o m ic a , 1 9 5 5 .
325
". . . humble happiness with which thousands of human beings
are satisfied: a modest home, an unexhausting job, and
peace at heart" (Obras completas, II, 592-593). O n the
other hand, if they go to Mexico City, Uncle Carlos predicts
that "... the happiness and tranquility you have le ft in
your souls will be lost there" (p. 468).
Emilia, the mother, considers the uncle's words to be a
prophetic curse. Rodulfo, the son fits right into his new
ambience. H e proves to be cunningly opportunistic and soon
becomes rich through underworld a c tiv itie s . W hen he suffers
reversals, Rodulfo resorts to making his siste r (whose nam e
is Magdelena) into a prostitute. Rodulfo is finally domi
nated by his enemies, and in order to survive he becomes a
lowly stooge for a group of corrupt union o ffic ia ls. H e and
his sister survive, but their health, integrity, and per
sonality are devastated. They are comfortable economically
but destroyed morally and psychologically. The mother, in
the meantime, has returned to the provinces where she finds
contentment.
Azuela's final novel, published in 1956, is entitled,
16
in Spanish, Esa sangre. While the lite ra l translation
16
M e x ic o C i t y : Fondo d e C u lt u r a E c o n o m ic a , 1 9 5 6 .
326
would be "that blood," a more accurate English translation
is Blood T ells. This cannot be considered one of Azuela's
good novels, but it is interesting in that the author's
protagonist is Julian Andrade, the brutal hacendado w ho
murdered Marcela and Gertrudis in the second novel analyzed
in this investigation.
This format enables Azuela to compare and contrast a
prerevolutionary and postrevolutionary provincial setting.
Julian, now an old and poor man, has returned to San Fran-
cisguito intent on recovering his expropriated lands through
a legal process. H e makes a sentimental trip to the haci
enda, and the changes are dramatic: his old house, the
master's house, is in ruins* the ex-peones now occupy the
lands; and his name, Andrade, which once struck fear into
the hearts of the lowly, now means nothing. The town has
changed also. It has grown, and m any of the important
people are outsiders. The mayor of the town, however, is a
local. His nam e is Gertrudis, and he is the nephew of
Julian's old enemy.
Julian has not changed as m uch as has the environment.
H e s t i l l considers himself superior to the peasants and town
officials, even though he is poor. His intransigence f i
nally leads him into conflict with El Fruncido, the
327
representative of the National Agrarian Commission. The
issue of legal ownership of the hacienda soon becomes a
personal one, and Julian and the agrarista end up killing
each other in a western-style duel.
In the novels discussed above, Azuela continued to
focus on the new middle class, but his focus shifted from
the new political elite to the new out-groups. All of the
main characters portrayed in these novels lived within an
amalgamated bourgeois culture. They a ll tried to satisfy
their demands within an amalgamated political process. A nd
they a ll failed. These are the "losers," the individuals
w ho lost out in an environment where losing tends to be
to tal and devastating— the amalgamated culture, character
ized by an exaggerated individualism and the lack of a tem
pering, modern social context, offers little opportunity for
compromise.
W hen the characters in these novels are viewed as a
group, there can be seen two different types of response to
failure. The response of m any losers is to resign them
selves, at least temporarily, to a secondary role within the
amalgamated culture, with the hope of eventually making the
right alliances and joining the right elects. The charac
ters w ho respond in this manner to their "loser" roles are
portrayed by Azuela as having sacrified their wills in an
effort to get ahead. They tend to stop thinking for them
selves and eventually to lose their identities in their
blind submission to authority. Examples of this type of
response are numerous: almost a ll of the characters in The
N ew Middle Class; Juan Cocoliso., the husband of L a Marchan-
ta; Serafina's father in The Dominated W om an; and Rodulfo
Montelongo in The Curse. The last mentioned is probably the
most developed character of this group, although a ll are
portrayed only as types . Rodulfo, upon migrating to Mexico
City, ascends rapidly through the ranks of the government
bureaucracy. H e gets a position as a union leader w ho is
underhandedly working for the government. From there he
"earns" a position as a P N R representative to congress. His
enemies, w ho at this top level are also masters at manipu
lating the amalgamated p o litical process, succeed in tum
bling him from power and having him jailed. H e gets out of
ja il by blackmailing those w ho ordered his arrest. A nd he
ends as a minor stooge, economically more comfortable than
many; but he has lost his self-respect and his identity as
an individual. H e is nothing more than a robot, perfunc
torily doing minor tasks for his "superiors."
Azuela is obviously antipathetic to this response.
329
Most of these characters end badly, and none find content
ment by adhering to amalgamated values. Just as obviously,
the alternate type of response to failure represents Azu
ela's advocacy: the heroes of these novels a ll decide to
reject the key amalgamated bourgeois values by which they
had been living in favor of a return to more traditional
values. Azuela demonstrates through these characters that
amalgamated individuals cannot find personal contentment.
The "winners," the economically and politically successful
individuals portrayed in the earlier protest novels, did
not find happiness in spite of their material gains. N o w
the losers suffer the same fate. But as losers, Azuela can
have them logically search for alternatives. The alterna
tive that Azuela espouses is for these new groups to turn
back to the cultural and geographical point of origin.
