The Sacrifice of Chac-Mool

21chac_mool

When I first started reading this play, I was intrigued by Chac-Mool’s name. I thought to myself that this name must have a special meaning behind it. I thought, maybe a God. However this is not the case.

The statue of the Chacmool was first found in 1875  by Augustus Le Plungeon. After this, many other Chacmools were found throughout Mexico. “The earliest examples date from the Terminal Classic period of Mesoamerican chronology (c. AD 800–900). Examples are known from the Postclassic Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan, from the central Mexican city of Tula and from the Maya city of Chichen Itza in the Yucatán Peninsula.Further examples are known from Acolman, Cempoala, Michoacan, Querétaro and Tlaxcala” (Wikipedia). The Chacmool was used during sacrifice rituals. It is believed by archeologist that Chacmool was used as an offering table. Food such as fruits, tortillas, and tamales were placed on his plate. Another theory is that the heart of a person being sacrificed was placed on the plate held by Chacmool. Chacmool was known as an intermediary between humans and the Gods. As I was reading Hungry Woman A Mexican Medea by Cherrie Moraga I kept in mind what Chacmool meant to the indigenous people of Mexico.

Medea didn’t want to let go of Chac-Mool. Medea might be viewed as a selfish woman who was only thinking about herself. In act two, scene four, there is a conversation between Chac-Mool and Medea. Medea and Chac-Mool argue about him going away to Aztlan with his father, Jason. Medea feels that because he is a man, Chac-Mool will be ruined by manhood.

Chac-Mool: I want to be initiated, Mama.

Medea: You want to cut open your chest?…(Grabbing a letter opener from the table) Then start your initiation right here…Cut open your mother’s chest first! Dig out her heart with your hands because that’s what they’ll teach you, to despise a mother’s love, a woman’s touch–

Chac-Mool: I won’t do that.

Medea: You say that because you’re still young. Your manhood, the size of acorns. When you feel yourself grown and hard as oak, you’ll forget.

Medea feels that once he becomes a man, Chac-Mool won’t love her the same way, especially if he moves out with his father. Medea feels as though she is going to be “sacrificed” by her own son. This made me think about Chacmool, the statue because hearts were placed on his plate. Medea feels as if her son is going to rip her heart out. Because of this, Medea decides to sacrifice her son instead. I find it ironic that Medea called her son Chac-Mool and later on sacrifices him, since in indigenous culture Chacmool was the warrior who sacrifices were placed on.

 

“Chacmool.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 22 Feb. 2014.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chacmool#Dating_and_origin

Moraga, Cherríe, Irma Mayorga, and Cherríe Moraga. The Hungry Woman. Albuquerque, NM: West End, 2001. Print.

Image: http://www.fuertedesandiego.inah.gob.mx/images/stories/salas_permanentes/salas_arqueol/maya/original/21chac_mool

 

The Many Faces of Corn

Red Corncorn_dakota_blackWhite CornBlueChicano Chavez Cornxilonen

As discussed in class and as Dr. Perez noted, corn is significant in The Hungry Woman and in indigenous cultures of the Americas. Corn is of the earth, and corn is life. As Dr. Perez pointed out, the Cihuatateo (El Coro) in The Hungry Woman are not only identified by the four directions, but also the four primary colors of Pre-Columbian culture. These colors could possibly symbolize various types of corn. The above images of the colored corn noted for El Coro: EAST (Red), NORTH (Black), WEST (White), and SOUTH (Blue) (Moraga 8). There is also an image of a mural by Roy Villalobo, who depicts Cesar Chavez emerging from a corn stalk, and his arm has become a cob of corn. Corn is of the earth and corn is life. The final image is of the powerful Aztec corn goddess, Xilonen. She is generally found holding a double ear of corn in each hand.

The Maize Project at the University of Georgia notes the great diversity found in corn. They state, “One of the major sites that preserve the genetic varieties of corn is the US Department of Agriculture’s Plant Introduction Station in Ames, Iowa. They hold 19,780 different samples or “accessions” of corn from around the world. The diversity of corn found in those accessions reflects physical differences in seed color, shape and texture, but also the physiological differences that make some varieties suited to growing in desert environments or the wet tropics. These seeds hold the genes that have accumulated through natural and human selection over hundreds or even thousands of years” (http://maize.uga.edu/index.php?loc=diversity). Both in historical and contemporary times, the type of corn that is grown in a particular region is determined by its ability to grow in those specific conditions, as well as the people’s purpose for the crop. In addition to yellow, white, and red varieties, this site also has images of Oaxacan Green, which is a variety grown by Zapotecs, the multicolored Acoma Pueblo, and the Hopi Blue. There are also heirloom and thousands of hybrid varieties. Landraces are among the oldest varieties of corn, found in the Mexican highlands.

