Manlio Argueta

This is a beautiful, compelling, poetic, horrific book about village life in El Salvador during the worst days of the Death Squads. The book was written in 1980, during the height of the troubles. Told in deceptively lovely language (Argueta was a well known poet before he turned his hand to novels), and through the eyes of several characters, One Day of Life brings us right inside the terror, hope and determination found within a single peasant household. The characters are at the complete show more mercy of the "Authorities" and their purposeful brutality, yet we see through their eyes a nascent awareness that organizing and fighting for their rights is worth the danger, if only for their childrens' sakes. As the story unfolds, the danger and violence of become so bad that the men of the village are forced to leave their homes and sleep up in the hills rather than risk being dragged away in the night.

As an American, I can recall hearing the stories during the 70s and 80s of these death squads. It's easy to forget, but this book puts a reader right in the middle of that horror, but in a way that emphasizes the humanity of the situation.

Argueta was a well known author when this novel, his third, was published in 1980. The El Salvadorean authorities ordered the confiscation of all copies and forbade the printing of any further editions. Argueta was forced into a 10-year exile in Costa Rica. He is now back in El Salvador where he serves as the Director of Art and Culture at the national university, the University of El Salvador, in San Salvador.

I found this book at random in a used bookstore, having never heard of it or of Argueta. It's amazing how a random pickup like this can, in 215 beautiful pages, open up a whole world of historical knowledge for a heretofore ignorant reader. show less

In this at times poetic, at times harrowing novel, Argueta traces the life of Lupe, a grandmother apparently in her 40s, over the course of one day that turns out to be an eventful one. A Salvadoran peasant, her day begins at 5:30 AM when she hears a particular bird and sees a big star reach the hole in the thatch roof of her home. Lupe's story, which is told in chapters titled by the time of day, is mixed with chapters told by other characters, including her 15-year-old granddaughter show more Adolfina who has become involved in farmer protests int he capital, a local boy who has joined the police and become trained for "special" services, and others. It develops over the course of the day and the novel that Lupe's husband and other men, partly under the influence of younger priests who have taken something of an activist role, have joined a Christian farmworkers organization which has, needless to say, aroused the ire of the large landowners as well as the government which is (although unsaid) supported by the US as part of the global cold war against communism (this novel presumably takes place in the 70s). Several of the men have taken to the hills, Lupe's son has been gruesomely killed, and when the police come calling no good can result. Reference is also made to the events of 1932, when a peasant uprising against a US-supported government was brutally suppressed in what became known as "the massacre."

The strength of this novel lies in Lupe's connection to the natural world and in its depiction of the horrors of this particular time and place. It's weakness lies in its expression of the politics of the situation and in some of the characters' reflections on their personal and political growth -- both tend towards the didactic and can be repetitive. In addition, I noticed a few instances where Lupe used words that no peasant who barely reached first grade would use -- "predilection," for example -- and I found these jarring.

All that said, I found much of this novel compelling, and I appreciated Argueta telling it largely from a woman's point of view (indeed, several women, if you include Adolfina's sections). It also reminded me of historical events, as part of Adolfina's story involves the occupation of the cathedral, and Archbishop Romero plays a role helping the protestors -- as those of us who are old enough remember, he was later assassinated while celebrating mass. El Salvador is once again in the news, along with other Central American countries, with its children fleeing to the US to escape violence, and it is difficult not to see that the issues confronted in this novel have repercussions today. show less

Twenty-four Central America short stories collected here by editor Rasario Santos, each story more marvelous than the next. From the introduction: "In Central America the story is performing its primordial function of mediating history, interpreting a brutal and brutalizing reality, and keeping hope and dignity alive as it has for centuries on this frail bridge between worlds." Here are my brief comments on six unforgettable tales:

AND WE SOLD THE RAIN by Carmen Naranjo (1928-2012, Costa show more Rica)
Carmen Naranjo’s story takes the form of a black humor bug so black, so caustic, the bug chews its way through the entire guava fruit and comes out the other side as a ball of laugh-out-loud hilarity. What a story! Set in a Central American country so poor it doesn’t even have a name. But, for certain, this unnamed country has debt, a ton of debt, the president and all government officials are up to their soaking wet eyeballs in debt. Make no mistake, not only higher-ups sopping wet but the country’s entire population of poor people are waterlogged, drooping wet sombreros, fungus-filled toes, an entire country of people so wringing wet they are now the green people, living their shiny wet green lives in a country where it rains day and night, nonstop, seven days a week.

Just how poor are these poor people? They live on radish tops, bananas and garbage; the Public Welfare Agency rations rice and beans as if medicine; they dodge bullets from drug lords who operate uncontrolled. Meanwhile, the president asks, ““Doesn’t anyone in this whole goddamned country have an idea that could get us out of this?” The poor citizens tell him that he and his cabinet should prey to the virgin. In desperation they try, but the virgin has gone deaf and ignores their pleas for help despite the fact the whole government cabinet implores her at the top of their lungs.

One brilliant ideas came from someone in the government: levy a tax on air – ten colones per breath. Another suggestion: a contest “Miss Underdevelopment” to be chosen from the multitudes of skinny, dusky, round-shouldered, short-legged, half-bald girls with cavity-pocked smiles and suffering from parasites. “If we could only export the rain,” bemoaned one minister. A great aha moment! An aqueduct is built by French technicians, those guardians of European meritocracy, running to an oil-rich Middle Eastern nation. Sounds like the perfect solution but does anything ever really go right for such a poor country?



