and usually negatively. The use of this place suggests a counter system in which capitalism is assumed to be thriving and whose economic benefits lure Mexicans north across the border. Frequently characters discuss the choice of leaving home for economic advancement at the cost of national identity and pride. Finally, the economic concerns squelch the true need of spiritual awareness that Fuentes’s work demands. To play off the title phrase, the air is never clear in any place where materialism dominates.

The Mexican Revolution

The Mexican Revolution, ignited in 1910, was the fiery culmination of numerous suppressed uprisings yearning for freedom from tyranny. Throughout the nineteenth century, Mexico found itself on a pendulum, swinging between democracy and despotism, with its people relentlessly resisting the Spanish, the French, and their own oppressive leaders. Notably, Mexico stood apart as one of the few Latin American nations where mestizos—those of mixed European and indigenous heritage—and native peoples took an active role in the fight for independence. As the dawn of the twentieth century approached, Mexico languished under the thirty-year autocratic reign of Porfirio Diaz. Diaz sold the nation's treasures to foreign investors at paltry prices and brutally silenced industrial strikes. The revolution erupted when Diaz, clinging to power, was re-elected in 1910; by 1917, the conflict had claimed approximately one million lives, torn between middle-class opposition to Diaz's regime and a grassroots peasant revolt seeking a fair share of wealth. Despite facing a common adversary, these factions clashed over their revolutionary aims, prolonging the chaos and bloodshed in their quest for political dominance.

The upheaval gained momentum when Francisco Indalecio Madero, Diaz's challenger, demanded the annulment of the fraudulent election. Amidst violent riots in Mexico City, Diaz abdicated and fled to France in 1911. Madero ascended to the presidency but failed to deliver on anticipated reforms, drawing the ire of revolutionary leaders Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa, who spearheaded peasant revolts against him. In 1913, General Victoriano Huerta, a corrupt dictator, orchestrated Madero's overthrow and assassination, only to be ousted himself. Zapata and Villa briefly seized the presidency but were soon defeated in 1915 during the ferocious battle of Celaya, where Venustiano Carranza and Alvaro Obregon emerged victorious, plunging the nation into full-blown civil war.

The revolution reached an official conclusion in February 1917 with the proclamation of a groundbreaking new constitution. This nationalist, anti-clerical document, hailed as the world's first socialist constitution, implemented a single-term presidency to prevent any future dictatorship akin to Diaz's. It transferred control of education from the Catholic Church to the government, instituted public ownership of land and resources, and guaranteed fundamental labor rights. Carranza assumed the presidency in 1917, but political unrest and conflict among various revolutionary factions persisted for another decade. The revolutionary icon Zapata met his fate in 1919, and both Carranza and Obregon (president from 1920-24) fell victim to assassination in military coups.

In 1929, Mexico embarked on a period of political stability with the formation of an official government party that united the diverse social groups involved in the revolution. This party, known since 1945 as the Institutional Revolutionary Party (Partido Revolucionario Institucional—PRI), brought about a more prosperous business climate during the ensuing stable years. However, the intertwining of socialist leadership, foreign investment, and a legacy of exploitation left indelible scars on the national economy.

Post-WWII Mexico

The economic transformations that unfolded after the Mexican Revolution paved the way for the emergence of a stable middle class. Under the leadership of Lazaro Cardenas from 1934 to 1940, the nation sought to fulfill the revolution's socialist aspirations. Cardenas spearheaded extensive land redistribution, established robust labor unions, expanded education to remote corners of the country, and nationalized foreign petroleum holdings, predominantly owned by the U.S. In 1944, amid their WWII alliance, Mexico and the United States reached a compensation agreement.

In the years following the war, Latin America's intellectual landscape blossomed with a resounding sense of national identity. This "Boom" was sparked as native intellectuals returned from European universities, bringing with them modern philosophical, literary, and artistic innovations to address the conditions of their homelands. In the 1950s, the backdrop for Where the Air Is Clear, Mexico experienced a rejuvenation of national identity following the revolution. During this era and beyond, the nation's intellectuals, including renowned figures such as painter Diego Rivera and novelists Octavio Paz and Fuentes, engaged in this quest to redefine Mexican nationality. By 1958, when Fuentes' debut novel saw publication, social class issues had become integral to the evolving concept of national identity.

