Malinche Spanish Version: Novela - Softcover

Esquivel, Laura

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0743290364 ISBN 13: 9780743290364

Verlag: Atria Books, 2008

Inhaltsangabe

Cuando Malinalli conoce a Hernán Cortés, asume que se trata del propio Dios Quetzalcóatl que regresa a liberar a su pueblo. Los dos se enamoran apasionadamente, pero este amor pronto es destruido por la desmedida sed de conquista, poder y riqueza de Cortés.

A lo largo de la historia de México Malinalli/Malinche ha sido conocida por su traición al pueblo indio. Pero recientes investigaciones históricas han demostrado que Malinalli fue la mediadora entre dos culturas, la hispánica y la indígena; y entre dos lenguas, el español y el náhuatl.

Lo que Esquivel ha hecho en esta novela es desafiar la mitología tradicional mediante un retrato muy temperamental del Adán y la Eva de la cultura mestiza, Cortés y Malinalli, con la caída del imperio azteca como telón de fondo. Contada con el lirismo de la tradición cantarina y pictórica del náhuatl, Laura Esquivel nos brinda un mito fundacional de la cultura híbrida del Nuevo Mundo y una extraordinaria historia de amor.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Laura Esquivel was born in Mexico City in 1950. Her first novel, Like Water for Chocolate, has sold more than four and a half million copies around the world and remained on the New York Times bestseller list for more than a year. She currently lives in Mexico.

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Malinche

NovelaBy Laura Esquivel

Atria Books

Copyright © 2008 Laura Esquivel
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780743290364

Chapter One

First came the wind. Later, like a flash of lightning, like a silver tongue in the heavens over the Valley of Anáhuac, a storm appeared that would wash the blood from the stones. After the sacrifice, the city darkened and thunderous eruptions were heard. Then, a silver serpent appeared in the sky, seen distinctly from many different places. And it began to rain in such a way as had been rarely seen. All afternoon and evening it rained and through the following day as well. For three days the rains would not cease. It rained so hard that the priests and wise men of Anáhuac became alarmed. They were accustomed to listening to and interpreting the voice of the water, but on this occasion they insisted that not only was Tláloc, God of Rain, trying to tell them something but that by means of the water he had allowed a new light to fall over them, a new vision that would bring a dif-ferent meaning to their lives, and although they did not yet clearly know what it was, they could feel it in their hearts. Before their minds could correctly interpret the depth of this message that the waters revealed as they fell, the rains stopped and a radiant sun was reflected in myriad places among the small lakes and rivers and canals that had been left brimming with water.

That day, far from the Valley of Anáhuac, in the region of Painala, a woman struggled to give birth to her first child. The sound of the rain drowned out her groans. Her mother-in-law, who was acting as midwife, did not know whether to pay more attention to her daughter-in-law about to give birth or to the message of the god Tláloc.

It didn't take long for her to decide in favor of her son's wife. It was a difficult delivery. In spite of her long experience, she had never been present at such a birth. While washing the mother-to-be in the bathhouse just prior to the delivery, she had failed to notice that the fetus was in the wrong position. Everything had seemed to be in order, yet the anticipated birth was taking longer than usual. Her daughter-in-law had been naked and squatting for quite a long while and still couldn't deliver. The mother-in-law, realizing that the unborn was unable to pass through the pelvic channel, began to prepare the obsidian knife with which she cut into pieces the fetuses that could not be birthed. She would do this inside the wombs of the mothers, so that they could easily expel them, thus sparing at least their own lives. But suddenly, the future grandmother, kneeling in front of her daughter-in-law, saw the head of the fetus poke out of the vagina and then shrink back a moment later, which probably meant that the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck. Then, just as suddenly, a small head poked out from between its mother's legs with the umbilical cord caught in its mouth, as if a snake was gagging the infant. The grandmother took the sight as a message from the god Quetzalcóatl, who in the form of a serpent was coiled around the neck and mouth of her future grandchild. The grandmother quickly took the opportunity to disentangle the cord with her finger. For a few moments, which seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. The hard rain was the only sound that accompanied the moans of the young mother.

After the waters had spoken, a great silence took root and was broken only by the cries of a young baby girl whom they named Malinalli, since she was born under the third sign of the sixth house. The grandmother shouted like a warrior to let everyone know that her daughter-in-law, a great fighter, had come out victorious in the battle between life and death. She pressed the granddaughter to her bosom and kissed her again and again.

Thus the newborn, daughter of the Tlatoani of Painala, was welcomed into her paternal grandmother's arms. The grandmother sensed that the girl was destined to lose everything so that she might gain everything. Because only those who empty themselves can be filled anew. In emptiness is the light of understanding, and the body of that child was like a beautiful vessel that could be filled to overflowing with the most precious jewels -- the flower and song of her ancestors -- but not so that they would remain there forever, but rather so that they could be remade, transformed and emptied anew.

What the grandmother could not yet understand was that the first loss the girl would experience in her life was far too soon at hand and, much less, that she herself would be strongly affected by it. Just as the Earth had first dreamed about the flowers, the trees, the lakes and rivers on its surface, so had the grandmother dreamed about the girl. The last thing she would have thought at that moment was that she could lose her. Witnessing the miracle of life was powerful enough to prevent her from dwelling on death in any of its manifestations: abandonment, loss, disappearance. No, the only thing her body and mind wanted to celebrate was life. So the grandmother, who had so actively participated in the birth, looked on joyful and spellbound at how Malinalli opened her eyes and shook her arms vigorously. After kissing her on the brow, she placed her in the arms of her father, the Lord of Painala, and proceeded to carry out the first ritual after a birth, the cutting of the umbilical cord. She did it with an obsidian blade that she had prepared just for the occasion. The blade had been polished with such care that it seemed more like a resplendent black mirror than a knife. At the moment of cutting, the piece of obsidian captured the rays of the sun filtered through the thatched roof and their intense reflection was focused on the grandmother's face. The magnificent rays of the solar star knifed into the grandmother's pupils with such force that they irremediably damaged her sight. At that moment she thought that maybe this was the meaning of the reflections, a coming nearer to the light. She also understood that in helping her daughter-in-law give birth she had become a link in the feminine chain created by countless generations of women who assisted each other in childbirth.

The grandmother then carefully placed the child at her mother's breast so that she could be welcomed into this world. On hearing her mother's heartbeat, the girl knew she was in the right place and stopped crying. The grandmother took the placenta outside to bury it by a tree in the courtyard of the house. The ground was so heavy with the rains that the burial was made half in earth, half in water. The other half of Malinalli's umbilical cord was drowned in the earth. With it, life was sown anew, returning to the earth of its origin. The cord that binds the earth with the heavens ceded nourishment to nourishment.

A few days later, the grandmother herself baptized the girl, for tradition stated that the midwife who had brought the child into the world would have that honor. The ceremony took place at sunrise. The girl wore a huipil, a traditional sleeveless dress, and tiny jewelry that the grandmother and mother had personally made for her. They placed a small clay washbowl in the middle of the patio and next to it arranged a small trunk, a spindle, and a weaving shuttle.

In beautifully decorated ceramic stoves they burned copal. The grandmother carried a censer, and directing it toward the spot where the sun was beginning to rise, she spoke to the wind:

"God of the Gusts, stir my fan, raise me to you, lend me your...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Atria Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2008
• Sprache: Spanisch
• ISBN 10: 0743290364
• ISBN 13: 9780743290364
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 224
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland