SOURCE: Murad, Timothy. “Animal Imagery and Structural Unity in Mariano Azuela's Los de Abajo.” Journal of Spanish Studies: Twentieth Century 7, no. 2 (fall 1979): 207-22.

[In the following essay, Murad examines Azuela's use of animal imagery in Los de abajo, observing that the liberal use of animal references is both a way to convey the savagery of the Mexican revolution and as a means of providing structural unity in the narrative.]

Animal imagery abounds in Los de abajo (1916), Azuela's portrayal of the Mexican Revolution as seen through the rise and fall of Demetrio Macías and his band of guerrillas. Critics have noted its presence in the novel and have observed that the author's frequent use of animal references in his descriptions of characters is a means of conveying the savagery of the Revolution and the dehumanization of those who participate in it.¹ Animal imagery, however, performs the additional function of contributing to the structural unity of the novel.² Through repetition, animal images become significant symbols that, while illuminating characters, also add emphasis to various stages in the development of the story.

The most prevalent animal image in Los de abajo is the horse. This is only natural because the charro mystique (the ideal of the expert horseman on a spirited mount) runs deep in the Mexican psyche.³ Moreover, it is closely associated with the Revolution, particularly with the forces of Pancho Villa which, in the novel, Demetrio and his men eventually join. Further, the charro mystique is celebrated in the canción ranchera, and Demetrio and his men, who are rancheros, are portrayed several times singing rancheras. In Los de abajo descriptions of horses, their actions, and the way horse and rider affect one another appear at key points. They contribute to the progression of the narrative and aid in endowing events with a significance greater than that provided by the bare requirements of the story.

The first presence of horses is a disruptive one, disturbing the tranquility of the night. At the beginning of the novel, the sound of horses' hooves causes Palomo, Demetrio's dog, to bark, eventually driving him to a frenzy. Mounted on horseback, the federal soldiers (who at the end of the first chapter burn Demetrio's house) appear inmmediately after the shot which kills Palomo rings out. These horses, while bearers of destruction for Demetrio's world, give confidence to the federales and are a source of bravura for them. The federal lieutenant declares that he is not afraid to be in Limón, the land of Demetrio, because of his good mount: “‘si he de irme al infierno, nunca mejor que ahora …, que voy en buen caballo.’”⁴

Demetrio's victory by ambush over federal troops in their first encounter is foreshadowed by the insignificance of the federales and their horses, described as “hombres diminutos en caballos de miniatura” (p. 12), with which, exclaims Pancracio, the revolutionaries will “play.” In effect, as the fight progresses it takes on a festive air and the toy-like federal soldiers and horses become targets in a shooting gallery: “—Mi cinturón de cuero si no le pego en la cabeza al del caballo prieto. …—Viente tiros de máuser y media vara de chorizo porque me dejes tumbar al de la potranca mora” (pp. 14-15). The federales, losing the battle, either turn tail, “vuelven grupas resueltamente” (p. 14), or abandon their horses.

It is after this encounter, in which Demetrio is wounded, that the first mention of the revolutionaries' horses is made: “Los federales habían regresado, y Demetrio recuperaba todos sus caballos, escondidos en la sierra” (p. 15). It is difficult to determine whether the sentence refers to the horses of Demetrio and his men, or to those of the federal soldiers.⁵ While the first is the more likely case (because of the meaning of “recuperar”), either reading explains the origin of the horse that Demetrio, shortly, can no longer ride because of his wound: “Ya no pudo montar su caballo” (p. 16).

Horse imagery underscores the ever greater participation of Demetrio and his men in the Revolution. In the mountain village, after Demetrio's wound has healed, Luis Cervantes uges that they join Pánfilo Natera and thus the mainstream of the Revolution. In order to do so it is necessary to round up “buenas bestias para emprender de nuevo la marcha” (p. 41). (Azuela's elliptical structuring of the novel provides no information about the horses recovered after the initial skirmish; the reader is left to infer that, perhaps, they were unfit or insufficient in number.) When Demetrio and his men leave the village, María Antonia, who sees them in the distance, shouts “‘parecen juguetes de rinconera’” (p. 49). This establishes a link with the “caballos de miniatura” of the federal soldiers in the first encounter⁶ and is suggestive of the revolutionaries' small number and their relative unimportance in the Revolution at this point, prior to joining Natera. The description of their horses as “escuetos jamelgos” (p. 50), further emphasizes their insignificance.

