On the Vision and the Riddle and The Black Nazarene

(Note: Saw this while organizing files in the computer. This brings back memories. Thank you, Fr. David!)

In the aphorism On the Vision and the Riddle of Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche introduces one of his most famous ideas, the eternal recurrence. By using a riddle which features a conversation between Zarathustra and a dwarf, the German philosopher implies that time is not necessarily a one-dimensional linear path. Rather, its circular and infinite nature allows one, more specifically the Ubermensch, to appreciate the present moment and to love life itself, not something disattached to it. In the same way, one can only truly appreciate the religious exercise that is the Black Nazarene if he or she veers away from dealing too much with the past or being apprehensive of what the future holds. Truly, this idea implies that the reason behind one’s will determines how one goes about in pursuing that same will.

Nietzsche

Understanding the aphorism

In the aphorism, Nietzsche writes that Zarathustra, still feeling despair because of the realization that his love for humanity is holding him back from being the superman, finds himself aboard a ship heading to the mountains. Here, he is joined by sailors and adventurers who “take long journeys and do not want to live without danger,” making it easier for Zarathustra to befriend them, consequently breaking the “ice of his heart,” which has kept him silent for two days (176). Speaking up, he tells a riddle involving himself and a dwarf on his shoulder. The latter mocks the former by claiming that even with Zarathustra’s ascension, there will be a point in time when, similar to the way the laws of physics act on a stone, he would fall. Zarathustra, in the riddle, confronts the dwarf using the courage he describes as a pride of humanity and even a slayer of death. In fact, Zarathustra proudly claims, “Was that life? Well then! Once more!” They then move into a gateway called “Moment.” Branching out from this point are two opposite paths; one infinitely stretching to the past while the other towards the future. However, Zarathustra argues that if these paths extend infinitely, then it would be logical to assume that the events of the present have already occurred, albeit in different forms, and will continue to recur in the future. Basically, Zarathustra points out that the two paths may possibly not be eternally antithetical after all. The aphorism ends quite oddly, with a shepherd biting off the head of a snake which was choking him.

Now, it seems necessary to look into what this aphorism offers in terms of the feast of the Black Nazarene. Yes, Nietzsche comes up with this brilliant way of thinking about the relationship of time and being, but what does it all mean? More importantly, how can one apply such philosophy in trying to achieve the state of the overman?

Of course, it has been proven scientifically that the concept of the eternal return cannot physically take place. Case in point, the whole idea of the eternal recurrence is founded on the assumption that time is infinite, which, based on the laws of physics, is mathematically unsound. Time is actually finite in a sense that it should have a beginning, for if time extended back in an infinite amount of time, then the time it would take to reach the present would also be infinite. Hence, time must have a beginning for the present to even exist. The end of time, of course, is another issue still open for debate within the scientific community. Also, the doctrine falls into another scientific pit, for it is also proven by the likes of Georg Simmel (who used three wheels in an axis to prove that given an infinite amount of time, the lining up of the wheels could never take place again), that no similar thing can recur. So as not to dwell too much in this scientific analysis, one must also question the intent of Nietzsche in proposing such idea. Should this idea be even examined only on its scientific validity and bearing? Or is it more plausible to look at the doctrine in an existential perspective?

Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for None and All

If the answer to the last question is in the affirmative, then it becomes necessary to look at the other dimension involved in the aphorism--one that does not focus on the theory of the eternal return alone, but also takes into account the context in which the idea operates. Thus, one must look at how Nietzsche approaches the themes, characters, and dynamics of the riddle while at the same time incorporating the whole eternal return concept. 

Of course, the half-dwarf, half-mole creature is key to the development of the eternal recurrence. Initially, the impression of the dwarf is a negative one since it proclaims that Zarathustra would ultimately “fall down” in his quest for being the overman. In fact, Zarathustra claims that such creature is his “devil and archenemy.” In essence, the dwarf represents a Spirit of Gravity, asserting that what goes up must come down. Yet, taking into account that the dwarf is an essential factor in the influx of courage in Zarathustra, one must rethink the negativity encapsulated in the character of the dwarf. Assuredly, no one doubts that it is indeed an image of gravitation. However, this attribute itself may not necessarily be as dreadful as it may seem. Even if the dwarf oppresses Zarathustra, it also allows him to reexamine his situation: “I climbed, I climbed, I dreamed, I thought...wearied by his sore torment and reawakened from sleep by a worse dream” (177). Simply put, the dwarf, as a Spirit of Gravity, awakens one to realize that although he ascends, he must be true to himself and be courageous enough to face the facts which include falling at some point in time. Thus, even being labeled as a devil, or more precisely his (Zarathustra’s) devil, the dwarf may not be something to be treated abominably or be afraid of after all.  

