Readings from Modern Mexican Authors

by Unknown

Victoriano Agüeros was born September 4, 1854, in the pueblo of Tlalchapa, in the State of Guerrero. His father was a Spaniard, his mother a Mexican. Young Victoriano was given good opportunity for education, being sent, at twelve years of age, to the Capital city where he attended the Ateneo Mexicano. In 1870 he was qualified to teach in primary schools. In 1877 he entered the National School of Jurisprudence and was admitted to the practice of law December 19, 1881.

He commenced literary work when but sixteen or seventeen years of age, signing his productions with the name “José.” Using this nom-de-plume he published his Ensayos de José (Essays of José) in 1877. This was followed by Cartas Literarias (Literary Letters) and Dos Leyendas por José (Two Legends by José). Shortly after he published a series of articles—Escritores Mexicanos Contemporaneos (Contemporary Mexican Authors)—in the literary journal, La Ilustracion Espanola y Americana, of Madrid. This was reprinted in book form and gave the author deserved credit. Confidencias y Recuerdos (Confidences and Recollections) completes the list of Agüeros’s books.

Renouncing law for literature Señor Agüeros became editor of El Imparcial (The Impartial) but shortly after, on July 1, 1883, he founded and has ever since, conducted, El Tiempo (The Time), the most conservative of the periodicals published in the Mexican capital. During the twenty years and more that have passed since then his pen has been well employed. His editorials are always carefully written and—though ultra-conservative—are marked by thought and judgment. No modern Mexican writer uses Spanish in a more accurate and graceful way. As a literary critic he ranks high, though it is difficult for him to see aught of good in the radical and liberal movement of the day or in those who are its exponents.

Deploring the neglect of the national literature by Mexican readers Señor Agüeros is attempting to arouse new interest by publishing, in uniform style, the works of the best authors under the general title Biblioteca de Autores Mexicanos (Library of Mexican Authors). The series has passed its fiftieth volume, is being well received, and is serving a most useful purpose.

THE DAY OF THE DEAD.

Las ofrendas; (the offerings) this is the custom which gives a special character to the Day of the Dead in my village. Those candles of whitest wax, those human-figure shaped loaves of bread, those crowns, those exquisite sweets which for six days have been offered for sale in the booths in the Plaza are to be deposited upon the graves in the cemetery—in such wise, that the rude bench covered with a cloth of the finest cotton, assumes the appearance of a carefully prepared table, fitted with the richest and most delicate dishes. There are placed earthen jars of syrup, dishes of wild honey in the comb, cakes made of young and tender corn—sweetened and spiced with cinnamon, preserves, vessels of holy water, and the best of whatever else the mother of the family can provide. It is the banquet which the living give to the dead....

From three in the afternoon, at which time the bell of the parish-church begins to strike the doubles, sadly and slowly, as the doubles are always struck in the villages, families sally from their houses and direct their way to the cemetery or to the church porch, where there are also some graves. There they traverse the pathways between these and by examining the crosses (not the names nor epitaphs, for there are none) they recognize the place where relatives or friends rest.... They then place the objects which they bear as the ofrenda, light the candles, sprinkle the grave with some drops of holy water, and soon after there is heard in that enclosure of the dead, the murmur of the prayers they raise to Heaven.... Thus the afternoon passes: neither curiosity, nor the desire to see, nor other profane pastime, distract the attention of these simple villagers, who, absorbed in the sanctuary of their most intimate recollections, pray and sigh with tender and deep sadness.

When the evening shadows drive them thence, they bear the ofrendas to the interior of the houses. The lights are renewed, a sort of an altar is improvised upon which are placed the objects which before were on the graves, and other prayers and other mournings begin. It is not rare to see, high in some tree in the grove, or in some solitary and retired spot, a taper which gleams, in spite of the night breeze: it is the offering for the ánima sola (the lonely soul)—that is to say, of one who has in the village neither a relative nor a friend who remembers it and decorates its grave. A bit of bread and a little taper, and a prayer repeated for it—this is what each family dedicates to the soul of that unknown one.

Thus do the poor people of my village honor the memory of the dead.