The Emergence of Romulo Gallegos as a Novelist and Social Critic

Abstract

R6mulo Gallegos began his literary career with an abortive journalistic venture, a small magazine called La Alborada.1 After only eight issues the periodical died, strangled by the heavy hand of the dictator, Juan Vicente G6mez, but Gallegos was already becoming known as a writer of essays. Since his audience proved to be somewhat limited, however, he turned to other literary forms-first to the drama, then to the short story, and finally to the novel. This transition was quite in keeping with Venezuelan tradition, for, when censorship of the press eliminated any sort of direct social criticism, writers had discovered a more subtle outlet within the framework of the novel. That there was ample cause for social criticism in Venezuela a knowledge of that country's chaotic history makes very apparent. The wars of independence had been of unusually long duration there and had resulted in the decimation of the Creole population, so that Venezuela had become largely a mestizo nation. Four caudillos, with the usual intervening periods of chaos and anarchy, dominated the country from 1830, when it had detached itself from Sim6n Bolivar's Gran Colombia, until 1935. Personalism in government, the heritage of the revolution, had been strengthened first by Jos6 Antonio Paez, nominally a conservative, and then by Antonio Guzman Blanco, dignified by his self-bestowed title of Illustrious American, who became fabulously wealthy at the nation's expense, and under whom democracy, despite the dictator's supposedly liberal leanings, remained only a pretext. His main achievement, internal peace, was nullified by revolutions beginning in 1888, which in turn engendered the usual anarchical conditions from which emerged another strong man, this time a great war lord from the Andes, Cipriano Castro, whose regime was one of extreme cruelty, even according to Venezuelan standards. He attempted to distract attention from internal matters, as well as from his repulsively sensual and shameless private life, by stirring up trouble with foreign countries. His great military reputation belonged in reality to one of his officers, Juan Vicente G6mez, another of the Andean dynasty, who himself assumed control of the country while Castro was in Europe in 1908. G6mez, a mestizo of little education but considerable intelligence, was a caudillo of capitalism who maintained himself in power successfully until his death in 1935. He never attempted to conceal the fact that he was a despot; he ran Venezuela as if it were his own private estate, and made fortunes for himself and for his hundreds of children and grandchildren while Congress, his tool, acquiesced as the nation's constitution and laws were flouted with impunity. The whole Venezuelan populace was disarmed and carefully watched; every movement which might have served as a possible basis for political revolt was crushed, thanks to an efficient spy system. The Venezuelan people were kept behind so strict a wall of censorship that they were almost wholly ignorant of progress elsewhere, and foreigners, to whom G6mez catered, were so busy with their profitable Venezuelan investments that the full extent of the dictator's iron control went largely unnoticed. G6mez did bring twenty-five years of peace to a revolt-torn land, but order was restored at the point of a