Despite the sorry state of these “nags,” however, Demetrio, active and on the march, feels rejuvenated on his horse: “En su caballo zaino Demetrio se sentía rejuvenecido” (p. 50). For the first time in the novel Demetrio's horse is individualized as a “caballo zaino.” The dark red of the horse, evoking fieriness, strength, passion, and potency,⁷ seems to transmit itself, along with its evocative qualities, to Demetrio, whose eyes recover their “brillo metálico peculiar” (p. 50) and whose “sangre roja y caliente” (p. 50) once again courses through him. In this passage Demetrio, linked to the primitive potency of the horse, is further characterized as an “indígena de pura raza” (p. 50). Three subsequent allusions to Aztec or indigenous origins (pp. 72, 89, 138) are also closely associated with horses. As they gallop their horses, Demetrio and his men seem to be infused with limitless power: “Y hacían galopar sus caballos, como si en aquel correr desenfrenado pretendieran posesionarse de toda la tierra” (p. 50). The unrestrained gallop intoxicates them with life: “Cantaban, reían y ululaban, ebrios de sol, de aire y de vida” (p. 51). This invigorating burst of energy is, however, rhythmically followed by a sapping of strength and fatigue: “La algarabía cesó cuando el sol los fue aturdiendo” (p. 51). Emphasizing the close relationship between horse and rider, the enervation of the men extends to their horses, described at the end of the chapter (Chapter XV) as “agotadas recuas” having “ijares enjutados” (p. 52). This recalls the “escuetos jamelgos” of the beginning of the chapter and establishes an ascendant-descendant (yet still progressive) movement in the description of the horses, which in turn echoes the physical movement of the march of the revolutionaries: “Todo el día caminaron por el cañón, subiendo y bajando cerros redondos” (p. 51). Animal imagery thus complements the recurrent motif of up and down movement evident from the beginning of the novel.⁸

Horses and horse imagery are central elements in the description of Demetrio's storming of the heights of La Bufa at Zacatecas, the culmination of the ascendant first part of the novel. At the beginning of the chapter (XXI) Cervantes is knocked from his horse, picked up by a mounted revolutionary, and is again thrown to the ground along with the other rider. Cervantes' ineffectiveness in the battle is thus mirrored in his twice being unhorsed. This is emphasized when he explains his presence in his hiding place to Solís in their chance meeting on the battlefield: “—Me tiró el caballo; … ¿Qué podía yo hacer?” (p. 70).

Demetrio's bravery and superb horsemanship stand in striking contrast to Cervantes' incompetence. Solís, in a frankly admiring tone that differs from his previous cynicism, describes Demetrio's bravery in storming La Bufa to Cervantes: “‘sin esperar ni pedir órdenes a nadie, gritó:—¡Arriba, muchachos! … ¡Qué bárbaro!—clamé asombrado’” (p. 71). It is at this highpoint of the novel that Demetrio's horse, in Solís' description, is radically transformed: “‘El caballo de Macías, cual si en vez de pesuñas hubiese tenido garras de águila, trepó sobre estos peñascos’” (p. 71).⁹ The association of eagle's claws with the horse's hooves suggests the fighting strength of that bird and the image of a winged horse. And Demetrio, triumphant on his soaring steed, shares its primitive might as he defies the enemies' machine guns: “’Demetrio lazaba las ametralladoras, tirando de ellas cual si fuesen toros bravos’” (p. 72). Demetrio's men, emboldened, surge up the hill almost like a force of nature: “‘¡Arriba, arriba!’” gritaban sus hombres, siguiendo tras él, como venados, sobre las rocas, hombres y bestias hechos uno,’” (p. 71). The fusion of men with animals (“hombres y bestias hechos uno”) transforms them into centaurs—and in fact Centauro del Norte was a sobriquet given to Pancho Villa, in whose army Demetrio and his men are fighting, and whose military sucesses are largely attributable to his cavalry, the Dorados.

There are several other instances in Part I of the novel in which horses reflect military strength and power as well as wealth, and, conversely, powerlessness and poverty. While Cervantes is in the federal army, for example, a soldier confides in him his unhappiness with the federales and his envy of the revolutionaries through contrasting descriptions of horses: “‘aquéllos cabalgan lo más granado de las caballerizas del Norte y del interior, las guarniciones de sus caballos pesan de pura plata … Nosotros, ¡pst! …, en sardinas buenas para alzar cubos de noria’” (all ellipses as in original, p. 24). Cervantes expresses his initial disillusionment with Demetrio's band by drawing a similar contrast, though with the terms inverted: “‘¿En dónde están esos hombres admirablemente armados y montados … ? ¡Bah! Una veintena de encuerados y piojosos, habiendo quien cabalgara en una yegua decrépita, matadura de la cruz a la cola’” (p. 29). When Cervantes, in the mountain village, tries to convince Camila that she should respond to Demetrio's overtures, he associates wealth with horses: “‘Tonta, Demetrio va a llegar a general, va a ser muy rico … Muchos caballos, muchas alhajas’” (ellipsis as in original, p. 47).

