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JORGE IBARGÜENGOITIA’S SOCIO-ECONOMIC COMMENTARY

IN LLEGÓ MARGÓ

by

Nicholas E. Sheets

Submitted to Brigham Young University in partial fulfillment

of graduation requirements for University Honors

Theater & Media Arts Department & Spanish Department

Brigham Young University

April 2014

Advisor: Dr. Howard QuackenbushHonors Representative: Dr. Rob McFarland

ABSTRACT

JORGE IBARGÜENGOITIA’S SOCIO-ECONOMIC COMMENTARY

IN LLEGÓ MARGÓ

Nicholas E. Sheets

Theater & Media Arts Department & Spanish Department

Bachelor of Arts

This thesis examines several contexts surrounding a lesser-known play by Jorge Ibargüengoitia, Llegó Margó (1956). The latter part of this thesis offers a close analysis of the play by examining historical socio-economic dynamics within the text. By situating the dialogue of this play around the upcoming semi-centennial celebration of the Mexican Revolution, the text participates in nationalistic dialogues which analyze Mexico’s post-revolution progression. From this viewpoint, the character Margó represents a neglected lower socio-economic class and the characters Rebeca and Lola, the middle/upper socio-economic classes, both of which lack the conviviality needed to unite classes and progress forward as one society. Therefore, Ibargüengoitia argues that Mexican society has not lived up to the ideals promised by the outcomes of the Mexican Revolution, as seen through the dichotomy between differing class structures, and the intrinsic differences within each structure which perpetuates this separation.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to thank the Honors Department for their support and funding, as well as the Mary Lou Fulton Fund for its financial contribution towards my research. As well, I wish to thank all those faculty members, graduate students, family and friends who supported me throughout this process. I want to specifically thank Dr. Howard Quackenbush for inspiring me to pursue an interdisciplinary paper between the Spanish & Theater Departments, and for introducing me to Jorge Ibargüengoitia. Finally, I wish to express my gratitude towards Joy Laville for allowing me into her home and graciously spending time with me to discuss her late husband. This paper would not have been possible without all of your support. Thank you.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title and Signature Pagei

Abstractii

Acknowledgmentsiii

Table of Contentsiv

I. Introduction1

II. Review of Literature3

III. Disclosures & Enigmas5

IV. Jorge Ibargüengoitia’s Short Career in Theater9

V. The Socratic Mirror15

VI. A Polemic Past25

VII. Aristotelian Catharsis32

VIII. Conclusion38

Bibliography40

Introduction

The playwright, Jorge Ibargüengoitia, possesses a skill known to some of the greatest authors of the Western literary tradition: the ability to reflect on current and controversial social anxieties and then create effective humanistic characters. Like Dickens’s capacity to narrate poor Bob Cratchit’s living conditions so that “the wealthy and privileged exhibit a greater humanitarianism towards the poor and the vulnerable,” Ibargüengoitia also reflects on his own society in Mexico City where he observes the poor and their unique plights to then create didactic literary moments (Diniejko).

The play, Llegó Margó (1956), follows a three-act plot structure. In the first act, Rebeca and Lila, two sisters, make preparations for Rebeca’s birthday party; at the end of this act Margó unexpectedly arrives. In the second act, Margó searches for a job and the sisters comment on how difficult it is to live with her. Later, they all sit down to eat and it becomes apparent very quickly that Margó’s strong character begins to break down the falsities that surround their politeness. In the final act, Enrique, the man alluded to earlier in the text from which Margó appears to have escaped, arrives searching for Margó. The sisters react violently and throw Enrique out. When Margó learns of Enrique’s appearance, and how Rebeca and Lila hid it from her, she quickly leaves to return with Enrique to the life she originally escaped from at the beginning of the play. Thus, by the end, this fictionalized society returns to the way it initially began.

My purpose here is to raise awareness about the work of a recognized novelist and critic, and sometimes forgotten playwright. I feel that Ibargüengoitia has much to offer the academic world in terms of historical anxieties and social critiques. In order to more fully demonstrate how Llegó Margó offers audiences a critical space for socio-economic commentary, I will first position my paper within a few important contexts before analyzing the actual text. The first context positions the current dialogue concerning Ibargüengoitia as a recognized playwright, novelist and writer who is known for his critiques concerning the Mexican Independence and the Mexican Revolution. However, no scholarly work has yet to be written on one of his lesser known plays: Llegó Margó. Second, by offering the reader an honest and up-front view into some of the problems inherent within this particular play, I offer a way to think about filling in the gaps that will ultimately arise later in my close reading. Third, I will deliver a short background about Jorge Ibargüengoitia: the man, the theater lover, etc., mostly for those who might find the work of analyzing his theater daunting without knowing a few items about the author beforehand. Finally, I will attempt a close reading of the play through a social lens, dividing my analysis into three parts: The Socratic Mirror, Coming to Terms with the Past, and Aristotelian Catharsis. These three main ideas unify my overall view of Llegó Margó and the plethora of socio-economic commentary which arises from a close reading of this play.

In this analysis I also find Margó, Ibargüengoitia’s main impoverished character in the play, as a conduit into Mexican society. Her poor treatment in the play is a call for social reform with regards to the country’s more destitute working—and non-working—classes: a message still relevant today. Ibargüengoitia wrote Llegó Margó in 1956 as Mexico began preparations to celebrate the semi-centennial anniversary of the 1910 Revolution. In this historical context I argue the play then participates in nationalistic dialogues, which gives it new meaning outside of a strict socio-economic criticism. In this, Ibargüengoitia portrays an unsympathetic middle class leaving behind the poor for material and societal gains; and this even after the Mexican Revolution sought to level the social/economic playing field for all Mexicans. In other words, he argues the Mexican Revolution was a failure for Mexican society, as embodied by the fictional family’s treatment towards Margó, decades after the war ended. In this, Ibargüengoitia also stretches the word poverty out of a strictly socio-economic context and applies it more generally to a lack of awareness for others.

Review of Literature

This paper focuses on socio-economic dialogues that arise from Llegó Margó, and the play’s historical context surrounding the semi-centennial celebration of the Mexican Revolution, as well as a biographical sketch of Ibargüengoitia’s passion for theater. While Llegó Margó is not explicitly related to the Mexican Revolution, its social themes and symbolic characters are relevant to the ongoing discussion surrounding Mexico’s progress as a country after the Mexican Revolution. In this ongoing discussion, I have positioned this play among other works which historiographically deal with Mexico’s past, such as El atentado (a play written in 1962) and Los pasos de López (his novel published in 1982, a year before his tragic death).

