Utopías Inquietantes - Narrativa proletaria en México.pdf

8WRStDVLQTXLHWDQWHVQDUUDWLYDSUROHWDULDHQ0p[LFR  UHYLHZ 0DQXHO*XWLpUUH] 5HYLVWDGH(VWXGLRV+LVSiQLFRV7RPR;/9,1~PHUR-XQLRSS 5HYLHZ 3XEOLVKHGE\:DVKLQJWRQ8QLYHUVLW\LQ6W/RXLV '2, KWWSVGRLRUJUYV )RUDGGLWLRQDOLQIRUPDWLRQDERXWWKLVDUWLFOH KWWSVPXVHMKXHGXDUWLFOH Access provided by Fondren Library, Rice University (29 Oct 2016 04:21 GMT) 374 Sección Bibliográica Ortega, Bertín. Utopías inquietantes: narrativa proletaria en México. Veracruz: Ataranzas, 2008. 231 pp. Mexican literary studies have dedicated much attention to the Novel of the Revolution, a genre that continues to inspire rereading. More recently, however, other genres of the immediate post-revolutionary era have caught the attention of scholars. Studies dedicated to Cristero and Indigenista novels, as well as to the experimental iction of the Contemporáneos and the Estridentistas, have expanded our understanding of 1920s and 1930s Mexican narrative. Yet, not surprising for an era rich in literary and artistic production, there still remain some subgenres to be explored, if not for their literary quality, certainly for their historical relevance. Bertín Ortega’s Utopías inquietantes: narrativa proletaria en México (2008), examines social realist literature that narrated the experience of downtrodden workers, corrupt union leaders, and heroic rural teachers in the 1930s. hese narratives focused on class conlict and were informed by socialist doctrines of various stripes. hese in turn imbued the plots of these works with pedagogical and ideological purpose. According to Ortega, novels like Gustavo Ortiz Hernan’s Chimeneas (1937), Miguel Bustos Cerecedo’s Un sindicato escolar (1936), and Raúl Carrancá y Trujillo’s ¡Camaradas! (1938), have been unfairly excluded from the purview of literary historiography. Noting that many of these social realist novels were centered on urban life in the age of Cardenismo, Utopías inquietantes attempts to reconstruct some of the more memorable narratives that have long been discarded by publishers and critics alike. In the introduction to Utopías inquietantes, Ortega describes the rise of the proletariat in Mexico and establishes a loose working deinition of what characterizes “proletarian narratives.” For Ortgea, most of these novels were written by professors who participated in the rural educational campaigns that succeeding revolutionary governments sponsored in the aftermath of the war of 1910. Ortega points out that many of these narratives focused on education and deployed iction as a means to educate workers and peasants about their civil and social rights (20). hese novels also depicted labor strikes and often openly advocated for unity among workers. Finally, corrupt politicians and heroic union leaders and teachers were staple characters of “proletarian narratives.” Chapter one, “Razones y condiciones para la aparición de un literatura proletaria,” elaborates on this deinition and further examines the historical conditions that gave rise in Mexico to a proletarian literature. According to Ortega, the main diference between these narratives and those that form part of the canon of the Novel of the Revolution is that the latter represented the revolution in a negative light. Proletarian literature on the other hand—though not an impartial observer—explicitly viewed itself as addressing a certain social class. Its main purpose, therefore, was to denounce the revolution’s mistakes, but more importantly, to support its successes and further its social commitment. While the Novels of the Revolution viewed the social upheaval as a failed enterprise, “proletarian narratives” believed the revolution was still ongoing and still capable of achieving its goals. Sección Bibliográica 375 Chapter two, “El campo como utopía,” focuses on narratives that addressed the experience of rural peasants as they came into contact with the metropolitan worker. he main goal of these narratives, like Ortiz Hernández’s Chimeneas, was to advocate for unity between peasant and urban workers. he author believed their struggles as laborers in the face of a modernizing nation was a common cause. Chapter three, “El cardenismo: hacia la nación soberana” analyzes novels set in the age of Lázaro Cárdenas. Despite the negative view of the Revolution presented by liberal authors like Mariano Azuela, in his canonical Los de Abajo, Ortega inds a more positive vision in “proletarian narratives” that echoed the euphoria of Cadenismo. hese texts, such as Fortino López’s Amaneceres (1937), focused on the revolution’s accomplishments and vindicated the successes of the post1917 revolutionary governments. It also highlighted that the many worker protests that characterized the 1930s often implicitly supported the Cárdenas presidency. Characteristic of most proletarian narratives, Amaneceres includes an account of the Revolution’s current successes. Given the subject matter, Ortega’s study includes a brief comparative analysis of the novel’s rose-colored view of history. If the narratives of proletarian triumph served an ideological end, mainly to foster an “imagined community,” they often did not account for some of the violence and corruption that marked the era of post-war reconstruction. It is