In relation to the dwarf’s image, one can then surmise the value of the eternal return not as a scientifically rigid idea, but rather as a doctrine of those who dare be courageous enough to be true to the earth. Even with the knowledge that a similar suffering would eventually recur, those who take up readily the task brought about by the eternal return of the same would still truly love life. In the last part of the aphorism, Nietzsche writes about a shepherd whose neck was being choked by a snake. Realizing this and after failing to pull the serpent out of the shepherd’s neck, Zarathustra cries that the man should bite the adder’s head off. In relation to the courage necessary for facing life’s roadblocks while simultaneously loving life itself, one must be brave enough to “bite the head off” of the things which “choke” him. Although Nietzsche perhaps uses such as a symbol for Christianity, it is safe to assume that such allegory refers to the general condition of nihilistic institutions which stunt the growth of an individual. Such growth, at least according to Nietzsche, is possible if there is a full appreciation of the idea of the eternal recurrence. The idea basically proceeds from the prior Nietzschean claim of the “death of God” and pays great attention to how a person should live his life given the aforementioned circumstance of the end of an all-powerful Creator. Hence, the eternal return is, to reiterate, essentially a state where no origin and no end exists, only the recurrence of all things (since they are finite). The challenge then, for individuals, is how they would face such endlessness. One way is to view such condition as something dreadful and let it crush the self; the other is to embrace such realization and face life events the hard way, even without a teleological command. Life then becomes living to the fullest, experiencing all it has to offer; whether one gets to live it over again eternally is another concern--the point is to live it now.

On the Black Nazarene

Of course, one cannot ignore the fact that the feast of the Black Nazarene is an annual event, indicating that, although not eternally, it is recurring. It may be too negligent to state that such occurrence is a clear indication of the idea of eternal return. However, loosening the term may be acceptable given that, as already mentioned, the notion of eternal recurrence is not purely scientific.

Black Nazarene Procession, 2013

With this in mind, it is interesting to regard the event as a phenomenon which “has eternally recurred” since the 17th century. It is of great significance to note that since such event qualifies within eternal recurrence, there needs to be a focus on the actors involved, for time here is not a continuous stretch. Instead, it is a composition of units stretched and determined by human will. From the time the Recollect friars brought the image to the country, up to the present celebration of thousands of barefoot devotees, it goes to show that the choices people make matter. The Black Nazarene did not come out of thin air. By the same token, it continues to retain the spirit of the people who scream, “Viva Señor!” The feast is not only a commemoration of the past, it is also an exercise of experiencing the present.

Over 1,000 devotees swarm on Jones Bridge

With courage, participants withstand the heat, the sweat, the fatigue, and everything in between to witness the procession of the Poon. This expression of faith and courage, should not be misinterpreted as idolatry or fanaticism, for its basis remains on the concrete. In the same way the dwarf awakened Zarathustra from his misery, Filipinos must understand that the icons symbolize the Divine and are not divine themselves. The Black Nazarene epitomizes the plight of the millions of unfortunate Filipinos experiencing a wide array of socio-economic problems. Be it the pahalik or the pabihis, the gestures performed by the devotees are and should be expressions towards the concrete, not towards a blissful abyss.

In essence, the idea of the eternal return is something more than just a notion of the everlasting repetitiveness of time. It is how individuals respond to the notion that things have already happened in the past and will continue to happen in an innumerable amount of time. For individuals, it is having the option of either being fearful of such endlessness and subsequently falling into meaninglessness, or mustering enough courage to embrace life, including its hardships.

Gen Y Love

Me Me Me

Am quite the achiever

Or so I say

Me Me Me

Still capable of love?

Sure, so long as

Equated to riches, fortune, and fame

Me Me Me

I build strong relationships

Via the Internet

Liberal in my views

But of course!

Me Me Me

Hip and Cultured and True

Screw the government

Give me some pot

Smartphone selfie

Stop the wars!

