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Quince Duncan
Writing Afroâ?"Costa Rican and Caribbean Identity
By Dorothy E. Mosby THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS
Copyright © 2014 The University of Alabama Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8173-1349-4
CHAPTER 1
Short Fiction
Before the release of his earlier novels, Hombres curtidos and Los cuatro espejos, Duncan published short stories in newspapers, journals, and in stand-alone collections. Several of the author's short stories address the peculiarities of the Costa Rican social and political landscape while others address more universal themes such as sudden loss, betrayal, and youth. However, Duncan is most noted for his themes of Afro–West Indian history, language, and culture on the Atlantic coast. His short story collections include El pozo y una carta ("The Pit and a Letter," 1969), Bronce ("Bronze," 1970), Una canción en la madrugada ("Dawn Song," 1970), Mangonía ("Mangoland," ca. 1971), La Rebelión Pocomía y otros relatos ("The Pocomía Rebellion and Other Stories," 1979), and Cuentos escogidos ("Selected Stories," 2004). Some themes presented in the short stories appear later in more developed treatments in his novels. For example, the short story "El pozo," about tragedy during the Costa Rican civil war, prefigures the publication of the award-winning novel Final de calle. The title story of the collection, La Rebelión Pocomía y otros relatos, foreshadows the themes of Afro–West Indian religious expression and resistance in Limón presented in the novel La paz del pueblo (1978).
El pozo y una carta (The Pit and a Letter)
The appearance of the two-story collection, El pozo y una carta, marks the beginning of Duncan's publishing career. Prior to the publication of El pozo y una carta, a few of Duncan's short stories appeared in Costa Rican periodicals. However, this first collection prompted national interest in his work. The collection of two short stories foretells the two directions of Duncan's prose fiction: (1) the impact of Costa Rica's 1948 civil war on the national consciousness, and (2) the engagement with Afro–West Indian history and cultural heritage in the question of Afro–Costa Rican identity. "El pozo" is a story about two friends, Gabriel and Carlos, whose idealism about the future of their nation leads them to join the revolutionary forces in the civil war. Their brotherhood is shattered when Carlos loses his life in battle. Gabriel, who is captured by government forces, is left with memories of their childhood and the haunting voice of the dying Carlos repeating his name, "Gabriel ... Gabriel ..."
This short story, published before the devastating civil wars of the 1970s and 1980s that plagued several Central American countries, conveys the universal message about the deep and permanent scars that civil war leaves on a nation struggling with democracy and progressive reform. However, it is also specifically a Costa Rican story that recalls the destruction that accompanied the 1948 revolution that pitted an implausible alliance of Catholics, conservatives, and communists against a group of liberal-minded reformers. While there are no explicit references to Costa Rica's 1948 revolution, the suggestion of a political climate hostile to the opposition and the identifiable geographic markers such as the Mercado Borbón, located in the center of San José, connects the text to this historical event.
The second story, "Una carta" is a marvelously concise work that captures the impact of internal migration of Afro–Costa Ricans from small provincial towns to larger, urban centers in the nation's Central Valley and abroad. The story also appears, with a few minor alterations, in the collection Una canción en la madrugada. "Una carta" follows the unhappy life of Miss Spence, an Afro–Costa Rican grandmother in the town of Siquirres in the coastal province of Limón. Miss Spence has three children and all three have moved away—two to Limón and one to San José—in search of better opportunities. Miss Spence is left to care for her son's seven children after he migrates to San José. For two years, she travels daily to await the arrival of the train from San José in hopes that a letter from her son will arrive with a remittance to care for his family.
One of the notable elements of the text is Duncan's use of language to describe the landscape and Miss Spence's daily routine to receive news from her son. The story opens with "It's boiling" ("Hierve") and a description of the boiling heat of the humid earth and the scorching wind (PC 11). The arrival of the train provides no relief, but rather "stifle[s] the lament of the oppressed land, overtaken by great need, anguish, and intense heat" ("sofoca la queja de la tierra oprimida por la mucha necesidad, la angustia e intenso calor"; PC 11, my translation). Miss Spence's languid and daily routine of waiting and hoping for relief from her own difficult circumstances in the form of a letter from her son is captured through the painful repetition of, "No Miss Spence, there is no letter for you today."
The heat of the region and Miss Spence's unfulfilled hopes are temporarily broken by the receipt of the letter from her son:
She broke the seal of the letter while the little ones dispersed, and stood there looking at a beautiful paper bill that peeked out from the envelope.
A light breeze softened the heat from the environment and disappeared, carrying with it prayers that quickly sought God's ears.
Rompió el sello mientras los pequeños se dispersaban, y se quedó mirando un hermoso billete que asomaba de entre el sobre.
Un ligero soplo de aire amortiguó el calor del medio ambiente, y se alejó portando preces, buscando aprisa [sic] los oídos de Dios. (PC 13; my translation)
In spite of this momentary relief from the heat and the financial struggle to support her son's children, the rhythmical pattern of her difficult life continues. Miss Spence caresses the long-awaited letter as the heat of the Caribbean province continues to boil. She takes the few colones inside the envelope to buy fish to prepare a meal for her grandchildren and a few lottery tickets in hopes of extending her fortune.