While the post-war period ushered in political stability, economic growth, and the formation of a burgeoning middle class, the most impoverished segments of the population continued to endure living conditions that differed little from pre-Revolutionary times. Artists working within the tradition of magic realism revisited their nation's history, recalling the pre-European Latin America with its unique spirituality, juxtaposing and enhancing discussions about modern-day social issues in their countries.

Symbolism

The storyline of Where the Air Is Clear is a treasure trove of symbols, weaving Aztec mythology together with modern history to craft a reinvigorated Mexican identity. Within this rich tapestry, symbols such as jewelry, fire, and vision link the novel's exploration of identity across the ancient and the contemporary.

Jewelry becomes a telling emblem of status and self for two contrasting characters: Teodula and Norma. Teodula, adorned with her wedding jewels, clings to these pieces as they embody the ancient legacy of Aztec culture. Her last name echoes the lineage of the mighty Moctezuma, the Aztec emperor slain by Cortes, the Spanish conqueror. By resolutely wearing these ornate jewels, Teodula holds onto the myth of Moctezuma's legendary lost treasure, nurturing hopes of retribution against the "newcomers." In a twist of fate, she casts her jewels into the flames only upon witnessing what she perceives as Norma's sacrificial demise. This fire, ironically ignited by Federico in a fit of rage—over Norma's refusal to sell her jewelry during a financial crisis—mirrors Teodula's steadfastness: Norma, too, fiercely maintains her own beliefs and identity, with her jewelry as a manifest token of her stature.

Fire emerges as another potent symbol, frequently appearing throughout the narrative and echoing Aztec mythology. Ixca’s name itself resonates with this element, meaning "to roast" and "a thousand fires." Ixca assumes the role of an avenger, tasked with purging impurity through sacrificial fire, allowing the true Mexican identity to emerge. Flames dance vividly across the cityscape descriptions and align with the sun's imagery—a powerful symbol in Aztec lore. Fire, in its dual role as personal and social symbol, is woven into Ixca’s identity, with flames—real or imagined—informing his vision of Mexico City.

Vision serves as a conduit to a genuine Mexican identity, juxtaposing the visible contemporary world with the almost invisible mythological past of Mexico. Ixca, upon first arriving at Bobo's party, deliberately blurs his perception, while remaining omnipresent yet unseen by others. This mystical perception extends to Teodula and her son, who possess "visions" of both world and future. Teodula perceives the desires of the Aztec deities, while Ixca glimpses his ancient homeland, conjuring images of "a corner where stone broke into shapes of flaming shafts and red skulls and still butterflies: a wall of snakes beneath the twin roofs of rain and fire." The ability to uncover authentic Mexico lies within those who introspect and dare to "see" their memories. Hortensia's physical blindness grants her profound spiritual "vision," enabling her to "see" the true essence of Federico beyond his modern facade. Similarly, Federico reconnects with his past self by allowing "the heavy curtains inside his eyes slowly rise and reveal the inner pupil of memory, liquid, pinpoint."

Magical Realism

In the 1940s, Cuban novelist Alejo Carpentier introduced the term "magical realism" to describe the unique way contemporary Latin American authors blend folklore, myth, and fantasy into their narratives, often veiling political and historical issues within mystical storytelling. A quintessential example of this genre is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. Other notable authors in this tradition include Brazilian Jorge Amado, Argentines Julio Cortazar and Jorge Luis Borges, Chilean Isabel Allende, and Fuentes. This wave of Latin American novelists typically explores epic, heroic "Truths" within their works, using highly symbolic language and fluid narratives that shift from realism to mythology, illuminating everyday life's ordinary facets with the extraordinary.

In Where the Air Is Clear, the seamless blend of 1950s Mexico with the mythology of Aztec gods epitomizes magical realism. It's not superstition or witchcraft that defines this narrative; instead, the fantastical notion of Ixca as the Aztec god of war, striving to resurrect the pantheon of Aztec deities to avenge their fall from grace, firmly places the novel within the magical realist genre.