According to Mark Finch, Ibargüengoitia belongs to the “edad enigmática,” (enigmatic age, my own translation)[footnoteRef:1] and engages with discourse that contradicts the victorious and propagandistic dialogue which characterizes the revolution as one of Mexico’s greatest achievements (302). In other words, what critics have analyzed about Ibargüengoitia was his anti-establishment and deconstruction of Mexican history. As Marie Demello wrote in her essay, The unfinished Mexican revolution: Re-visioning interpretive perspectives in literature and film, “these authors (referring to Ibargüengoitia) did not embrace the mythic side of the Mexican Revolution; instead, they displayed a bitter reality in their work that is far removed from the official discourse” (49). This “bitter reality” is also found in Llegó Margó, with Margó as a metaphoric symbol of the failure of contemporary Mexican society to look after the poor after the Mexican Revolution. As well, Ryan Long, in his 2002 dissertation entitled Challenging the foundations of history: The state, 1968 and the Mexican novel, notes Ibargüengoitia within a list of those who have the “capacity to contribute to a national narrative, if not an idea of the nation” (215). Finally, Dr. Jacqueline Bixler refers to Ibargüengoitia as one of the key players who pushes an agenda which subversively counters the propagandized versions of Mexican history: [1: All translations in this thesis are my own.]

[…] Ibargüengoitia, López, and Leñero offer a new view of the past that challenges what is known as “official” history, or that version sustained by the ruling PRI [Partido Revolucionario Institucional] and popularly believed to be true. This on-stage debunking of institutionalized history is by extension a dramatic metaphor of the erosion that continues to afflict a decrepit party whose last shreds of credibility disappeared along with many of the ballots from the past election [1988]. These dramatists at once undermine Mexico’s text-book history and underscore the common use of rhetoric, both written and verbal, to persuade, convince, and control the people and their perception of historical reality. (163-164)

While Ibargüengoitia’s relevance as a contributor to a national discourse can already be found in various other popular works, including his novels, his lesser known play Llegó Margó also has the capacity to contribute to this discussion.

Nonetheless, nothing has been published concerning this piece of theater. Perhaps one of the reasons this work is not readily studied is because it is not explicitly related to a direct historical event, which most critics tend to study when selecting works of Ibargüengoitia. However, taking into consideration the historical context surrounding the creation of this play, as well as using the characters as symbolic metaphors for Mexico as a general society, allows critics to see this play in a new light and place it among his other more popular works already studied. I hope this paper will inspire others and pave the way for more consideration and criticism of Ibargüengoitia’s other lesser-known theatrical works.

Disclosures & Enigmas

As I analyzed this play I found a strong Marxist feel to the way Ibargüengoitia criticizes those with power and money, as well as a pull towards understanding the play through biographical and historical venues. For example, outside of this play Ibargüengoitia as a person demonstrated time and time again his aptitude for writing social commentary which included the socio-economic inequality that existed in Mexico in the 1950s.[footnoteRef:2] To acknowledge this influence is to show Ibargüengoitia as a concerned citizen, and playwright, with a desire to better his society as a whole. It is also apparent that during the 1950s Marxist thought held a strong hold on many intellectual thinkers, and that this ideology was at its strongest worldwide. In terms of this critical approach in Ibargüengoitia’s theatrical works, not only do his middle and upper class characters hypocritically offer charity which shows a fleeting desire to help others, but he also exposes inherent class struggles between the giver and the taker. This combination of historical and Marxist thought yields a deeper understanding to the play. [2: See Instrucciones para vivir en México, a collection of Ibargüengoitia’s newspaper columns.]

In Llegó Margó the Marxist idea of economic inequality arises, especially contrasting the characters Rebeca and Lola, representing the upper class, with Margó, of the lower classes. Also, these two sides reflect two opposing ways of interacting with others. For example, Rebeca and Lola seem to be oblivious to the desperation of Margó, while at the same time very aware of how their guests might react with Margó at their home. I believe this is caused by a divested sense of awareness for others, as well as a hyperawareness to decorum, an inherent characteristic for those of upper socio-economic tiers; both attributes found in Rebeca and Lola.

On the other hand, Margó seeks to establish warmly a relationship with and find acceptance among her two “sisters.” Margó grew up as the child of a servant in the same home in which these two sisters lived. She played with Rebeca and Lola as a child, and therefore considers the two her “sisters.” This helps explain the reference to Margó as the prodigal “sister” by Rebeca and Lola throughout the play. The dichotomy between the two groups leaves the reader to consider which lacks more in life: Margó and the poor working class; or Rebeca, Lila, and Mexico’s middle class—an inquiry that has implications more broad than strict socio-economic binaries.

Ibargüengoitia wrote this play for his middle class audience (the ones who frequented the theater), offering a medium for self-reflection. As Mexico prepared for its semi-centennial celebration of the Mexican Revolution many citizens questioned how much Mexico had progressed since then. The play asks important social questions to them as well as to a modern audience: “How do I perceive the poor,” “How do I react when confronted with the opportunity to help,” and “Do I pay more attention to social norms than I do to the people around me?” Ibargüengoitia’s play demonstrates his conscious awareness of the poor, as well as his fellow middle class society, and offers this play as a conduit to self-reflection.

This historical setting is also a platform on which I found an application of Marxist ideas. However, I recognize that most of the world during the 1950s felt the presence of Marxism, so it’s of no surprise that I easily find Marxist ideas within this play. Ibargüengoitia positions the dialogue in Llegó Margó within a context that leans toward anxieties which are socio-economic and class-structural. For example, the two sisters in the play, Rebeca and Lola, obsess over clothes, money and stagnant relationships, while Margó, a childhood friend, seeks long-term acceptance and shelter. By now their innocent childhood is past; now much older, these childhood friends are separated by class structure. Ibargüengoitia plays on this gap and demonstrates this disconnect between the two worlds, not only economically, but through traditions and perspectives on life as well.