Part I of the novel, then, presents horses and man as being in harmony and, moreover, emphasizes the horse as a source of strength and power. Descriptions of horses accord well with the ascendant trajectory of the first part of the novel.

In Part II, horse images and their symbolic import are strikingly different. They symbolize the “descenso al infierno de la barbarie”¹⁰ which characterizes this central section of Los de abajo. The wild, uncontrollable, and brute nature of horses now predominates in descriptions. The first chapter of Part II, which introduces El güero Margarito and La Pintada (exemplars of the evil aspects of the Revolution) and presents the revolutionaries carousing and bragging about killing, closes with the mad dash of runaway horses, symbolizing the unleashing of base passions (lusting, robbing, killing) of man: “Fuera del restaurante no cesan los gritos, las carcajadas y las canciones de los ebrios. Pasan soldados a caballo desbocado azotando las aceras” (p. 78). Running out of control, these horses represent pent-up desires for vengeance (Demetrio burns Don Mónico's house in Part II) and anticipate the uncontrolled “animal nature” of many of the cruelties that take place in Part II.¹¹

La Pintada's horse, concentrating and at the same time expanding these associations, is one of the dominant images of Part II. It first appears during the bachanalian feast celebrating Demetrio's promotion to general (Part II, Chapter III). La pintada interrupts the drunken toasts: “pretendía meter al comedor una bellísima yegua de un negro azabache.—Mi ‘avance’! ¡Mi ‘avance’!—clamaba palmoteando el cuello enarcado del soberbio animal” (p. 84). The jet black color of the horse hints at the darker passions of man and at death; the horse belongs to La Pintada, the dissolute “diabla,” as El güero Margarito calls her (p. 85), who kills Camila. The tensely arched neck emphasizes the barely restrained animal power of the horse.

In a highly symbolic scene, La Pintada makes the mare enter the dining room of the opulent house the revolutionaries have appropriated: “La yegua se resitía a franquear la puerta; pero un tirón del cabestro y un latigazo en el anca la hicieron entrar con brío y estrépito” (pp. 84-85). The entry of the horse into the dining room signifies the degeneration of the Revolution into seemingly wanton destruction. In contrast to Part I where horses invariably appear in their natural element, the outdoors, in Part II they are frequently presented inside houses and buildings, stressing the brute, animal nature of this phase of the Revolution. This animal invasion of the human, “civilized,” world is evident when La Pintada sleeps on the living room floor where her mare “dines:” “dormía [la Pintada] cerca de Demetrio, sobre la alfombra y al pie de un confidente colmado de alfalfa y maíz donde la yegua negra cenaba” (my emphasis, p. 87). The inversion of terms in which words for the human ingestion of food are applied to animals is repeated in the same chapter: “el güero salía de la recámara a darle de almorzar a su caballo” (my emphasis, p. 88). The house in which the revolutionaries billet in Moyahua gives evidence of animal occupation: “los pisos, demolidos por las pesuñas de las bestias” (p. 94). The black mare is omnipresent (whether in the house or outside is unclear) for when Cervantes pulls up a chair and the legs squeak “la yegua prieta de la Pintada bufó, se removió en la sombra” (p. 94). In Moyahua, once more, horses are forcefully propelled into human space: “El mostrador no podía contener más gente. Demetrio, la Pintada y el güero Margarito habían dejado afuera sus caballos; pero los demás oficiales se habían metido brutalmente con todo y cabalgaduras” (p. 99). Man and animal are intermixed in a confused mass: “Los sombreros galoneados de cóncavas y colosales faldas se encontraban en vaivén constante; caracoleaban las ancas de las bestias, que sin cesar removían sus finas cabezas de ojazos negros, narices palpitantes y orejas pequeñas” (p. 99). Human and animal sounds, the latter predominating, combine in a discordant chorus: “Y en la infernal alharaca de los borrachos se oía el resoplar de los caballos, su rudo golpe de pesuñas en el pavimento y, de vez en vez, un relincho breve y nervioso” (p. 99).