In The Hungry Woman, Medea yearns for her Aztlan homeland, where a mestiza with a substantial amount of indigenous blood can claim her inheritance. This tie to the mestiza consciousness, indigeneity, and yearning for a homeland, also have strong ties to corn. In Our Lady of Guadalupe: Faith and Empowerment among Mexican-American Women, Jeanette Rodriguez (2005) quotes the late Gloria Anzaldua, “‘Indigenous like corn, like corn, the mestiza is a product of crossbreeding, designed for preservation under a variety of conditions. Like an ear of corn–a female seed-bearing organ–the mestiza is tenacious, tightly wrapped in the husks of her culture. Like kernels she clings to the cob; with thick stalks and strong brace roots, she holds tight to the earth–she will survive the crossroads'” (62).

 

Works Cited:

Moraga, Cherrie L. The Hungry Woman. Albuquerque: West End Press, 2001. Print.

Rodriguez, Jeanette. Our Lady of Guadalupe: Faith and Empowerment among Mexican-American Women. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2005. Print.

University of Georgia Maize Project: http://maize.uga.edu/index.php?loc=diversity

 

Images Used:

Red Corn Image: http://foodblogga.blogspot.com/2008/09/edible-red-corn-on-cob.html

White Corn Image: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QnwYStOcWGE/TEgmbHtb1tI/AAAAAAAABo4/U-FJhyovWac/s1600/cornmd.jpg

Black Corn Image: http://www.seedsofchange.com/seedswfs/corn_dakota_black.jpg

Blue Corn Image: http://www.bubblews.com/assets/images/news/81865047_1381640140.JPG

Cesar Chavez Mural Artist: Roy Villalobo

Cesar Chavez Mural Image: http://i117.photobucket.com/albums/o45/karrie_026/CESAR-CHAVEZ-ART1.jpg

Aztec Corn Goddess Xilonen Image: http://www.paganspace.net/photo/1342861:Photo:264535?context=user

Revulsion, Corpses and the Abject

 

Abject

 

Julia Kristeva defines the abject as, “the human reaction (horror, vomit) to a threatened breakdown in meaning caused by the loss of the distinction between subject and object or between self and other. The primary example for what causes such a reaction is the corpse (which traumatically reminds us of our own materiality); however, other items can elicit the same reaction: the open wound, shit, sewage, even the skin that forms on the surface of warm milk” (Dino). Yet, even though we are repulsed by the abject, we are also drawn to it or even desire it. It acts as a catharsis. In a perverse way, we are drawn to the abject as a way to protect us from it. Literature gives the reader a safe way to experience this. It reminds me of Helena Maria Viramontes story, “The Moths”. In it, the protagonist, a young girl, bathes her recently deceased grandmother as a way to purify and show her respect. What might be mildly uncomfortable for the reader turns into repulsion, because the granddaughter gets in the bathtub with her grandmother to wash her. It’s the close proximity to death that creates this disturbing, skin crawling feeling. She also describes her aged body in great detail. Yet, it gives the reader catharsis to experience death and its attendant feelings from a distance. The grandmother is the abject body. The reader might feel revulsion, but we also know that we will meet the same fate. If things go “well”, our corpse will also be the aged body.

Works Cited

Dino, Felluga. “”Modules on Kristeva: On the Abject.” Introductory Guide to Critical Theory.” 21 February 2014. Purdue University. 2014. <http://www.purdue.edu/guidetotheory/psychoanalysis/kristevaabject.html>.

 

 

 

“Mama” and La Llorona


As we continued to read The Hungry Woman and discuss La Llorona tales, a specific movie came to mind. I’m sure you have all heard of the horror movie Mama, released in 2013. (If not, the movie trailer is below). This movie tells the tale of a woman, who drowned herself and her baby in order to escape from a psychiatric hospital. Her ghost remained in a cabin deep in the woods, as she came across two lost, orphaned children. She cares for the children as if they were her own, protecting them from any outsiders that may take them away.