Along these same lines it is important to point out the flaws inherent in this perspective, especially under a historiographical microscope. In preparation for writing this, I performed research at Princeton University’s Firestone Library, housing the Ibargüengoitia papers donated by his widow Joy Laville; I traveled throughout Mexico to garner a basic knowledge of Mexican history and historic anxieties; and I had the honor and privilege of conversing with Joy Laville, all of which created a foundation on which I currently find myself positioning this play in the larger historical context. However, as much as these assumptions may approximate actual reality, they will always be assumptions. For example, contemporary socio-economic anxieties, as well as the knowledge of Mexican history I acquired while in Mexico and in the US, considerably influence how this analysis developed.

Adding to this penumbra of concrete motive, Ibargüengoitia writes with tremendous opacity. For example, Ibargüengoitia alludes to Margó’s past throughout the play through various characters, but at no single point does the reader pinpoint to what exactly they are all alluding; nor is her true relationship with Enrique, the man that searches for her towards the end, ever explained. Another example of this opacity is Armando, Lola’s husband: he refuses to work, but Ibargüengoitia never explains how these characters maintain themselves without a stable income. In other words, exposition of historical background in the play is extremely limited.

This decision to leave out plentiful exposition allows the play more susceptibility to reader-response criticism and self-reflection. Also, if one subscribes to Barthesian methodologies, leaving behind the author and freeing the reader, then Ibargüengoitia’s plays will allow a liminal space for interpretation. Ibargüengoitia's lack of exposition throughout this particular play may be frustrating on the one hand for understanding the play, especially for those who may find it less pleasing to actively participate in the interpretation of theater, but on the other hand it allows audiences more ways to experiment and interpret his play. This latter consequence is what I find so engaging with his theater because it creates a more universal accessibility to his play. For example, Margó’s controversial past may be linked to whatever the stigma of the time is, which changes throughout history. Thus, the vagueness of the play can actually become a conduit for reinterpretation and relevancy.

Jorge Ibargüengoitia’s Short Career in Theater

The historical background considered in this section functions in several important ways: it shows a brief overview of Ibargüengoitia’s life experiences and their critical confluence with theater; it uses Ibargüengoitia’s own words to describe his falling out with the powers of theater, a paramount reason for his lack of long-term success as a playwright; and it reiterates his undying passion for theater. Subsequently, my second reason for writing about Ibargüengoitia's history raises important questions for those who might discard Ibargüengoitia as a playwright of little consequence because of his lack of notoriety when compared with other playwrights like Rodolfo Usigli, Emilio Carballido, Luisa Josefina Hernández, Sergio Magaña, and others. Without fully taking into consideration the forces that surrounded his initial rejection in Mexico City we are left with an enigma in Ibargüengoitia's literary career.

His initial ascent into the theatrical world began at a young age. Jorge Blas Ibargüengoitia was born on 22 Jan 1928, to Alejandro and Luz Antillón. His mother’s family came from a prestigious military background so Jorge grew up in a fairly comfortable atmosphere. Florencio Antillón, a successful and celebrated Mexican general in Guanajuato, and Jorge’s grandfather, initiated the construction of the Teatro Juárez in Guanajuato in 1873 ("El Teatro Juárez Cumple 110 Años”). From his childhood to professional playwright we receive the following about Ibargüengoitia’s initial impulse into the professional theater world: “En 1951, durante la puesta en escena Rosalba y los llaveros de Salvador Novo, montada en el Teatro Juárez, quedó impactado por la obra. Tres meses después regresó al Distrito Federal para inscribirse en la carrera de Artes Dramáticas en la Facultad de Filosofía y Letras de la UNAM.” (In 1951, during the production Rosalba y los llaveros, [directed] by Salvador Novo, in the Teatro Juarez, [Ibargüengoitia] left impacted by this work. Three months upon returning to Mexico City, he enrolled in classes under the Dramatic Arts in the Department of Philosophy and Letters of the UNAM) (Salazar). While it may look like a rush into the theater world, for me it demonstrates the decision to finally pursue something he always loved from childhood.

In 1947, he traveled to Europe to attend the World Jamboree for the Boy Scouts in France, and during these travels he became socially critical and wrote about these travels later in his life:

Una de las cosas que más me llamaban la atención en 1947, cuando salí de México por primera vez, era la ignorancia general con respecto a todo lo mexicano: un italiano creía que éramos isla; unos catalanes se asombraban de que no habláramos exactamente como Cantinflas; Madame Dubois, la conserje del hotel de la Gironde, creía que México era parte de los Estados Unidos…”

(One of the things that I became aware of in 1947, when I left Mexico for the first time, was the general ignorance with respect to everything Mexican: an Italian believed we were an island; a few Catalonians were surprised that we didn’t speak exactly like Cantinflas; Madame Dubois, the concierge of the Gironde Hotel, believed that Mexico was a part of the United States […])

(“En primera persona” 53).

His observant perspective gradually grew from these cultural experiences, which translated into his critical analysis of his own country in his theater, novels and columns. Combining his love for theater and his keen sense of social awareness, it is not surprising that a drama like Llegó Margó contains such a charged atmosphere.

Ibargüengoitia immersed himself in the theatrical world upon returning from Europe. As I perused the Ibargüengoitia papers at Princeton’s Firestone Library I came upon a critique he wrote in 1950 for The Bald Soprano by Eugene Ionesco. In another paper, discussing his experiences with “Avant-garde” Theater, he states: “Este artículo tiene por objeto explicar por qué no puedo hacer una nota sobre el teatro de vanguardia. No es cosa fácil”. (This article has as its purpose to explain why I cannot write a note about “Avant-garde” Theater. It is not easy.) (Ibargüengoitia Collection, box 2, folder 1). Though this short comment may not reveal much about his struggles to understand the theater world, it does nonetheless demonstrate that, at a relatively young age, Ibargüengoitia knew theater was a powerful tool for critical thought and exploration. More of his theater critiques appear at Princeton’s Firestone Library collection, revealing that Ibargüengoitia was active in the theater scene upon returning from Paris in the late 1940s and early 1950s.

