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Richards, Henry J. "The Opening Chapters of Nelson Estupiñán Bass's
Last Novel, <span style="font-style: italic;">Al norte de Dios</span>"
["Lucifer: The Other Son of God"], <span style="font-style: italic;">Afro-Hispanic
Review</span>, 22: 1 (Spring 2003), pp. 78-94.<br>
<br>
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: <span style="font-style: italic;">Curfew</span>
(Toque de queda), <span style="font-style: italic;">Pastrana's Last
River</span> (Ultimo río), <span style="font-style: italic;">When the
Guayacans Were in Bloom</span> (Cuando los guayacanes florecían). I
hope one day Richards will complete a translation of the novel under
review.<br>
<br>
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. <br>
<br>
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.<br>
<br>
I like this novel already.<br>
<br>
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.<br>
<br>
EXCERPT [pp. 81-82]:<br>
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<font face="Times New Roman"><big><big><big><font size="3"><big><big><big><span
style="font-size: 7pt; font-family: Arial;">A QUICK TOUR<o:p></o:p></span></big></big></big></font></big></big>
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<br>
<big><big><font size="3"><big><big><big><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">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 <b
style="">Esperanto*</b><span style="">." "And </span></span><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">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 </span><b style=""><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">Esperanto </span></b><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">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 </span><span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">had
a special bond with the enthusiastic young black man who
had made the trip from heaven with me.<o:p></o:p></span></big></big></big></font></big></big>
<br>
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<br>
<big><big><font size="3"><big><big><big><span
style="font-size: 7pt; font-family: Arial;">JESUS' HALLUCINATION <o:p></o:p></span></big></big></big></font></big></big>
<br>
<big><big><font size="3"><big><big><big><span
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</font><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><big><big><big><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">Five days after my
arrival, I had a good command
<span style="">of</span><b style=""> Esperanto. </b></span><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">I understood it and spoke
it with some fluency. I was
surprised at the learning process and, like the </span><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">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</span><b style=""><span
style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">
Esperanto</span></b><span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">.
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</span><b style=""><span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">
</span></b><span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Arial;">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?" </span></big></big></big></font><small><font
size="3"><big><big><small><small>[ . . . .]</small></small></big></big></font></small></big><small><small><small>
</small></small></small><br>
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