Contentment can be found only by returning to traditional
values and to the place where one belongs. This necessi
tates a rejection of amalgamated bourgeois values and of
the material and social rewards achieved through the amal
gamated p olitical process .
In effect, Azuela is advocating a conscious alienation
from the amalgamated bourgeois culture. The individual must
alienate himself from a society that cannot produce personal
330
contentment, and this alienation entails the deliberate
rejection of two amalgamated bourgeois values. O ne of these
values has been described as "assignation," the mobility-
stratificatio n amalgam. Mobility carries the implication
that the individual should earn his progress on the basis of
socially beneficial achievement. In the amalgam, the social
context is missing, and upward mobility is assigned by a
superior in the hierarchy.
Several of Azuela's characters demonstrate the unhappi
ness inherent in making an assigned type of mobility a top
priority. The best example is Serafina (The Dominated
W om an) . Her ambitions lead her into a frustrating existence
in Mexico City. The problem, as Azuela sees it, is that
Serafina is trying to follow a career for which she w as not
born. Fernanda (La marchanta) also finds contentment in
going back to the role that w as her birthright. Other
characters w ho turn back and find happiness are Rodulfo's
mother in The Curse, and Bartolo, the contented shoemaker
in The N ew Middle Class.
Azuela's advocacy of a return to the past is illu s
trated by these characters, w ho reject assignation in favor
of the traditional value of stratificatio n . People are
"born" into social roles, and, as a minor character puts it,
331
one should not want to be more than one i s .
The other value that prevents personal satisfaction is
the spiritualism-materialism amalgam, egoism. Amalgamated
man, an economic egoist, strives for material gain without
regard for social considerations. Examples of individuals
w ho m ake selfish material gain the overriding goal of life
are numerous; and none finds real contentment through mate
ria l satisfaction.
Again, Azuela advocates a return to the traditional
value, in this case spiritualism . Salvation, while not the
only purpose of life , should be given priority over materi
alism. Adherence to Christian principles is far more im
portant than material satisfaction, and the person w ho
sacrifices the former for the la tte r has m ade a bad bargain.
Fernanda, Bartolo the shoemaker, and Serafina a ll find con
tentment in a fa ta listic acceptance of their situation,
viewing their roles in life as being determined by Divine
Providence. O n the contrary, those w ho improve their mate
ria l situation by violating Christian morals pay a heavy
psychological price.
332
Thirteen novels, covering a span of three decades, have
been analyzed in this section. These works have been d i
vided into three chronological groups, with each group being
united by Azuela's evolving attitudes toward postrevolution
ary Mexican society.
In his three experimental novels, written during the
years immediately following the military phase of the Revo
lution, Azuela interprets the process of the reconstruction
of Mexican society along new lines. Azuela perceives that
urban migration, spurred by the Revolution to epic propor
tions, is changing the nature of society. Azuela treats the
migrant sympathetically, seeing him as a helpless victim of
a corrupt environment. The author is c ritic a l of that cor
rupt environment, but at this stage urban leaders are seen
only as background for the main story, the tragic plight of
the slum dweller. Azuela is also c ritic a l of the fanaticism
of provincial Mexico. H e is not sympathetic to the tra d i
tional aristocrats w ho are alienated from the national
regime. H e is, however, sympathetic to traditional values.
The only character w ho finds contentment in the urban en
vironment does so by consciously alienating herself from
that environment and by living according to traditional
values.
333
In the 1930s, Azuela begins to use his novels as ve
hicles for his criticism of the revolutionary regime. In
his next four novels, covering this entire decade, Azuela
describes critically the new p olitical e lite : labor lead
ers, military men, aqraristas, and the upper-level public
bureaucracy. These new leaders are viewed as being amal
gamated: they are p olitical recipients w ho thrive in
structures that are elects and that function eclectically.
Characters with values that are relatively more modern or
more traditional are alienated from the dominant amalgamated
bourgeois culture; and those alienated out-groups are por
trayed sympathetically.
In his final novels, written during the stable, pros
perous 1940s, Azuela returns to describe the urban migrants,
the new middle class. Twenty years have passed, and Azuela
is no longer sympathetic toward these urban underdogs.
Instead of helpless victims, he now sees than as having a
choice. The right choice, from Azuela's point of view,
calls for the urbanite to deliberately choose alienation as
a response to the urban, amalgamated bourgeois culture.
The urban dweller can find personal contentment only by
rejecting the unchecked materialism and ambition of the
amalgamated culture, choosing instead to live by spiritual
334
values and to be satisfied with a role that was ascribed to
one by Divine Providence.
C H A P T E R VIII
C O N C L U S IO N
For good reason, Mexicans use the upper-case "R " when
writing the word "Revolution" in reference to the events
that began in 1910. N o one can seriously deny that Mexican
society has changed profoundly and permanently since the
fa ll of Porfirio Diaz. This investigation resulted from the
observation that, while scholars in m any disciplines have
analyzed and interpreted the events that comprise the Revo
lution, little is known about what those events meant, in
human and social terms, to the anonymous masses w ho lived
through them. A definitive social history of the Mexican
Revolution has not been written, primarily because of the
d ifficu lties in obtaining documentary data upon which to
base such a study. A social historian's task, arduous even
in the best of circumstances, is especially d ifficu lt in a
society that has undergone such rapid, profound, and violent
changes.
