The Underdogs Read online

  Furthermore, the novel not only has a title that refers to the economic and social condition of its main characters, it also develops a vertical (up/down) metaphor throughout the text that repeatedly plays off of the title. The reader sees this in a number of scenes in which different characters are literally above or below each other—a physical representation meant to reflect or contrast with their economic and social standing. Therefore, I have made every effort, through several details in the translation itself, to re-create the key moments in which the vertical metaphor is operating as a defining subtext of the novel. Similarly, I have sought some new ways, again through specific details of the translation, to make “the underdogs” function as an appropriate title in English.

  After the title, the largest challenge the translator faces is that the majority of the novel is written in dialogue, as Azuela has his characters use a variety of regional and colloquial expressions and idioms, and speak in idiosyncratic accents, all of which reflect their different economic and social classes—in addition to their individual personalities. It is crucial that the translator try to re-create at least some of this orality, as it constitutes a defining element of the style. Thus, the manner in which the characters speak is also meant to give the reader a sense of Azuela’s characters themselves, and more broadly of the kinds of participants in the Mexican Revolution. In particular, the peasants and the poor in The Underdogs are marginal, characters who have not traditionally had a voice—not in history, not in politics, not in literature. The author’s careful use of dialogue reflects his intention of having different characters speak for themselves and having the reader hear a variety of voices, some perhaps for the first time. This intention, this oral element of the novel must somehow be re-created by the translator. As the reader will see, I have sought to re-imagine and re-create in English the voices of Azuela’s characters, who speak in a very specific kind of Mexican Spanish.

  A related challenge for the translator is that most of the characters in the novel are referred to by some sort of nickname, while very few are addressed by their given names. These nicknames—sometimes monikers, other times epithets— often provide the reader a mental image of the characters, of their looks, their personalities, and of how they are seen by those around them. For this reason I have opted, wherever possible within the flow of my version, to render the majority of these nicknames into English. Although translators are usually advised to avoid translating proper names, I believe my decision will give English-speaking readers a more immediate sense of the importance of these nicknames in context. For those interested, each time a nickname first appears in the text, an endnote informs the reader what that nickname was in Spanish. Finally, one nickname simply does not translate well: that of the curro Luis Cervantes. In this case, not only is there no direct English equivalent available, but I actually deemed it important to maintain the term curro—a derogatory label applied to someone from the upper classes precisely because this individual thinks too highly of himself and looks down with contempt at poor, rural, mestizo, and/or indigenous Mexicans. In addition, as the reader will see, the meaning and the various connotations of curro begin to emerge from the text itself, whether one reads the novel in Spanish or in English.

  Along these lines, another issue the translator faces is the extent to which certain words should be left in Spanish, perhaps to gain a foreign flavor. In this regard, I have chosen to leave relatively few words in Spanish—and have always provided the definition and my reasoning in the endnote accompanying each such word. On the other hand, I have opted to leave untranslated some words that come from the Spanish but have already been incorporated into English (e.g., “rancho, ” “señor,” “muchacho”). In these cases, I use these specific terms not only because they allow the reader to get a bit closer to the original text, but also because these words are somehow more descriptive, and at times more accurate, than their English equivalents. A good example of this is the word sombrero. A sombrero in Spanish is a hat, but within the context of the Mexican Revolution, and of the pages of The Underdogs, readers may get a better image of a Mexican character wearing a sombrero—those wide-brimmed palm-leaf hats made famous by Villa and Zapata and their followers during this period—than if they read simply “hat.”

  As is often the case, the main challenges a translator faces when seeking to bring a literary text from one language and culture (and, in the case of The Underdogs, from one historical period) into another are the very elements that make that text important, worthwhile, and pleasurable to read. In other words, it is the very features that make a literary text a classic where a translator encounters the toughest challenges to translating it. It may very well reside in that text’s translatability, in the obstacles and challenges to the translation itself, the most prominent of which in The Underdogs I have described here. It may also reside in the fact that a defining characteristic of a classic seems to be that it is translated repeatedly through time, as if each new generation required its own new version of that classic, or as if the work itself were constantly calling out for translation. Thus, translation can be said to contribute to the making of a classic— not only by exporting the work into other languages and traditions and by assuring that text’s “afterlife,” as Walter Benjamin might say, but also by underscoring many of the most fascinating elements of the text, which almost inevitably arise as challenges to the craft of translation. These, then, are some of the central elements that make The Underdogs a classic of Mexican—and Latin American—literature. What follows is my attempt to re-create this classic in a new version in English.

  —SERGIO WAISMAN

  Suggestions for Further Reading

  Azuela, Mariano. Los de abajo: Novela de la Revolucion Mexicana. Edited with an Introduction, Notes, and Vocabulary by John E. Englekirk. New York, London: Appleton-Century -Crofts, 1939.

  Benjamin, Walter. “The Task of the Translator.” In Theories of Translation: An Anthology of Essays from Dryden to Derrida, edited by Rainer Schulte and John Biguenet, 71-82. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.

  Brenner, Anita. The Wind That Swept Mexico: The History of the Mexican Revolution of 1910-1942. With 184 photographs assembled by George R. Leighton. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2003.