The most distinct parallels I found between the movie and La Llorona, was the element of drowning children and the element of salvation. As discussed in class, many stories we hear today concerning mother’s killing their children involves salvation. They are either saving them from someone, or someone they might become. In the story of The Hungry Woman, Medea killed her son in order to save him from his fate of becoming a man. As Chac-Mool tells his mother he wants to be initiated, she states, “Dig out her heart with your hands because that’s what they’ll teach you, to despise a mother’s love, a woman’s touch.” (74). Medea does not want him to become a cold hearted man, but remain a sweet, innocent boy. She sees death as his only salvation.

It was interesting being able to make this parallel, as when I first saw the movie, I had no idea it had connections to a Chicano/a tale named La Llorona. Can you think of any other movies that may correlate to the tales of La Llorona? What spin is put on the modern version that is not found in the traditional story?

Mama Movie Trailer (2013)

La Llorona: A Mexican Medea

The mixing of Aztec mythology, and Greek mythology in Cherrie L. Moraga’s “The Hungry Woman: A Mexican Medea” really peaked my interest. Especially the similarity between the two myths that intertwine almost to perfectly. Because there are so many variations of La Llorona, for this reason it is difficult to pin-point one universally known narrative. That being said, the story of La Llorona, the wailing woman, has existed for centuries, dating back to the time of the Aztecs, who referred to this apparition as  the Cihuateteo. In Aztec culture woman who died in child-birth, like fallen soldiers, were highly regarded, as child-birth was considered a battle. These woman, would be “transformed into hummingbirds and follow the sun on its eternal journey through the sky”(Ramos). However, occasionally one of these woman would transform back into a strange apparition and haunt the land of the Aztec, waiting at crossroads to find a replacement for there loss during childbirth (Ibid). This early, La Llorona narrative is similar to the way, Medea is haunted by the loss of her son Chac-Mool, haunted so strongly that she even believes to see him. As she sits in the mental institution, she like the Cihuateteo mentioned earlier is yearning to replace what she has lost. Around the same time period as the Cihuateteo, we have another La Llorona narrative, this is the version I was told, and was able to find in an essay by Bacil Kirtley,

“She was a pretty but humble maiden named Luisa, with whom a rich young man of high society fell in love. He did not marry her, but according to custom furnished a casita, a love nest, for here, where they were happy for many years. His friends visited and respected her, and they had three children. Finally his family prevailed upon him to marry a girl of his own class. He told luisa he was going to marry and she made a scene; he stopped visiting here. She was an univited guest at his wedding in the big cathedral. She came home maddend with grief and sen a dagger into the tender bodies of each of her children, one after another. Then, horror stricken, she ran wildly through the streets, calling for her little ons, sending terror into the hearts of all who heard her.” (156)

This narrative, similar to The Hungry Woman play shows the downward spiral of a strong woman. In the play, Medea seems to live a decent life, although she is residing in the land of the banished. She has the love of her partner Luna, and son. But as the title suggest this is not enough, her insatiability leads her down a more destructive path. Like Euripides’ Medea, Moraga’s Medea, in spite of her husband Jason’s love to another woman slays her young son, Chac-mool. But Moraga’s Medea like La Llorona, soon realizes her transgression and must wander the realm of her dreams and thoughts trying to make sense of it all. Like La Llorona, the Greek Medea, who this character closely mirrors, seeks her lost child.

I found this rather fascinating because the Greeks and the Aztecs were literally a world apart, yet both cultures have a myth so similar in composition. The story of a horrendous act of empowerment or of madness. It would be interesting to see if this Greek myth could have been brought over during the Spanish Conquest and adopted by the Aztec’s as there religious tendencies often involved the absorption of other practices and deities.

 

Works Cited:

Gonzalez, Tanya. “THE (GOTHIC) GIFT OF DEATH in Cherríe               Moraga’s “The Hungry Woman: A Mexican Medea                (2001).” Chicana/ Latina Studies 7.1 (2007): 44-77. Web.

Kirtley, Bacil F. “”La Llorona” and Related Themes.” Western            Folklore 19.3 (1960): 155-68. Web.

Ramos, Octavio. “Monster of the Week: Cihuateteo.”                                Examiner.com. Web.