335
336
The underlying purpose of this investigation has been
to explore the possibility of using the novel as a source
for the study of the social history of the Mexican Revolu
tion. T o implement this exploration requires several pre
liminary steps: firs t, a specific social problem w as se
lected; second, a methodology combining the investigative
techniques of two academic areas was developed; then the
novel and its relationship to society were studied; next,
the social science problem and the novel, both features of
Western society, were studied within the prerevolutionary
Mexican environment; and finally, using novels as the p ri
mary source, the problem was studied as it appeared in
revolutionary Mexico.
P olitical alienation was selected as an appropriate
problem. From an investigation of the social science re
search on this problem, it w as concluded that alienation is
linked to the modernization process: sociological changes
associated with such key Western watersheds as the Renais
sance, the industrial revolution, and the Enlightenment
increased the potential for alienation in Western society by
creating in individuals certain new values and expectations
that could not be satisfied by the social system. A con
ceptual framework, meant to be used for the qualitative
337
analysis of p olitical alienation, was constructed; and in
it, p olitical alienation w as seen as being based on a dis
crepancy between an individual's p olitical expectations and
the objective p olitical reality in which he ex ists. These
expectations are based on values that are learned by the
individual from his cultural experiences, and the political
process tends to operate according to the values of the
p o litical e lite . Social and p olitical values were seen to
range from traditional to modern on a cultural continuum;
so p o litical alienation can be seen to stem from a discrep
ancy between the values of the individual, which produce
p o litical expectations, and the values that predominate in
the p o litical process.
The investigation of political alienation also ascer
tained that, in addition to being a social problem involving
the interaction of the individual with his institutions, the
problem can also be viewed as a psychological one. Aliena
tion can be an affective state in which an individual sub
jectively experiences feelings of estrangement. These feel
ings were incorporated into the framework after being con
ceptualized as powerlessness, meaninglessness, normlessness,
and isolation.
The methodology developed for using the novel as a
338
source for the study of political alienation entailed the
"loading" of the abstract concepts of the framework with
data taken from the novels of Mariano Azuela. This method
ology w as described as being "pan-disciplinary," because it
involved the integration of social science analysis and
literary analysis.
In the study of the novel and its relationship to so
ciety, it was found that in the Western experience that
genre was closely related to the modernization process. In
that w ay it is linked to alienation, and indeed Western
novelists have given m uch attention to that problem. The
novel developed from the modernization process in that i t
was written by and for the new middle class. It w as a revo
lutionary genre, as it supported the middle class over the
traditional ruling classes . The Wbstern experience indi
cated that the novel could not develop in a pre-modern
society, and that it will develop in conjunction with modern
p o litical development.
A n examination of Mexican literary history supports
this contention. The narrative prose written throughout
the nineteenth century was found not to meet the sociologi
cal c rite ria established for both the novel and modern
political development. The century did serve, however, as
339
an incubatory period for both the novel and political m od
ernization: Ferndndez de Lizardi initiated a literary
"naissance," an origination of narrative prose in Mexico,
but it was written for the upper class. Altamirano provided
a literary "ignition, 1 1 a kindling of novelistic activity,
but the "novels1 1 of this period were s t i l l e litis t and imi
tative of French models; and the e litis t writers of the Diaz
era were advocating a revolt, but not a revolution, against
the dictator's regime.
A brief investigation of nineteenth-century Mexican
p olitical development revealed sociological parallels to
literary development. Fathers Hidalgo and Morelos, Benito
Juarez, and Porfirio Diaz ruled over an environment that did
not yet have the sociological prerequisites for p olitical
modernity. B y the beginning of the twentieth century, how
ever, the sociological c riteria com m on to the novel, to
p o litical modernization, and to p olitical alienation were
found to be present in Mexican society: a numerically sig
nificant middle class that was conscious of its identity as
a class, and the advocacy by members of that new class of
the replacement of the traditional ruling groups, including
its corresponding values and institutions, by themselves and
their ow n values and institu tion s.
340
Once these sociological conditions existed, the Mexican
Revolution, the Mexican novel, and an increase in the poten
tia l for alienation were logically forthcoming. The element
needed for the birth of the Mexican novel, that is, narra
tive prose that was truly Mexican and truly novel, was a
creative genius w ho w as consciously a m em ber of the new
middle class and w ho applied his a rtistic talents to the
writing of prose. Mariano Azuela w as found to meet these
qualifications: he was from solid middle-class background
and conscious of it; he was a prolific writer of prose, from
his days as a student to almost the day he died; he is
widely acclaimed am ong literary critics as a creative gen
ius; his works have stood the test of time; he was an eye
witness to and participant in the Revolution; and his novels
deal with those experiences.
This attempt to use novels as a source for the study of
an aspect of the social history of the Mexican Revolution
was based on the premise that the a rtis t, through his crea
tive genius, can m ake valuable contributions to the under
standing of reality . The a rtist has the license and the
inclination to explore freely, where the scientist might be
considered an unwelcome intruder, in the minds and the feel
ings of anybody and everybody. This perspective enables the
341
a rtis t to explore the impact of events upon the individual
as well as the events themselves. The novelist— that is,
the novelist w ho is a creative a r tis t— should offer insights
into how individuals react to society and how society reacts
to the individual. According to this premise, then, Mariano
Azuela should have been able to offer such insights into the
revolutionary society of Mexico: his genius is attested to
by literary c ritic s, and his novelistic production covers
the entire revolutionary epoch, from pre-1910 to post-1940.