Me Me Me

Serious Smoking

I started smoking just last year, after my sister influenced me into this obviously unhealthy habit. But it wasn't all her fault. From a personal standpoint, I see smoking as an evocative activity aimed at increasing my creative juices, making me feel relaxed, and providing an avenue for new friendships. Of course, I'm well aware of its negative impact to the environment, and in no way am I going to be a cigarette apologist as regards the state of our environment. A lot of my friends have already called me out, saying that smoking, really, makes no sense.

Thanks but no thanks for the warning.

Two years ago I may have agreed with them, but given the reasons I've mentioned above, I find it very difficult to break this bad habit. Whenever I have requirements for school which require both analytical and creative thinking, I feel like lady luck would favor me heavily if I light a stick of Lucky Strike. (Forgive me for the bad pun, I'm writing this without the aid of a cigarette). I guess this comes from the strikingly beautiful (there I go again, sorry) experience of smoking: the flame passing its light to the cigarette, the gentle manner upon which the filter touches one's lips, the way a slender roll of tobacco sits between two fingers, the frown a cig creates as a smoker takes a hit, and the casting off of anxiety and rigidity as one draws out smoke which suspends, and consequently, disappears in the air. (Consider Robert De Niro's famous smoking scene in Goodfellas). Oh yeah, you make a lot of smoker friends too. Even with the demise of our university's smoking area, or 'smocket' as Ateneans liked to call it, I've constantly engaged in interesting and personal discussion over a couple of cigarettes. Oh what the simple utterance of the words "tara, yosi!" can do.

The rest of the world, on the other hand, seem to regard smokers as, and maybe I'm exagerrating, the forces of evil. In countries like Singapore for example, smoking is banned in almost all places. In the United Kingdom, there is a proposal to eliminate flavored cigarettes and replace them with regular ones. And, just for good measure, the British government also wants to replace colored and labeled cig packs with generic olive-colored ones (See here). The popular alternative to the cigarette, the vape, also isn't safe from the hands of officials. Due to the lack of research concerning the safety of e-cigarettes, some places, most recently LA, have proposed banning their use, at least in places where you can't smoke cigarettes as well (Here). Here in the Philippines, the so-called sin tax, which imposes a levy on tobacco and alcohol, is already in effect.

Of course, it's not my intention to, in some way, turn things around and say that smokers are severely oppressed or anything like that. I know that some of these policies are helpful for the rest of society. The proceeds from the sin tax, for instance, go to the health insurance of those who are in need. So no, I'm not in any way portraying smokers as the victims in this one. I just find it funny how my rise to the pinnacle of cigarette smoking is met by all these anti-smoking laws all over the world. Oh well, just my luck. Tara yosi?

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Posted via Blogaway

AMDG!

Written on Friday, March 07, 2014

Today, we, the seniors of the Ateneo de Manila University Loyola Schools, had our Pabaon, an event where students, teachers, and staff can deliver their farewell messages before the students grab their diplomas from Fr. Jett's hand later this month. To say the least, I personally wasn't expecting much prior the whole thing. I thought, as I've thought time and time again when it comes to Ateneo-organized activities, that this yearly farewell ritual was just that, an annual gathering of senior students that has become insipid and well, meaningless, primarily for the administrators and teachers who hold it every year.

Every year, I thought, the teachers and organizers would simply re-hash their past statements about being "men and women for others" or living out "Magis" or doing good deeds for the greater Glory of God. But then again, at the back of my head, I thought discontinuing and/or altering this event would probably lead to student disappointment and poor evaluations. As a matter of fact, when a less nostalgic, more forward-looking version of the Pabaon was tried in 2010, students felt as if they were deceived or, in the words of a true Atenean, hassled. (See this)

But all my cynicism regarding the "realness" of the Pabaon gradually evaporated as I listened intently to some of the speeches delivered by guys who I haven't really had any personal encounters with. Ironically enough, and this may sound too mawkishly sentimental, I felt their words. I guess one factor that led to this feeling is me giving my full focus towards the speakers. In most of the Ateneo-organized forums I go to, particularly those dreaded and incomparably boring Sci10 ones, I usually just sit back, let time pass, talk to my seatmates, read class notes, or stare into blank space. This time around however, I gave my all. In my final days here in the Ateneo, I wanted to listen--something that Ateneans, in my observation, don't do much anymore.

Yep, but life goes on.

Anyway, most of the speeches, as I've already suggested, were oozing with "realness." I think what made them real derives from two things: the ability of the speaker to capture the audience and of course, the content of the speeches themselves.