In fact, in 1953, after Ibargüengoitia enrolled in the UNAM, he wrote of a promising theatrical future, which shows that if things continued the way they were in 1955, Ibargüengoitia would have spent the rest of his life in the theater world. He spent time as a student under Rodolfo Usigli, considered by many to be the father of modern Mexican theater. Ibargüengoitia writes:

Al principio parecía que mi carrera literaria iría por el lado del teatro y sería brillante. Mi primera comedia [Susana y los jóvenes] fue puesta en escena con relativo éxito en 1954, la segunda [Clotilde en su casa] lo fue en 1955, las dos fueron recogidas en antologías del teatro mexicano moderno, Usigli me designó para que lo reemplazara cuando se retiró, gané tres becas al hilo…

At the beginning it appeared my literary career would steer toward the theater and would be brilliant. My first comedy [Susana y los jóvenes] was produced with relative success in 1954, the second [Clotilde en su casa] was produced in 1955, they were collected in anthologies on modern Mexican theater, Usigli designated me to replace him when he retired, [and] I won three scholarships in a row […].

(“En primera persona” 66)

Most promising for his professional career was his excellent rapport with his faculty advisor, Usigli, whose mere recommendation signified success for any up-and-coming playwright. Usigli had an unspoken power to make or break a young writer, and it appears that part of his success was this strong tie with his faculty advisor.

However, the two had a falling out and Ibargüengoitia's theatrical career screeched to a halt. It is not clear what exactly occurred between the two playwrights, but Ibargüengoitia argues his own reasoning why he began to distance himself from Usigli:

Cuando Usigli regresó a México para el estreno de Corona de fuego, obra que me parece abominable, concedió una entrevista en la que, cuando se le preguntó su opinión sobre los escritores jóvenes, dio una docena de nombres pero no el mío. Entonces me dio mucha rabia. Ahora, a veinte años de distancia, comprendo que esta omisión pudo deberse a un milagro operado por la entrevistante [Elena Poniatowska].

(When Usigli returned to Mexico for the premiere of Corona de fuego, work that appeared abominable to me, he accepted an interview in which, when he was asked his opinion about young writers, he gave a dozen names which did not include mine. Because of this, I felt a lot of rage. Now, twenty years in the past, I consider this omission to have possibly been a miracle operated by the interviewer [Elena Poniatowski]. (89)

After writing a scathing article/drama (Sublime alarido del ex alumno herido/Sublime shriek of a wounded ex-student), in which he vehemently attacks Usigli, the two officially parted ways. During this period of time Ibargüengoitia fell out of the theater scene and transitioned to other forms of literature: newspaper columns and novels. The producing powers in Mexico City seemed to side with Usigli. From this point on Ibargüengoitia begins to use pseudonyms to hide the criticism his name inherently produced when submitting works to places such as the Bellas Artes in Mexico City.

Yo mandé La conspiración vendida con el pseudónimo “Federico Barón Gropius”, y gané el premio. El mismo día que supe la noticia, encontré a Gorostiza, que había presidido el jurado que me premió, en el foyer de un teatro: “Yo soy el autor de La conspiración vendida”, le dije.

Casi se desmayó. Evidentemente habían premiado la obra creyendo que había sido escrita por otra persona con más méritos o mayores influencias. Ni modo.

(I sent La conspiración vendida under the pseudonym ‘Federico Baron Gropius,’ and won the prize [the Mexico City Award for theater]. The same day that I found out I had won, I found Gorostiza, who had presided over the jury that awarded me, in the foyer of a theater. “I’m the author of La conspiración vendida,” I told him.

He just about fainted. Evidently they had awarded the work believing it to have been written by another person with more merits or greater influences. Whatever. (86)

Ibargüengoitia was writing credible and substantive theater, at least during this period, but his name tainted the ink with which he wrote. For me, this partially explains why he was not a prolific playwright, even though the works he wrote were given awards. Ibargüengoitia’s stigma preceded and overpowered an objectified analysis of his work.

It was during this period, 1956, when he wrote Llegó Margó, and already found his opportunities of success severely limited. What I feel is important to understand about this particular work and its historical context is that perhaps critics did not allow this piece of theater an objective chance for production because of Ibargüengoitia’s stigmatized reputation in relation to Usigli. Nonetheless, Ibargüengoitia notices later how this play was a crucial turning point for his theatrical career:

En 1956 escribí una comedia [Llegó Margó] que, según yo, iba abrirme las puertas de la fama…

Estaba muy equivocado; la comedia no llegó a ser estrenada, las puertas de la fama, no sólo no se me abrieron, sino dejé de ser joven escritor que promete y me convertí en un desconocido…

In 1956 I wrote a comedy [Llegó Margó] that, according to my own standards, would open to me the doors of fame [.]

I was terribly mistaken; the comedy was never performed, and not only did the doors of fame never open up to me, but I also stopped being a promising young writer and became a nobody […]. (78)

Towards the end of the 1950s Ibargüengoitia changed his audience from theater producers to the general public, switching to the novel and newspaper columns, fields where Usigli’s influence was less felt. In these new literary fields his success as a writer renewed to a more general public.

However, Ibargüengoitia never lost his love for theater, though his success ended prematurely. During my travels to Mexico I had the privilege to meet with Joy Laville, his widow, who has made a name for herself as a successful painter and sculpture. During my visit she remarked how Ibargüengoitia thought about returning to write theater in his later years, before his tragic accident in 1983. She was clear, though, that this idea was only percolating, and never materialized past a vocalized thought (Laville). Nonetheless, it reiterates Ibargüengoitia’s innate passion for theater and leaves us wondering what he might have written had his life not ended so suddenly, so tragically.

The Socratic Mirror

At this point I begin my analysis of the actual text. I will demonstrate how Ibargüengoitia uses his literary skills to reflect his own society which fosters an environment for self-criticism. Later in this section I discuss this Socratic Mirror as a tool used by artists to project life on stage that would be quotidian when observed during daily routines, but which takes on new meaning in a theatrical context. In this manner, Ibargüengoitia effectively creates a platform for discussion in his society, especially a socio-economic dialogue which critically examines how far Mexico progressed from the Mexican Revolution to the 1950s.

In order to introduce Margó, Ibargüengoitia first creates an environment where the audience feels as if they were watching an ordinary soap opera: actions and consequences at the domestic and local level. Nothing out of the ordinary for the audience in the play’s initial development; the two sisters, Rebeca and Lola, are preparing the living room for Rebeca’s birthday dinner. Rebeca is restless because she is expecting Armando, her boyfriend, to arrive any moment; Armando arrives at the same hour each year, every year, although this year he takes a bit longer. Rebeca and Lola begin the scene discussing their social anxieties:

Lola: ¿Cuántos años dices que cumples? (How old are you this year?)

