Good ol' Iracema

"The white warrior no longer desires any other country save the land of his son and of his heart."
(José de Alencar, Iracema, 79)

Iracema's going pretty well, I guess.  The story's interesting enough, but I'm still trying to get over the style of writing.  I connect more with the overall arc and context of the story, so it was hard to find a single quote to write about.  We've talked often about movies whose plots parallel the story of Iracema (Dances with Wolves, Pocahontas, Avatar).  In class the other day, I thought of one that we haven't discussed:  The Last Samurai.

To sum up the story (spoiler alert), Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise) is a former U.S. Civil War captain hired by the quickly modernizing (o sea Westernizing) Japan to lead their army against a rebellious group of Samurai who want to preserve the traditional ways of their culture.  During a battle, he is taken prisoner by the "savage" Samurai and lives with them for several months:

As you can probably guess, he ends up finding inner peace while learning their ways, falling in love, and becoming one of them.  

One of the most interesting differences (compared to Iracema) is that the main character is the Westerner.  Further, instead of joining the natives willingly, he's captured by them.  But the lessons he learns about himself, the people, and life change his attitude toward them.  Eventually, he's given his own katana.  To me, this is comparable to when Martim receives a native name and gets war-painted.  The white warrior abandons his previous life to start a new one in "the land of... his heart."

Iracema is Alencar's way of defining Brazil's national identity - an origin story.  In The Last Samurai, the story is not about origins but the preservation of a national identity.  Katsumoto, the head Samurai, leads a rebellion against the emperor's armies to maintain Japanese legacy and traditions.  At the same time, he's deeply loyal to the emperor (his former student) as the leader of Japan.  Unfortunately, the emperor doesn't understand Katsumoto's motives until it's too late:

I think an important point to consider is the cost (on both sides) of the "Westerner" joining the "natives," oftentimes discovering a personal identity.  Nathan Algren will never be with his people again, and Martim and Iracema's lives will be changed forever.  Obviously they all have a choice, and the life they choose is probably better than the previous one.  But different cultures coming into contact with each other is often messy.

An Open Mind

"The Jesuit Pedro José Márquez published two studies at the beginning of the century which argued that notions of beauty are relative, and that the great monuments of the indigenous past should be studied on an equal footing with those of Greece and Rome."
(Dawn Ades, Art in Latin America, 28)

As a percussionist in high school, I was able to attend a master class taught by Michael Spiro, a world renowned Afro-Cuban drummer.  In addition to teaching us techniques on congas and bongos, he spent a fair amount of time talking about music appreciation.  The most memorable thing I learned that day was about keeping an open mind:  even though we may not enjoy a particular genre or style of music doesn’t mean that we should dismiss it completely as a valid form of art.  Within a genre there can exist good and bad examples, but to discount it entirely is arrogant.  This concept also applies to literature, visual arts, drama, etc.

For example, I often hear people say things along the lines of “Modern art/music is dumb!  There’s no skill involved - it’s meaningless.  Anybody could produce that type of art.”  I’d never had much of an opinion about modern art, either for or against.  However, after taking MUSIC 201 & 202 (Civilization: Music) from a professor whose specialty is modern art/music, I better understood the genre.  Learning about the context and motives for different styles of art gives you an appreciation for them, even though you still may not like them.

source

I think this is the point that Pedro José Márquez wanted to make - just because indigenous art wasn’t understood, it shouldn’t be viewed as a lower form than European art.

To me, this idea extends beyond the arts to opposing positions on various topics.  It annoys me when people aren’t willing to admit that views different than their own contain any valid points whatsoever.  Because of this, I often play devil’s advocate when talking with friends or family, even if I’m completely against the position I’m defending.  I was reminded of this in class on Tuesday when Dr. Mack mentioned a character from the book The Name of the Wind who had to maintain two diametrically opposing thoughts in his mind simultaneously.  By considering multiple views of a situation or art form or culture, we develop a more complete understanding of it. 

My Mission

"So, your Holiness, now your priests are dead, and I am left alive. But in truth it is I who am dead, and they who live. For as always, your Holiness, the spirit of the dead will survive in the memory of the living. "  -Altamirano
(Roland Joffé (director), The Mission)

Having served a mission in Paraguay, I don't know why it took me such a long time before watching The Mission.  I finally got around to it when Dr. Mack assigned us to watch the movie - I'm so grateful that he did.  Warning - because this topic hits close to home for me, I'm definitely going to go over the suggested 250-300 words.

(I took all of the pictures in this blog post while on my mission in Paraguay.  One p-day, I was lucky enough to visit the ruins at the Misión Jesuítica de la Santísima Trinidad - the pictures of the ruins were taken there.  Unlike the Aztecs and Incans, the Guaraní didn't build with stone - the only ancient ruins in Paraguay are what's left of the Jesuit missions.)

Where to start?  I've been thinking about this movie constantly since I watched it 2 days ago.  Even considered apart from my bias towards Paraguay, the film commands awe:  great acting, beautiful cinematography, inspiring film score.  But my experiences in Paraguay were what made it meaningful.

The plot centers on Jesuit missionaries who preached the Gospel to the native Guaraní (the people) in Paraguay.  I spent two years preaching the Gospel to their descendants in the same place speaking the same languages.  (The actors portraying the Indians weren't Guaraní, nor did they speak Guaraní (the language) in the movie, and not all of the film was shot in Paraguay.  I surprised myself at how okay I was with that - usually I'm big on authenticity.)