The findings of this investigation are supportive of
this premise concerning the insight of the a rtist, and, if
it is accepted that Mariano Azuela and the Mexican Revolu
tion provided an appropriate "test case," of using the novel
as a source for the study of social history. These conclu
sions are based on the analyses of the eighteen novels
Azuela wrote between 1908 and 1952 . The detailed analysis
of each novel appears in the text; and the following general
summary illu strates, in a general way, Azuela's intuitive
and accurate social interpretation of the Revolution.
Prerevolutionary Mexico
Several of Azuela's earlier works were excluded from
this study on the basis that, early in his career, he was an
342
"establishment novelist." But Azuela did write two very
good novels, in fact the firs t two truly Mexican novels as
judged by the criteria used in the investigation, that dealt
with prerevolutionary Mexico. In The Failures and Marcela,
Azuela portrays the impact of modernization on the key so
cial groups of Mexican society. While the forces of modern
ization can and have been analyzed by social scientists,
Azuela's portrayal includes an added dimension: that of
the emotional impact of such changes on individuals.
The traditional ruling groups are s t i l l in control of
provincial Mexico; but modernization, although centered far
away, already has begun to touch their lives. They have
become amalgamated caciques. D on Agapito (Failures), Father
Cabezudos (Failures), and Julian Andrade (Marcela) a ll feel
threatened by these alien influences. They a ll react with
violence to the threat of losing what they view as their
rightful places of dominance. Father Cabezudos is an es
pecially good example of the feelings generated by seeing
what is cherished being chipped away by "evil" forces. The
response is one of hatred and fanaticism, but in this social
view one can understand, and even sympathize with, the
plight of the p riest.
Change is also touching the peasantry. Azuela portrays
343
the firs t awakening of the peon to modernization. Marcela
and Gertrudis (Marcela) break out of their subjugated roles
and become amalgamated; but in doing so they have isolated
themselves from their community and their lives are empty.
Resendez (Failures). the urban, amalgamated intellec
tual, is a product of the Western enclave. His ideals are
based on modern values and his idealism is crushed in the
provincial community. H e rationally chooses alienation from
a society he deplores, choosing to withdraw into himself.
Modernization is influencing all of Azuela's charac
ters, regardless of social class or geographical location;
and the experience is a painful one for almost everybody.
In spite of the alienation i t creates, modernization has the
m om entum , and the status quo is doomed. Azuela anticipates
the Revolution, and the great pain it will cause, in this
way. Elements of revolution are present in these firs t
works: the provincial amalgamated e lite is threatened to
the point of fanatical reaction; amalgamated peasants are
rebelling at paternal malevolence; a group of amalgamated
middle-class opportunists is waiting to take advantage of
the situation; and amalgamated intellectuals are alienated
from the status quo.
The rapid modernization of society causes alienation
am ong those whose values are shaped by i t as well as am ong
those w ho re sist i t . The urban e lite , of course, were most
directly influenced by modernization^ but the concept of the
amalgamated culture can be used to demonstrate that m en like
Resendez (Failures), however modern their values appeared to
be, were amalgamated: their modern values amalgamated with
the m any traditional elements existing in their environment,
producing what can be called an amalgamated intellectual.
The p o litical orientation of such individuals was modern in
the sense that they valued democratic participation in the
p o litical process. O n the other hand, they held a paternal
view toward the masses, w ho were viewed as equal hum an
beings, but w ho needed to be educated and guided by someone
with a more modern background. The resulting amalgamated
p olitical value can be described as paternal equalitarian-
ism. After Resendez' p o litical ideals had been smashed in
the provincial environment of Alamos, he displayed this
paternal equalitarianism in the final scene of the novel.
The firs t thing Resendez sees upon regaining consciousness
is a huge granite statue of Benito Juarez. H e sees hope for
the future and for democracy in that symbol, but the statue
also symbolized his feeling that democratic ideals must be
"... made in granite, in the only form that the masses
345
respect and venerate: blind, harsh dogma" (Failures. pp.
243-244). This paternally equalitarian value anticipates a
key characteristic of the maderistas. Madero himself, the
Apostle of Democracy, always expected the masses to be
patient and to bow to the conventional wisdom of their
"democratic leaders."
These paternal equalitarians were alienated from p o lit
ical settings that rejected their democratic values. A nd
later they would become alienated from the restive masses,
w ho would become increasingly less willing to wait patiently
and humbly for democracy to com e to them.
Modernization also influenced the very m en w ho tried to
resist the sociological changes associated with i t . The
traditional rural e lite adopted modern values of material
ism and p ro fit. The resulting amalgamated hacendado, now
influenced by the desire for material gain, became a malevo
lent patron. The loss of benevolence alienated the rural
masses from the traditional dominance-subjugation relation
ship, as seen through Marcela and Gertrudis (Marcela) and
later on through Demetrio (Underdogs).
Finally, peasants became amalgamated by demonstration
effect and by exogenous influences. Luis Cervantes, for
example, helped amalgamate Demetrio and his men. The
346
amalgamated peasant no longer accepted the dominance-
subjugation relationship; but neither could they adopt such
an alien attitude as an equalitarian relationship, as
Demetrio demonstrates clearly. Having no relationship with
which to deal with power, the amalgamated peasant was prone
to blind, purposeless violence and destruction.