Rebeca: Veintinueve. (Twenty nine)

Lola: ¿Otra vez? (Again?)

Rebeca: Pues sí. (Of course.)

Lola: Será bueno que vayas haciéndote a la idea de cumplir los treinta. (It would probably be good for you to start thinking about turning thirty.)

Rebeca: No habrá más remedio. Me hubiera gustado casarme de veintitantos, pero Armando no se decide. (There isn’t any other remedy. I would have liked to have married during my twenties, but Armando doesn’t make a decision.)

(Ibargüengoitia 11)

This introduction seems very cliché, or commonplace. However, it creates a banal atmosphere in order to juxtapose strongly Margó’s arrival, as well as the different preoccupations between this middle-class family and Margó.

This introduction creates an entry point into the play where the audience can relate to the events and find an attachment to the initial characters. Once this connection is established, via conversations which seem to be taken from every-day interactions, the audience initially relates with Rebeca and Lola. When the audience associates themselves with these two sisters they will emotionally side with them when Margó arrives. By opening the play with something as ordinary as a birthday dinner, Ibargüengoitia also connects his audience to the characters with familiar settings on stage. Once the audience connects with the characters, he then begins to shine light on social norms and middle class society that are not noticed without the deep reflection offered through art. This reflection and comparison of two societies, the middle class and the poor, is for me the major dichotomy throughout the entire play.

Thus, when Margó appears unexpectedly before Rebeca’s guests, Ibargüengoitia clashes these two social and economic worlds.

Se oye el timbre del zaguán. Quedan un poco consternados, aún no es tiempo de que lleguen los invitados. Armando se levanta mientras Lola junta los vasos apresuradamente. El toque es muy largo Y debe ser inconfundible.

(The hallway doorbell is heard. They look a bit dismayed: it still is not time for the guests to arrive. Armando arises while Lola quickly collects the cups. The chime is very long. And it should be unmistakable.)

Lola: ¿Tan temprano?, ¿quién será? (So early? Who could it be?) (35-36)

Once Margó enters the house the subsequent task in the play is to find a way for Rebeca and Lola to coexist with Margó, a very difficult endeavor. Clearly Margó’s presence is unexpected, and now both the sisters and the audience must take into account a character foreign to their social preoccupations and customs.

One of the key ideas I find in this scenario is this separation of socio-economic worlds through custom. In their current condition, these worlds have separated themselves to such a degree that joining them, if at all possible, becomes a delicate and tricky situation. For example, in another part of the text, Rebeca worries about social anxieties and a stagnant relationship with Armando, and Margó’s arrival demonstrates a polar opposite perspective: a need for self-sufficiency and bare necessities, juxtaposed to social norms in Rebeca and Lola. The combination of these two perspectives creates a complex and somewhat chaotic situation, but it also demonstrates the inherent divide of priorities between socio-economic classes.

While Ibargüengoitia’s potential explanation for a separation between socio-economic classes through etiquette may not be an obvious or accepted idea for those in attendance at his play, he nonetheless offers the idea a voice for consideration. Again, etiquette may be a far cry from explaining the complex social issues that faced the poor in Mexico City during the 1950s, but Ibargüengoitia’s ability to articulate this idea in writing allows some in his audience to at least contemplate its possibility. Whether or not those in attendance actually delve into Ibargüengoitia’s social commentary, or even relate to certain aspects of the play, is a question of volition and experience. In each audience there exist both active and passive audience members.

Ibargüengoitia has a unique ability to reinterpret and display his own society in his writing. These traditions, social exchanges, anxieties, etc., permeate his theatrical works, his newspaper articles and even his novels. Rafael Pérez Gay, writing about Ibargüengoitia’s weekly articles in the newspaper Excelsior, describes these columns in various ways, all of which demonstrate Ibargüengoitia’s aptitude for critical thinking about his surroundings: “Eran ensayos mordaces de un humor desaforado, relatos de viaje, crónicas portátiles sobre la cotidianidad, la burocracia, la Ciudad de México, el discurso fantástico de la política priista, los monumentos, el absurdo diario, el examen c[áu]stico de la vida pública mexicana”. (They were scathing essays of uncontrolled humor, travel stories, portable columns on everyday life, bureaucracy, Mexico City, fantastic PRI political discourse, monuments, daily absurdism, the caustic examination of public Mexican life” (30, emphasis added). Gay describes the plethora of subjects which Ibargüengoitia penned in his columns. This demonstrates not only Ibargüengoitia's critical side, but also his ability to write engaging stories, which ties back into his ability to both narrate and dramatize in literature.

The ability to effectively portray society as an artist is similar to what Socrates dismisses in his dialogues of Book X in The Republic. Socrates argues how those who reflect society are counterfeit members of society, in that they do nothing of importance to benefit the community:

The maker of an actual bed or table proceeds in accordance with the Ideas of these things. But the artist has another and easier way to make these and all other things.

‘What way?

An easy way enough; or rather, there are many ways in which the feat might be quickly and easily accomplished, none quicker than that of turning a mirror round and round—you would soon enough make the sun and the heavens, and the earth and yourself, and other animals and plants, and all the other things of which we were just now speaking, in the mirror.’ (Abrams 30)

In other words, unlike his pupil Aristotle, Socrates believes in pragmatic occupations which guarantee some type of obvious benefit to society. The artist, on the other hand, only imitates society and therefore offers neither solutions nor immediate benefits to society. Therefore, the artist would not be a citizen in Socrates’s perfect/ideal society.

However, I disagree with Socrates that the artist is useless in society. The mirror is a unique device which, when held, offers a vision not seen through normal sight. Thus, an active participation by holding a mirror proffers a unique perspective in return. This “mirror tells us something we would not know without it, namely what we ourselves look like and, how others see us. It shows us what others see and we cannot without the use of mirrors” (Danto 26). Ibargüengoitia describes with precise detail Mexico’s traditions and mannerisms in such a way as to explore further meaning and create a dialogue for discussion. He theatrically produces a society in which the poor are disrespected and scorned; where bourgeois anxieties are a reflection of an obsession for social structures and traditions; and how these two socio-economic classes continue to live separately as a result. The audience, in a way, is actively holding up the mirror Ibargüengoitia offers them by attending his theater.

