Los de abajo -- Welcome to the New World (same as the old one)

Los de abajo strikes me as a remakable work, not only for its almost brutal honesty, but because it is written from the point of view and in the voice of its various characters. This short novel about the Mexican Revolution and the men and women caught up more or less unwillingly within it begins without much explanation in the middle of a violent episode that destroys the modest home of Demetrio Macias, an indigenous peasant who flees for the hills. Like the hero of the Chanson de Roland, Demetrio blows a simple horn to rally his men.

Author Mariano Azuela uses phonetic spelling to bring to life the language spoken by the characters: the local dialect of Demetrio, Anastacio, and Pancracio contrasts sharply with the standard Castilian of medical student cum journalist cum revolutionary Luis Cervantes. One begins to hear the characters' voices as they "speak." It is a powerful technique that serves to underscore the critical social differences between the characters, differences that divided Mexican society. Note, for example, Cervantes's (could there be a more perfect name for this young, "idealistic" criollo ?) professed belief that he understood and empathized with the tears of the peasants. When confronted with the actual tears of Camila, who was upset that Demetrio was manhandling her, Cervantes feels nothing at all. In the end, it is Cervantes who kidnaps Camila under false pretenses, and white slavers her to Demetrio.

None of these characters are what they appear to be: Demetrio, while clearly a talented military man, is no revolutionary. As he tells his story, he was simply running away from a crime he had committed in his hometown of Limon (leaving his wife and infant son to fend for themselves). Cervantes, for all his talk of revolution and ideals, is more than happy to act as kingmaker and pimp to Demetrio, to rob from the men when he recognizes the value of the jewels they are looting, and, in the end, to abandon the Revolution to become a doctor in Texas (while suggesting that Venancio send him all his money, so that they might open an "authentic" Mexican restaurant while Venancio joins the Salvation Army!). Guero Margarito is little more than a sadist. La Pintada looks after her own interests at all costs. Camila seems to be the only character who remains true to herself, who, in spite of being kidnapped and raped, uses what influence she has to care for those who are needier than herself. And for her, there is no future. Not that there is much of a future for any of these characters, who are all doomed as the domesticated animals they casually kill from beginning (Demetrio's dog) to end (the cockfight). Once the fight to rid themselves of the federales is done, the fight goes on, for the sake of fighting itself. And this, of course, leads nowhere.

Indeed, if there is a sad theme to Los de abajo, it is the ultimate futility of it all. For all of the idealism Cervantes tries to instill in Demetrio's men, the idea is not to get rid of the system of caciques, but to make Demetrio the next cacique. After hearing all the of the horror stories of kidnap and rape of the village daughters by the federales, Demetrio wants to take an unwillling Camila with him (and many of his men would also like to take a young girl along for company). Demetrio and Cervantes seem to think this would be fine as long as they do it in victory, and not like the federales. How quickly Cervantes has gained a taste for power, has lost his empathy for the downtrodden. Camila is eventually taken, raped, even killed, and no one sheds so much as a tear. Cervantes uses the Revolution to enrich himself and then leaves Mexico altogether, his notions of social class entirely unaltered. And Mexico itself is left to die, starving, despairing, fighting to the death for ideals that were neither fully articulated nor even entirely understood.