I enjoyed Cartucho more than I enjoyed The Underdogs. Mostly I think this is due to the style/format of Cartucho, which I thought to be quite refreshing. I think that many small anecdotes from a childhood perspective are a valuable asset to understand the Mexican Revolution through different terms. By seeing the action of the revolution through the eyes of a child, who does not sympathize with a side of the conflict, gives a neutral and rather innocent angle to the work. Since Cartucho is full of small anecdotes, I’d describe the book as being a “micro-history” or “intimate-history” work. By presenting many small instances of the revolution we get to see the bigger picture in a way we would not be able to see through a scholarly book or article. As a result of these small anecdotes, violence and death evidently becomes the main component of the book. It is quite startling to think that this little girl witnessed so much violence and death right at her doorstep in her everyday life. However, for many people who grew up during this time, this is exactly how the revolution played out in their eyes. The book is filled with stories of death, and there is a clear reason why. In The Two Pablos Campobello writes, “I think Pablo Mares stopped spraying bullets from his rifle, and his strong body-the gift he gave to the revolution-gradually keeled over his left side” (pg. 76). I think this sentence is highly important to understanding the book and it also touches upon a lot of what we have discussed in class. Pablo Mares gives his life for the revolution, as do all the people who die in Campobello’s short anecdotes. This made me think of the metaphor of the revolution as being like a hurricane, the revolution as being like an addiction, as well as the scene where Demetrio throws a stone into a lake that symbolized his own personal experience with the revolution. All these treat the revolution as a powerful and sweeping entity in which you have to commit, more often than not, with your own life. Dawson said that if you want to be part of a revolution you shouldn’t be one of the leaders because you are certain to die, however, as we see with Cartucho, whatever part you take in a revolution no matter how small, you always have the possibility that you will pay with your life.

Death, death, death. It’s almost a miracle if one of the vignettes doesn’t have someone die in it. Told from the perspective of a child, these fragmented bits of story shed a different light on the revolution. It is quite horrible for anyone to have to experience so much brutality, let alone a child. Her perspective on death is something that I will probably never understand. It’s hard to determine how she actually views the deaths. In one way, it seems like she finds it exciting. “Guts! How nice!” she exclaims at one point, and does not give it much more though after that. Gore hardly seems to affect her in any way that one might expect. Could it be that it is so horrible beyond her comprehension that she can find it so amusing? Or is it that murder, death, and gore alike were so commonplace in her day-to-day life that she had grown accustomed to it? Another of her unusual reactions was when a man died outside of her window and she was so fascinated by his body that she claimed it as hers. When the body was removed, she felt like someone had stolen it from her, and hoped that someone else would die close to her house. One part I found interesting was when her friends Zafiro and Zequiel were killed, she broke the syringe that she used to squirt water at them. This was the most emotion that she exhibits.

Throughout the book it is apparent that the narrator and her mother are in favour of Pancho Villa, creating his image to be very powerful and mighty. However, there is at least one vignette where we see that not all that are on Villa’s side are good. General Fierro orders his driver to be shot because his head hit the roof of the car due to some obstructions on the road. Before the man was dead, they also cut off fingers to steal rings and stripped him bare of his clothes. A lot of the men had little respect for the dead.

Another oddity is her personification of her doll, Pitaflorida. She talks about Jose Diaz, a handsome man who stole the hearts of many women. She decides that Pitaflorida will be married to Diaz. But just like Nellie/the narrator, Pitaflorida only exhibits a small amount of emotion, so there is some comparison to be drawn here.

I kind of wonder what the idea was of putting all of these events out of chronological order. One moment you are introduced by a character and their death, and then several pages later it is another part of their lives.

Cartucho, like The Underdogs, encompasses many voices, but is a decidedly different text in many ways. There are two main aspects of the story I found especially powerful.