Una canción en la madrugada (Dawn Song)
Written in 1967 and published in 1970, Una canción en la madrugada is a collection of ten stories dedicated "to Limón Province, to the people of Estrada, and especially to the sacred memory of James, Elvira, and Eunice." This connection with the Caribbean coast and its people, as well as the familial ties to his grandparents and mother, recur prominently in the collection's themes of Afro–West Indian culture in Limón Province. The stories in Una canción en la madrugada portray different aspects of life in the coastal region at different periods, most notably, the nineteenth-century arrival of West Indian laborers, the 1948 civil war, and the 1960s and early 1970s. The title story "Una canción en la madrugada" (Dawn Song) and "Las oropéndulas" (Swan Song) depict the complex relationship between human beings and the natural environment. Regional legends and folktales are recast in "Duelo entre amigos" (Duel between Friends) and "La luz del vigía" (The Watchman's Light). The history and customs of the province, as well as contemporary social issues such as sexual harassment, changing cultural values, immigration, and underemployment, appear as themes in "La mujer de la capa blanca" (Sophisticated Lady), "Un regalo para la abuela" (A Gift for Grandma), "Nueve días" (Nine Days), "Una carta" (A Letter), "Dos caminos" (Two Roads), and "Demasiado Peso" (When I Lay My Burden Down).
The opening story of the collection, "Una canción en la madrugada," tenderly describes in beautifully poetic language a few days in the life of a Limonese couple, Juan and Mayra. The story opens with a description of the dawn: "The crystalline clarity of the dawn penetrates the room in all its splendor, scattering its spots of light everywhere. Nothing disturbs the joy of the two lovers" ("La cristalina claridad del alba penetra al cuarto con todo su esplendor, esparciendo por doquier sus manchas de luz. Nada turba la felicidad de los dos enamorados"; TBS 37; CM 11). The remainder of the text is a portrait of life in Siquirres along the railroad line in which the natural splendor of the region serves not only as a backdrop but also as a central "character" present throughout the story. The loving warmth and affection the couple share with each other is interrupted by the workday. Juan must take the train to the banana plantation, and he rushes through the morning calm in order to prepare for his long workday. The symbolism of the natural environment presents a series of oppositions as observed by Dellita Martin-Ogunsola: "In 'Dawn Song' Duncan contrasts the searing innervating daytime, symbolized by the tropical heat, to the cool refreshing night when John and Mayra relax in bed, represented by the translucent aura of the sky. The author extends this symbolic chart of opposites to the natural world, for the banana tree, cocoa plants, machete, and swamp are associated with pain, lack of fulfillment, futility, and danger, while distant objects like sky, stars, moonlight, and clouds suggests joys, hopes, and dreams" (Martin-Ogunsola 2004, 32). The bodies of Juan and Mayra in love, labor, and the struggle to survive are depicted as part of the natural environment of the region, which underscores the bond and dependency of humans on nature. Implicitly, there is a message that the West Indians belong to this place and by extension the nation through the careful integration of markers of Afro–West Indian culture such as food, language, music, and religion. According to Richard L. Jackson in The Black Image in Latin American Literature, in Duncan's work, "The Anglo-Caribbean background is reflected through the portrayal of Black customs as well as through the use of the English language in words and idioms used by characters most often in exclamatory expressions provoked by undesirable conditions, frustrations, and resentments" (1976, 129). Mayra and Juan use the expression "cho," a Jamaican exclamation of annoyance, when Juan rushes to catch the train. She says to Juan: "Like a runnin' ant ... ¡cho! And what makes me boil is you haven't even washed your face" ("Tanta prisa ... ¡cho! Y lo que me da cólera es que ni siquiera te has lavado la cara"), and he responds, "Cho, woman gimme the tea, man and stop talking, man" ("Cho, dame el té, hombre, y dejá de hablar, hombre"; CM 13; my translations). After the workweek is over, we get a glimpse into their Sunday ritual of church services at the Catholic and Anglican churches, fishing on the Pacuare River, and dancing to the blues and calypso.
"Duelo entre amigos" tells the tale of two unlikely friends who become enemies, and in an ironic twist of fate they become forever linked in local lore. A rum-drinking Jamaican and a guaro-swigging Costa Rican from Cartago form a friendship during a time when West Indians and the "natives" did not mix socially. However, the two men develop a bond, a brotherhood united initially by the love of imbibing spirits. Their relationship takes a dramatic turn when a cultural clash occurs during one night of drinking. The Costa Rican is a guest in the Jamaican's home and he spits on the floor of his host. This action, an accepted practice among Costa Rican peasants, is considered a personal affront in the eyes of the Jamaican. The friendship ends violently and ironically. Both men are buried facing each other, "so that they may share the land, cold, and rain" ("para que compartiesen la tierra, el frío y la lluvia"; TBS 53; CM 20). The two men become legends in the region, prompting stories that begin with the familiar "Once upon a time there was a Jamaican and a man from Cartago who were friends" ("Había una vez un jamaicano y un cartago que eran amigos"; TBS 53; CM 20).