Even when horses are in the outdoors, they are described as intractable or untamed. For a brief moment, anticipating the return of the revolutionaries to Moyahua to “visit” Don Mónico, joy is reflected as Demetrio's men gallop their horses: “Como los potros que relinchan y retozan a los primeros truenos de mayo, así van por la sierra los hombres de Demetrio” (p. 89). More in keeping with the tone of Part II, however, is the description of the revolutionaries' horses which opens Chapter IX: “El torbellino del polvo, prolongado a buen trecho a lo largo de la carretera, rompíase bruscamente en masas difusas y violentas, y se destacaban pechos hinchados, crines revueltas, narices trémulas, ojos ovoides, impetuosos, patas abiertas y como encogidas al impulso de la carrera” (p. 101). The chaotic violence of the description has led to its comparison with Picasso's Guernica.¹² The same chapter (IX) presents barbarous aspects of war; the massacre of practically defenseless federales and of a priest and his followers, the looting of the rectory, and El güero's cruel treatment of a federal prisoner. In keeping with the values—the base passions—associated with La Pintada's horse, a black mare is used when Demetrio sends Cervantes to deceive Camila and bring her back (p. 97). While camping on the way to Tepatitlán, once more, horses and men appear as a jumbled mass: “Tendidos entre los surcos, dormían los soldados, y revueltos con ellos, los caballos echados, caída la cabeza y cerrados los ojos” (p. 106). In the chapter (XII) in which La Pintada kills Camila, Azuela uses the two women's horses to foreshadow the killing: “La Pintada disparó la suya [la yegua] y rapidísima, al pasar atropellando a Camila, la cogió de la cabeza y le deshizo la trenza. Al empellón, la yegua de Camila se encabritó y la muchacha abandonó las riendas por quitarse los cabellos de la cara; vaciló, perdió el equilibrio y cayó en un pedregal, rompiéndose la frente” (p. 111). The killing happens that same day (p. 113).

The physical and psychological havoc caused by the aimless and useless marches and counter-marches of the revolutionaries in Part II is reflected in the description of horses. At one point near the end of Part II, Demetrio observes: “—Están muy estragadas las remudas, compadre Anastasio; bueno que nos quedemos a descansar un día siquiera” (p. 106). Upon continuing the march, the dispirited state of the men and horses is evident in the monotonous gait of the animals: “sus siluetas [de los hombres] ondulaban vagamente al paso monótono y acompasado de las cabellerías, esfumándose en el tono perla de la luna en menguante” (p. 107).

In contrast to Part I, in which horses were presented as being desirable, they are viewed as a possible source of harm in Part II. Cervantes, who earlier had tried to entice Camila with horses, now points to their harmful potential when he tries to convince Demetrio that he should take money stolen from Don Mónico: “‘Hay que ver siempre adelante. Una bala, el reparo de un caballo, hasta un ridículo resfrío … ¡y una viuda y unos huérfanos en la miseria!’” (ellipsis in original, p. 95).

Horses appear infrequently in Part III. Reflecting the considerable decline in the revolutionaries' fortunes, the first chapter of Part III presents Demetrio and his men not on horses but on mules: “Ascendían la cuesta, al tranco largo de las mulas, pensativos y cabizbajos” (p. 124). Horses do appear, but only as indistinguishable blurs: “el negrear movedizo de las caballerías” (p. 125). Echoing the miniature horses of Part I, Valderrama, the mad poet, rides a “caballuco” (p. 128) in Part III. In contrast to La Pintada's black mare, the white skeletons of horses now predominate. As the revolutionaries enter Juchipila, empty store shelves bring to mind dead horses: “una que otra tienda que permanecía abierta era como por sarcasmo, para mostrar sus desnudos armazones, que recordaban los blancos esqueletos de los caballos diseminados por todos los caminos” (p. 135). Demetrio's brief and painful reunion with his wife takes place on foot, after he has given his horse to an assistant, thus conveying the abatement of unbridled passions: “Demetrio, que había dado su caballo al asistente, caminaba a pie y poco a poco con su mujer” (p. 136). Tense with expectation, in a last flurry before the end, horses trot through the mountains: “Por la cima de la sierra trotaban potrillos brutos de crines alzadas y colas tensas, gallardos con la gallardía de los picachos que levantaban su cabeza hasta besar las nubes” (p. 138). These “potrillos,” which signal Demetrio's final return to his homeland, recall the “potros” (p. 89) associated with the revolutionaries' earlier return to Moyahua, the “tierra de Demetrio Macías” (p. 89).

