Perspectives of Identity in Julio Cortázar’s Rayuela

My aim was to produce a dissertation, based on Rayuela, which focuses on Cortázar’s questioning of identity. With this objective in mind, I have studied some of the salient elements in the novel that relate to this topic and the subsequent, interrelated, areas of study that arose in doing so. The cities of Paris and Buenos Aires are placed in contrast within the novel and reflect a dichotomy that reflects Oliveira’s condition as a “foreigner,” (more specifically as a South American in Europe). This duality is further reflected in Cortázar’s use of gender, and the development of the notions of active and passive, and an investigation into the traditional modes of thought, symbols, and stereotypes, and an open-ended questioning of their validity. These topics are framed by a notion of Judeo-Christian History that is in many ways flawed and, as such, contrasts with a more intuitive (or “oriental”) perception of reality, which is centred in figures such as la Maga. I found many explicit references to Zen philosophy, and related oriental references, that led me to believe that this area was worthy of further investigation. Rayuela is considered a classic novel within the canon of Spanish language literature. It’s famous “tabla,” like the rules for a game between the writer and the receptor that produce alternative readings, has led to many discussions regarding the novel’s structure and form, and also created a certain amount of polemic with the use of concepts such as the “lector hembra.” Many consider Cortázar a greater short story writer than a novelist, but nevertheless this novel had a profound effect on young readers upon its publication, much to Cortázar’s surprise, and continues to attract readers, dealing as it does with issues that continue to be relevant to many people.

Of Structural Denial: A Narratological Study of the Structural Disintegration of the Novel Form

If an opening to the argument of this dissertation is of imperative necessity, one might tentatively begin with Herbert Quain, born in Roscommon, Ireland, author of the novels The God of the Labyrinth (1933) and April March (1936), the short-story collection Statements (1939), and the play The Secret Mirror (undated). To a certain extent, this idiosyncratic Irish author, who hailed from the ancient province of Connacht, may be regarded as a forerunner of the type of novels which will be considered in this dissertation. Quain was, after all, the unconscious creator of one of the first structurally disintegrated novels in the history of western literature, April March. His first novel, The God of the Labyrinth, also exhibits elements which are characteristic of structurally disintegrated fiction, for it provides the reader with two possible solutions to a mysterious crime. As a matter of fact, one might suggest that Quain’s debut novel offers the reader the possibility to ignore the solution to the crime and carry on living his or her readerly life, turning a blind eye to the novel itself. It may hence be argued that Quain’s first novel is in fact a compound of three different novels. It is self-evident that the structure of Quain’s oeuvre is of an experimental nature, combining geometrical precision with authorial innovation, and one finds in it a higher consideration for formal defiance than for the text itself. In other words, the means of expression are the concern of the author and not, interestingly, the textual content. April March, for example, is a novel which regresses back into itself, its first chapter focussing on an evening which is preceded by three possible evenings which, in turn, are each preceded by three other, dissimilar, possible evenings. It is a novel of backward-movement, and it is due to this process of branching regression that April March contains within itself at least nine possible novels. Structure, therefore, paradoxically controls the text, for it allows the text to expand or contract under its formal limitations. In other words, the formal aspects of the novel, usually associated with the restrictive device of a superior design, contribute to a liberation of the novel’s discourse. It is paradoxical only in the sense that the idea of structure necessarily entails the fixation of a narrative skeleton that determines how plot and discourse interact, something which Quain flouts for the purposes of innovation. In this sense, April March’s convoluted structure allows for multiple readings and interpretations of the same text, consciously germinating narratives within itself, producing different texts from a single, unique source. Thus, text and means of expression are bonded by a structural design that, rather than limiting, liberates the text of the novel.