  Campobello, Nellie. Cartucho; and My mother’s hands. Translated by Doris Meyer and Irene Matthews. Introduction by Elena Poniatowska. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1988.

  Fuentes, Carlos. La nueva novela hispanoamericana. México: J. Mortiz, 1969.

  Gonzales, Michael J. The Mexican Revolution 1910-1940. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2002.

  Guzmán, Martín Luis. The Eagle and the Serpent. Translated by Harriet de Onis. With an Introduction by Federico de Onis. Garden City, NY: Dolphin Books, 1965.

  Hernández Chávez, Alicia. Translated by Andy Klatt. Mexico: A Brief History. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006.

  Knight, Alan. The Mexican Revolution. 2 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

  Krauze, Enrique. Mexico, Biography of Power: A History of Modern Mexico, 1810-1996. Translated by Hank Heifetz. New York: HarperCollins, 1997.

  Leal, Luis. Mariano Azuela. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1971.

  MacLachlan, Colin M., and William H. Beezley. El gran pueblo: A History of Greater Mexico. 2nd ed. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Simon & Schuster, 1999.

  Robe, Stanley L. Azuela and the Mexican Underdogs. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979.

  Chronology of the Mexican Revolution

  1876-80; 1884-1911: Authoritarian rule of Porfirio Díaz, a period known as the Porfiriato. Although Díaz remains in power through presidential elections, he runs unopposed in repeatedly rigged elections, in essence reelecting himself seven times. Díaz undertakes a number of important modernization and liberalization projects in Mexico, but these almost exclusively benefit only the upper classes and the wealthy landowners, creating an ever-increasing gap between rich and poor, between t
he upper and lower classes, and between cities and rural areas.

  November 20, 1910: Francisco Madero issues the Plan de San Luis Potosí, declaring Díaz’s regime illegal and calling for a revolution against him. Uprisings erupt primarily in the northern and the southern states of the country.

  April-May, 1911: Battle of Ciudad Juárez, in which Pascual Orozco and Francisco “Pancho” Villa defeat the Federale army. Crucial to Madero’s overthrow of the Díaz regime.

  1911: Díaz goes into exile on May 25. Madero—promising agrarian and land reforms—is elected as the new president with the support of popular leaders such as Villa (from the north) and Emiliano Zapata (from the south), and with an overwhelming majority.

  1911-13: Madero’s presidency, which had begun as a united effort against Díaz and the Porfiriato, quickly weakens. Madero’s refusal to enact agrarian and land reforms causes leaders such as Villa and Zapata to turn against him.

  February 9-22, 1913: Victoriano Huerta stages a military coup against Madero in a series of events known as La decena trágica (the tragic ten days), which culminate with Madero and his vice president, Pino Suárez, being murdered, and with Huerta taking over as president and establishing a new dictatorship.

  Late February 1913: Villa, Zapata, Venustiano Carranza (an early supporter of Madero’s efforts to overthrow Díaz), and Álvaro Obregón (who had also contributed in the overthrow of Díaz) join in resistance against Huerta’s dictatorship, as they begin fighting against Huerta’s army.

  October 2, 1913: Villa’s Northern Division captures Torreón (in the state of Coahuila). Villa becomes a civil governor for the first time.

  December 8, 1913: The Battle of Chihuahua (the capital of the state of Chihuahua). The city of Chihuahua falls to Villa and his Northern Division.

  July 1914: After repeated defeats, and given that the United States Navy had seized the seaport of Veracruz to keep Huerta from receiving German arms, Huerta goes into exile. At this point, Carranza takes over as commander in chief of the revolutionary forces.

  November 1914: The group of revolutionary leaders who have just defeated Huerta—most prominently Villa, Zapata, Obregón, and Carranza—hold a meeting, known as the Convención de Aguascalientes (Aguascalientes Convention), to see if they can settle their differences. However, a rift develops between Villa and Zapata on one side and Carranza and Obregón (i.e., the Constitutionalists) on the other. This leads to intense fighting (often referred to as a civil war) between the various factions.

  April 1915: Villa is defeated in the Battle of Celaya by Obregón. Carranza and the Constitutionalists will continue winning most battles and come to control the majority of the country.

  May 1915-May 1920: Carranza serves as president, during which time he calls for a constitutional convention. Carranza is the first president under the Mexican Constitution of 1917. Carranza continues successfully fighting off the forces of Villa and Zapata.

  May 21, 1920: Carranza is assassinated.

  1920-1924: Obregón serves as president.

  July 1920: Villa comes to terms with Obregón and retires.

  July 20, 1923: Villa is assassinated, shot to death as he was driving his own car in Parral, Chihuahua. The conspirators included Obregón and other of his enemies who feared his return to politics.

  Chronology of Mariano Azuela’s Life and Work

  January 1, 1873: Born in Lagos de Moreno, in the state of Jalisco.

  1892-1899: Studies medicine at the University of Guadalajara. Also publishes his first literary short texts during this time.

  1907: Publishes first novel, María Luisa.

  1908-1912: Publishes four more novels.