The Revolution: 1910-1917
In his six novels of the Revolution, Azuela again por
trays individual feelings and reactions, the emotional im
pact of the epic events of the period. Maderismo is the key
ideological influence of the firs t phase of the Revolution.
This represented a p o litical aspect of modernization, and it
influenced a ll of Mexican society.
From the point of view of human feelings, maderismo w as
a painful experience for most. Intellectuals played a
prominent role in bringing maderismo out of the Western
enclaves and into the provinces; and, quite naturally, in
tellectuals play prominent roles in Azuela's novels. The
intellectual of this period is faced with a dilemma. Azuela
perceives from the outset that the modern p o litical ideals
of maderismo are inappropriate for Mexican society and are
going to fa il. The intellectual w ho remains true to his
347
ideals is therefore doomed to failure. Tono (Andres Perez),
Solis (Underdogs). and Rodriguez (Bosses) are a ll idealists
w ho not only failed, but failed to survive. Solis' death
is an ironic one, but the other two died for their ideals.
Thus maderismo helped eliminate from the Mexican environment
the true id e a lists. Andres Perez and Luis Cervantes (Under
dogs ). on the other hand, used the maderista movement oppor
tunistically. In so doing, they betrayed the movement they
were espous ing.
The concept of the amalgamated culture can contribute
to the understanding of the behavior of the new middle class
and of the in tellectu als. The paternal equalitarianism of
the amalgamated intellectual is evidenced through Tono
(Andres Perez), Rodriguez (Bosses), and Solis (Underdogs).
Solis, for example, is disillusioned completely with the
democratic notion that the masses are capable of governing
themselves. H e sees Mexicans as a race that awaits redemp
tion, and their innate, animal-like violence rules out any
democratic method of emergence. Redemption connotes a
deliverance inspired by somebody from above, not from
within.
During the Revolution, Azuela begins to anticipate the
emergence of the new urban middle class . Their political
348
behavior is not similar to that of their Western counter
parts; and this difference can be understood by viewing the
Mexican middle class as an "amalgamated bourgeoisie."
Azuela perceived the betrayal of maderismo am ong this
middle class also. The provincial bourgeoisie in The Bosses
were thrust into political power by Madero's distant suc
cesses; but they were s t i l l culturally subjugated. M ade
rismo meant p olitical freedom and autonomy, but this was an
alien doctrine to these new maderistas. A social group that
should have supported maderismo failed to do so because of
their feelings. Instead of destroying the caciques, which
was a prerequisite for the emergence of the social order,
the new maderistas m ade alliances with them. Thus they
traded a chance for to tal victory for cultural security.
The peasant. Demetrio'Macias (Underdogs) is confused by
maderismo and rejects a ll its doctrines completely. There
is no ideology involved in his fighting. H e is rebelling
against paternal malevolence, not paternalism. His coopera
tion with the national revolutionary movement w as in the
nature of an alliance for mutual benefit, not for ideology.
After the collapse of maderismo, Azuela sees a new
ethic emerging: to live is to adapt oneself to the environ
ment, regardless of ideology, values, and norms. The
349
"favored species" becomes the m an w ho has been torn loose
from his traditional values, but has not internalized modern
values. These are the "flies," the migrants to the city w ho
hold lower echelon positions in the bureaucracy. Azuela
anticipates an exhausted Mexico falling into the hands of
the most clever of this amalgamated bourgeoisie. Through
Procopio (Trials of a Decent Family). Azuela portrays the
anguish involved in being torn loose from one set of values
and exposed to another. This anguish contributes to Pro-
copio's turning back toward traditional goals. In this w ay
Azuela anticipates, before the dust has settled on the
battlefields, the traditional reaction to the Revolution.
The Postrevolutionary Period
In his three so-called experimental novels, Azuela por
trays the human side of the process of reconstruction.
Mexican society emerges along new lines; and Azuela not only
anticipates the nature of the new society, but also explores
the feelings of the individuals w ho are part of i t . The
mushrooming urban environment is a cruel one, and only the
cruel prosper. Through Altagracia (The Evil One), Azuela
demonstrates the emotional impact of slum life upon the in
dividual. It is one of hopelessness and despair.
350
Ironically, in the most obvious symbol of modernization, the
city, the slum dweller's role in life is as predetermined
and as rigidly permanent as that of the peon on a Porfirian
hacienda. There is a psychological difference, however:
the surrounding illusion of modernity generates expectations
in the slum dweller which lead to his alienation.
The exploitative, aggressive behavior of the amalga
mated bourgeoisie can be attributed in part to the rapidity
with which the modernization process touched Mexico. Having
experienced the influences of modernization in a telescoped
time frame, the bourgeoisie adopted modern individual values
without internalizing the correspondingly modern social
norms. The resulting amalgamated bourgeoisie valued par
ticipation in the p o litical process, but they participated
according to more traditional social norms. Cervantes
(Underdogs) provides an early example of the opportunism,
hypocrisy, and self-centered participation of the amalga
mated bourgeoisie.