Narrative

In Where the Air Is Clear, Fuentes intricately weaves a tapestry of narrative that echoes the artful innovations of European and American literary giants like William Faulkner and James Joyce. Critics have marveled at how his storytelling transcends the conventional bounds of time and place, allowing the plot to sinuously drift through myriad settings and eras. Fuentes captures the essence of the city as a constantly shifting entity—its population in a perpetual state of transformation—while simultaneously highlighting the fragmentations and divisions imposed by social markers.

Fuentes aspired to craft a portrayal of Mexico City that embodied an interconnected omniscience, spanning its storied history from ancient Aztec visions to revolutionary echoes of upheaval, and into the mundane tapestry of contemporary life. The narrative is thus given a collective voice, weaving the fabric of the city's soul through unseen connections among its denizens, temporal leaps across a metamorphic Mexico, and abrupt shifts in perspective. Chapters are titled after characters whose memories offer a kaleidoscope of viewpoints, each positioned within the grand narrative of Mexico's evolution.

An intricate web of relationships emerges: Manuel, oblivious of his true lineage as Federico's son; Federico himself, whose reflections cascade from bustling streets to the sterile confines of a modern office, linking disparate social echelons; Lorenza, her present nourished by an aristocratic past. In the novel's denouement, Ixca's voice mingles with the collective murmur of the city, enveloping the elusive essence of Mexican identity within its mercurial framework, drifting "over all the city's profiles, over broken dreams and conquests, over old summits of headfeathers and blood."

Literary Heritage

Rising from the ruins of the Aztec capital laid low by conquering Spaniards, Mexico City emerged as a pivotal cultural hub within the Spanish American empire, paralleled only by Lima. The Spanish Inquisition's flames consumed the rare codices of the Aztec and Maya civilizations, leaving behind only oral traditions and scant parchments as a form of subtle rebellion against the colonial grip.

With the advent of Spanish colonialism, literature began to surface in the Spanish language, chronicling the Mexican Valley. Among the notable voices, Bartolome de las Casas, a Dominican missionary, vehemently condemned the mistreatment of indigenous peoples in his work The Devastation of the Indies. Meanwhile, Bernal Diaz del Castillo chronicled the conquest in a three-volume epic penned between 1568 and 1580. The colonial era's most potent literary expressions were forged through the letters and reports penned by conquistadors for the Spanish crown, capturing the bewilderment and cultural dissonance these soldiers experienced amidst the grandeur of the Aztec capital.

Save for the contributions of Juan Ruiz de Alarcon y Mendoza during the seventeenth-century Golden Age, Mexican literature largely imitated European forms until the Spanish departure. It was only afterwards that Mexico endeavored to carve out a distinct national identity through arts and literature. This quest found its champions among the Latin American Vanguard, a movement rejecting conventional literature in favor of modernist inspirations drawn from late-nineteenth-century French works. The Vanguard, intertwined with the European Avant-Garde, paved the way for "El Boom," a literary revolution reinvigorating indigenous culture and offering sharp social critique.

Peru's Cesar Vallejo, a luminary of the period, delved into Maya-Quiche myths in his Human Poems (1939), which chronicled these sacred tales first transcribed in the sixteenth century. Vallejo's writings ignited a spark of socio-political awareness among authors. Octavio Paz, wielding even greater influence, left an indelible mark on Latin American, and particularly Mexican, literature and identity. His Labyrinth of Solitude, a poignant exploration of the Mexican psyche, stirred both ire and inspiration, prompting a wave of authentic, boldly Latin American narratives.

Influenced by the European Avant-Garde and literary titans like Argentina's Jorge Luis Borges and Octavio Paz, Carlos Fuentes catapulted Latin American literature onto the world stage with "El Boom." His debut novel, La región más transparente (Where the Air Is Clear), published in 1958, vividly depicted Mexico City through the prism of indigenous lore and a spectrum of social strata. This groundbreaking work spurred a generation of Latin American writers, many shaped by experiences in Europe, to abandon imitation and heed Borges' call to create original works.

