I started reading Deep Rivers instead of what we’re supposed to be reading for tomorrow because it’s making me nervous that we have to read two entire books by Friday. So far I am… confused but enjoying myself!
In the first story, The Old Man, Arguedas tells the story of a boy who visits Cuzco for the first time with his father, who is from here. They arrive in Cuzco at night and leave early the next morning. They are visiting so the father can exact some sort of revenge on the Old Man, whom he is related to and previously worked for, but whom he hates.
The Cuzco described by Arguedas is dirty and disappointing, full of shadows and drunkards who urinate in the middle of the street. The tone of the story is dark and foreboding, and after reading it last night, I wasn’t sure what to expect. This morning, as we broke through the clouds and Cuzco came into view, I couldn’t help but think Arguedas was so wrong. Was he though? We’ve only been here for a day and I have yet to stray far beyond the four corners of the Plaza de Armas. Is Arguedas’ representation of Cuzco more “real” than what I have experienced so far? By the end of our stay, and as we get more adventurous, will we glimpse the “reality” that Arguedas described?
In the story, it is implied that the boy’s father has been away from Cuzco for a long time, so the Cuzco in his stories is very different from what the boy is experiencing. The boy mourns a Cuzco that he will never see and in response, the father says, “It’s Cuzco… That’s what it does to the sons of those who have left.” In contrast, the cedrón tree growing in the middle of the courtyard in the “driest, hardest earth” is forced to witness the decay of the city, reflected in the tree’s slow death as its bark is peeled off. The boy claims that despite the destitution around it, the cedrón must be the unhappiest creature of all in that courtyard. The boy says perhaps the colonizers “poisoned the earth of the city with their breath”, and that is why the cedrón is so small and scraggly. The fragrance of the cedrón tree is a source of comfort to the boy, and it pains him to see the tree suffer.
Cedrón is used in Indigenous traditional medicine in the Andes. Cedrón is also the main ingredient of Inca Kola, a drink created by a British immigrant to Peru and now owned by Coca-Cola. Inca Kola is a patriotic symbol for Peruvians and is hence a tool in the state’s nation-building project. The cedrón tree was brought to Europe in the 17th century and has since become a popular ornamental plant, in addition to its popularity as a flavouring agent. Perhaps the physical decay of the cedrón in The Old Man is analogous to this decay of sacredness as the trees and their products become increasingly commodified. What does it mean to be sacred?
I’m going to be looking out for cedrón trees around Cuzco!
6 replies on “Cedrón trees”
Hi Cissy,
I did not know much about the cedrón trees and their influence on Peruvian foods/ culture, so I really appreciate you giving us this detail! When reading Deep Rivers, it will absolutely help to understand the underlying symbolism of the cedrón tree if we understand its actual significance to the region we are in. I’ll be looking for cedrón trees now, too!
Hi Cissy, reading Deep Rivers first because of the stress of having to read two whole books before Friday is very relatable. I was also struck by the negative depiction of Cusco in some parts of the book, but also how Cusco presents a beautiful harmony. I think it was a good idea to read Deep Rivers prior to arriving in Cusco to see whether the author’s depictions are confirmed or denied, but also so we can form our own opinions. I am very excited to explore the rest of the city with you!
Hello my dear friend,
I really enjoyed your insights into the reading, particularly because I’m still psyching myself up to get around to all of them. Your commentary on the vast difference between the father and son’s vision of Cusco growing up got me thinking about our perception. As outsiders coming in I think we are looking for beauty. We are trying to see the magic of the city and have this wonderful experience based on that. Part of that is the tourism industry catering to us but a big part of that is our own wants. Thank you for sharing and making the book less intimidating.
Hey Cissy,
I was also rather confused by the relationship between the Old Man and the boy’s father; perhaps the Old Man was a mestizo that the boy’s father was once employed by? Further, I was very interested in how you focused on the rather negative descriptions of Cusco, which I may have glossed over in favor of the boy’s description of weeping at the sound of the bell tolling. Was this weeping a reaction of the bell’s beauty, or a mournful reaction like you seem to interpret it?
Hi Cissy! I really appreciate your thoughts on the symbolic nature of the cedrón tree in Deep Rivers. I too felt that there were ties between the boy’s connection to the tree and dismissive nature of the others around him- perhaps representing Ernesto’s Indigenous heritage being connected to Cusco in a way the Old Man and his father could not relate to. I really liked your insights on the commodification of cedrón decreasing it’s sanctity. Definitely a good question to ponder on.
Something that seems curious to me, especially now that we have definitively left Cusco, is the contrast between the secret, dark and uninhabitable space of the novel and the resplendent, spectacular and bustling city that we have found in recent days. Of course, what we read in a novel does not have to coincide exactly with what is “Real”. The Cusco invented by Arguedas is a very personal interpretation. What does the novelist know that we (still) cannot see?