[Membroj] Esperanto in Hell

[Ralph Dumain]

Richards, Henry J. "The Opening Chapters of Nelson Estupiñán Bass's Last 
Novel, Al norte de Dios" ["Lucifer: The Other Son of God"], 
Afro-Hispanic Review, 22: 1 (Spring 2003), pp. 78-94.

This is my first acquaintance with the late Afro-Ecuadorian writer 
Nelson Estupiñán Bass, but I am already intrigued. Three of his novels 
have been translated in English: Curfew (Toque de queda), Pastrana's 
Last River (Ultimo río), When the Guayacans Were in Bloom (Cuando los 
guayacanes florecían). I hope one day Richards will complete a 
translation of the novel under review.

The novel begins auspiciously. God is troubled by the increasing 
disorder of his creation. He doesn't like taking the rap for the 
problems on Earth. He summons his son Jesus and blames Jesus for 
discharging his mission to Earth ineptly, inflating himself to God-like 
proportions, distorting God's teachings, inspiring the Crusades and the 
Inquisition, arrogating to himself the right to judge humanity and 
classifying mankind into the saved and the damned, and engaging in cheap 
magic tricks to impress the multitude. Jesus protests this judgment in 
vain, but God decides to imprison him in a cell in hell for a year. 
Jesus's cell will be in the proximity of Hitler, Mussolini, Hitler, 
Harry Truman and others, so that Jesus can confront evil and hypocrisy 
once again. Later we see Jesus taunted in his cell by a voluptuous 
prostitute whom he mistakes for Mary Magdalene.

God summons his other son Lucifer and proposes a secret mission (of 
which the reader is not yet apprised) to take on Jesus' failed mission. 
Beezlebub is unrepentant, but agrees to this mission. God commissions 
him to rewrite and Genesis to reflect advances in cosmology as well as 
the menace of global destruction. God and Lucifer engage in wide-ranging 
political discussion--quite different from the usual conversation one is 
likely to have in the USA--prior to Satan's embarkation on his new mission.
       
I like this novel already.

The next chapter is the revelation of Sister Etelvinamy,  a special 
guest who is taken on a tour of Hell and introduced to its 
infrastructure, institutions, and practices. But before she can engage 
the inhabitants, she must confront the language barrier.

EXCERPT [pp. 81-82]:


A QUICK TOUR
 
Desirous of becoming acquainted with what there was in hell, I went back 
to Satan's office. Beelzebub, seated at a table near the entrance, was 
examining the new dossiers. The prisoners were half‑naked. They were 
sawing and planing logs, building boxes of varying sizes and assembling 
staircases and furniture. They were casting parts for motors, rifles and 
cannons, connecting up radios and computers and designing plans for 
tanks, submarines and space ships. They were making gas masks and 
packing frogmen's gear. Chemists were discussing new weapons, and 
shoemakers and tailors were creating elegant footwear and garments. The 
automobile assembly plant occupied about four hectares. I went to my 
villa and returned wearing shorts, bra and sandals; I noticed that the 
prisoners, who earlier were indifferent to my presence, were now avidly 
eyeing my thirty-five year old body. I pretended not to notice that 
change. I asked an Englishman, a Chinese fellow and an East Indian about 
the state of their health. From the signs made with their hands and 
their heads and the strange words they uttered, I realized that they had 
not understood my question and that they were speaking what for me was 
an unintelligible language. A fourth, individual, a Frenchman, said to 
me: "This is confidential, and I don't want you to say anything about it 
to His Majesty (he smiled). Speaking the language that we spoke during 
our lifetime is forbidden here, under penalty of severe punishment; all 
of us speak only *Esperanto**." "And how will I learn that language?" I 
asked in astonishment. "Don't worry," he exclaimed. "For now, you'll be 
able to talk to that damned polyglot, who rules over us, in your 
language, but starting tonight, you'll receive instruction in the new 
language in your sleep." Surprised, I asked him: "Don't you learn 
*Esperanto *in the same way you learn it back there on Earth?" He 
replied: "This evil one knows more about every field than all of the 
experts combined and at times it seems to me that he even knows more 
than God. Go on now, and don't tell anyone what I told you." I thanked 
him, happy to know that in a short time I would be speaking and 
understanding Esperanto. The noise of the machines and of the work being 
done by the prisoners was so loud that I mistakenly thought that it 
could be heard for many leagues around. I approached Mephistopheles. 
"You must be surprised," he said to me. "We all work here, according to 
our abilities. And that's why I employ specialists in technical 
training." "And what about me?" I asked. "You're a visitor and can do 
something if you want to and can stay for as long as you like," was his 
reply. "Won't it bother you if I stay here?" I asked. And he quickly 
replied: "Why should it bother me? I have nothing to hide. On the 
contrary, I'll be happy for you to get to know my empire like the back 
of your hand. You can go wherever you want." I began to feel that I had 
a special bond with the enthusiastic young black man who had made the 
trip from heaven with me.
 
JESUS' HALLUCINATION
 
Five days after my arrival, I had a good command of* Esperanto. *I 
understood it and spoke it with some fluency. I was surprised at the 
learning process and, like the Frenchman, I, too, considered Beelzebub a 
wise man. One afternoon, as I was watching him work, he approached a 
prisoner, who was hammering on an iron plate. He took the man by the 
arm, and they both headed to Beelzebub's off ice. He offered the man a 
seat, sat down in a gold armchair, placed his elbows on a gold table and 
began to talk to him about a project. The guest made the following 
request: "Speak to me in my language; I hate that damned* Esperanto*. I 
defend and will always defend my language." "But Spanish is not your 
language," Lucifer countered. "Don't you know that it was ruthlessly 
imposed on you by the Spanish thieves? I've decreed the use of* 
*Esperanto here because I consider it a medium for stimulating universal 
brotherhood. Since you reject that notion, and also so that you may 
reaffirm what you have persisted in calling your identity, we'll speak 
in Spanish." Satan roared with a laughter that seemed to make the ground 
shake and that eclipsed the noise of the machines for a few seconds. 
"You think that you've hidden your nationality, don't you?" Lucifer said 
to the man. "From the moment you arrived, I knew that you were from 
Molumbia. You still don't regret killing and having so many people 
killed?" [ . . . .]
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