Although the horse is the predominant animal image in Los de abajo, Azuela also uses other animals to serve symbolic functions. The attribution of eagle qualities to Demetrio's horse during the taking of La Bufa is an example of bird imagery in the novel. In Chapter I Demetrio's dog Palomo evokes an ideal and idyllic background (Palomo; the dove, paloma, as a bird of peace, and the dog as a faithful companion of man)¹³ against which the action of the novel unfolds. The positive value of the image of Palomo is confirmed by its ironical inversion when the drunk federal lieutenant importunes Demetrio's wife immediately after she has dragged the dead Palomo, shot by the federal soldiers, to the house: “‘yo te juro volverte tu casa un palomar’” (my emphasis, p. 6). Doves appear closely associated with Demetrio in several other instances. While waiting in the mountain village for his wound to heal, Demetrio is given a folk cure by Señá Remigia consisting of applying the warm and bloody halves of a freshly split dove to his abdomen (pp. 32-33). The fact that the cure is unsuccessful—whereas Luis Cervantes' medical-school knowledge is successful—and that it requires killing the dove seems to underscore Demetrio's uprooting from his previous campesino life much as the killing of Palomo mirrors the destruction of his pre-revolutionary world. Demetrio's moving and nostalgic evocation of his rancho (phrased, significantly, in the past imperfect tense) which he gives shortly afterwards (p. 42), clearly expresses his own realization of this uprooting from his past. At the end of the novel Demetrio dies while doves sweetly coo: “Las palomas cantan con dulzura en las rinconadas de las rocas” (p. 140). Demetrio's passage in the novel from life to death is thus effectively accompanied by the inverse movement of images involving doves from the killing of Palomo to the now alive and singing doves. The repetition at the end of the novel of the animal imagery with which it opened marks the return of the narrative to its starting point.

The circular movement from favorable and sympathetic bird images in Part I to unfavorable and adverse ones in Part II and back to positive images in Part III, confirms both their symbolic meaning and structural role. When Camila, in Part I, realizes that Cervantes is not interested in her, but rather advises her to involve herself with Demetrio, she breaks into tears. A sympathetic personification of a torcaz echoes, perhaps a little too obviously, her grief: “una torcaz lloró también” (p. 48). In the next to last chapter of Part I, Alberto Solís describes Villa, with somewhat ironic hyperbole, as “‘el Aguila azteca, que ha clavado su pico de acero sobre la cabeza de la víbora de Victoriano Huerta’” (p. 67). Villa's airplanes, in the words of an anonymous speaker, are pájaros and the grenades thrown from them are corn being scattered for gallinas (p. 69), that is, the cowardly federal soldiers.¹⁴ In the last chapter of Part I, as previously pointed out, Solís describes how Demetrio storms the heights of La Bufa on a horse possessing the attributes of an eagle. Demetrio's command to his men, “—¡Arriba!” (p. 71), and its repetition by them, although related to the storming of the promontory, also suggest soaring flight.

The uplifting image of the eagle is immediately and sharply contrasted in the next chapter, the first of Part II, by El güero Margarito's characterization of two federal officers whom he shot as “gallinas asustadas” (p. 74). The cowardice of the federal soldiers is also evident in their comparison to “guajolotes” (p. 100). Later, el güero refers, with cruel and cutting irony, to a federal prisoner as a “gallo” (p. 102).¹⁵

Bird images associated with Demetrio are central to the descendant movement of Part II. Whereas in Part I he was linkened to an eagle, he now has the eyes of an “aguilucho” (p. 80). During the celebration of his feat of arms at Zacatecas and his promotion to general, he fixes his “mirada de ave de rapiña” (p. 83) on Luis Cervantes' novia. When Cervantes presents him with the insignia of his new rank, a small brass eagle, Demetrio reacts “con mucha ingenuidad:—¿Y qué voy a hacer yo con este zopilote?” (my emphasis, p. 84). Demetrio's ill concealed concupiscence and the change from his eagle-like horse in Part I to his own characterization of his general's insignia as a vulture (usually associated with death, carrion, and refuse) reflect the descent of the Revolution into cruelty, looting, rapine, and wanton killing which takes place in Part II. For instance, shortly after Demetrio receives his “zopilote,” the revolutionaries reduce a house of Don Mónico's that they are occupying to a refuse heap (pp. 94-95). Again, on the train to Aguascalientes the jumble of men and women is accompanied by the presence of dogs, cats, and parrots. These last, the parrots, are suggestive of the old woman who, begging for money, automatically “parrots”¹⁶ her sad story of having been robbed in the Silao train station. The incident with the old woman takes place in the last chapter of Part II and contributes to the impression that the actions of the revolutionaries have degenerated into mindless and automatic rote reflexes. This impression is strengthened by the discussion on the train about stealing, occasioned by the woman's story—“El tema del ‘yo robé’” (p. 120). The structural function of the discussion, appearing in the last chapter of Part II, is evident for it parallels that about killing—“‘Yo maté’ … El tema es inagotable” (p. 78)—which opens and closes the first chapter of Part II. And the two topics—killing and stealing—are repetitions and expansions of the condensed, prophetic words of Solís in the last chapter of Part I: “‘la psicología de nuestra raza [resplandece], condensada en dos palabras: ¡robar, matar!’” (pp. 72-73).