The first reason comes as no surprise. Father Jett, VP Vergara, Sir Libertore, Sir Diccion (who did a good job hosting the program), and Sir Sev Sarmenta (who, by the way, is one of my favorite basketball commentators) have already gained a reputation for being well-loved by students. But even without this smooth relationship with and immense popularity among students, these people were able to deliver their speeches well, with each one having his own style. Sir Sev, unsurprisingly, went with the high-energy speech with all the jokes about Atenean behavior. Ateneans, according to Sev, are fond of using "basically," "first and foremost," and "at the end of the day" when reporting in class or taking oral exams. Even with the jokes, however, Sarmenta finished off his speech by reminding us not to forget the lessons we learned in school, and to continue helping those who are in need. Sir Libertore, a theology professor, delivered a more mellow speech, but it was equally insightful. He challenged us to embrace death, that is, not dying in the literal sense, but the demise of selfishness and the entry into the bigger national community outside Ateneo.  VP Vergara made a particularly honest comment about the mixed feelings that he has in relation to batch 2014's departure. On one hand, he said that he felt a sense of pride, especially when one considers the fact that he became vice president when we were freshmen. On the other hand, there was also a sense of apprehension as to how our batch may turn out in the future. I was struck by this, as I myself am no stranger to anxiety.

After 4 years, its meaning is a lot clearer now.

Still within the topic of apprehension, Fr. Jett's speech, to me, was the best. Anxiety has been constantly part of my psyche this past couple of years. His message gave different interpretations of the famous Jesuit creed, "Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam" or "For The Greater Glory of God." His last interpretation was quite simple yet very apt considering the condition of Ateneans today who constantly battle a state of apathy and paralysis. He said, "AMDG also stands for Ang Matakot 'Di Gagalaw." Everyone inside the Irwin Theater were, at least in my observation, suddenly in the midst of a realization. It was as if this AMDG was an elephant in the room that nobody wanted to reveal. In an institution such as the Ateneo which, in public view, caters to career-driven individuals, Father Jett made all 2,000 of us realize that out of the 20,000 applicants, we were chosen not primarily because of pure academic prowess, but because of our hearts. As such, we had and still have the potential to use the knowledge given to us and complement it with a heart that we could share with other people. To me, what Fr. Jett is trying to say is simple: live, love, and share your light to other people.

Ang Matulog 'Di Gagraduate! :)

This challenge was further driven to our hearts by the messages of some of the students' foster parents in their immersion experience. Even if I didn't get to see my Nanay Senyang onscreen, the message brought back my immersion memories. Granted that it only lasted for two days, it nonetheless is one of my most treasured experiences in college. Now that I am close to saying goodbye to college...now that I am on my way down the hill...there is one thing I'll carry with me in everything that I'll be doing in the future...AMDG!

History of ASEAN

In light of the establishment of the Asean Economic Community (AEC) in 2015, here is a brief history of how the regional organization came about.

The Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Asean) is a regional multilateral organization composed of ten countries, namely Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Brunei, Burma, Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, with the first half of the countries founding the organization in 1967. Since then, the Asean has developed into a body with regional and global clout, despite political and economic differences among its member states (Khoman).

In 1961, The Association of Southeast Asia or ASA, which some say served as a precedent for Asean, was formed by the Philippines, the Federation of Malaya, and Thailand. This loose alliance initiated a call for a more integrated regional bloc and thus, the Asean was formed on August 8, 1967 via the Bangkok Declaration. Now comprised of the ASA member states plus Indonesia and Singapore, the Asean has aimed to represent “the collective will of the nations to bind themselves together in friendship and cooperation and, through joint efforts and sacrifices, secure for their peoples and for posterity the blessings of peace, freedom and prosperity.” Its first summit occurred in 1976, with member countries promising non-interference when it comes to domestic matters through the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation (TAC) (Flores and Abad).

In the following years, the Asean drove towards further expansion and integration. In 1984, Brunei Darussalam joined the organization a week after gaining its independence. This increase in membership carried over in the 1990s, with Vietnam joining in 1995, Laos and Burma in 1997, and Cambodia in 1999. This decade also saw security and economic integration, with the signing of the Common Effective Preferential Tariff (CEPT), a framework for the Asean Free Trade Area (AFTA), in 1992 and the creation of the Asean Regional Forum (ARF), a long-term security dialogue between Asean members and other countries which has aimed to solve conflicts by peaceful means and preventative diplomacy, in 1994. The following year also saw the ratification of the Nuclear Weapon Free-Zone Treaty (Khoman).