The first is its complicated portrayal of death (often times many deaths, and violent ones at that) from the perspective of a child. It is not even that the deaths never come across as completely negative but that they become, to some degree, anticipated and exciting. In a section entitled “Through The Window,” the young protagonist describes watching a murder outside her window that leaves a body with “blood pouring out of him through many holes.” She goes on to say, “I became accustom to seeing the scrawl of his body […] The dead man seemed mine […] He was my obsession.” And later, after he is removed she remarks, “That night I went to sleep dreaming that they would shoot someone else and that it would be next to my house.” Throughout the text her mother becomes more and more distressed. At different times she cries, has her daughter visit graves and prays. She is clearly quite affected by the fighting and we know that her daughter must be, to some degree, aware of this since she is the one recounting the events. Despite her mother’s visible pain she remains enthralled by death. I have not yet decided what I think the author intended by writing her reactions this way. I am torn between thinking that her perspective is such precisely because she is a child and cannot understand the severity of what she is surrounded by and giving her much more credit and reading her curiosity as a coping mechanism.

The second thing I found particularly interesting is the way in which safety and masculinity are conflated in this novel. Azuelo certainly implied this but Campobello makes it very evident. We are told the story of the protagonist who looks on as eleven men come into her home and insult her mother. The leader, a man with a blonde mustache, goes onto become famous and well-liked. In exploring her anger towards this man she says, “Two years later […] I saw him […] That day, everything was ruined for me. I couldn’t study. I spent it thinking about being a man, having my own pistol and firing a hundred shots into him.” It does not suffice, even in her own head, to simply imagine herself as soldier. She must first imagine herself as a man so that the idea of becoming a soldier and carrying a weapon seems plausible. In this way defense, of the state or of the self, is relegated to a sphere only men may inhabit.  What is worth noting is that the character who tells us this is a child so we can easily see how pervasive (and damaging) these gendered narratives can be.

This weeks reading was a novel by Mariano Azuelo published in 1915. The novel tells the story of Demetrio Macías and his humble beginnings as a peaceful farmer, who transforms into a revolutionary general. What must be noted of course is the band of rebels that Macías leads are not in fact ideal revolutionaries. As the book progresses we see that the rebels begin looting and pillaging the villages that they begin to “liberate”. I find it difficult even considering Macías as a revolutionary for this very reason.

Throughout the novel I found myself thinking similar things as Viva Zapata! I had mentioned in class that I thought the Mexican revolution a failure because it never overthrew the bourgeoisie, but rater replaced one rich, corrupt president with another. The failure of the Mexican revolution lies within the fact that agrarian reform is not enough of a platform to transform society. Agrarian reform is a difficult subject for many Marxists, because it can be enacted in a variety of different situations and for different reasons. If we look to the Cuban revolution, we can see that agrarian reform worked in many aspects, notably that large landowners had their land expropriated so as to be distributed back to the peasant population. However, it must also be noted that the Cuban revolution aimed to transform society as a whole, implementing various institutions and nationalizing industry. It is this combination of centralizing the means of production in the hands of the proletariat, which allows a revolution to succeed.

Vladimir Lenin once said “Everything but power is an illusion”, and this basic fact is essential to the revolution. The Mexican revolution is a prime example of how this statement is true. In the novel Underdogs the common theme expresses how at first the revolution is pure, but as time goes on its leaders betray the revolution. The fatal flaw of this revolution is that the Mexican people were coerced into believing that once the revolutionary army overthrew the previous government, all it would take to achieve a lasting political change was a new president and governing body. The revolution is so much more than this however. Linking back to the quote from Lenin, power is what drives change, and this change can only be brought about if those in power are overthrow by those with the means to take power. Ever since the introduction of capitalism, only the proletariat has the ability to take power from the bourgeoisie. Limiting a revolution to a simple change in government is doomed for failure! Without removing the underlying issues of the revolution, in this case the idea of property and land reform we cannot expect to see a successful revolution. It is capitalism itself that must be the enemy of the revolution, and this enemy should always be the focus of the revolution. Without explicitly removing capitalism, a permanent revolution is not possible as exemplified in the Mexican revolution.