The Ambitious Debut

Where the Air Is Clear marks a daring and bold entrance into the literary world by a young Carlos Fuentes. This novel breaks away from the traditional mold of its Mexican predecessors. Spanning three parts, the narrative extends three years beyond the events of Part Two in its final act. The story is bookended by contemplative monologues from Ixca Cienfuegos, framing the tale with introspection. Bridging these reflections are lively gatherings at the abode of Bobo Gutierrez, both at the novel's onset and its poignant conclusion.

A Tale of Two Cities

Fuentes crafts a vibrant cityscape with his novel, drawing inspiration from John Dos Passos' Manhattan Transfer. Penned in 1925, Dos Passos attempted to capture the ever-shifting essence of New York, a teeming metropolis where individual identities often dissolved into anonymity. Similarly, Fuentes mirrors this vision with the rapidly transforming Mexico City of the 1950s, once a stately capital now morphing beyond recognition. The influx of souls into these urban jungles often led to their moral decay. For many, escape was futile. Dos Passos portrayed his city as a whirlpool of ceaseless activity, with the narrative centering on Jimmy Herf, a journalist longing for a novelist's voice. In parallel, Fuentes depicts Mexico City through the omnipresent eyes of Ixca Cienfuegos. At the time, Dos Passos was a Marxist, a political stance Fuentes continues to embrace. In Manhattan Transfer, only Herf and Congo break free from New York's clutches, much like the financially ruined Federico Robles in Mexico City. Herf departs his city, stripped of all, wandering as a drifter.

Echoes of Literary Giants

James Joyce's influence, the famed chronicler of Dublin, reverberates throughout Where the Air Is Clear. Fuentes openly acknowledges the literary debts owed to both Joyce and Dos Passos. The monologues that frame the novel are richly Joycean, as are the passages highlighting Rodrigo Pola and other central figures. The format of a city novel naturally lends itself to the satirical style akin to Joyce's own.

A Deep Understanding

Fuentes's intimate knowledge of Mexico City and its historical tapestry enriches his debut work. Yet, some critics argue he lacks a profound grasp of the Mexican essence. Despite this, his narratives frequently explore historical themes, especially the Revolution. His vivid portrayal of the battle of Celaya stands out, even winning over some detractors. In his final monologue, Cienfuegos offers a succinct chronicle of Mexico from colonial times to modern days (circa 1951), pondering whether today’s reality surpasses the mythical past he embodies.

In Where the Air Is Clear, Fuentes unfurls a tapestry of characters to paint a vivid portrait of Mexico City in the early 1950s. Here, tragedy fades into the background, replaced by a simmering outrage that brims within the city's veins. This outrage pulses most fiercely through the lives of the downtrodden, the ordinary souls trapped in a web of despair. Fuentes captures their plight with profound clarity, observing their suffering as it swells alongside the city's swelling populace. These mestizos and Indigenous individuals, stripped of assets in rural domains, find little respite from a system that begrudges them even the meagerest slum existence.

Elsewhere, intellectuals engage in ceaseless, yet convoluted dialogues, grappling with the essence of Mexican identity. Their understanding of the nation's myriad challenges far exceeds the superficial musings of high society revelers, who seldom afford a thought to such matters. Yet, much of their discourse rings hollow, mere echoes of repetitive rhetoric. Meanwhile, the populace endures a growing hunger, their numbers swelling, hope slipping further from their grasp as the future looms unchanged and unyielding.

Space Race

1950s: In a bold stride for mankind, the U.S.S.R. outpaced the United States in the cosmic race, heralding a new era with the launch of Sputnik in 1957.

Today: Russia clings tenaciously to its venerable space station, envisioning a future where space tourism injects fresh lifeblood into their space industry. Meanwhile, the United States finds itself underwriting part of Russia’s stake in the International Space Station to ensure the relentless march of progress continues without interruption.

Economic Alliances

1950s: Six visionary European nations came together to forge the European Economic Community (EEC), dismantling tariffs between them and setting the stage for a united Common Market.

