Pocho by José Antonio Villarreal

Villarreal, José Antonio. Pocho. 1959. Garden City, NY: Anchor Books, 1970.

Summary:

The third person narrative follows Richard Rubio, most of the time, who grows up in the Central Valley of California. It describes his trajectory from young, precocious boy to young adulthood, when he chooses to go into the navy.

Although there is no direct climax to the novel, the underlying anguish is how Richard is to navigate family, society, and individual identity. He is not an unlikable character, but he is also not a clear cut hero. He’s snobby, arrogant, and selfish. However, at times he is compassionate, genuine, and thoughtful about the complex situations everyone in his Santa Clara town is in.

The span of the narrative from immediately after the Mexican Revolution (from the father, Juan Rubio’s character) to California in the 1940s, to the Second World War, is impressive. It ends with Richard joining the Navy. This is connected, to me, to the Hemispheric American Studies question, “what if we see history as a continuum?” In this novel, the history of Mexico, the U.S., and even Japan, is not separate, but clearly influencing (and confusing) the population of each character.

Themes:

– Mexican family tranditions

– the variety of Mexican populations, particularly in the U.S.

– history – with Mexican Revolution and Villa characterizations at the start

– identity connected to individuality and free choice

– sexuality: violence, love, masturbation, homosexuality, and infidelity

– religion, specifically of the Catholic family

Quotes:

“he did not really believe there was a Mexican cause – at least not in the world with which he was familiar” (175)

– father as a Hollywood extra (133)

– desire for something beyond a family and marriage (131)

– explanation of why Spaniards and Mexicans have a complex history between Mexico and U.S. (100)

Response:

I liked this book (and may have even read it before as a young adult) more than I thought I would. It has a complex vision of the Mexican American experience without nationalist tendencies like some Chicano pieces. It is, however, highly masculine and full of bravado. It is also very clear that Tomás Rivera’s …And the Earth Did Not Swallow Him is working off of Villarreal’s themes. The young boy is introspective, and sees things for what they are. The scenes in the graveyards from Rivera’s novel are almost extensions of Villarreal’s work.