This week we were asked to read The Underdogs by Mariano Azuela. The book is a diary-like account of a small group of Mexican revolutionaries fighting on the northern front. As I was reading the book, the Luis Cervantes character made me think a lot about perspective in a revolution.

Luis Cervantes (loosely based on the author himself)  is a medical-student-deserter from the federal army that joins Demetrio and his band of rebels. Cervantes is often the voice of moral reason after the author describes seemingly thoughtless looting by the bandits, often is ignored after trying to give political context to the struggle and seems to have a power over everyone else that stems from his intelligence. Now considering that the character is based on the author it is a very glowing and honorable picture that he paints of his role in that world. However, it really made me think of the author’s perspective as I read the book and how it seems to shape not just his memory of himself but of all that happens around him. For Example, the level of violence he saw during his time with the revolutionaries clearly shocked Azuela and the theme of desperation and senseless brutality is a constant in the book. I do not doubt that there was extreme violence but I imagine it was especially shocking to a medical student from the city. I think that context is important and the rebel’s actions may not seem as ruthless or as sudden if one considers the environment from which they rose to take up arms.

Another theme that I was thinking about as I read the book was hierarchy within a movement for equality.   Demetrio and his men have no real voice within the politics of the revolution and are used as muscle by the generals in charge. Despite successes as a group they never seem gain any real voice and the source of their oppression is just replaced with different head. It seems like this is almost inevitable when in a movement, the voices of los de abajo are not considered and a few of those in charge reap the benefits and eventual position of power that results from the resistance. In this kind of struggle, power is gained with violence/money and is destined to replicate the injustice it seeks to tear down. It seems that any movement for change must model the kind of world it wants to create.

After reading the first few chapters of Mariano Azuela’s The Underdogs I began to suspect that the novel would follow the same broad narrative path as Viva Zapata!, with Marlon Brando’s portrayal of the hero of the Revolution replaced by the fictional but no less charismatic Demetrio Macias. From the offset he is shown to have quite the reputation, scaring away to Federal soldiers by his mere presence, and only sparing them because “Their hour hasn’t struck yet”. Demetrio also has a stoic disposition, as well as an apparent talent for leadership, painting him as a perfect icon for the Revolution.

However, the rest of the novel puts him under much less of a positive light. This shift begins with the question of his motivations, which – unlike Kazan and Steinbeck’s version of Zapata – do not concern the retribution of lands to their rightful owners. Rather, he seeks vengeance against a local figure of authority whose beard he spat on, and who retaliated by sending Federal soldiers to burn Demetrio’s house down. The men who follow him do not fight for any nobler goals, and most of them seem to have joined Demetrio because they were on the run from the law. Even Luis Cervantes, who shows a strong sense of moral righteousness in the way he embraces revolutionary ideology, only joined the movement after his perceived mistreatment in the ranks of the Federal army. He even attempts to justify Demetrio’s own involvement through ideology, telling him that they are “fighting tyranny itself”.

However, Demetrio shows little interest in achieving any sort of grand socio-political result. He even seems uninterested when Cervantes suggests he should join with other revolutionary forces, and only changes his mind at the prospect of obtaining a high military rank. Cervantes himself, although initially trying to stick by his ideals, eventually gives in to the attraction of material gains, and joins the other men in looting. The only character to display any form of moral integrity is Camilla, whose kindness and naiveté strikes a stark contrast with Demetrio and his followers, and her death at the hands of War Paint only serves to emphasise the weakness of morality in the face of violence. All of this serves to make the point that while idealism may have been present, the fighters in the Mexican Revolution was to a large extent motivated by a combination of circumstance and desire for material wealth. While it is still possible to sympathise with such characters, it also makes it difficult to perceive them as heroes. In fact, were it not for the fact that they are fighting in a revolution, we would probably see them as no more than simple bandits.

In fact, the revolution helps vindicate their deeds, and allows them to gain wealth and glory through violence in ways that would be impossible in peaceful times, where they would be destitute outlaws. The Revolution is all they have left.