The 1948 Costa Rican civil war provides the historical setting for "Un regalo para la abuela" (A Gift for Grandma). The humor of the tale is juxtaposed with the seriousness of the armed conflict being waged. The disputed results of the presidential election of 1948 between former president Rafael Angel Calderón Guardia and Otilio Ulate created a national crisis, and "open rebellion erupted throughout the Central Valley" (Harpelle 2001, 169). An armed conflict ensued between the forces of Liberación Nacional led by former exile and opposition leader José María Figueres against the supporters of Calderón. The small town of Estrada, Limón, where "Un regalo para la abuela" is set, is a town very far removed, both culturally and politically, from the national political tensions that are sweeping the Central Valley. However, the tranquility of the Limonese village is broken by the whistle of the train and news that the armed forces of Liberación Nacional are heading toward Estrada. The town is thrust into the middle of the armed revolt when nearby Puerto Limón falls under the control of the liberacionista forces led by Figueres. Many of the Afro–West Indian men have already fled the area, and Cocobello, the story's protagonist, is faced with the difficult dilemma of how to protect his family and stay out of the conflict.
It is well documented that both sides of the revolt, progovernment supporters of Calderón and the rebels under the control of Figueres, sought recruits among the black population. President Teodoro Picado, a supporter of Calderón's candidacy, believed that Costa Rican–born West Indians had an obligation to protect the current government. According to historian Ronald Harpelle: "At the beginning of the civil war, President Picado's government told all Costa Rican–born West Indians that their obligation was to defend the established order against Figueres and his supporters. The reaction of the majority of the community was to avoid taking sides. For example, when a rumor reached the coastal town of Cahuita that the government was sending soldiers to look for recruits, the young men fled. Most of the people in the community knew little about the intricacies of the political crisis; furthermore, they did not care. All they knew was that that trains were not running, the port was closed, and shots were being fired in Limón" (Harpelle 2001, 169).
With the news of the encroaching forces on their way to Estrada, Cocobello is noticeably shaken. Word has traveled fast that the rebels are looking for recruits in the village, and as a healthy, able-bodied man he is a prime candidate for forced recruitment. Many men have already escaped into the mountains to avoid being conscripted by the government and the liberacionistas. Earlier, he successfully avoided the government troops, but now he must also avoid being taken into the ranks of the revolutionaries: "Suddenly he was in the middle of a revolution whose cause he did not understand and whose consequences were to be feared. No way! He decided to repeat the trick that had served him well with the official government." ("De repente estaba en medio de una revolución cuya causa no comprendía, y cuyas consecuencias eran de temerse. Ni modo: decidió repetir la treta que le había servido con el ejército oficial." TBS 59; CM 24). He and his wife, Ruby, become "tricksters" and employ the same Anancy-like survival tactic to avoid the rebels that saved Cocobello from conscription into the government troops: he dresses as a harmless, old woman and takes on the persona of "La Abuela" (the Grandmother)(Martin-Ogunsola 2004, 38–39).
Cocobello is the father of six sons who are under the protection of his in-laws. The narrator reiterates Cocobello's desire to save his children from harm and to stay out of the war: "He won't let them fight in a war that's not theirs." ("El no les dejará para luchar en una guerra que no es suya." TBS 6; CM 25). The soldiers arrive and proclaim that they are "revolutionaries." They question Cocobello's wife, Ruby, about the whereabouts of the male members of the household. She reveals little information and claims that she knows nothing about the conflict and has nothing to share with the men. The language Duncan uses to recount Ruby's interaction with the white and mestizo soldiers, in contrast with the easy flow of conversation with her husband, captures the sounds of an Anglophone speaker attempting to communicate in a language that is not hers. She says, "si senior," instead of the standard "sí señor" (yes sir); "mi solo tener hijos no esposo," instead of "Solo tengo hijos, no tengo esposo" (I only have children, I don't have a husband); and "mi no saber ... mi no entiende esta cosa," instead of "yo no sé ... no entiendo esta cosa" (I don't know ... I don't understand this thing) (TBS 61; CM 26). Furthermore, Duncan communicates through the transcription of English words in the Spanish text that the family is clearly West Indian. For example, Ruby exclaims, "Chisas Kraist" (Jesus Christ) when she witnesses the soldiers approaching their home.
The soldiers set up camp on their property and engage in a firefight with the government that ends quickly. The soldiers are enchanted with the "grandmother" and promise that after their anticipated triumph at the end of the conflict, blacks will no longer be exploited: "We'll expropriate the railroads and give them to the blacks." ("Expropiaremos el ferrocarril y se lo entregaremos al negro." TBS 65; CM 28). Hearing this, "Cocobello thought the matter sounded good to him, and he swore to support the new regime." ("Cocobello pensó que el negocio era bueno. Y juró apoyar al nuevo régimen." TBS 65; CM 28).
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Quince Duncan by Dorothy E. Mosby. Copyright © 2014 The University of Alabama Press. Excerpted by permission of THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS.
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