A Comparison of "Aria" and "...y no se lo trago la tierra"

Both Tomas Rivera’s experimental narrative, …And the Earth Did Not Devour Him, and the chapter “Aria” from Richard Rodriguez’ self-reflecting childhood memoir, Hunger of Memory, are successfully able to project the migrant experience onto the reader, and expose them to a facet of American life that was previously ignored. What stands out in both of these stories is how the respective authors portray the alienation and separateness that they felt from “gringo” society. However, both men have drastically different methods of conveying their estrangement; while Rivera largely resorts to metaphor and parable, appealing to a more visceral and immersive sensibility, Rodriguez’ more conventional auto-biography emphasizes the importance of language in the formation of one’s identity, providing a more realistic portrait.

Segments such as “The Lost Year” and “It’s That It Hurts” from Earth particularly concern themselves with the disorientation and confusion of culture shock. This imagery is more directly employed in the prior, with the description of a boy losing his identity and becoming disconnected from his surroundings to the point that he “even forgot the name he had been called” (83). Similarly, the latter of the stories, though more literal in its reading, similarly depicts the solitude of its protagonist, only this time in the context of the modern school environment. In the story, the boy blames the community for his feelings of seclusion, citing instances of discrimination by “gringos,” such as being separated from the rest of the students in a classroom, and being singled out and stereotyped by a bully. At one point, he comments, “This one didn’t laugh at me” (93), implying that this is by no means an isolated incident, and that his less hostile classmates will often settle for discrimination from afar. Though these short stories are not meant to be taken as factual accounts, one can assume that Rivera himself experienced similar bigotry growing up in Texas among migrant workers.

“Aria,” despite presenting a similar theme, has a completely different conclusion about the significance of separation. While Rivera portrays the public as hostile and inaccessible to Chicano citizens, Rodriguez stresses the importance of Mexican Americans to incorporate themselves into this society, and form a public identity in addition to their private selves. According to him, being set apart from others is not equitable with forming individuality; he argues that one needs “inmates,” i.e. family, in order to define their independence. Language is used as a symbol of this duality, the thing separating the private from the public. To him, assimilation into American life is not detrimental to the Chicano movement, but, as portrayed by him, essential in order for young immigrants to be able to rise above their migrant backgrounds. Ultimately, he concluded movements such as bilingual education deprived children of “the right – and the obligation – to speak the public language of los gringos” (19).

Truly, these are two wildly differing interpretations of the role of Chicanos, and the responsibility that America has towards them. In today’s society, does Richard Rodriguez’ philosophy still apply, if it ever did? On what issues would these two authors, Rodriguez and Rivera, be in arrogance?