You know those books where the writer throws logic out the window and invites the reader to live in the character’s inner world. Deep Rivers is one of those. It feels as if Ernesto’s inner dialogue is being read aloud to us. A mix of memories, emotions, and observations with a touch of melancholy.
Arguedas invites the reader to experience emotionally rather than logically. None of the emotions, like sadness, fear, or wonder, is explained but rather made to feel and get immersed in. It creates a sense of heaviness and quiet intensity, even when nothing ‘dramatic’ is happening. We feel Ernesto’s unsettledness, confusion, and loneliness through his perceptions alone. Each little part that possibly stood out as ordinary objects and environments was given so much significance. From stones to walls to rivers, they weren’t just physical elements as we know them to be, but symbolic ones, ones that had meaning.
This consistent feeling of displacement is present throughout the novel. We feel unsettled as Ernesto does, not comfortable anywhere, reflecting the identity struggle and belonging Ernesto experienced. While this displacement is present, some moments reflect a breath of fresh air (the glimpses of nature), which slows the pace and heaviness. However, even during these calm moments, there is uneasiness and underlying tension that conveys suffering never truly goes away but is always present under the surface.
On that note, this sense of identity struggle Ernesto felt was something very relatable. Through Ernesto, it is technically argued that living between cultures is hard but very human. Quite honestly, this makes some of us readers who are torn between cultures feel validated. This sense of feeling like an ‘outsider’ is rather comforting than isolating. Further, his intense reactions to injustice portray how having awareness can be painful, especially in a society filled with inequality, and as an ‘outsider’ we have definitely heard of, if not experienced, this exactly.
What I found unique was that Deep Rivers does not really offer a solution, clarity, or closure. It actually asked us as readers to witness injustice, sit with that discomfort, and feel the emotions deeply. It seemed as if Arguedas also wanted to emphasize that understanding cultural divisions is only possible through feeling them rather than explaining them. All in all, it suggests how deeply one’s identity is rooted in cultures, languages, and the environments we grow up in.
The question I want to discuss, or perhaps I wonder more about, is: Did you ever find yourself feeling confused or disoriented while reading this? If so, how does that confusion reflect Ernesto’s emotional state?