For those interested in an active discussion from this play, Jacques Rancière, in his essay entitled “The Emancipated Spectator,” offers his idea regarding this idea of active audience participation and what a dramatist can offer them through a performance. He writes:

There is the distance between the artist and spectator, but there is also the distance inherent in the performance itself, in so far as it subsists, as a spectacle, an autonomous thing, between the idea of the artist and the sensation or comprehension of the spectator. […] It [the performance] is not the transmission of the artist’s knowledge or inspiration to the spectator. It is the third thing that is owned by no one, whose meaning is owned by no one, but which subsists between them, excluding any uniform transmission, any identity of cause and effect. (14-15)

Thus, an active participation throughout this particular piece of theater may foster discussion on themes that may not necessarily hinge on social commentary. In hypothetical terms, perhaps Ibargüengoitia did not even mean to question his own society; Rancière argues that understanding motive is only one way in which we may approach a work, among the many which currently exist.

Ibargüengoitia’s intention to portray social themes through theater demonstrates his belief in the ability of the theater to effectively portray the human condition. This interplay of content and form also marks a distinction which helps us understand a performance and participate actively in leveling our understanding with that of what a playwright offers us. George Lucáks, a Marxist writer, comments on writers’ ability to display their society in a piece of literature, or in this case, through a play:

We are concerned here, of course, with the intention realized in the work; it need not coincide with the writer’s conscious intention. […] It is the view of the world, the ideology or Weltanschauung underlying a writer’s work, that counts. And it is the writer’s attempt to reproduce this view of the world which constitutes his ‘intention’ and is the formative style of a given piece of writing.” (108)

While Lucáks offers a more comprehensive look at content and form of novels, my analysis focuses more on content: the subject matter at-hand in Llegó Margó. For Lucáks, the content will necessarily dictate the form of an expressive work. For Ibargüengoitia, the medium which best demonstrates the content written in this particular play necessitated the creation of characters in the theater. Portraying humanistic characters with live actors, in front of a live audience, best relays a message of charity and class struggle. The content of the play demonstrates these class struggles, so according to this logic, this could be argued as Ibargüengoitia’s attempt/intention.

Along the same lines of approaching the play with an active audience, each participant experiences the play in unique ways. This third entity, this world between the play and the audience, but which also connects both in an individualistic way, is the whole point behind Reader Response Criticism, as mentioned earlier. Reader Response Criticism, with its foundational basis from such essays as Roland Barthes’s The Death of the Author (1968), open up a world in which the reader gains power over the critic/author and is subsequently justified in their analysis, whichever and whatever that entails. Ibargüengoitia’s ability to craft charged experiences through artistic means provides this environment for reflection that allows different dialogues to manifest themselves, such as this one in relation to social and economic issues.

By displaying subtle and rearticulated cultural experiences, Ibargüengoitia exhibits his skill to mirror society, as well as proves his artistic ability to be a trickster, as defined by Lewis Hyde. Mary Jane Jacobs, in her essay entitled “Reciprocal Generosity,” paraphrases Hyde’s thesis on the artist as trickster:

‘The possibility of playing with the joints of creation [is] the possibility of art,’ Hyde writes.

Thus, the artist or trickster-artist does this by ‘changing the manner in which nature, community, and spirit are joined to one another,’ shifting patterns in relation to one another: dismantling the hierarchy, de-centering it, and making evident the divisions or joints of society and keeping those lines or joints flexible, porous, and receptive to change, rearticulating them, and even bridging or translating differences. (8-9)

In other words, trickster artists like Ibargüengoitia find areas within society where they have room to rearticulate some aspect and thus enliven or redefine it. Ibargüengoitia is an example of active participation in a community’s conversation to define itself and its values, a process of construction rather than destruction. Hyde further explains: “The symbolic world into which each of us is born and which, in one sense, has created us is, in another sense, our own creation. […] We always inhabit a story that others have shaped, but we also always participate in that shaping” (278-279). Likewise, Ibargüengoitia participated in a national dialogue of values and heritage during a time when Mexicans were articulating what it meant to live in their society. The characters in Llegó Margó are his way of pinpointing a few social issues that were still prevalent even after the country struggled to pave a better future after a failed revolution. He rearticulated these issues in ways that call attention to themselves (through actors humanizing criticism, dialogue which articulated angst, and situations readily accessible to the public), and participated in his community’s constructive dialogue through trickster methods.

Ibargüengoitia displays this ability to rearticulate his society as the play develops. Rebeca and Lola begin to show more of their uneasiness when dealing with Margó. Arguably, these two characters are the personification of the social issues about which Ibargüengoitia concerns himself. For example, in the first act Rebeca prepares for her dinner party and then, once Margó has entered and pleasantries are exchanged, they offer to help Margó. While this may run counter to the argument of Rebeca and Lola’s questionable conviviality with those of a lower social class, it shines light on another important issue: hypocrisy. As the play continues it becomes apparent they are not helping Margó with full heart.

Although these two sisters eventually offer Margó temporary help, the process that took them there displays their struggle to break free of their own concerns. Lola is the first to invent a lie so Margó will leave on her own volition: “¿Sabes que vamos a cenar fuera?, tenemos que irnos de un momento a otro”. (Did you know we were planning on going out to eat? We have to leave any minute.) (Ibargüengoitia 42). Lola’s lie exhibits her higher concern over a social affair, the dinner party, versus her lesser concern for Margó’s well-being. This disrespect is only further exacerbated when Rebeca enters the room. Lola implicitly divulges her plan to Rebeca: “Le digo a Margó que vamos a cenar fuera. Que tenemos que irnos dentro de un rato”. (I told Margó we’re eating out for dinner. We’ll be leaving soon) (43). Rebeca’s casual consent unifies these two sisters in their disgust and anxiety towards Margó. It also demonstrates a much deeper problem: a rift between middle and those of a lower socio-economic class. These two sisters are more aware of how their social apparatus will react to Margó’s arrival than Margó herself.