  1911: After Madero’s overthrow of Díaz, briefly holds a political position in Lagos. Is an enthusiastic supporter of Madero’s early revolutionary goals and presidency.

  1913: After Madero is assassinated, joins the resistance against Huerta’s forces.

  October 1914: Joins the army of Julián Medina, one of Villa’s generals, as his medical officer. Travels with Medina’s band during their battles; begins writing what would become the text for The Underdogs.

  April-October 1915: When Villa is defeated by Obregón (in the Battle of Celaya), Medina withdraws to Lagos; Azuela tends to the wounded. Still pursued by Carranza’s forces, Azuela flees with a group to Tepatlitán and then Cuquío. Attacked in the canyons of Juchipila, the group Azuela is in withdraws to Aguascalientes and then Chihuahua. The advance of Carranza’s troops forces Azuela to flee to Ciudad Juárez and then to take refuge across the border, in El Paso, Texas.

  October-November 1915: Finishes composing The Underdogs and publishes it in serialized installments in the newspaper El Paso del Norte.

  December 1915: The Underdogs is published in the United States by the very small Paso del Norte press. The novel goes almost entirely unnoticed.

  1916: Returns to Guadalajara. Moves with his family to Mexico City. Resumes medical practice and begins a prolific writing career.

  1920: After introducing numerous changes and rewrites, Azuela publishes another small edition of The Underdogs, this time in Mexico City. Once again, it goes mostly unnoticed by readers and critics.

  1924-25: With the fighting of the revolution ended, The Underdogs finally starts receiving critical and public recognition and acclaim, and is touted—in Mexico and abroad—from this point on as a masterpiece and as one of the most important novels of the Mexican Revolution.

  1917-49: Publishes eleven more novels and receives numerous accolades, becoming one of Mexico’s best-known and most important novelists of the twentieth century.

  March 1, 1952: Dies of heart failure.

  1955-58: Three more of his novels are published posthumously.

  PART 1

  I

  “I’m telling you that’s no animal. Listen to how Palomo1is barking . . . That must be a man.”

  The woman stared out into the darkness of the Sierra.

  “Who cares, even if they are Federales?”2replied a man, sitting on his haunches in a corner and eating, a small pan in his right hand and three tortillas in the other.

  But the woman did not answer him. Her senses were concentrated outside their little house.

  The sound of hoofs against stony ground was heard nearby, and Palomo started barking with more anger.

  “Either way, it’d be good for you to hide, Demetrio.”

  Indifferent, the man finished eating. Then he grabbed a pitcher, raised it with two hands, and guzzled down the water. Finally he stood up.

  “Your rifle is under the bedding,” the woman said in a very soft voice.

  The small room was lit by a tallow candle. A yoke, a plow, a goad, and other tilling gear were resting in a corner. Ropes holding up an old adobe molding, serving as a bed, hung from the ceiling. A child lay on faded, torn blankets, sleeping.

  Demetrio grabbed his cartridge belt, strapped it around his waist, and picked up his rifle. Tall, robust, with a bright, beardless red face, he wore a coarse cotton shirt and trousers, a wide-brimmed straw sombrero, and leather sandals.

  He stepped out slowly, deliberately, disappearing into the impenetrable darkness of the night.

  Palomo, enraged, had jumped over the fence of the corral. All of a sudden a shot was heard, and the dog let out a muffled moan and stopped barking altogether.

  A few men on horseback appeared, shouting and cursing. Two dismounted while another stayed with the animals.

  “Women, come on out here. Bring us somethin’ for dinner! Eggs, milk, frijoles, whatever you have, we’re starvin’.”

  “Damned Sierra! The devil’s the only one who wouldn’t get lost out there!”

  “He would get lost, Sergeant, if he was as drunk as you.”

  One of the men wore galloons on his shoulders, the other red stripes on his sleeves.

  “Where are we, little lady? Well, in here all by herself! Is there anyone else in this here house?”

  “So what about that light? And that l
ittle kid? Little lady, we want to eat, real quicklike! Are ya comin’ out or do we make ya come out?”

  “You vile men, you’ve killed my dog! What harm in the world did my poor little Palomo do to you?”

  The woman came back dragging her very white, heavy dog behind her, its eyes already glossed over, its body limp.

  “Oh my, look at those plump, rosy cheeks, Sergeant! My dear, don’t be angry, I swear I’ll turn your house into a dovecote as a namesake to your dog.3But for God’s sake:

  Don’t look at me all irate . . .

  Don’t be angry no more . . .

  Look at me sweetly,

  Oh, light of my eyes . . .

  the officer finished singing in a harsh voice.

  “What is this ranchito called, señora?” the sergeant asked.

  “Limón,” the woman answered hoarsely, without any fear in her voice, and turned to fan the coals of the fire and to reach for more wood.

  “So this is Limón? Land of the famous Demetrio Macías! Didya hear that, Lieutenant? We’re in Limón.”

  “In Limón, huh? Oh well, what do I care! You know, Sergeant, if I’m headin’ to hell, may as well go now, since I got me a good horse anyway. But wouldya look at those little rosy cheeks on that brunette! Tha’s the most perfect pair of ripe red apples to bite right into I’ve ever seen . . .”