Magical Realism
Self-Expression and Literary Protest in Argentine Literature
Introduction
Before going to Buenos Aires, Argentina, I thought magical realism was a type of fiction genre that blends imaginative and realistic elements. I knew it originated in Latin America, namely Argentina, Mexico and Colombia, and that it reached a global audience during the Latin American “Literary Boom” in the 1960s and 1970s, a time when political unrest and social movements erupted. The most prominent authors known within this genre - Jorge Luis Borges and Julio Cortázar - drew my interest to Buenos Aires, specifically, as a city known for its artistic contributions and as the “literary capital” of Latin America. In the works of these mentioned authors, they frequently concentrate on this setting, inspired by its unique culture, beauty and history; as such, I was curious as to why Buenos Aires has such a strong impact on creatives, particularly writers. In my research, my goal was to examine magical realism - its origins and influence - through an Argentine context. Furthermore, I was interested in understanding how it has and continues to be used as a form of political rebellion and social critique. The bigger-picture theme I wanted to explore is the relationship, including the boundaries, between literature and (freedom of) expression.
Methodology
For my method of research, I performed experiential study through visiting historical literary sites (such as museums, parks, cafés), speaking with local tour guides and meeting with a contemporary Argentine author. The historical literary sites I chose hold a connection with either Argentina’s literary culture at large or to the magical realist authors, like Jorge Luis Borges. As such, my research focussed more on the historical origins and evolution of this genre and less on its craft within writing. I also went on a “Historical Literary Tour of Buenos Aires” with a tour guide, Miguel Kenny, who provided me with a local perspective regarding literary culture and showed me around famous landmarks, like Plaza de Mayo, where all of the protests in Buenos Aires occur. The author I met with is Agustina María Bazterrica, a well-known, well-respected writer amongst the contemporary literature scene; I read her book, Tender Is the Flesh, to understand modern uses of magical realism. Throughout my visit, I used a creative writing lens to grasp the relevance of writing in relation to space, that is environment.
Interview Questions for my tour guide, Miguel Kenny:
- In which ways is/was magical realism used as a (literary) symbol of national identity?
- How did/does magical realism influence Argentina's artistic culture and style?
- How did magical realism transition from being an emerging literary genre into a form of socio-political rebellion?
I asked Agustina María Bazterrica these interview questions:
- In which ways does magical realism allow writers the freedom to express themselves?
- How do you think magical realism has evolved and why?
- Compared to other literary genres, what makes magical realism such a prominent, unique and perhaps controversial genre?
- Did you incorporate magical realism into your writing as a personal choice or because it largely characterizes Argentine literature?
Findings from interviews
After my interviews, my definition of magical realism completely changed. I realize now that this genre is not simply a type of literature, but also a type of cultural identity, nonconformism and literary paradox. Miguel, my tour guide, highlighted that when it comes to magical realism, “it’s about Latin America, not just Argentina. It’s a kind of brotherhood of Latin American writers. We share a past, an identity.” In that sense, magical realism can be viewed as symbolic of community and pride. Miguel talked about how Eva Peron, the First Lady of Argentina from 1946 to 1952, was considered a magical force, both myth and reality, whose influence was so strong she has several buildings named after her. “Because her spirit lives within us even after her death, she is magical realism,” Miguel explains. “Or consider our current president, who seeks advice from his dead dog. In which other countries would their presidents do that? If that’s our reality, how are [these examples] not expected to be explored in our literature? How are we then not expected to be influenced by this literature?” Regarding Miguel´s statement, I’ve concluded that magical realism partly stems from superstition. Beliefs deriving from imagination turn into common sense, like a social norm. Any hint of realistic contradiction is ignored. I questioned why this unspoken, mutual agreement occurs - perhaps it goes back to cultural identity, something I wouldn’t be able to entirely understand as an American. That idea, in itself, portrays the communal aspect of magical realism: a shared intellect.