The generally depreciatory function of bird imagery in Part II carries over to the first chapters of Part III. Thus Valderrama, as had El güero Margarito, uses gallinas (p. 125) to indicate cowardice. In the middle of the third chapter, telling use is made of a cockfight to convey the savagery of man; normal terms are inverted and the fight is described as being “de una ferocidad casi humana” (p. 130).¹⁷

In the last three chapters of the novel, however, favorable bird images appear in rapid succession, marking a shift in narrative focus away from the aimless wanderings and cruelties of the revolutionaries and preparing the way for Demetrio's highly symbolic death. In Chapter V, when the revolutionaries enter Juchipila they find destruction, desolation, and ruin accompanied by the melancholy chorus of feminine voices in the town church. This human sadness is strongly contrasted with the singing of birds, mentioned twice in one sentence: “Y en la tristeza y desolación del pueblo, mientras cantan las mujeres en el templo, los pajarillos no cesan de piar en las arboledas, ni el canto de las currucas deja de oírse en las ramas secas de los naranjos” (p. 136). The insistence on bird imagery to contrast with human destruction is suggestive of Demetrio's imminent and inevitable reintegration into a natural cycle of life. This is reinforced in the next chapter which presents Demetrio's anguished reunion with his wife. The reunion takes place against a backdrop of storm clouds and rain. As the rain ceases, a silver breasted swallow ascends the sparkling sky: “una golondrina de plateado vientre y alas angulosas cruza oblicuamente los hilos de cristal, de repente iluminados por el sol vespertino” (p. 137). The ascent of the swallow prefigures Demetrio's death and the ascent of his soul to heaven.¹⁸ In the last chapter Demetrio dies as doves sweetly coo.

Characters in Los de abajo are associated and compared not only with horses and birds but with several other animals as well.¹⁹ These other animal references, which can be found in the portrayal of actions and aspects of character or in descriptions of physical appearances and objects, appear in isolation and do not, therefore, form unified progressions as is the case with horses and birds. They do conform, however, with few exceptions, to the general pattern of positive references in Part I, negative ones in Part II, and, once again, favorable ones at the end.

Demetrio, climbing the mountains at the beginning of the novel, is like an “hormiga arriera” (p. 9); a characterization connoting persistence and perseverance. In Part II, his loss of impetus is evident when La Pintada calls him a “puerco gordo” (p. 81). His animalistic nature is further stressed when, forcibly disarmed after attempting to shoot La Pintada because she prevented him from entering the room of Cervantes' novia, he faces those who have disarmed him like a “toro a media plaza [con] los ojos extraviados” (p. 87). Bull imagery is again used when Demetrio shoots a recent recruit who disobeys his order not to sack Don Mónico's house: “un disparo instantáneo lo hace caer como los toros heridos por la puntilla” (p. 93). It also emphasizes the unbridled nature of the celebration feast after the victory of Zacatecas: “Rompió la orquesta una rumbosa marcha taurina. Los soldados bramaron de alegría” (my emphasis, p. 83). Previously, in Part I, reflecting the festive mood of the first encounter, La Codorniz had played the torero: “surgió de improviso, en cueros, con los calzones tendidos en actitud de torear a los federales” (p. 14). In both the first and last battles, Demetrio is portrayed making animal sounds: “rugió (p. 14); “ruge … como una fiera” (p. 139). In another military context, Demetrio explains the tactics he will use in taking the town by an analogy from the animal world: “‘¿Ha visto cómo sacan la cabeza las ardillas por la boca del tusero cuando uno se los llena de agua? Pues igual de aturdidos van a salir estos mochitos infelices luego que oigan los primeros disparos. No salen más que a servirnos de blanco’” (p. 53). And La Codorniz, reacting to the news of Villa's defeat, expresses the common desire for disbandment and flight: “—¡Pos hora sí, muchachos … cada araña por su hebra! …” (p. 129).

Snake imagery effectively conveys the magnetism of Villa: “el guerrero invicto que ejerce a distancia ya su gran fascinación de boa” (p. 67). Huerta, as previously pointed out, is called a “víbora” (p. 67). By using the same animal imagery to describe political and military enemies, Azuela establishes an identity between them.²⁰ Cervantes expresses his perception of La Pintada as an evil influence on Demetrio by referring to her as a “sierpe” (p. 96). She is also described as a scorpion. When she cruelly tells Camila that Demetrio is going to send her away and it subsequently proves untrue, La Pintada “se volvió alacrán” (p. 107), thus succinctly indicating that her intended cruelty had backfired and that she had stung herself like a scorpion. In a similar vein, El güero calls her a “chinche” (p. 114).