Watching the film was a very nostalgic experience.  All sorts of memories resurfaced in my brain during the movie.  Not specific memories, but more like emotional memories of what I feel for the people and the land.  Only those who have served a mission for the Church will know exactly what I'm talking about - I think it's impossible to describe those feelings with words.  Of course the Portuguese empire wasn't trying to enslave the people I taught, but I think that today's missionaries experience many of the same emotions that the Jesuits dealt with in the movie.

My favorite scene was the atonement of Rodrigo Mendoza as he arrives at the Guaraní mission above the falls.  Through tears and laughter, he comes to understand the grace and forgiveness of God.  He suffers trials and penance as he comes to understand the people he's serving.  I think most missionaries have similar experiences.

Ha pe tesapehára omimbi pe pytûnguype ha pe pytû ndikatúi ombogue pe tesape.  Juan 1:5

Last summer I finished a book by John Gimlette called At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels through Paraugay.  In it, he talks about the rise of the powerful Jesuit missionaries and how the Spanish and Portuguese eventually took them out.  Here are some quotes and some of my commentary:

Gimlette describes how though they were peaceful communities, disobedience was still punished with lashings:  "There was no death penalty, and after every flogging, the accused kissed the sleeve of his scourge, the priest.  Here, perhaps, was the most telling feature of all:  in each of the reductions there were seldom more than two Europeans.  Whips or not, the Jesuit Arcadia was a community by consent" (286).

"[The Guaraní] could reproduce almost anything:  violins, harpsichords, clocks, statues, Dürer, Bosch or Callot.  Their choirs could mimic any that the holy fathers had left behind... They built themselves a printing press a century before Buenos Aires.  At San Cosme, they constructed an astronomical observatory and brought the world important news from Saturn.  These were some of the most literate communities in the world and in a state of unceasing adoration.  Life, as one wag put it, was a perpetual Sunday" (286).

"Even Voltaire, who was never comfortable in the praise of religious orders, conceded that the Paraguayan example was 'unique upon the Earth' and a replica of the 'ancient government of Sparta'... It would even be suggested that the republic was modelled on Thomas More's Utopia and Campanella's The City of the Sun" (287).

Regarding the Portuguese invasion:  "The Jesuits played their part in the ensuing slaughter.  Intellectually, they argued that kings had no business subverting the natural rights of Indians.  Disobedience was morally imperative.  In the field, the holy fathers exhorted the Indians to resistance.  Chief among them was an Irishman of uncertain temper and excruciating Latin:  Thadeus Ennis.  After four years of stalemate, he urged his Guaraní to battle" (288).

Regarding the confusion of the Guaraní that still may exist today:  "Sixty thousand Guaranís were enslaved.  To the slavers, their harvesting was child's play.  No longer did they have to pursue the fleet savages through the forest.  The Jesuits had gathered them into human dovecotes.  'Of gravest concern,' wrote one priest, ' is that the Indians imagine that we gathered them in, not to teach them the law of God but to deliver them to the Portuguese'" (282).

(This river connects to the one from the movie The Mission.)

Regarding the movie:  "The Mission emerged in the last decade of the Stronato. Thadeus Ennis is just recognisable (sic) in the swagering of Robert De Niro.  At the time the film was set, Paraguay's government was considered the most virtuous in the world.  By the time the film was launched, it was the most diabolical.  Naturally, General Stroessner had the picture banned" (289).  The "Stronato" refers to the 35 year long reign of Paraguay's most recent notorious dictator, General Alfredo Stroessner.

&#%@$!

In our daily language there is a group of words that are prohibited, secret, without clear meanings.  We confide the expression of our most brutal or subtle emotions and reactions to their magical ambiguities.  They are evil words, and we utter them in a loud voice only when we are not in control of ourselves...  Each letter and syllable has a double life, at once luminous and obscure, that reveals and hides us.  They are words that say nothing and say everything...  They are the bad words, the only living language in a world of anemic vocables.  They are poetry withing the reach of everyone.
(Octavio Paz, The Labyrinth of Solitude, 73-74)

Language fascinates me.  Being humans, we assign meaning to seemingly random strings of phonemes.  That's the fundamental pattern of verbal communication:  the sender encodes an idea or message into words (either spoken or written), and the receiver decodes and interprets.  It's interesting how some words carry more weight than others.  For example, when I combine letters/sounds into words like pear, spine, or burrito man, you probably don't react as strongly as when I combine them into words like rape, penis, or brain tumor.  Really, it's the idea behind the words that gets us.

I like how Paz describes swear words.  They "say nothing" because they're often interjected expletives, but "say everything" because they convey more emotion and meaning than other words.  He talks about these words as a preface to his explanation of a certain swear word/phrase that holds particular significance to Mexican culture and history.  His explanation is both thorough and insightful.

At BYU and in the LDS culture, we are encouraged to use clean, uplifting language.  However, I have to admit that a well-placed and well-timed swear word can be very effective at showing seriousness, expressing extreme emotion, or creating humor.  (I especially think it's funny when swear words are extended to as many as three syllables in a southern accent.)  Those who swear often don't know how to use swear words - they should be saved for specific circumstances.  Frequent use diminishes the true meaning behind a word.

We should not forget the other end of the spectrum:  holy words.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).  These too carry immense significance and meaning.  Some words are so sacred that they cannot be written or repeated.

Words can tear down and destroy or create and inspire.  In our everyday conversations, let’s not forget how powerful words can be, whether sacred or profane.