When I asked Miguel about the political elements of magical realism, he said it´s not fundamentally political, but that “some characters and places could be used politically, though they would only be understood by Latin Americans.” This same concept came up in my interview with Agustina Bazterrica, who said that “In Latin America, we are all about extremes: extreme weather, extreme politics, extreme art… we consider it normal, maybe that is where magical realism comes from.” The metaphors and symbolism and imagery used within Latin American magical realism narratives are often thought of as multi-interpretational, which is fair to say because most literature has various messages; however, the nuances, double-meanings and idioms are what connect a literary piece to the community in which is represents. Like an inside-joke, magical realism allows Latin Americans to see its true meaning, the vulnerability of the author. On the other hand, magical realism, at face-value, can be defined by westerners in their own words, though only up to an extent. That distinction is what makes magical realism a Latin American product. While its core, its entirety, can only be understood by Latin Americans, Agustina Bazterrica clarifies that “it cannot be exclusively associated with Latin American authors. We do not always use magical realism nor do we all identify as magical realists.” Essentially, there is no “literary code” these writers must follow. Like any writer, Agustina writes because she wants to, and she writes for herself.
In terms of her novel Tender Is the Flesh, she explains that some readers may view it as a type of magical realism, but she intended it to be modern fantasy. I agreed with her when she told me that “a lot of magical realism is actually just fantasy mis-understood.” This false categorization of literature happens all the time. Her novel is about cannabalism in relation to capitalism. “Cannibalism is something that happened and still happens,” she explains, “it’s not something magical like in One Hundred Years of Solitude (Jorge Luis Borges) where a character rises to the sky and disappears.” In other words, her novel is about something that occurs in the realm of reality and therefore should be viewed in realistic terms. While it can hold symbolic relevance, it cannot be identified as a fantastical symbol or fictitious metaphor, at least not on its own. To continue, Agustina says that magical realism is “probable but not impossible. The limits of something real is what magical realism can explore in-depth. It’s a surprise of sorts, a sudden randomness that questions reality. There is no questioning, no resistance, no shift in thought.” In that case, I could say that magical realism is a disruption, something out of place that seeks attention amidst standard rhythm. It’s quite philosophical and should be discussed in such terms. I would also argue that magical realism is so widely misunderstood, mis-defined or mis-represented because a lot of its discourse happens outside Latin American by non-Latin American identities. It’s important to keep in mind the accuracy and authenticity of academic perspectives in relation to where and who it comes from, as I’ve started to seriously take into account within my research.
Images
El Ateneo bookstore
Biblioteca Nacional Mariano Moreno
La Biela Café, where Jorge Luis Borges and Adolfo Bioy Casares frequented.
Tender Is the Flesh, by Agustina Bazterrica
Left: view from my hostel (Recoleta district). Right: view of Recoleta Avenue.
Museo del libro y de la lengua
Plaza de Mayo
Monument to the Carta Magna and Four Regions of Argentina (Palermo Avenue)
Left: Paseo El Rosedal Garden. Right: Plaza Oriental Republic of Uruguay
Left: San Nicolás Avenue. Right: Palace of the Argentine National Congress
Personal Impact
Developed bilingual research skills
Expanded my literary network
Gained a better understanding of the literary culture and history of Buenos Aires and Argentina at large
Enhanced my ability to solo-travel, including problem-solving while abroad
Next Steps
Moving forward, I would be interested in speaking to more Latin American writers, particularly those focussed on modern forms of magical realism. Doing so could provide me with insight that I would reference and use within my own literary projects. Equally as important, I would use this insight to help me distinguish between American, that is Western, and Argentine, or all Latin American, definitions of literary genres, concepts and “common ideologies.” The latter would provide me with a more global perspective of literature and an awareness of foreign “innovations” whose purposes/messages may be lost in translation or misrepresented in western communities. I’m also curious to explore the other genres inspired by or related to magical realism, namely American realism, which could provide me with a more in-depth understanding of this topic through comparative study. Personally, I want to make it a goal of mine to read more Hispanic literature, as well as write using literary techniques originating from Hispanic writing.
Thank you to the Keller Family for funding Venture Grants and for providing the opportunity to pursue wonderful global experiences!