Bless Me, Ultima - Rudolfo Anaya
In the summer before he turned seven, there came many changes in the life of Antonio Márez; changes such as the first day of school, where he began to unlock the magic of letters and learn his first English. There was the return of his three older brothers, unharmed, from the war in Europe and Asia. But the greatest change of all was his parents' decision to welcome into their home the aging healer la Grande, or Ultima. This great curandera, midwife, and philosopher was famous both on the wilds of the eastern New Mexico llano, where Tony's father's people herded sheep and cattle, and in the rich bottomlands along the Pecos River where his mother's family tilled their fields and tended orchards. From the moment he first saw Ultima, Antonio realized that the two shared some special bond; that their fates were linked in a manner he could not describe.
For the Márez family, life was simple and yet complex: like some New World Romeo and Juliet, the marriage of Tony's parents joined rancher to farmer, with old enmity between the families still lying just beneath the surface. Forced by marriage to give up an almost nomadic existence on the llano, yet too proud to be a farmer, Tony's father instead worked for the state and drank to calm his genetic wanderlust. Meanwhile, his mother pined quietly for the rich soil of her family's valley and dreamed that her youngest son would someday be called to the priesthood. Still, theirs managed to be a happy family, and the next few years were happy days for Tony.
One day, Tony's uncle came to ask a favor of la Grande: another of Tony's uncles lay on his deathbed; the doctor could not help and the priest was of no help, either. Could the great curandera heal him; could she reverse the spell cast on him by an evil village woman? This was how Tony learned of Ultima's full power. There was another power in the young boy's life: the church of his mother, a devout Catholic. As First Communion approached and he completed his Catechism classes, Tony thought he could feel the majesty and glory of the Church - at clear odds with his friends from town, who teased Tony unmercifully about his faith, with that special cruelty of which only young children seem capable.
A child is a sort of psychic compass, pointing toward the greatest power in his vicinity, and Tony was no exception. He seemed to have no difficulty concocting a philosophy that integrated his mother's Catholicism, Ultima's shamanist spirituality, and even pantheic influences from his friend Cico with the tale of a godlike golden carp. Tony's faith in all three influences, however, would be tested early - and often - in his young life. Which of the three would provide the protection he most desired, protection against evil? Which, indeed...
Renowned Chicano author Rudolfo Anaya allows that his classic novel Bless Me, Ultima (also published in Spanish as Bendíceme, Ultima) is partially autobiographical in that it records parts of his childhood in the Santa Rosa area of eastern New Mexico. He's also been known to state that - although curanderas (traditional healers and herbalists) still plied their trade in his childhood, and in fact do so to this day - none like Ultima was part of his youth: instead, Ultima came to him in a dream as he began writing. If you ask me, that was one heckuva dream...
The life of a little boy in wartime New Mexico was wildly different from today: no internet or television, not even a radio; no soccer or Little League, no Cub Scouts or 4-H. Instead, Tony's days were filled by his chores around the house and his games with the boys from school. Anaya recounts that play as rough-and-tumble, filled to the brim by boasting and fighting, with curses hurled at one's playmates at the drop of a hat. Antonio's gang were all quite different from their younger friend, however, lacking both his faith and his desire to learn. They were more the type who would end up with DA haircuts and hot rods in high school, where Tony was obviously destined to become a man of learning - after all, Ultima said he would. Those of us who are interested in learning other languages (particularly the naughty words) will be pleased with Anaya's tale, which is chucky-jam full of both English and New Mexican Spanish maledictions (most of which I'd already learned from John Nichols in The Milagro Beanfield War).
The novel faithfully records a critical period in young Tony's life. It's a life filled by a loving family, friends of many stripes, and a strong vein of religion. Most of all, however, it's also a life guided by the mysterious Ultima, who many think a bruja or witch. As L. Frank Baum pointed out before Rudolfo Anaya was even born, however, there are not just wicked witches in this world: there are good witches as well.
An interesting and thought-provoking memoir, not to mention a novel that was crucial in helping elevate Latino literature in the eyes of the literary community.
Though a novel whose main character is a pre-teen boy, Bless Me, Ultima is far too mature for children of Tony's age. Even if you don't object to the frequent bilingual maledictions (one wonders if challengers are bamboozled by the lack of a glossary to define words like cabrón or jodido), the themes are clearly beyond the ken of preteens; even most early teens. I see no reason why a mature high-schooler (sadly, a vanishing breed) should not gain from the reading, however. If you're the type of person who believes that your child deserves a chance to think for him- or her-self, slip a copy into their stocking come Christmas - or Winter Solstice, if you prefer...
For the Márez family, life was simple and yet complex: like some New World Romeo and Juliet, the marriage of Tony's parents joined rancher to farmer, with old enmity between the families still lying just beneath the surface. Forced by marriage to give up an almost nomadic existence on the llano, yet too proud to be a farmer, Tony's father instead worked for the state and drank to calm his genetic wanderlust. Meanwhile, his mother pined quietly for the rich soil of her family's valley and dreamed that her youngest son would someday be called to the priesthood. Still, theirs managed to be a happy family, and the next few years were happy days for Tony.
