We continue The Indy’s Beyond Borges series with Ricardo Güiraldes, author of one of the two most important regional novels to have emerged from Latin America during the 20th century.

In his epic ‘Don Segundo Sombra’, Güiraldes transformed the cultural heritage of the Argentine gaucho into an enduring national myth, resulting in the celebration of his novel as an instant classic and the elegy of a bygone era.

Ricardo Güiraldes (Photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

Early life

Himself resembling an escaped character from a fin de siècle novel, Güiraldes led a lifestyle that was simultaneously decadent and bohemian.

The son of a wealthy member of the Argentine oligarchy, he was born in the rural town of San Antonio de Areco in 1886. His family moved to Paris when he was only one year old, and settled in an upscale neighbourhood near the Rue Saint-Claude.

With French and German as his first and second languages, and Castellano as his third, the family returned to Argentina in 1890 where he began his education.

In Argentina, his time was divided between Buenos Aires and his father’s estancia, La Porteña, in San Antonio de Areco. It was there that he came across the men who would lend free rein to his writing. His father’s employee, Segundo Ramírez, was to be Güiraldes’ teacher in the practical matters of rural life but also provided the inspiration for at least one of his short stories, as well as the basis for the eponymous character in the novel that would establish his fame.

Having studied architecture before switching to law in 1905, Güiraldes completed neither and instead sailed for France, where in the company of artists, musicians and writers, he developed an interest in ethics and metaphysics that would lead his writing beyond traditional themes to more universal ideas of religion and philosophy.

Spiritually restless, but satiated by recent overseas travel in Italy, Greece, Constantinople, Egypt, Russia, Japan, and Germany, it was in Paris, in the workshop of Argentine sculptor Alberto Lagos, that Güiraldes decided to dedicate himself to writing.

As at home in the salons of Paris as on the estancias of San Antonio de Areco, Güiraldes would return to again and again to the French capital, eventually dying there in 1927.

Early Writing

Following his return to Buenos Aires and his marriage to porteña Adelina del Carril in 1913, Güiraldes published his first book of short stories and a book of poetry together in 1915.

‘Cuentos de muerte y de sangre’ and ‘El cencerro de cristal’ were both overlooked by critics, but ‘Raucho’, written and published two years later, was more a sketch of what would follow in ‘Don Segundo Sombra’.

Güiraldes' novel served as an elegy of a bygone era (Photo: Eduardo Amorim)

Its protagonist, a man who leaves the Argentine countryside for Paris but returns an educated and cultured individual, drew a likeness with Güiraldes himself, and later reappeared in the closing chapters of ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ as the well-travelled teacher and companion of the book’s narrator.

A second novel, originally published in a literary review as ‘Un idilio de estación’ in 1818, was later republished in book form. Dedicated to one of his sisters, ‘Rosaura’ told the story of a blossoming romance between a woman of society and a well-travelled, handsome stranger passing through Lobos train station, who promises to open her eyes to a world beyond the limited scope of rural Argentina.

Indeed, almost all of Güiraldes’ literature concerns itself with the difficulty of settling upon a national identity that could blend the traditions of the past with the ideals for the future.

Conveying the collective concerns of many Argentines at the turn of the 20th century, his writing sought to recover the lost identities of his readers, and ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ in particular, met the demand for a rose tinted perspective on a past that many Argentines did not know but were eager to accept.

The Creation of an Instant Classic

Güiraldes’ ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ is a classic coming of age tale that follows an inexperienced and orphaned young gaucho as he becomes a man under the care of an older and accomplished mentor, Don Segundo.

The first ten chapters had been written in Paris as early as 1920, but it was not completed until 1926 when a wave of Argentine immigration had led to a resurgence of interest in the gaucho. Unlike the social and political interest that had accompanied the genre the first time around, the renewed interest stemmed more from nostalgia and a need for understanding.

Written when gaucho culture had already perished, the novel was less a reflection of national spirit – as gauchesque literature had typically been – and more a lament for something lost.

'Don Segundo Sombra' cemented the stereotype of the Argentine gaucho (Photo: Eduardo Amorim)

Güiraldes’ gaucho entered literature already an emblem of the past, and is often held up as the image of a true gaucho.

Having journeyed in Argentine writing from the uncivilised barbarian put forward by Domingo Faustino Sarmiento, through Bartolomé Hidalgo’s courageous and patriotic war hero, Estanislao del Campo’s backward and uncultured laughing stock and José Hernández’s persecuted citizen-turned-criminal; Güiraldes’ stylised portrayal helped cement a positive and prevailing image of the Argentine gaucho.

But whilst the novel marked a return to the themes of the gauchesque and was in keeping with the genre in that it assumed the voice of a gaucho narrator, ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ made little attempt to imitate the same local vocabulary or dialect found in earlier examples of gaucho literature.

In employing the polished techniques of European writers in a work that was at once European in flair and Argentine in nature, Güiraldes essentially refined the Latin American novel.

Reaching a new generation and a new audience, ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ was heralded an instant classic.

As the first novel to receive such immediate acclaim and the last important writing to emerge on the gaucho theme, it gained more critical attention during the 20th century than perhaps any other work of Argentine writing.

Retaining its relevance and its following several generations on, ‘Don Segundo Sombra’ remains one of the most-treasured texts in Argentine writing, and is still considered the masterpiece of all literature pertaining to the Argentine gaucho.

The third in our ‘Beyond Borges‘ series, the poet, playwright and novelist José Mármol follows hot on the heels of August’s Esteban Echeverría and Domingo Faustino Sarmiento, completing a trio of prominent mid-19th century romantics.

Jose Mármol

Mármol is most known for his semi-autobiographical fiction ‘Amalia’ which, when it was published in its entirety in 1854, constituted the first full-length Argentine novel.