A final example of animal imagery can be seen in the several metaphors for bullets. In the first encounter with the federal soldiers, Anastasio Montañés reacts to a hail of bullets: “—¡Huy! ¡Huy! Parece que me echaron un panel de moscos en la cabeza” (p. 14). In the taking of the town, the townsman guiding Demetrio and his men says of pistol shots: “‘ésas no son arañas que pican!’” (p. 55). Solís, on the battlefield at Zacatecas, calls passing bullets “‘mosquitos zumbadores’” (p. 73). The irony of his death is underscored by the repetition of the sound: “Sintió un golpecito seco en el vientre. … Luego le zumbaron los oídos … Después, oscuridad y silencio eternos …” (my emphasis, all ellipses, except first, as in original, p. 73). In Lagos, El güero, in swaggering and blustering macho fashion, shoots at the feet of customers in a restaurant. When one of them limps away, La Codorniz observes: “‘a ése que va saliendo le prendió la avispa’” (p. 116).

The animal imagery used by Azuela en Los de abajo grows naturally out of the rural, campesino, and charro milieu of the characters. It plays an essential part in the depiction of character, the vivid presentation of events, and aids in the achievement of verisimilitude. In each case, the image chosen or the comparison made accords well with the particular aspect of character or plot situation being emphasized. Horses and birds, the principal animal images of the novel, appear in patterned progressions which closely correspond to, and stress, the circular development of the story. With this unusual and inspired use of animal imagery, Azuela greatly contributes to the narrative harmony and structural unity of Los de abajo.²¹

Notes

1. See Porfirio Sánchez, “La deshumanización del hombre en Los de abajo,” Cuadernos Americanos, 192, No. 1 (1974), 179-191; Hugo Rodríguez-Alcalá, “El interés artístico de las riñas de gallos en Los de abajo, La vorágine y Don Segundo Sombra,” Romanische Forschungen, 76 (1964), 163-168; Andris Kleinbergs, “Función de la naturaleza en Los de abajo,” Cuadernos Americanos, 169, N. 2 (1970), 194-201; Didier Jaen, “Realidad ideal y realidad antagónica en Los de abajo.” Cuadernos Americanos, 183, No. 4 (1972), 231-243; Seymour Menton, “La estructura épica de Los de abajo y un prólogo especulativo,” Hispania, 50 (1967), 1001-1011; and Joseph Sommers, After the Storm: Landmarks of the Modern Mexican Novel (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1968), pp. 10-11.

2. Seymour Menton, “La estructura épica de Los de abajo,” touches on this function of animal imagery when he mentions rats and dogs along with other motifs and observes that “la unidad del libro se refuerza con [estos] motivos temáticos del pasado o del futuro” (p. 1009). He further notes that the repetition of natural phenomena and animal references—the only example given is of dogs—constitutes “otras vigas para reforzar la estructura de la epopeya” (p. 1010).

3. Aniceto Aramoni, Psicoanálisis de la dinámica de un pueblo: México tierra de hombres. (México: B. Costa-Amic, Editor, 1965), pp. 137-143, 168-169, 175-176. For this and ensuing observations, see also in the same work by Aramoni: Capítulo IV, “Caballería y charrería;” Capítulo V, “Pancho Villa, los charros y el machismo;” Capítulo VI, “El corrido, la canción ranchera y el machismo.”

4. Mariano Azuela, Los de abajo: Novela de la Revolución Méxicana, 3rd ed. (México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, Colección Popular, 1964), p. 7. All references to Los de abajo will be from this edition and will appear in the text.

