Out of all three of the works we have seen and read on the Mexican Revolution, Cartucho is definitely the one that struck me the most. In a sense, Nellie Campobello’s novel / collection of short stories could be described as the diametric opposite of Kazan and Steinbeck’s Viva Zapata!. Campobello never makes any attempt of characterising or judging the revolution any further than the reactions of herself as a child, and her fragmented narrative doesn’t explicitly make any overarching point. Her writing style and attention to detail also bring across more authenticity than Marlon Brando`s improbably heroic and righteous version of Emiliano Zapata ever could.
This authenticity seems to come from the fact that Campobello is attempting to replicate the style of the various true stories she heard as a child. Cartucho’s dedication, which reads “To Mama, who gave me the gift of true stories” (p.4) seems to confirm this, and Rafaela Luna’s stories feature prominently in the novel, alongside her daughter’s own memories. This search for truth in storytelling can be seen in the amount of detail Campobello gives each of her vignettes, especially when it comes to violence and gore. In fact these are what appear to have struck her the most as a child witnessing the Revolution unfold in front of her house. Her descriptions in particular bring out her fascination for the violent deaths she witnessed by frequently veering into the lyrical, such as with Pablo Mares: “All the blood running in bubbling red threads over the rock begged forgiveness for not having sired strong children” (p.76).
However, it is just as easy to contest the fact that her account – even of her own perspective – can aspire to depicting some kind of truth. While her writing gives a very tangible and vivid edge to the events and impressions she describes, she is nonetheless recounting them at least ten years after she saw and felt them. As such, it is impossible to consider that the voice the author gives herself as a child isn’t at least somewhat fabricated, and according to the translator’s notes Campobello herself confirmed this. So, despite it being a genuine autobiographical work, unlike Azuela’s The Underdogs, it is nonetheless burdened by a certain, and probably inevitable distance from its subject matter.
While Campobello does use style and her potentially fallible memory to bring these snapshots of the Revolution to life, I don’t think these detract from the value of Cartucho as a piece of revolutionary literature. On the contrary, by writing in a lyrical style and using her own impressions, the author brings us emotionally closer to the revolution and its various actors than any factual account ever could. All the while, her commitment to describing real events and people separates it from The Underdogs, whose fictional characters can be more easily accused of being unrealistic stereotypes. Perhaps most importantly, these tales are essentially a continuation of the “true stories” Campobello – and probably many others – grew up with during the Mexican Revolution, and in that sense Cartucho is a truly authentic account.
thanks for bringing the dedication to my attention, it’s definitely relevant and ties into the idea that the one person who features in nearly all the stories is the mother character, which posits her as highly important even if that is rarely if ever explicitly stated.
Much like Aja said about the importance of the mother figure, although not a revolutionary she contributes almost as much to the revolution as Villa would have. In sharing these stories about everyday people and their struggles through the revolution she adds a human aspect to it.