Again, this setting offers a window into Ibargüengoitia’s social commentary because it demonstrates a chronic problem with an obsession of the self, versus a lack of care for the wellbeing of others. Rearticulating this problem through these two characters is Ibargüengoitia’s way of “meddling” with his community. These sisters are not expecting Margó to arrive, much like a piece of theater with blatant criticism of the same people attending the show, but this forced interaction on stage demonstrates a valid struggle and conversation Ibargüengoitia articulates for his present community. Ibargüengoitia offers no explicit solutions to these difficulties, but does offer implicit explanations as to why they exist: the dramaturg creates theater which becomes a window into community life.

A Polemic Past

Part of Llegó Margó concerns Margó’s vague history and her subsequent removal and/or rejection from upper socio-economic strati because of her past. At first, when Margó appears, the family experiences different levels of disgust, but then warm up to Margó when they learn of her change. The catalyst for the sister’s sudden change of heart, and subsequent offer to help, divulges an underlying problem between social classes in Mexico, as seen through a distance separation between the sisters and Margó: those in power, or the upper class, instead of dealing with a difficult past, push it to one side. This additional explanation as to why a rift exists between Rebeca/Lola and Margó could lie at the heart of Mexico’s chronic poverty and the failure of the Mexican Revolution to extinguish the difference between classes. When Margó arrives, the sisters immediately attach negative choices and her repulsive lifestyle to her presence; the person’s history is more important than the actual person. Margó’s former lifestyle and history are what motivate such high anxiety between the two sisters. Rebeca and Lola, instead of enjoying a repetitive birthday dinner party, passed the evening preoccupied with social discourse concerning Margó and their relation with her. After the birthday party the sisters agree they dodged a bullet because no one said anything about Margó’s past. Rebeca articulates that fear: “Tenía mucho miedo de que le hicieran alguna grosería, como todos sabían quién era y en dónde vivió los últimos años; pero gracias a Dios, todos fueron muy amables con ella”. (I was very scared they were going to say something rude since everyone knew who she was and where she had been living for the last couple of years; but thanks be to God, everyone was very kind to her.) (54). The sisters have a lot of anxiety over Margó, so her past must be something of notable consequence for them and their society, especially because her past is known among their social circles. What we can deduce from this scene is that Rebeca and Lola initially wished to disassociate themselves from onerous actions in the past, connected to Margó, in order to maintain their social power and purity in the present.

On the other hand, Rebeca’s comment divulges more information about these sisters’ social awareness than it does about Margó’s past; the subtle references to Margó’s past do not reveal a single concrete fact about her. Rather, the comments are general and degrading, open for much interpretation. In this uncertainty, Margó becomes the prototype for any person from the lower socio-economic classes who end up doing repugnant acts to stay alive; whether that be stealing, prostitution, pan-handling, etc. By keeping the facts general, Ibargüengoitia focuses more on Rebeca and Lola than he does Margó. Rebeca’s comment divulges not only her own social awareness but also that of their guests. Apparently what one person does is known throughout various social circles so as not to permit any entry point in the future for that person among any possible clique.

This declaration, while rooted in the previous dialogue, is also found in Octavio Paz’s observation of Mexican identity in relation to its history, validating a concurrent thought between Ibargüengoitia’s play and Mexican philosophy of the 1950s. In his book El laberinto de la soledad, published only a few years before this play was produced, he argued that Mexicans were beginning to reconcile their unpleasant history with the heroic Mexican Revolution; “Gracias a la Revolución el mexicano quiere reconciliarse con su Historia y con su origen. De ahí que nuestro movimiento tenga un carácter al mismo tiempo desesperado y redentor”. (Thanks to the revolution, Mexicans desire to be reconciled with their history and origin. From this, there stems out a desperate and redeeming character to our movement) (61). Paz makes reference to Mexico’s history, which is full of grotesque and ugly repression by the Spanish conquerors, as well as the subsequent hierarchical caste system imposed on the country’s inhabitants. When Mexicans begin to cope with their horrific past, a healing, even redeeming stage will occur for those involved.

In fact, not only does Paz introduce this idea explicitly in his own literary masterpiece, but Ibargüengoitia also implicitly makes the same argument through his theater. In the play, the two sisters represent an obvious hesitancy to embrace or even cope with Margó’s past. To them, her past is so insurmountable as to fixate itself as the ultimate obstacle that impedes a meaningful and enduring relationship. Consider the previous comment from Rebeca about her worries regarding Margó when their guests arrived at the birthday part. Now, here is Lola’s response:

Lola: “Lo mejor fue que no tuvimos que explicar nada; no hubo preguntas indiscretas”. (The best part was that we didn’t have to explain anything; there weren’t any indiscreet questions.) (54)

Instead of worrying about how Margó, the former “sister” was, or how she managed to arrive in Mexico City after living in other parts of the country, the sisters were more worried that her indiscreet past would haunt them in their current social circles. Margó, on the other hand, looks for reconciliation with her former “family.” Her perspective comes from those seeking a new life in society, whether that be those from poverty or a person with a disgraceful past. Rebeca and Lola, on the other hand, who possess a high position in society, look down from their ivory tower in judgment. The two perspectives clash as Ibargüengoitia opens and develops this theme of redemption from a troubled past. The sisters personify the attitude Paz and Ibargüengoitia intend to conquer as they look forward while acknowledging and coming to terms with their nation’s dark past.

Why would these two sisters, who at one point seem to be overwhelmingly preoccupied by their jeopardized social standing with Margó, now offer her a place to stay and invite her to the dinner celebration? This enigma in the play is definitely baffling. Perhaps they are filled with compassion for their prodigal “sister” who returned home. Or maybe they really do believe Margó has changed for the better and have a sincere desire to help. I see this sudden change from riddance to fellowship as an altogether faint and shallow attempt to appear charitable and Christian. While still engaging in charitable acts, the sisters never give up their adherence to social norms. For Ibargüengoitia, the sisters represent a mentality of helping others in need when it is either convenient or does not actually require long-term association with those of a lower caste.

At various points throughout the second act both Lola and Rebeca are put in a dilemma of offering charity, or understanding Margó’s needs, versus their own awareness for their own selfish pursuits. The day after the party Rebeca begins to hint she wants Margó to move to a different room. With the pretense of Margó wanting the window in Rebeca’s bedroom shut during the night, Rebeca proposes Margó move to a hallway passage that is not even a bedroom.