At the turn of the 21st century, the Asean confronted a new chapter in its history, facing new issues and new challenges. One of these is the growing concern on climate change. In 2002, the regional organization signed the Agreement on Transboundary Haze Pollution, which proved to be unsuccessful given the Southeast Asian haze in 2006. In 2005, the Asean Wildlife Enforcement Network (AWEN) was formed, promoting regional inter-agency and inter-governmental initiative to counter the illegal cross-border trade in endangered flora and fauna. Finally, in 2007, the Cebu Declaration on East Asia Energy, sought to promote energy security and find energy alternatives to conventional fuels (Letchumanan 52-53).

Also, the 2000s, with the growing emphasis on globalization, saw the focus of Asean on developing its international legal and economic presence. To consolidate its international reputation, the Asean held its first East Asia Summit (EAS) in 2005. This annual meeting of leaders of 18 countries (from East Asia, plus Russia and the US) aims to improve existing ties among its participants. The next year, the Aseas was given an observer status at the UN General Assembly and in 2007, the Asean adopted its own constitution, the Asean charter, further creating an image of itself as an international legal entity. In terms of economic development and integration, the Asean has stayed loyal to its goal increasing the region’s competitive advantage as a production base geared for the world market. Some examples of this effort towards making Asean a full-scale economic entity are free trade agreements with countries like Australia and New Zealand in 2009, and the launching of the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) in 2012.

This desire to accelerate economic integration is far from over. Looking ahead, the Asean is seeking to pursue a European Union-style single market which involves scraping tariffs and liberalising trade and the movement of labor and capital. In 2015, the regional organization aims to create the Asean Economic Community, which, some suggest, is the most important of the three pillars of the Asean Community.  Its aims are: (1) to create a single market and production base, (2) to develop a highly competitive economic region, (3) to foster equitable economic development, and (4) to create a region fully integrated to the global economy (“Asean Economic Community”).

Needless to say, this creation of an economic community within the region is of severe importance to the rest of the world. The Asean region represents one of biggest markets in the world with its more than 600 million young and dynamic population. It has a combined Gross Domestic Product (GDP) of $2.3 billion and an average per capita GDP of $3,751.However, some critics say that the Asean is still not equipped with the right tools for full economic integration. Aside from the fact that Southeast Asia is composed of economically and politically different countries, Asean is having a difficult time following its own blueprint for economic integration for 2015.

Road to Law School

After a lot of suggestive comments from my family regarding what I'll do after college, I must say that writing this piece is a bit of a challenge. At first I was hesitant because of the fact that going to law school has been rubbed in my face time and time again, plus the fact that I really don't know yet whether I passed the entrance test or not (so far I only took the ALS exam; results are out in April). But since I have, for the longest time, wanted to get this thing off my chest, I'm finally writing about it.

Which begs the question: what exactly about law school, considering the abovementioned dilemmas, am I going to write? Ah you see, this piece actually is, as you might've already guessed, a way for me to blow off steam and release all my current frustrations with post-college life. My family has constantly made me feel like being a 'success' is the be-all and end-all of man's existence. Quite frankly, I kind of am annoyed. And God knows how patient I am when it comes to family. (In fact, see blog post on 'Family Matters').

Anyway, here are some of the things I hear every now and then from people, mostly family, regarding how I should run my future:

“Oh iho, graduate ka na niyan, tuluy-tuloy na sa Ateneo niyan ha?”

“Bukod sa pagiging pre-law course ng political science, ano pa'ng pwedeng trabahong makuha mo? Journalist? Teacher? Naku, walang pera dun.”

“O eto, libro ni Scott Turow tungkol sa first year niya sa Harvard Law, basahin mo. It’s one of the best legal fiction around.”

“Ah, ikaw ba anak ni attorney (my mom)? May bagong abogado na naman tayo sa pamilya.”

“Naku ang aga mong gagraduate ha? Pero four years pa niyan sa law school.”

There are many more, but as you can infer from some of these allusive statements, my future is, in one way or another, already mapped out. In my estimations, prematurely. Because of these, I have anxiously experienced lingering thoughts of how I’m supposed to make them proud, fulfil my duty, and carry on with the family tradition. These words, instead of giving me the courage to overcome my fears and helping me grow as a person, have only paralyzed me and have sort of given me an instinctive urge to rebel. The road to law school may already be set, but unfortunately, this knucklehead seems to still be looking for other routes..