5. The two extant English translations of Los de abajo confirm the ambiguity. E. Munguía, Jr., trans., The Underdogs: A Novel of the Mexican Revolution, by Mariano Azuela (New York: Signet Classic of The American Library of World Literature, Inc., 1962), p. 26, interprets the sentence as referring to the horses of the federal soldiers: “The soldiers had retreated; Demetrio began the search for the soldiers' horses which had been hidden in the sierra.” Frances Kellam Hendricks and Beatrice Berler, trans., Two Novels of the Mexican Revolution: The Trials of a Respectable Family and The Underdogs, by Mariano Azuela (San Antonio, Texas: Principia Press of Trinity University, 1963), p. 170, give the opposite interpretation: “The Federals had retreated and Demetrio recovered all his horses hidden in the sierra.” The choice of interpretations is of some, though minor, importance. There is an ascendant progression in the descriptions of horses as Demetrio and his men play an ever greater role in the Revolution. If one interprets the sentence as does Munguía, an association with the previously mentioned “caballos de miniatura” is established. If one interprets it as referring to the horses (previously unmentioned) of Demetrio and his men, the generic caballos becomes the starting point for successive descriptions. The former interpretation, by emphasizing the (small) size of the horses as well as the fact that the revolutionaries have been horseless up to this point, fits the progression more neatly. The latter interpretation does not, however; negate the existence of a progression and can as easily be taken as its starting point.

6. Menton, “La estructura épica,” p. 1004.

7. The association of these qualities with red is traditional. D. H. Lawrence, in Apocalypse (New York: The Viking Press, 1966), pp. 97-99, associates red horses with Mars, the god of war.

8. This movement is seen in the first chapters: “después de muchas horas de ascenso” (p. 9); “comenzó a bajar” (p. 9); “llegó al fondo del barranco” (p. 9); “como hormiga arriera ascendió” (p. 9); “escaló la cumbre” (p. 10); the revolutionaries are above the federales who are in the bottom of the canyon in the first skirmish (pp. 12-14); Demetrio, at the end of the fight, “se dejó resbalar hacia un barranco” (p. 15); the band then goes up into the sierra “por cuestas empinadísimas” (p. 16).

9. Azuela's elliptical structuring of the novel offers no explanation of the provenance of the horse on which Demetrio now takes part in the battle at Zacatecas; his dark chestnut had been shot from under him when the revolutionaries attacked the town (p. 54). However, the horse's evocative qualities of strength and potency, having been established, continue as augmentative elements in the present description of Demetrio's horse.

10. Menton, “La estructura,” p. 1005, relates this appraisal to La Codorniz' young girl friend's tearing pictures out of a deluxe edition of the Divine Comedy. Horse imagery further confirms Menton's appraisal.

11. These horses, in both form and function, recall the opening verses of Calderón's La vida es sueño: “Hipogrifo violento / … / y bruto sin instinto / natural … / [¿dónde?] / te desbocas, arrastras y despeñas?” Calderón de la Barca, La vida es sueño, ed. Augusto Cortina (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, S. A., 1955), p. 3.

12. Porfirio Sánchez, “La deshumanización del hombre en Los de abajo,” Cuadernos Americanos, 192, No. 1 (1974), 189.

13. Didier Jaen, “Realidad ideal y realidad antagónica en Los de abajo,” Cuadernos Americanos, 183 (julio-agosto, 1972), pp. 233-234.

14. Aramoni, Psicoanálisis de la dinámica de un pueblo, pp. 216-218, discusses the importance—the honor—attached to being a gallo, and, conversely, the disgrace of being a gallina.

15. Aramoni, pp. 208-209, discusses the qualities a gallo should have, such as self-assurance and a disdain for death, which the federal prisoner does not possess.

16. Munguía's translation (Munguía, trans., The Underdogs, by Mariano Azuela), p. 126, gives “The old woman speaks rapidly, parrotlike, sighing and sobbing.” The original Spanish, p. 119, reads: “La vieja habla de prisa y automáticamente, suspira y solloza.” While the direct comparison with a bird is lacking in the original, the birdlike qualities of the woman are present in the description of her darting eyes: “Sus ojos, muy vivos, se vuelven de todos lados,” p. 119.

17. For an extended discussion of the incident, see Hugo Rodríguez-Alcalá, “El interés artístico de las riñas de gallos en Los de abajo, La vorágine y Don Segundo Sombra.” Romanische Forschungen, 76 (1964), 163-168.

18. Menton, “La estructura,” p. 1005.

19. For the mention of several animals—dogs, coyotes, jackals, and rats—see Menton, “La estructura,” pp. 1009-1010; Sánchez, “La deshumanización,” pp. 179, 182, 186, 187; and Sommers, After the Storm, pp. 10-11. Having been pointed out, the existence of these animal references need not be reiterated.

20. Menton, “La estructura,” p. 1004, has pointed out how Azuela does not distinguish between federales and revolutionaries. These descriptions of Villa and Huerta confirm that observation.

21. Animal imagery—particularly that of horses and birds—as it has been studied here would seem to substantiate and confirm Menton's basic thesis in “La estructura épica” that Los de abajo is a structured, harmonic, and unified work of art. It is to Menton's seminal article and to my colleague, Armando Zárate, that I owe the initial insights for the present study.