THE PROOF by Rodrigo Rey Rosa (Born 1958, Guatemala)
One night, all alone in his house, young teenager Miguel opens the birdcage and grabs the canary in his fist, staring at the little bird with his eager eyes as if seeking an omen. Feeling the canary’s small body and feather in the clutch of his fingers, he decides to go down to the cellar. We read: “He crouched in a corner under the high vaulted ceiling, as Indians and savages do, face down, his arms wrapped around his legs, and with the canary in his fist between his knees. Raising his eyes into the darkness, which at that moment looked red, he said in a low voice: “If you exist, God, bring this bird back to life.” As he spoke, he tightened his fist little by little, until his fingers felt the snapping of the fragile bones and an unaccustomed stillness in the little body.”

What happens after his parents return home and after Miguel experiences a night of insomnia that’s a kind of nightmare? What happens when the maid who cares for the canary arrives the next morning and then secretly decides to buy a new canary? And lastly, what happens after that, when his father finds feathers in the cellar? Sentence by sentence, Rodrigo Rey Rosa’s very short story builds in drama, layer by layer, image by image, and takes on qualities of myth, legend, fable and allegory. As you read this tale you will feel a tangible, urgent tug to enter ever more deeply into the spirit of Central American storytelling.



CONFINEMENT by Horacio Castellanos Moya (Born 1957, El Salvador)
Horacio Castellanos Moya is the author of over a dozen novels and short stories, one novel about a sex-obsessed boozehound writer employed by the Catholic Church he despises to clean up the written testimonies of survivors from the massacre and torture of thousands of indigenous villagers a decade earlier; another novel written as a furious one paragraph rant on the injustices committed against the people of El Salvador, a novel that earned the author death threats. In this short story Horacio Castellanos Moya lets us listen in on what goes through the mind of an El Salvador guerrilla in hiding, confined to a room in a home of a family sympathetic to his cause:

After three days, he feels a tightness in his chest as if facing the same four walls is a bad omen. He wishes he had a good book, knows he’s been on too many marches, wonders what his fellow guerrilla girlfriend is doing right now since his heart is all desire, like a mound of earth full of unsprouted seeds. Sure he writes poetry but tears up what he’s written. He really needs to find some peace and calm, frustrated that now when he has all the time in the world to examine his memories and emotions in depth, everything seems tedious.

He feels trapped in this hot room; he’d like to have a drink. If he could live his life over again, he’d live exactly as his instincts dictate; after all, he joined the revolution out of instinct, like a tiger sniffing out its prey. He thinks of the practice of confining a guerrilla is like the days Jonah spent in the belly of a whale. And when he gets out? He’d be happy, ready to dive back into the city, a good thing, like being born again.



THE PERFECT GAME by Sergio Ramírez (Born 1942, Nicaragua)
We sit in the stands with a father who has arrived at the stadium late (damn car broke down) to watch his eighteen-old-son’s professional baseball team, San Fernanco. Would the team use his son as a relief pitcher for the first time, ever? The father takes his seat high up in the cheep seats as he usually does, right behind home plate. He first looks up at the scoreboard – it’s the top of the 5th inning and both teams have failed not only score a run but both teams have failed to get a hit. He then looks over at the bullpen to catch a glimpse of his son. He doesn’t see him. What has happened? He looks down at the field and sees exactly what happened – his son is taking the mound. This is the very first time his son is pitching on the professional level. And he is the starting pitcher! Of all nights to have a breakdown on the highway! And not only is his son pitching but, glory of glories, so far he is pitching a perfect game!

So begins this heartwarming story of a father’s love for his baseball playing teenage son. And Sergio Ramírez has us right there in the stands living through each pitch as his son moves closer to pitching a perfect game and making history for himself, his team, his home town and for Nicaragua. Anybody who follows major league baseball knows how many baseball players are from Central America and perhaps is aware of the struggles these players endured beginning as kids out on a dirt lot next to a shanty town. And, of course, baseball in Sergio’s tale can be taken as a metaphor for life.



STORY OF THE MAESTRO WHO SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE COMPOSING A PIECE FOR THE MARIMBA by Mario Payeras (1940-1995, Guatemala)
Half fable, half magic, this tale of how Patrocinio Raxtun went into the jungle and dedicated his entire life to building and playing the instrument he loved with all the rhythms and marimba energy he could feel in the animals and plants, earth and sky, days and nights along with his bones and his blood. When he finally began to play “what he attempted to capture had to do with the wild tails of spinning kites that trace the Great Bear in the immense night sky of the altiplano, with the sadness of the iron cocks on rusting weather vanes, with the invisible pathways of the birds.”



A MARCH GUAYACAN by Bertalicia Peralta (Born 1940, Panamá)
Hot steamy passion, anyone? One quote will say it all: “Calmly she went into the kitchen. She picked up a knife and gripped it firmly by the handle. She thrust it into the heart of the man more than once. The blood ran in torrents, first steaming, then more slowly until it stopped. A lot of blood. It smelled. She made sure he was dead. She thrust the knife three more times into the body.” show less

A fantastic piece of writing covering four generations of a peasant family and their lives during fifty years of military dictatorship and violent oppression. El Salvador was (for me) one of the forgotten conflicts of the 20th Century, and one which I knew little about. Argueta, gives the victims a human face, and reminds the world of the horrors of a seemingly unending civil war.
The narrative jumps around in time, with brief chapters examining the lives of single characters. The jumpiness show more is a touch overdone in places, with chapters punctuated by flashbacks that disrupt the overall rythm. However, this is a minor gripe. The family history is beautifully and tragically told, and Argueta builds up a picture of the repetitivenss of poverty through generations who are just trying their best to get by. He gives the oppressed natives a voice (Cuzcatlan is the aboriginal name for El Salvador) and a life beyond the forgotten victims or cannon fodder for the military government. It is touching and informative, and a recommended piece of writing. show less