An Historical View of Jose Donoso's "Paseo"

This my final paper for my Third World Literature class.

Jose Donoso’s short story entitled Paseo reveals the isolationist life of a family in mid-twentieth-century Chile, a situation which goes hand in hand with the lives of the Chilean people under strict military rule and a conservative regime. The suppression of dissent which occurred in Chile during this time is captured by the story’s conclusion, wherein the narrator’s Aunt Mathilda, the character who embraces her freedom and who breaks away from the lifeless status quo, dies. However, this death, as was the dullness of the restrictive life in Chile, is met with silence; life, with all its meaning exhausted, goes on.

Written in 1959, Paseo captures the rigidity of Chilean life, particularly that of a family, in the twentieth century. During this period, Chile experienced being ruled by military officials and politicians who, while calling themselves reformists, perpetuated conservatism in Chile (Rector 133-154).A culture of conservatism, nationalism, and counterrevolutionary thought and practice thus prevailed from the 1900s until the 1950s, a period which is partially ignored due to the more notorious authoritarian regime of Augusto Pinochet in the 70s.

Although this socio-political context is not Donoso’s primary basis for writing the story, it nonetheless provides the reader with the dynamics of Chile as a country, which affects all units of society, from the individual to, in this short story’s case, the family. In an interview, Donoso admits the somewhat minor influence of sociology, history, and/or politics to his writing. He states that this “compulsion to explain and to place ourselves [Latin American writers] in a historic, sociological context...is very strong, and sometimes I think it mars many novels in Latin America which could have been much better if they have not been so explicitly sociological” (Leiva 178). Yet, even if the themes of his works revolve around memories of a family, he sees himself as a writer who is part of a bigger world: “I consider myself...a very small thing, and then something bigger which is Chilean, and then something which is bigger still which is Latin American, and then something which is bigger still, which is let’s say the world. I can’t separate all these planes of existence, all of them are me” (Leiva 176). Given this approach, Donoso’s Paseo can still be viewed within the realm of Chilean society and politics.

In this analysis, it is of great importance to put emphasis on the characters and the symbols used by Donoso to deliver his message. Almost serendipitously, this message coincides with the larger reality of lifelessness, rigidity, and conservatism experienced by the Chileans in the first half of the 1900s.

Looking at the characters, one can see the different paths taken by Mathilda and her brothers; the former “shuns her routine existence to descend into the animalistic night world accompanied by a stray dog” while the latter continue to exist in silence and  lifeless perfection (Feal 53). Prior to Mathilda’s freedom from the shackles of an all-too-predictable way of living, both she and her brothers operate in a space of rigidity and propriety. All emotions are bottled up, therefore rendering love as an expression which is unnecessary and even dangerous. Thus, Donoso notes that this tenderness “found itself stylized now in the form of certain actions, useful symbols which did not require further elucidation” (615). In short, being secure, “to be neither hungry nor cold nor uncomfortable,” is given far more importance than embracing one’s liberty (616).

This tension between security and liberty becomes truly visible when Mathilda decides to go for walks with the dog she harvests a relationship with. Mathilda now yearns for freedom, lives a life in the streets, and truly engages with ‘the other.’ Her brothers, meanwhile, bury their feelings, continue to live in comfort, and remain apathetic. The path taken by the aunt certainly breaks the mold which has always been offered to her by her lifeless world. Indeed, it is a new life, the exact opposite of her brothers’ lives, a world “without anything fortuitous and unexpected” (617).

These different paths or types of personalities are, of course, parallel to historical realities. The fact that initially, the whole family is subjected to a life of adherence to proper decorum may refer to the events in 1925-27, wherein the powers of the presidency were increased and General Ibanez established a dictatorship (Rector 132). Needless to say, the lives of the Chileans during this time made it riskier for them to go against law and order. In the story, the narrator prays that his father Pedro, who, with the rest of the family were playing an ‘orderly’ game of billiards, “would rebel against the order,” but to no avail. There simply are severe repercussions for those who dissent. Under a strict government, the Chileans, particularly those who held demonstrations in the late 1920s, were repressed by the conservatives and the military, which led to the Marusia and La Coruna Massacres (Collier 212).

