In "Between Two Waters," Silvia Spitta delves
into the analysis of "narratives of transculturation" originating in
the Americas, extending the theoretical implications beyond geographical and
temporal confines. Regardless of one's alignment with her interpretations of a
diverse selection of texts and visual materials, the book prompts contemplation
on the interconnected issues of language, knowledge, and power. Notably, Spitta
communicates her intricate and sophisticated argument in clear prose, avoiding
the jargon that often burdens other literary critiques.
At the core of her argument lies the concept of
"transculturation," coined by Cuban anthropologist Fernando Ortiz in
the 1940s. In contrast to the one-way imposition implied by
"acculturation," Spitta defines transculturation as the "complex
processes of adjustment and re-creation—cultural, literary, linguistic, and
personal—that allow for new, vital, and viable configurations to arise out of
the clash of cultures and the violence of colonial and neo-colonial
appropriations". Specifically, she identifies a "transculturated
subject" as an individual who is "consciously or unconsciously
situated between at least two worlds, two cultures, two languages, and two
definitions of subjectivity, and who constantly mediates between them
all".
Emphasizing that the transculturation process is
reciprocal, impacting both the colonized and the colonizer, Spitta commences
her analysis with Cabeza de Vaca's Naufragios, an account of his
early-sixteenth-century travels in the U.S. Southwest. Spitta contends that
Cabeza de Vaca's adoption of indigenous culture and medical practices
demonstrates transculturation. For example, his use of "nosotros"
(us) to include himself and the indigenous people he traveled with, as opposed
to "los cristianos" for other Spaniards, signifies a perspective
"speaking from the American world". However, the debate arises over
whether Cabeza de Vaca's case, where transculturation occurs after his capture
and adaptation to survive, is the ideal example to generalize that colonizers
change through discovery. While Spitta's argument aligns with the notion that
transculturation is a two-way street, the frequency of its traversal seems more
pronounced among the subordinated than those wielding power
The chapter focusing on Spanish priests' efforts to
eradicate Andean idolatry prompts a reflection on the extent of deviation from
one's culture necessary for transculturation. Spitta argues that the priests,
confronted with indigenous adherence to Catholicism layered with indigenous symbols
and meanings, had to become ethnographers to make Catholicism accessible to a
different culture. In this process of altering the Other, they inadvertently
underwent change themselves. However, the difference between this approach and
Cabeza de Vaca's adaptation as a Shaman for survival is stark. While priests
like Arriaga, Avila, and Bocanegra learned local languages and embraced
ethnography, they seem to have retained the imperial "I/eye." The
extent and nature of their change raise questions about whether it qualifies as
transculturation.
Shifting the focus to indigenous transculturators, Spitta
examines the Cuzco school of painting in a separate chapter. This school
developed its unique aesthetic in the eighteenth century when Andeans rejected
Spanish guidance, persisting in painting Catholic religious icons without
adhering to European artistic and religious standards. Spitta contends that
Western critics unfairly dismissed this indigenous art as
"provincial" and "imitative" while overlooking the inventive
liberties of the artists. A later section features a "picture essay"
with concise explanations of various paintings.
A compelling example of conscious transculturation in
literature comes from Spitta's analysis of Peruvian writer Jose Maria Arguedas'
works. Arguedas, who declared, "yo no soy aculturado" (I am not
acculturated), strived to unite the Andean and coastal worlds in his literature
by writing in Spanish from a Quechua Indian perspective. Arguedas succeeded in
his literary endeavors but tragically struggled to reconcile these tensions in
his personal life, ending in suicide.
The last two chapters introduce a critical feminist
perspective through Elena Garro's analysis of the Malinche myth in Mexico and
Gloria Anzaldua's writings on the U.S.-Mexican borderlands. While this
perspective aligns well with the narratives in these chapters, the potential
extension of this lens to previous chapters is suggested. Spitta argues that
"women's discourse constitutes itself by subverting hegemonic and historiographical
discourses," raising questions about how this subversion differs from that
of Arguedas or Cabeza de Vaca. Is "women's discourse" particularly
subversive, or is it another manifestation of transculturation?
The book adheres to its principles by providing both
original and English translations for every quotation, despite potential
cumbersome aspects, emphasizing the centrality of language to the argument.
However, reliance on an English translation for Father Pablo Joseph de
Arriaga's The Extirpation of Idolatry in Peru, a significant primary source, is
noted.
Analogous to the challenges encountered in the social
sciences with the notion of resistance, scholars striving to illustrate
working-class or subaltern agency have unearthed an extensive arsenal of
strategies employed by the oppressed in their resistance against domination.
Termed the "weapons of the weak," these manifestations of
foot-dragging, gossiping, and sabotage, even in the face of severe repression
such as slavery in the United States, showcase the creativity and humanity of
those conquered, colonized, and oppressed. Despite numerous micro-studies
revealing similar acts of resistance, the crucial question arose: "so
what"? The tentative response has been an endeavor to establish
connections between this subtle resistance and more overt forms of social
change.
"Between Two Waters" emerges as a
thought-provoking and intelligent book. Yet, a lingering concern arises:
instead of embracing Arguedas' "yo no soy un aculturado" (I am not
acculturated), there is a potential shift towards the more frequent assertion
of "todos somos transculturados" (we are all transculturated).
Similar to the rallying cries of "todos somos indios" or "todos
somos Marcos," resonating from countless voices in Mexico City in support
of the Zapatista indigenous uprising in Chiapas, there exists a peril of
obliterating differences in the fervor for solidarity. Spitta's book serves as
a reminder that, within and beyond academia, there are individuals who have grappled
with living between two waters and uniting two worlds without homogenizing
them.
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