Exploring Mexican national identity in Salvador Carrasco's film, la otra conquista
2004; Routledge; Volume: 37; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1080/0890576042000292790
ISSN1743-0666
Autores Tópico(s)Latin American Literature Studies
ResumoClick to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Notes In April 1999 the film was distributed in Mexico by Twentieth Century Fox—the first time a U.S. company had done so with a Mexican film—and in April 2000, it was shown in Southern California. This was the highest grossing Mexican dramatic film released in that country and one of the costliest to make, at $4 million. In February 2005, it will be distributed throughout the United States by Arenas Entertainment. Mestizophile thought, defined by Agustín CitationBasave Benítez in México Mestizo, is “la idea de que el fenómeno del mestizaje—es decir, la mezcla de razas y/o culturas—es un hecho deseable” (13). He also notes that in his mestizophile writings, Andrés Molina Enríquez—Mexico's greatest champion of mestizaje—says that Mexican mestizos “son los mexicanos por antonomasia, los auténticos depositarios de la mexicanidad” (13). Worth noting among numerous artistic works that rewrite the era of conquest, are the following: Eugenio Aguirre's Gonzalo Guerrero: Novela histórica (1980), Homero Aridjis's Espectáculo del año dos mil (1981), 1492: Vida y tiempos de Juan Cabezón de Castilla (1985), Memorias del Nuevo Mundo (Citation1988), Gran teatro del fin del mundo (1989), Carmen Boullosa's Llanto: Novelas imposibles (1992), Duerme (1994), Carlos Fuentes's El naranjo, o los círculos del tiempo (Citation1993), Vicente Leñero's La noche de Hernán Cortés (1994) and Victor Hugo Rascón Banda's La Malinche (Citation2000). I am mindful that the words mestizo and mestizaje carry with them burdensome sexual baggage. As CitationSilvia Spitta writes, “for Latin America, mestizaje, or miscegenation, often used synonymously with transculturation and/or translation, carries precisely those sexual connotations absent in the latter terms and yet crucial to explain the dynamics of cultural and sexual ‘encounters’” (28). Guillermo CitationBonfil Batalla agrees, arguing that using the term mestizaje, “is an inappropriate way to understand non-biological processes, such as those that occur in the cultures of different groups in contact, within the context of cultural domination” (17). However, I continue to use them here to refer to cultural processes because the artist does so himself. In this seminal text on Mexican national identity, Paz draws parallels between Cortés and la Malinche and the concepts of the chingón and chingada. (An extremely strong term in Mexico, chingar is commonly used for “to fuck or screw” and hijo de la chingada for “son of a bitch” and “motherfucker.”) In El laberinto, Paz explains how the rapist, or chingón, leaves the victim wounded and used, literally chingada. Paz then contends that, beginning with the conquest and with Cortés's taking his translator, Malintzin, as a lover, Mexicans are all hijos de la chingada. It is important to note that syncretism is commonly defined as a reconciliation or fusion of beliefs (American 1376), whereas mestizaje simply connotes the mixing of two races. Therefore, the very definition of syncretism carries with it a value judgement that excises conflict whereas mestizaje does not. Here, Carrasco conflates the concepts of mestizaje and syncretism, leveling them in the field of cultural mixing. I have noted the downside of this terminological confusion, yet the two continue to be used interchangeably. This quote also demonstrates the pliant nature of Mexico's mestizo identity. By stressing the violent conquest of native Mexicans by invading Spaniards, it can foment nationalistic sentiment and distrust of foreigners, as it did in the decades following the Revolution. Or, by depicting mestizaje and its spiritual component, syncretism, as harmonious and balanced processes, Mexico can claim to have integrated its indigenous population when it is evident it has not—a topic treated in greater detail ahead. The act of strangling Tecuichpo in the film calls to mind the scandal involving Hernán Cortés when he allegedly strangled his first wife, Catalina Xuárez Marcaida, in 1522, soon after she arrived in Mexico and joined him in Coyoacán (CitationMartínez 404–406). He was then able to marry Juana de Zuñiga, daughter of the Conde de Aguilar, thus inserting himself into Spanish nobility. As CitationHugh Thomas comments in the genealogy entitled “La entrada de Cortés en la nobleza”: “Esta genealogía sugiere que, si bien Cortés era hijo de un hidalgo pobre, era rico en relaciones familiares” (686). Carrasco refers to a quote by Octavio Paz which appears in the introduction to CitationJacques Lafaye's groundbreaking work, Quetzalcóatl and Guadalupe: The Formation of Mexican National Consciousness 1531–1815 where he writes, “Tonantzin/Guadalupe fue la respuesta de la imaginación a la situación de orfandad en que dejó a los indios la conquista.” (22). Carrasco's omission of the word imagination could be attributed to a lapse in memory during an interview, but it also serves to underline the blurring of lines between cultural constructions and the reality they constitute for believers. Although Paz posits the Virgin of Guadalupe as a savior, first and foremost, to the indigenous, many foreign scholars’ work demonstrates that the Virgin of Guadalupe and her apparition legends were primarily Creole constructions in the early days of evangelization (late 1500's and early 1600's). Carraso has written that Topiltzin's death at the end of the film is a “Christlike self-sacrifice, which makes him transcend his enemies and become a symbolic figure” (“Invisible” 176). However, as I show ahead, these nuances of Christian redemption are ultimately lost on the audience. Carrasco's interpretation of Topiltzin's actions, however, is reflected in a June 14, Citation1995 version of the script. Topiltzin delivers such lines as, “… todo el mal del mundo está contenido dentro del icono de la Gran Señora de piel blanca. Es necesario apoderarse de ella … ¿Por qué he de ser yo—quién lo decidió—el que la oculte en mi pecho para absorber su penosa alma y que pierda sus poderes?” (109) and “Venceré o seré derrotado para siempre … Moriré con ella y por ella. Nadie antes de mí se había atrevido a arrancar el mal de un solo impulso, desde la raíz. ¿Pero, hay lugar para ambos? No, sólo la muerte” (110). Carrasco says that, as a director, he realized he could express this message cinematograpically through Topiltzin's actions in twenty minutes of dialogue-free scenes. Cinematographically, I agree that he chose the most effective device. Unfortunately for the film's message, I believe, these monologues were not part of the final product. Script cited with verbal permission from the director.
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