Today: Across the Atlantic, Canada, Mexico, and the United States unite in a free-trade powerhouse known as NAFTA. Meanwhile, the European Union burgeons, evolving from its EEC origins into a behemoth with its own currency, sprawling bureaucracy, and nascent military body, distinct from NATO.

Mexico's Economic Landscape

Mexico: By 1998, a significant portion of Mexico's populace—27 percent—struggled below the poverty threshold, with unemployment affecting 2.8 percent. The industrial sector mirrors a tale of two eras, blending antiquated and cutting-edge machinery. Thanks to NAFTA, exports have almost doubled to the U.S. and Canada, promising a hopeful ascent in living standards. However, this optimism shrouds hidden challenges, including mounting environmental concerns and unchecked consumerism.

United States Economic Outlook

United States: As the dawn of a new century unfolds, America basks in the glow of its longest economic boom, boasting record-low unemployment, budget surpluses, and negligible inflation. Paradoxically, it remains beleaguered by crumbling schools, an overdependence on cars, and the looming specter of accumulated nuclear waste.

Mexico's Social Struggles

Mexico: The Zapatistas, representing indigenous voices, rose against the Mexican government in 1994, yearning for long-promised reforms in governance and land distribution. Despite military engagement, their plight remains largely unaddressed.

United States Social Movements

United States: Throughout the 1990s, a myriad of radical groups challenged the American government, culminating in tragic confrontations such as the Waco, Texas standoff, which resulted in needless loss of life. Unlike the unified demands of the Zapatistas, these groups lacked coherence in advocating for reforms rooted in universally acknowledged human rights.

As cities burgeoned in the wake of the industrial revolution, many writers, especially novelists, found fertile ground for their tales within urban landscapes. Daniel Defoe's works, such as Moll Flanders and The History and Surprising Life of Colonel Jacque—both penned in 1722—offer a rich tapestry of insights into the gritty lives of London's indigent and its shadowy underworld. Thanks to the efforts of Defoe, and later Richardson and Fielding, the English novel in the eighteenth century adopted a form that continues to define it today. With few deviations, this literary tradition became the voice of the burgeoning middle class.

The novels of Charles Dickens in the nineteenth century often cast a satirical gaze upon the era's financial and industrial transformations. From the enduring The Christmas Story (1843) to later masterpieces like Bleak House (1852-1853), Little Dorrit (1855-1857), and Our Mutual Friend (1864-1865), Dickens paints a vivid portrait of London as a dystopian nightmare for those hindered by low social standing and scant education, rendering them unable to compete. As Dickens matured, his disdain for the era's selfishness intensified. In Our Mutual Friend, he portrays a London where towering heaps of rubbish yield fortunes, while the Thames, now a foul sewer, harbors corpses amidst the general detritus.

With equal scorn, Dickens scrutinizes the pretentious airs of high society, personified by characters like the Podsnaps and Veneerings. His portrayal of London echoes how Joyce and Fuentes later depict the urban sprawls of Dublin and Mexico City in the twentieth century, capturing a city both vibrant and decaying in its relentless momentum.

Many of Fuentes's other novels breathe life into both Mexico's storied past and its mythological tapestry. In the epic work Terra Nostra (1975), which stands as the lengthiest narrative by a contemporary Latin American author, he transports readers to the age of the Spanish conquistadors and the colonial era of Mexico. Meanwhile, The Hydra Head (1978) plunges into the bustling heart of modern Mexico City. With The Old Gringo (1985), Fuentes intricately weaves a tale that delves into the Revolution while exploring the intricate bond between Mexico and the United States. Across his novels, history is richly interwoven with the threads of mythology.

Sources

Dwyer, John P., ‘‘Conversation with a Blue Novelist,’’ in Review, Vol. 12, Fall, 1974, pp. 54-8.

Gilman, Richard, "The Self-Conscious Culture of Modern Mexico,’’ in Commonweal, 1961, pp. 510-11.

Krauze, Enrique, "The Guerilla Dandy,'' in The New Republic, Vol. 198, No. 26, June 27, 1988, pp. 28-34, 36-38.

Leal, Luis, "History and Myth in the Narrative of Carlos Fuentes,’’ in Carlos Fuentes: A Critical View, edited by Robert Brody and Charles Rossman, University of Texas Press, 1982, pp. 3-17.