Born in Buenos Aires in 1818, he’d grown up to be a vehement opposer of ruling federalist politician Juan Manuel de Rosas and had abandoned his university studies amidst the flurry of a growing opposition movement.

Mármol fled Argentina in 1840 at the height of Rosas’ regime. He lived in exile in Montevideo alongside several other Argentine authors, including fellow romantic writer Echeverría. Having been arrested a year before for distributing anti-Rosas literature, he claims he wrote his first poetry against the dictator from his prison cell.

Like his contemporaries, Mármol had similar ideas of what could be expressed through literature, and took advantage of the freer climate which existed in Uruguay to write from exile. There he founded several journals – among them ‘La Semana’ – through which he launched scathing attacks on Rosas and earned himself the nickname “the poetic hangman”.

His journalism and poetry took a no-holds-barred approach, as demonstrated in his poem ‘A Rosas, el 25 de Mayo de 1843′, which directly and strongly denounced the Argentine ruler. The poem is noted for its 14 syllable alexandrine lines, a structure which was at that time more commonly associated with the 12 syllable equivalent of the French and English poets.

Although chronologically Echeverría was the forerunner to romanticism in Argentina, the influence of the European romantics was evident not only in Mármol’s poetry but also in his plays ‘El poeta’ and ‘El cruzado’. His celebrated autobiographical poem ‘El peregrino’ for example, spans 12 cantos and draws comparisons with the narrative poetry of leading English romantic Lord Byron, as well as the poetry of some Argentine contemporaries.

Mármol took Echeverría’s same sordid vision of Argentina under Rosas, and expanded and deepened it in the realistic fiction ‘Amalia’ – a tragic tale of two young lovers caught up in the anti-Rosas movement.

The heroine of the story is an indigenous woman living in Buenos Aires, whose life transpires between the polarisation of barbarism and civilisation. She falls for Eduardo while she and her cousin Daniel are sheltering him from military persecution, but before the trio can make their escape, Rosas’ federalist henchmen arrive.

The combined use of costumbrismo alongside romanticism paints a detailed picture of life under a violent dictatorship, resulting in ‘Amalia’ being held up as an early example of social romanticism. Because the novel mixes fictional characters with several living figures, it can also be labelled a historical novel, and along with Sarmiento’s ‘Facundo’ it is considered a precursor to the important genre of ‘dictator novel’ which would later appear in Latin American literature.

Juan Manuel de Rosas

Mármol started writing ‘Amalia’ in Uruguay in 1844 and, as Sarmiento had done with ‘Facundo’, began publishing it as a feuilleton inside ‘La semana’ review in 1851. The serials were discontinued following the fall of Rosas in 1852, when Mármol returned to live in Argentina after a period of more than 12 years in exile.

The first edition of ‘Amalia’ as a complete novel appeared in Argentina in 1854 and was immediately adopted as Argentina’s national novel. Although the love story which ran through it accounted for a large portion of its appeal, the book respected certain traits of the serial format and didn’t come together especially well as a single novel.

Mármol’s literary style has since come under fire for borrowing too much from European writers of the time, and for lacking the quality of Sarmiento’s ‘Facundo’ and the authenticity of Echeverría’s ‘El matadero’. Renowned Argentine critic David Viñas observed that his greatest aesthetic achievements came when he wrote about barbarism in crude realistic terms, and when writing about his protagonist Amalia, his writing became too ornamental and rhetorical.

Contemporary reviews occasionally draw comparison with Scottish romantic novelist Sir Walter Scott, and whilst nowadays the novel finds its reader base mostly among students of romantic or 19th-century literature, it enjoyed enormous popularity for over a century in Argentina.

In 1914 the book was adapted for silent film – making ‘Amalia’ not only Argentina’s first full-length novel, but also the first feature-length Argentine film production.

Mármol’s career as an author ended with ‘Amalia’, as though his inspiration to write left along with Rosas, and while a succession of anti-Rosas novels followed in its footsteps, none were as well received as this landmark first novel. Shortly thereafter, he assumed the position of director of Argentina’s National Library, joining the likes of Marcos Sastre, whose bookstore provided the setting of the Generation of 37′s literary salon 20 years earlier, in an impressive line-up of directors considered crucial in the makeup of Argentina’s intellectual and historical fabric.

Along with Buenos Aires’ nomination as UNESCO’s World Book Capital for 2011 came a symbolic acknowledgement of Argentina’s commitment to the countrywide promotion of literature and reading.

Inside Argentina's iconic National Library (Photo: Tanoka)

Between last April and the coming April then, when Armenia’s capital Yereven will take over the title, we might reasonably expect to see some well-deserved promotion of home-grown authors, a hopeful boom in translation and a peaked interest in the country’s national literature. But with the exception of a few big-name cards, Argentina keeps her hand close to her chest with remarkable modesty.

Launching this Thursday, The Argentina Independent’s new ‘Beyond Borges’ series brings you a selection of the best known poets, essayists, short story writers and novelists whose writing has influenced and shaped the course of Argentine and Latin American literature.

In bi-weekly installments, we’ll introduce you to some of Argentina’s most-loved writers and landmark texts; beginning with the romantic writers and gauchesque poets of the 19th century and continuing through the heavyweights of 20th century literature, right up to some award-winning present day writers and those tipped as ones to watch.

Our ‘Beyond Borges’ series not only offers the opportunity to discover new authors and even genres you might not have read before, but also promises an enjoyable and more subconscious insight into the historical events and cultures that have shaped present day Argentina– without picking up a single history book!

So feel free to dip in and out of this new series, exploring our collection of Argentina’s most interesting and influential writers. For those of you who find yourselves with a budding interest in local literature but don’t know beyond Borges – this one’s for you.