Through Concha (The Firefly). Azuela sees a way to find
som e measure of personal satisfaction in the urban environ
ment. Concha is alienated from the fanaticism of her native
provincial environment and from the unchecked materialism
and ambition of Mexico City. But she finds contentment in
351
isolating herself psychologically from the urban setting and
devoting herself to family and to spiritual values.
Azuela's final "novels of protest" are of limited use
as sources for the study of a problem in social history. H e
does present an interesting picture of the new leadership of
Mexico: labor leaders, agraristas, the new military, and
the upper-level, technologically oriented bureaucrats. H e
also portrays the new underdogs of Mexico, the urban out
groups. Azuela's protest is aimed at the corruption, oppor
tunism, and hypocrisy of the leaders and the unchecked
ambition and aspirations of the out-groups. His thesis is
that happiness cannot be achieved if these "false" values
of exaggerated materialism and mobility are given priority
over the more traditional spiritual and fa ta listic values.
In Azuela's view of postrevolutionary society, p o liti
cal alienation a fflicts those w ho have lost power because of
the Revolution: clerics and ex-hacendados. While aliena
tion am ong these groups could be expected in view of the
historical circumstances, Azuela never portrays these groups
in any d etail. Another group that is curiously neglected by
Azuela in his portrayal of postrevolutionary society is the
one that played such an important part in his earlier works,
the intellectual. O ne would expect the idealistic
352
intellectual to be alienated from a hypocritical, corrupt
p o litical regime, but Azuela does not include a single in
tellectual in his later works.
Instead, Azuela concentrates almost exclusively on the
amalgamated bourgeoisie . Instead of portraying alienation
from this new in-group in terms of other social groups,
Azuela portrays the alienation that exists within the group.
His heroes are members of the amalgamated bourgeoisie w ho
consciously reject their previous ambition and materialism
in favor of a return to traditional morality.
While the content of these novels does not add m uch to
the picture of the social history of the Mexican Revolution,
it would be profitable to examine why. The underlying pur
pose of this investigation involved exploring the possi
b ility of using the novel as a source. It is felt that
Azuela's earlier novels proved to be a valuable source. The
contrast with the less valuable novels offers som e insight
into what novels should be used for this type of investiga
tion.
In the two different groups of novels, Azuela goes from
using a creative process to using a descriptive process. In
the creative novels, the author invented a person, provided
him with a suitable environment, and then watched, listened,
353
and recorded as his creation interacted with his environ
ment. A creative genius w ho w as an integral part of that
environment himself, Azuela selected personages, circum
stances, problems, conflicts, and put them together. In
this w ay he created characters w ho interacted with society
in a logical, believable way. Through his characters he
offered an objective view of reality as he saw i t . Since
his characters were totally immersed in and interacting with
their environments, Azuela was often able to anticipate the
direction that society would take.
In the novels of protest, Azuela used a descriptive
process more than a creative one. These are novels of the
sis j and when the author is advocating something, the proc
ess of construction becomes less creative. The inclination
is to select only those variables that support the thesis,
and therefore the characters are not totally and logically
immersed in the created environment. In the protest novels
Azuela described society, and he did so with great s k ill.
But he did not explore how it feels to be part of that
society. If the feelings of a character are not known, or
if they are not seen as stemming logically from a w e 11-
developed character, the source resembles a social science
one rather than a literary one. In that case, it would not
354
be appropriate for use in an investigation of this design.
The indication is, then* that novels of thesis, or novels in
which the author strongly advocates a particular cause, are
of questionable value as sources for the study of social
history.
While Azuela's view of society w as intuitive and anti
cipatory in his novels written before 1930, his later novels
advocate more than anticipate. It cannot be said with to tal
accuracy that his view of society w as "wrong" in the later
novels; but his view does seem somewhat distorted by his
eagerness to proselytize for a moral cause. His view of
the p o litical regime as being corrupt, hypocritical, and
incompetent can be supported to a point by what is known of
the objective reality of that period. But his one-sided
portrayal of an evil political system seems exaggerated
beyond the level of accuracy.
Azuela's perception of the politically alienated in
this period cannot be considered as "wrong" either, but it
does seem not to reflect the objective reality of that per
iod. His emphasis on alienation from a secular, material
istic regime m ay be correct in kind, but not in degree.
That such alienates did exist in the 1930s and 1940s is
supported in objective reality by the birth of a
355
restorationist political movement at the end of the 1930s .
A movement called Sinarquismo (without anarchy) and a p o lit
ical party known as P A N (National Action Party) cam e into
being about the time Azuela was writing The N ew Middle
Class . These movements were supported by alienates from the
secular, m aterialistic, and collectivist national regime.
Their priorities were firs t God, then a God-fearing state
and public morality.^ The characters in Azuela's novels of
this period reflect the same sort of alienation and the sam e
p rio rities. In fact, there is a remarkable sim ilarity be
tween the doctrine espoused by Azuela's mouthpieces and the
party platform formed by P A N for the 1940 presidential cam
paign (Johnson, p. 658). But that political movement was,
and s t i l l is, a small minority one in Mexico. A nd Azuela's
portrayal of Mexican society of the 1930s can be misleading
in terms of the extent of p olitical alienation from the
national regime.
This is a clear indication of the' danger in using the
works of a special pleader as sources. Azuela's early works,
■ ^ F o r a study of this movement, see Kenneth F. Johnson,
"Ideological Correlates of Right W ing Political Alienation
in Mexico," American Political Science Review. 59 (Sept.