 

A Different Interpretation: The Abject and the Uncanny

 

walkingdead.wikia.com

walkingdead.wikia.com

As I always defined “uncanny” to myself as mysterious or out of the ordinary, after doing some research I have found a perspective that is more relevant to our class discussions, especially with regards to traditional gothic motifs. In his The Uncanny, Sigmund Freud defines the uncanny as “Something that was long familiar with the psyche and was estranged from it only through being repressed” (Introduction xlii), and goes on to discuss how the uncanny deals specifically with “our own cultures past that haunts us.” For Freud, the uncanny is something that sits in the back of our mind — always something that we are unsure about; and something that we never feel comfortable confronting; such as something repressed that occurred during one’s childhood. This closely relates to our discussion of the gothic because Freud interprets uncanny in a dark and unsettling way; similar to the common themes of gothic literature (e.g., dealing with infanticide, rape, murder).

With regards to the abject, I found an interesting, although disturbing, article pertaining to the abjection of women during (more historic) warfare. In Bulent Diken’s Becoming Abject: Rape as a Weapon of War, Diken investigates how rape has been used traditionally to disrupt the opposing side’s solidarity and unity. Diken writes, “Through an analysis of the way rape was carried out by the predominantly paramilitary Serbian forces on Bosnian soil, this article theorizes a two-fold practice of abjection: through war rape an abject is introduced within the woman’s body (sperm or forced pregnancy), transforming her into an abject-self rejected by the family, excluded by the community and quite often also the object of a self-hate, sometimes to the point of suicide.” This is a type of forced-abjection — being stigmatized via rape into the “other.” Whereas we see Medea “othered” through her sexuality, here we see a perspective that one can be forcibly othered by an opposing group. Abject seems to be closely related to the corrupted, ruined, tainted, and exiled. This parallels Medea’s condition, as well as the Gothicism of being ‘different’ from others; such as Concepcion, Ultima, and Medea

Cited:

Diken. “Becoming Abject: Rape as a Weapon of War.” Becoming Abject: Rape as a Weapon of War. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Feb. 2014.
Freud, Sigmund, David McLintock, and Hugh Haughton. The Uncanny. New York: Penguin, 2003. Print.

Cherrie Moraga Discusses Identity


I found this video online in which Cherrie discusses her own identity as a queer chicana. She gives her own definition of the term “chicano/a” which I found interesting since we are working to form a definition of the term as a class. She see’s it as a “political term” that was coined during the movement of the 60’s (the time that she was coming of age). She also see’s it as a way to identify yourself as indigenous to the Americas. She also discusses her childhood in the video, which was what she describes as typical to most Mexican Americans. Her mother is also a chicana, born in the United States.

Both of these factors heavily influenced her writing. Through them she was able to find her own original voice. The video also includes images from a production of “The Hungry Woman.” These images are helpful because they allow us to see how the set of the play was intended to look. More of these images can be found on www.cherriemoraga.com

Magic in Greek and Roman Myth

While searching for more history on the witch Medea, of whom the play The Hungry Woman is heavily based on, I came across an article discussing the origin of “magic” in Greek works, specifically related to the most powerful witches of the culture. The work opens by discussing the significance of Medea throughout literature, as well as her counterpart Circe, who attempted to ensnare Odysseus in The Odyssey. Both these women represent what could be called a femme fatale; they are renowned and feared for their power, and use both their sexuality and mastery over magic to gain a place in a world typically controlled by men.

The work discusses the fact that Circe’s use of magic, or pharamakon, is the first recorded use of magic by a female. In addition, this magic is seen with sexual connotations, as it enables Circe to have a “stable of men permanently attached to her side.” This then demonstrates that their is a fear of women and their sexuality, as the first time the power of magic is given to a woman, she uses it to capture men. This then shows an understanding of women as inherently sexual, especially magic users. This could be extrapolated to apply to Medea in The Hungry Woman, who has unique sexual appetites (being lesbian) in a world that decries her choices. In this way, one can note how views of women, especially those who have an inherent level of power, often frighten men, and can be seen as evil figures based on their intent. This then plays into the difference between a currandera or healer, and a witch. As Medea uses her magic for evil, like some women before her, she is classified as a witch, and not a healer.

One can therefore note the source material that The Hungry Woman draws from, as well as the ways in which is has influenced the character of Medea.

Works Cited:
Turkilsen, Debbie. “An Examination of Ancient Greek and Roman Witches Through Literature.”Academia.edu. Academia.edu. Web. 20 Feb 2014. <http://www.academia.edu/3672405/An_Examination_of_Ancient_Greek_and_Roman_Witches_throughout_Literature>.