The Hidden Indian in Cortazar's “Axolotl”

Abstract

The Argentines, especially the artists, have long tilted at that psychological phantom of any pluralistic society, the cultural identity crisis. The jousting of civilization with barbarism in Sarmiento's Facundo and of civilized barbarity with barbarous civility in Martín Fierro wove a tangled maze into Argentine consciousness. Was the “true Argentine” the outward-looking porteño of Buenos Aires or the introverted gaucho of the Pampas? Should the Argentines send out feelers toward European culture or roots into the indigenous heritage? Because of such cosmic soul-searching, the labyrinthine images of Julio Cortázar's Rayuelo fit naturally into his hero Oliveira's hopscotching toward “home,” first in Paris, then in Argentina. But the Argentines, like the Chileans and Venezuelans, have not generally had a lot to say about the central theme of the Mexican and Andean artists of the twentieth century, the interaction of European and Indian identities.