Maloff, Saul, ‘‘Growing Pains of a Bourgeois,’’ in Saturday Review, Vol. XLIV, No. 50, December 16, 1961, pp. 20-1.

van Delden, Maarten, ‘‘Myth, Contingency, and Revolution in Carlos Fuentes's La region mas transparente,’’ in Comparative Literature, Vol. 43, No. 4, Fall, 1991, pp. 326-45.

West, Anthony, ‘‘The Whole Life,’’ in the New Yorker, March 4, 1961, pp. 123-25.

Further Reading

Cortazar, Julia, Hopscotch, translated by Gregory Rabassa, Pantheon Books, 1987.
Originally published as Rayuela in 1963, Cortazar's book of "El Boom'' soon transcended his generation. The work is a rare example of the truly innovative surviving the moment of its publication.
According to a plan Cortazar sets forth, the reader must arrange the pieces of this open-ended novel into a whole.

van Delden, Maarten, Carlos Fuentes, Mexico, and Modernity, Vanderbilt University Press, 1998.
Van Delden discusses the various modernist philosophies reflected upon throughout Fuentes' fiction. These include Fuentes' use of existentialism as well as his utilization of theories of national identity construction.

Faris, Wendy, ‘‘The Development of a Collective Voice: Where the Air Is Clear,’’ in Carlos Fuentes, Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1983.
Faris explores the ways in which Fuentes' Where the Air Is Clear builds communication between his characters through memory, myth, and personal and national identity.

Fuentes, Carlos, A New Time for Mexico, translated by Marina G. Gutman, University of California Press, 1997.
At the end of the twentieth century, Fuentes looks back on Mexico's history since the Mexican Revolution of 1910. From that moment of liberation, Fuentes argues, Mexico has stumbled along a path toward authoritarianism that resulted in the long rule of the PRI. This reflection includes Fuentes' conversation with the Zapatista spokesman, Subcommander Marcos.

Fuentes, Carlos, The Crystal Frontier: A Novel in Nine Stories, translated by Alfred J. Mac Adam and Alfred M. Adam, Farrar, Straus, 1997.
This recent work by Fuentes weaves together nine stories to show the state of tension and space that exists between Mexico and the U.S. The work is a meditation on border relations suggesting that crystalline walls, not razor wire, separate gringos and Mexicans. This is a shame since the two are destined to live together.

Krauze, Enrique, Mexico: Biography of Power: A History of Modern Mexico, 1810-1996, translated by Hank Heifetz, Harperperennial Library, 1998.
This new history of Mexico uses the biographies of men who controlled or struggled for control of that nation during the past two centuries. The most interesting aspect of Krauze's work is his argument that the caudilloa leader had a tremendous influence on Mexican history. Men's fortunes rose and fell depending on their proper use of this role.

Poniatowska, Elena, Massacre in Mexico, translated by Helen R. Lane, University of Missouri Press, 1992.
Originally published as La noche de Tlatelolco in 1971 and containing an introduction by Octavio Paz, this work has been since claimed as a masterpiece of documentary work. Poniatowska recounts the events of the 1968 massacre using information gathered through interviews. The work and the author have created controversy on both sides of the political aisle ever since.

Reeve, Richard M., ‘‘The Making of La region mas transparente: 1949-1974,’’ in Carlos Fuentes, A Critical View, edited by Robert Brody and Charles Rossman, University of Texas Press, 1982.
Fuentes' novel aroused some controversy for a number of years after publication because it seemed to describe real people and real events. Reeve discusses the making of the book as a reflection of the events of the time period and Fuentes' biography.

Silko, Leslie Marmon, Almanac of the Dead: A Novel, Penguin, 1992.
Partially responsible for the boom in fiction by indigenous people of the U.S., Silko's monster novel, Almanac of the Dead, follows magical realism more closely than Ceremony (1977). The novel centers on Tucson but involves illegal border crossing, drug dealing, prophecy, and the historical consciousness that the American Southwest is not American. In fact, the illegality of activities along the border merely continues 500 years of struggle against the European invaders.