One day, Tony's uncle came to ask a favor of la Grande: another of Tony's uncles lay on his deathbed; the doctor could not help and the priest was of no help, either. Could the great curandera heal him; could she reverse the spell cast on him by an evil village woman? This was how Tony learned of Ultima's full power. There was another power in the young boy's life: the church of his mother, a devout Catholic. As First Communion approached and he completed his Catechism classes, Tony thought he could feel the majesty and glory of the Church - at clear odds with his friends from town, who teased Tony unmercifully about his faith, with that special cruelty of which only young children seem capable.
A child is a sort of psychic compass, pointing toward the greatest power in his vicinity, and Tony was no exception. He seemed to have no difficulty concocting a philosophy that integrated his mother's Catholicism, Ultima's shamanist spirituality, and even pantheic influences from his friend Cico with the tale of a godlike golden carp. Tony's faith in all three influences, however, would be tested early - and often - in his young life. Which of the three would provide the protection he most desired, protection against evil? Which, indeed...
Renowned Chicano author Rudolfo Anaya allows that his classic novel Bless Me, Ultima (also published in Spanish as Bendíceme, Ultima) is partially autobiographical in that it records parts of his childhood in the Santa Rosa area of eastern New Mexico. He's also been known to state that - although curanderas (traditional healers and herbalists) still plied their trade in his childhood, and in fact do so to this day - none like Ultima was part of his youth: instead, Ultima came to him in a dream as he began writing. If you ask me, that was one heckuva dream...
The life of a little boy in wartime New Mexico was wildly different from today: no internet or television, not even a radio; no soccer or Little League, no Cub Scouts or 4-H. Instead, Tony's days were filled by his chores around the house and his games with the boys from school. Anaya recounts that play as rough-and-tumble, filled to the brim by boasting and fighting, with curses hurled at one's playmates at the drop of a hat. Antonio's gang were all quite different from their younger friend, however, lacking both his faith and his desire to learn. They were more the type who would end up with DA haircuts and hot rods in high school, where Tony was obviously destined to become a man of learning - after all, Ultima said he would. Those of us who are interested in learning other languages (particularly the naughty words) will be pleased with Anaya's tale, which is chucky-jam full of both English and New Mexican Spanish maledictions (most of which I'd already learned from John Nichols in The Milagro Beanfield War).
The novel faithfully records a critical period in young Tony's life. It's a life filled by a loving family, friends of many stripes, and a strong vein of religion. Most of all, however, it's also a life guided by the mysterious Ultima, who many think a bruja or witch. As L. Frank Baum pointed out before Rudolfo Anaya was even born, however, there are not just wicked witches in this world: there are good witches as well.
| Bless Me, Ultima is usually called a "coming-of-age" tale. In certain aspects, Tony's story is a typical coming-of-age tale; recording as it does the formative years of a young boy when he first leaves his mother's side for that great collection of stimuli called "school." Yet I personally consider "coming of age" a misnomer: instead, Anaya's novel is a coming-of-faith novel. In its three short years, little Tony weathered many crises of faith; witnessing death up close and personal, and observing the evils of the Church's deadliest sins, particularly wrath. At each of these critical moments, even as he took his First Communion, he felt a sort of emptiness in the religion that Europeans had forced upon his Native ancestors. Guided by Ultima's power, by her quiet competence and ancient calm, Tony was eventually able to reconcile his questioning with a different sort of spirituality, a spirituality that finds harmony with creation instead of attempts to control it. |
An interesting and thought-provoking memoir, not to mention a novel that was crucial in helping elevate Latino literature in the eyes of the literary community.
| Almost since the day it first hit store shelves in 1972, Anaya's novel has been challenged and banned in schools and communities nationwide. On the opposite end of the spectrum, it's also been chosen as a "community reads" book on several occasions (usually by liberal bastions such as Boulder, Colorado). Challenges generally cite the language (both English and Spanish) used by characters in the book, the presence of a brothel in Tony's little town (frequented by his brother Andrew), and the "glorification of witchcraft" - even before Harry Potter! It's a poorly-kept secret, though, that the main objection of most protestors to Bless Me, Ultima is that when Tony decides on a religious path top follow, Christianity loses out to a form of Native American animism - the detested "Earth Worship" they call "paganism" (see Gaia). Most practitioners of the type of Christianity that feels threatened by a spirituality embracing all of Earth as a blessed gift seem ignorant of the manner in which their own religion has appropriated pagan and animist symbology and celebrations into its theism, which is probably just as well: you wouldn't want their heads to explode (it would be messy). |
Though a novel whose main character is a pre-teen boy, Bless Me, Ultima is far too mature for children of Tony's age. Even if you don't object to the frequent bilingual maledictions (one wonders if challengers are bamboozled by the lack of a glossary to define words like cabrón or jodido), the themes are clearly beyond the ken of preteens; even most early teens. I see no reason why a mature high-schooler (sadly, a vanishing breed) should not gain from the reading, however. If you're the type of person who believes that your child deserves a chance to think for him- or her-self, slip a copy into their stocking come Christmas - or Winter Solstice, if you prefer...
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