1965), 658.
356
demonstrating a creative genius confirmed by c ritic s , were
intuitive and accurately reflected objective reality; his
later novels, whose diminished a rtistic merit is also con
firmed by c ritic s, were subjective pleas in which the view
of society was distorted by the moral outrage of the author.
Another finding ascertained from this "test case" can
be stated in the form of a reservation. Although Azuela
wrote m any novels, and it is fe lt that most of them proved
to be valuable sources in this investigation, there are what
might be called "gaps" in Azuela's portrayal of society. It
would be impossible for a novelist, no matter how prolific,
to interpret every group and every aspect of society in his
works. In Azuela's coverage of Mexican society, there are
at least two important gaps. After Father Cabezudos (The
Failures), Azuela develops no clerics as important charac
ters; and there is no portrayal of the industrial e lite , a
group that became more important in the 1930s and 1940s.
This is not meant to indicate that Azuela was remiss in not
including such portrayals in his works, but that novels are
just one potential source, not the source, for the study of
social history.
This investigation also led to a finding that reverses
the problem being investigated. While it is felt that
357
novels are a useful source for history, the investigation
also indicated that social science can be a useful source
for literary analysis. Azuela's interpretations and antici
pations have been compared with those of social science
scholars; and no major discrepancies, inconsistencies, or
misinterpretations were noted. Also, Azuela's characters,
created from his a rtistic intuition, were analyzed by using
numerous social science concepts and relational proposi
tions; the a rtis t's creations invariably behaved in a w ay
that w as consistent with the independently created frame
work .
From the early 1940s to the present, a beginning Span
ish text called El Camino Real has been widely used in the
secondary schools of the United States. Literally hundreds
of thousands of North Americans have been introduced to the
Spanish language by these words taken from the firs t lesson
of that book: "El burro es un animal importante en Mexico"
("The donkey is an important animal of Mexico"). The dialog
goes on to explain that "El burro es el companero del indio
pobre de Mexico" ("The donkey is the friend of the poor
Mexican Indian") and that "El burro . . . es el automovil
del hombre pobre" ("The donkey . . . is the automobile of
358
2
the poor man").
In conjunction with that dialog, a drawing appears.
Illustrations of similar composition m ay appear in Spanish
texts, in travelogs, on travel posters, and in any other
visual medium which depicts Mexico for North Americans. The
illustratio n invariably shows, as it does in El Camino Real.
a peon, clad in the traditional white cotton work shirt and
pants, huaraches, a sombrero, and a serape. The "hombre
pobre" is walking alongside his burro, w ho is carrying a
cargo of som e kind. Such illustrations usually show the
peon and his "automovil" moving dow n a modern, paved street.
O n the street are real automobiles and m en in business
su its. In the background can be seen a skyscraper or two.
The caption m ay read something lik e : "Mexico—Land of Color
and Contrast: W here the Old Meets the New."
This visual image presents a fascinating paradox for
the North American, and no doubt i t is effective in a ttra c t
ing tourists w ho are anxious to see "the old meeting the
new." But this investigation points to another, far more
fascinating aspect of the paradox. That is: what is the
2
Edith Jarret and Beryl M cM anus, El Camino Real: Book
O ne (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1953), pp. 30-31.
359
peon thinking and feeling as he drives his burro dow n a city
street? W hat are his attitudes toward the m en in business
suits? Is the burro really his "companeroj " or would he
like to exchange it for an automobile? O n the other side,
what does the m an w ho works in the skyscraper think about
the burro in front of his building? A nd what of the m an
w ho did succeed in trading his burro for an automobile and
now works in a skyscraper?
The impact on the individual of this contrast between
old and new, with an infinite number of blends in between,
is as complex as it is interesting. The tourist w ho does
v isit this land of contrast would no doubt find Mariano
Azuela's portrayal of his countrymen too c ritic a l, for
Mexicans are am ong the most courteous and charming people in
the world. The feelings, attitudes, and values of the Mexi
can, whether he wears a serape or a suit, cannot be physi
cally separated as can concrete objects . Mexico m ay be a
land of contrasts visually; but in terms of people, it would
seem to be more a land of blends. The peon and the busi
nessman have affective properties in relation to one an
other; and the result is that the m an with the burro is not
a traditional peon emotionally; nor is the m an in the sky
scraper a "modern" businessman in the Western sense of the
360
word. Both, have been viewed here as amalgamated men, in
dividuals whose values reflect an intimate mixture of the
traditional and the modern.
Azuela, in his function as a c ritic a l, probing novel
is t, stressed the negative aspects of this emotional blend.
But it should be remembered that any set of values has a
positive and a negative aspect. Activism, for example, can
lead to "having initiativ e" or to "being aggressive."
Fatalism can lead to "being loyal" or to "being stupidly
passive." The perceptive observer of the Mexican scene no
doubt will experience the positive aspects; the novelist,
as social c ritic , stresses the negative. With this as well
as the reservations discussed earlier in mind, it is hoped
that the methodology and the findings generated by this in
vestigation can contribute in som e w ay to the development
of information about what it fe lt like to live in a certain
place, at a certain time.