through this measured assessment that Ortega praises the foresight of Novels of the Revolution in the tradition of Los de abajo, reminding readers, perhaps unwittingly, why these works have survived in better conditions than most “proletarian narratives.” Moreover, many of these narratives often included texts that originate from outside of the literary domain. By inserting manifestos, decrees, and even presidential discourses by actual historical igures, the heterodox nature of these works often detracts from their legibility. Chapter four, “El comunismo cristiano,” examines the diference between Cristero narratives and the more socially committed proletarian narratives. It includes a detailed analysis of Eduard J. Correas’s La comunista de los ojos cafés. Chapter ive, “La revolución socialista” studies Francisco Sarquís’s Mezclilla (1933), a novel that addresses the common themes of proletarian narratives—the socialist workers’ revolution, the need to unify workers, and to address corrupt leaders—and adds a new element. he protagonist of Mezclilla is a woman and her story is an early efort to describe the experience of women in post-revolutionary Mexico. Ortega is correct in pointing out that these narratives have been overlooked by literary history and his study renders a necessary, though perhaps rough, introductory guide to many novels that are diicult to ind and that have not been edited since they were irst published. heir recovery is commendable. However, Ortega has missed an opportunity to explain precisely why these are important. Despite his able, though at times repetitive, reconstruction of their plots and his efort to contextualize their content within Mexican history, Ortega perhaps overstates their relevance to Mexican literature. As may be inferred from his descriptions, these works were often schematic and lacked narrative quality. hough Ortega praises their efort to be historically authentic, he doesn’t fully elaborate on why their imperfections make them worthy of attention. He simply states that these 376 Sección Bibliográica schematic narratives demonstrate an efort to “decolonize” Mexican literary aesthetics from European inluence (96). However, though the 1930s are considered by some the golden age of Mexican poetry, it is also true that authors like Mariano Azuela—who throughout the 1930s published La luciérnaga (1932), Precursores (1935), and Regina Landa (1939)—were producing some rich narrative works that delved into the struggles of every day life through a crude realist lens. Perhaps a comparative study of these novels and the “proletarian narratives” Ortega examines might have led to a clearer understanding of why the latter have been forgotten. Manuel Gutiérrez Rice University Pavlović, Tatjana. he Mobile Nation: España cambia de piel (1954-1964). Bristol, UK: Intellect, 2011. viii + 221 pp. La muerte de Manuel Fraga Iribarne, acaecida al tiempo de escribir esta reseña, ha supuesto la desaparición física de una de las iguras más emblemáticas de la cultura española de las últimas décadas y uno de los vínculos políticos más directos y notorios entre el régimen de Franco y el actual gobierno del PP. La referencia a Fraga no es gratuita, ya que el libro he Mobile Nation de Tatjana Pavlović, que aquí se reseña, no solamente abarca una etapa de la historia cultural de España marcada en buena medida por la igura del político gallego, sino que éste es objeto de atención explícita en varios de sus capítulos. he Mobile Nation se une así al creciente corpus bibliográico que desde el campo de los estudios culturales, o más propiamente, de la historiografía cultural española contemporánea, se viene ocupando del franquismo intermedio y tardío, y dentro de éste, de la inluencia de Fraga en el turismo, la prensa y los medios de comunicación audiovisual, el cine, la literatura y en general la acción política—un corpus bibliográico que cuenta entre sus aportaciones más signiicativas con varios trabajos de Teresa Vilarós, el volumen La era de Palomares editado por Eduardo Subirats, y los espléndidos Destination: Dictatorship de Justin Crumbaugh y Spain Is (Still) Diferent, editado por Eugenia Ainoguénova y Jaume Martí-Olivella. he Mobile Nation: España cambia de piel (1954-1964) se presenta como una exploración de la cultura del consumo en España durante los diez años indicados en el título; dicho estudio, a su vez, se inserta en otro más general sobre las transformaciones, supuestamente epidérmicas (de ahí el epígrafe), de la cultura española y del régimen franquista en el período citado. El libro consta de introducción y cinco capítulos, dedicados, por este orden, a la literatura y la industria editorial, la televisión, el fenómeno del star system infantil, el turismo, y el acceso masivo al automóvil. Más concretamente, el primer capítulo estudia las transformaciones estilísticas e ideológicas en varias novelas de Juan Goytisolo y la evolución del pensamiento crítico y la política editorial de José María Castellet y Carlos Barral, respectivamente. El segundo capítulo considera la etapa inicial de la televisión española, su impacto en la vida cotidiana del país y su representación en la película Historias de la televisión de José Luis Sáenz de Heredia. El capítulo tercero se concentra en el