Rigoberta Menchú’s book, I, Rigoberta Menchú: An Indian Woman in Guatemala, was a powerful account of the struggles and oppression faced by the indigenous people in Guatemala. It was a striking read, one that brought up a strong exchange of emotions.

One of the most striking aspects of Menchú’s story was the sheer brutality and violence that she and her community were subjected to. The indigenous people in Guatemala were treated brutally, their rights systematically violated. Menchú’s description of how she and her community were forced to work in virtual slavery on the large estates owned by the ladinos, and how they were denied access to basic resources like education and healthcare, was extremely painful to read. While the Menchú’s sufferings were painful to read, the strength and hope she and her community held onto was inspiring. The quote that resonated with me was “They’re dead but our people keep their memory alive through our struggle against the government, against an enemy who oppresses us. We don’t need very much advice, or theories, or documents: life has been our teacher” (181).

While reading the book, I constantly found parallels between Menchú’s experiences and those of other marginalized groups around the world: the indigenous peoples of Canada and the Jewish victims during the Holocaust (as I am currently studying the Holocaust in a different course). Despite the extreme violence and repressions they faced, the indigenous people in Guatemala fought back against their oppressors; Menchú herself became involved in the movement for indigenous rights and worked tirelessly to promote awareness and advocacy for her community. Similarly, the indigenous people in Canada have been fighting for their rights and the recognition of their sovereignty for decades, and the Jewish community has worked to ensure that the atrocities of the Holocaust are never forgotten.

Lastly, thinking more broadly about the genre of this book, I questioned the credibility of biographical works in general. There is no doubt that biographical works—and the individual-level of history—are crucial aspects to better understand a historical event. However, biographical works do have their limitations; they are mostly based off one’s memories, which can easily be distorted. Additionally, biographical works are usually told by one specific perspective; it undoubtedly contains personal bias, sometimes explicit, other times not.

Dwelling on this thought, my question for this week is:

How “credible” did you think Menchú’s book is, in terms of objective credibility? Not in terms of historical accuracy, per se, but more on how credible the book felt to ‘you’. Were there any parts of the book that seemed to indicate bias? Should we even care about objective credibility when engaging in biographical works such as this?