SE L E CT E D B I B L I O G R A P H Y
361
&
S E L E C T E D B IB L IO G R A P H Y
Literature
Primary sources
Below are Azuela's novels used as documentary sources
in the tex t. English translations are listed also. All of
Azuela's novels, in addition to his short stories, theater,
biography, autobiography, and criticism , are included in the
three-volume edition of his Obras com p let as published in
Mexico City by the Fondo de Cultura Economica, Vols. I and
II in 1958 and Vol. I ll in 1960.
Andres Perez, maderista. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas,
1945 .
Avanzada. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1940.
Los caciques. Mexico City: Talleres Editoriales de la Cia,
Periodxstica Nacional, 1917.
El camarada Pantoja. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1937.
Los de abajo. El Paso, Texas: Bolletxn de El Paso del
Norte, October-December 1915.
El desquite. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1941.
Domitilo quiere ser diputado. Mexico City: Ediciones Bo-
tas, 1945.
Esa s a n q r e . M exico C i t y : Fondo de C u ltu r a E conom ica, 1956.
362
363
Los fracasados. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1939.
La luciernaga. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, S.A., 1932 .
Mala yerba. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1945.
La maldicion. Mexico City; Fondo de Cultura Economica,
1955.
La malhora. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1941.
La marchanta. Mexico City: Secretaria de Educacion Pub-
lica, 1944.
Las moscas. Mexico City: Tip. de A . Carranza e Hijos,
1918.
La mujer domada. Mexico City: El Colegio de Mexico, 1946.
Nueva burguesia. Buenos Aires: Club del Libro A.L.A., 1941.
Regina Landa. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1939.
San Gabriel de Valdivias. comunidad indigena. Santiago de
Chile: Ercilla, 1938.
Sendas perdidas. Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1949.
Las tribulaciones de una familia decente. Ed. Frances
Hendricks and Beatrice Berler. N ew York: Macmillan
Co., 1966.
Marcela: A Mexican Love Story [Mala yerba]. Trans. Anita
Brenner. N ew York: Farrar and Rinehart, 1932.
T w o Novels of Mexico: The F lies, The Bosses fLas moscas,
Los caciques] . Trans. Lesley B. Simpson. Los Angeles:
Univ. of California Press, 1956.
T w o Novels of the Mexican Revolution: The Trials of a
Respectable Family: The Underdogs [Las tribulaciones
de una familia decente: Los de abajo]. Trans. F. K .
Hendricks and Beatrice Berler. San Antonio, Texas:
Principia Press of Trinity Univ., 1963.
364
The Underdogs fLos de abajo]. Trans. Enrique Munguia, Jr.
N ew York: Brentano's, 1929. Second ed., London:
Jonathan Cape, 1930. Third ed., paperback, N ew York:
N ew American Library, 1962.
Secondary sources: books
Aguirre, Ramiro. Panorama de la literatura mexicana del
siglo X X . Mexico City: Ediciones U.M.E., 1968.
Alegria, Fernando. Breve historia de la novela hispano-
americana. Mexico City: Ediciones de Andrea, 1959.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . Historia de la novela hispanoamericana.
Mexico City: Ediciones de Andrea, 1965.
Anderson Imbert, Enrique. Historia de la literatura hispa
noamericana . 2 vols. Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura
Economica, 1964.
Aub, M ax. Guia de narradores de la Revolucion Mexicana.
Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1969.
Azuela, Mariano. Cien anos de la novela mexicana. Mexico
City: Ediciones Botas, 1947.
Berler, Beatrice, ed. Epistolario y archivo. Mexico City:
Universidad Autonoma de Mexico, 1969.
Brushwood, John S. Mexico in Its Novel. Austin: Univ. of
Texas Press, 1966.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. The Romantic Novel in Mexico. Columbia,
Mo.: Univ. of Missouri Studies, 1954.
_ and Jose Rojas Garciduenas. Breve histo
ria de la novela mexicana. Mexico City: Ediciones de
Andrea, 1959.
Carballo, Emmanuel. Diecinueve protagonistas de la lite ra
tura mexicana del siglo X X . Mexico City: Empresas
Editoriales, 1965.
365
Castro Leal, Antonio, ed. La novela de la Revolucion Mexi
cana . 2 vols. Mexico City: Aguilar, 1960.
Fuentes, Carlos. The Death of Artemio Cruz. Trans. Sam
Hileman. N ew York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1964.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . W here the Air Is Clear. Trans. S am Hile
man. N ew York: Ivan Obolensky, Inc., 1960.
Jarret, Edith and Beryl M cM anus. El Camino Real: Book O ne .
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1953.
Jimenez Rueda, Julio. Historia de la literatura mexicana.
Mexico City: Ediciones Botas, 1957.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. Letras mexicanas en el siglo XIX.
Mexico City; Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1944.
Langford, Walter. The Mexican Novel C om es of Age. Notre
D am e, Ind.: Univ. of Notre D am e Press, 1971.
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Creator Redman, Ronald Paul (author)

Core Title Political Alienation In The Novels Of Mariano Azuela

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Latin American Studies

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag Literature, Latin American,Literature, Modern,OAI-PMH Harvest

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Advisor McMahon, Dorothy Elizabeth (committee chair), Curtis, Robert E. (committee member), Williams, Margaret Todaro (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c18-844029

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Legacy Identifier 7421500.pdf

Dmrecord 844029

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Rights Redman, Ronald Paul

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Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

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