A sense of hope glimmered in the late 1930s leading up to the 40s, when the Chilean leftist groups formed a Popular Front coalition and introduced new economic policies leaning towards social programs (Rector 151-152). This turn against restrictive law and order imposed by the military regime coincides with Mathilda’s character taking the path against the status quo. Evidently, Mathilda’s newfound spirit, a departure from security and comfort, brought “an animation in her eyes, an excited restlessness like that in the eyes of an animal” (627). As mentioned earlier, however, this act of freedom poses severe consequences. Much like how the communists were eventually banned by the right-wingers in the 1950s, Mathilda meets her end after being out in the streets. The installation of Gen. Ibanez, a nebulous and vacillating political figure, created an atmosphere of uncertainty and rigidity. Thus, and much like how the story ends, silence continued to prevail.

Of course, to further deepen one’s understanding of how the story plays within historical, social, and political events, it is necessary to focus on the different symbols found in Paseo. Most of Donoso’s works employ symbols which correspond to the disintegration of order. In this essay, the symbols of the house, which trapped the characters in a sense of order, and the dog, which triggered a kind of disintegration, are looked upon.

Going back to Mathilda’s rebellion, one can see how her relationship with the dog may epitomize solidarity with the poor. The dog, of course, with its description as an animal which is “sick and filthy” or something that simply “did not exist” heavily complements the image of those belonging to the lower strata of Chilean society (618-620). The narrator’s family, on the other hand, with their comfortable way of living based on their duty to maintain a misconstrued idea of perfection, might very well represent the bourgeoisie. Chile’s society, in the period leading up to the time when Paseo was written, had been deeply divided and was enduring an atmosphere of isolation. National industrialization in Chile led to massive urban migration and deep social inequalities (Torche 427). The relationship between the filthy white bitch and the all-too-proper family, ironically reveals the sameness between them, a sameness which is masked by societal differences. Inequality, at least from a historical view of Paseo, can only be abolished through solidarity, as Mathilda finds her equal and as the immobility of the dog enables the family to move and feel again (122-124).

As in most of his novels, Donoso operates within the theme of the ultra-secure life of the upper class, wherein some of the characters, like Mathilda, veer away from their crumbling homes in order to see the world fully, and, with all its simplicity, to live (Leiva 178-179). In light of this, the house itself serves as a good symbol of Chile as a country. In both, “what took place...was...an absence, a lack, which because it was unacknowledged was irremediable, something that, if it weighed, weighed by not existing” (615). While there is an acknowledgement of the possibility of a different reality, this exterior world, in the story, is filtered by windows, walls, fences, and thick doors. For the family, if the house they dwell into is ‘heaven,’ then mistaken thoughts of an alternative reality must always be corrected. The house appears to be complete and absolute; there is precisely no use in immersing oneself to the uncomfortable outside world. The effect of this kind of suffocation, for Donoso, is simply emotional coldness, the absence of any form of feeling. Given the fact that most historians consider this period in Chilean history as relatively stable, it is perhaps reasonable to assume that this historical quietism is indicative of the isolation of most people during that era. In a sense, the people were trapped in a culture of rigidity, much like how the narrator’s family is stuck within the confines of their home. From a personal standpoint, Donoso states that he “has been so rooted to a place absolutely and completely” but even if he belongs to a house, he “had to fight against a milieu which was reflected in these houses”  (Leiva 177).

Donoso seems to suggest, therefore, the necessity of going outside and making contact with the ‘other’ to break away from a lifeless world of security. This desire of being able to release oneself is incidentally concurrent with the political events that took place within the timeframe of when the short story was written. Perhaps, as one final point of analysis, the title ‘Paseo,’ which means ‘walk’ is an invitation to live, and not just exist comfortably. And to justify the contents of this paper, perhaps this theme of going outside is parallel to an analysis of Paseo as a story which goes beyond just psychological and universal themes. It is, in a way, still a narrative which is in touch with history.

WORKS CITED

Collier, Simon and William F. Sater. A History of Chile 1808-2002. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Print.

Feal, Rosemary. “In My End Is My Beginning: Jose Donoso’s Sense of an Ending.” Chasqui 17.2 (1988): 46-55. Print.

Rector, John. The History of Chile. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Print.

Torche, Florencia. “Unequal But Fluid: Social Mobility in Chile in Comparative Perspective.” American Sociological Review  70.3 (2005): 422-450. Print.