Lola: ¿Pero cómo vamos a decirle a Margó que duerma en el pasillo? (But how are we going to tell Margó she has to sleep in the hallway?)

Rebeca: Le ponemos una silla de las que nunca usamos y desocupamos parte del closet y te aseguro que nunca ha tenido un cuarto tan elegante. (We’ll put a chair we never use and clear out the closet, and I assure you that she never had a room more elegant.)

Lola: Pero, ¿por qué no quieres que se quede en tu cuarto? (But, why do you not want her to stay in your room?)

Rebeca: No puede dormir con la ventana abierta, y yo siento que me asfixio cuando la cierran. (She can’t sleep with the window open, and I feel I’m going to suffocate with it closed.)

Lola: ¿Por eso nada más? (Just for that reason?) (55)

Rebeca is having a problem adjusting to Margó’s company and it is apparent that while she is acting charitably, there is a side of her that cannot support being in the same room with Margó. So, Rebeca’s hollow charity towards Margó lasts only a few hours and her selfish character wants to depose Margó to a makeshift part of the house where she will not be a nuisance. Put in more general terms, the charity offered to Margó is typical of giving a few pesos to a panhandler: while temporary help is given, in no way is it permanent. Distances are maintained and separate socio-economic statuses stay stagnant.

The various dichotomies which exist between the two sisters and Margó can be partly explained through the balance of power related to the different socio-economic classes. What we have in the previous dialogue is a stark contrast between convenience and necessity. Raymond Williams comments about this separation of ideas: “In a class society, all beliefs are founded on class position […]” (122). In other words, because Rebeca and Lila continue to live within a separate class structure from Margó, these sisters also possess separate beliefs, whether religious or profane. This helps explain why the two sides think so differently. On the one hand, Rebeca and Lola seem so unsympathetic towards Margó, who, contrariwise, appears to be very kind and loving. And ultimately, each audience member will side on the one side or the other, depending on in which social/economic tier they live. While this never justifies hypocritical or shallow treatment of those in a lower social tier, it does help explain, to some extent, the gigantic gap in personality and ideas between the sisters and Margó.

Lola also demonstrates her hypocritical charity immediately after Rebeca insinuates displacing Margó. Lola finds out Margó wore her blue dress without asking permission. Before Margó arrives, while in confidence with Rebeca, Lola threatens to kill Margó if she dirtied any part of her dress: “¡Donde me haya ensuciado mi vestido … la mato!” (Where she’s dirtied my dress … I’ll kill her!) (Ibargüengoitia 57). Ibargüengoitia puts this hyperbolic statement to the test; Margó arrives and has in fact dirtied Lola’s dress. Rebeca is horrified at this news, especially after hearing Lola’s murderous threat, an obvious hyperbolic desire. Yet, Lola reacts nonchalantly.

Rebeca: Qué bueno que no te enojaste con ella. (I’m glad you didn’t get angry

with her.)

Lola: ¿A quién se le ocurre comer mango con mi vestido puesto? Parece de

rancho. (Who eats a mango wearing my dress? She acts like a hick.)

Rebeca: Tenle paciencia. (Be patient.)

Lola: Pero es que… es que… parece de rancho. (But it’s just…just… she acts like

a hick.)

Rebeca: Tenemos que aguantarla. (We just have to tolerate her.) (59)

Lola expresses her anger to Rebeca, while having previously put on a façade for Margó. In fact, she tells Margó she did what was right in not waking her up to ask permission to wear it. Lola is indeed upset, but for Margó’s sake she treats this moment as a way to show her charitable spirit and unawareness of material possessions.

Both of these instances are direct demonstrations of these sisters’ hypocritical charity and selfish behavior. In them, Ibargüengoitia attacks a religious norm, and in México, a societal norm, through Lola’s words: “Mira: en la vida hay muchas cosas que no nos gustan, pero tenemos que sufrirlas con paciencia, porque Dios nos las manda, para probarnos. Muchas veces hay que sacrificarse por los demás”. (Look: In life there are lots of things we don’t like, but we have to suffer them with patience because God sends them to us, trying us. Many times we have to sacrifice ourselves for others.) (56). The combination of social awareness, coupled with a religious undertone, shows Ibargüengoitia’s keen sense of articulation for some of the delicate intricacies within his society. The sisters make themselves pious martyrs. However, Ibargüengoitia calls into question this religious piety as he seeks to deal with excuses offered by those of the middle and upper classes in Mexico for their mistreatment of the poor.

According to this text, I would argue Ibargüengoitia would have us think about how we treat the poor, in terms of longevity vs. short-sightedness, as well as how we view charity towards the more destitute classes in society. Making Margó the symbol of the poor, Rebeca’s words ring loud for the latter: “Tenemos que aguantarla”. (We just have to put up with her.) (59). According to Rebeca’s argument, her high society is merely tolerating the poor. Those who act this way offer no thoughtful long-term solution, but rather offer a meager buttress, used only to prop up the poor in times of necessity. However, by now the sisters’ patience has run out; they continue to endure Margó, even though her time with them has only been for a relatively short while.

Aristotelian Catharsis

These previous episodes (ruining a dress, criticism for not adhering to accepted social norms, etc.) are also potential candidates for what Aristotle would call cathartic moments. As Allan Gilber argues in his article “The Aristotelian Catharsis,” not only does a tragic end qualify as a cathartic moment, but the various elements of the plot and the play structure itself (310). Catharsis refers to the idea proposed initially by Aristotle that the audience, upon viewing a tragic hero in Greek drama, would feel a mixture of emotions, like pity, anxiety or fear, and that his feeling would ultimately provoke audience participants to avoid such actions themselves. These girls’ hypocrisy throughout the play, as well as other instances that provoke such feelings as pity, anxiety and fear, would qualify for cathartic moments even though they are not the overarching theme or tragic end, but are “various elements of the plot” (310). Indeed, many instances throughout the play provoke pity, such as Rebeca’s desire for a more concrete and promising future with Armando, and Lola’s desire for more material objects while her husband lacks interest in providing them through work. This reversal of pity from Margó to the sisters calls into question whether Ibargüengoitia also wants to provoke sympathy towards a class that, in some ways, is more destitute than the poor.

One of the initial cathartic moments occurs in the first act when Ibargüengoitia explicates Rebeca’s relationship with Armando. Rebeca awaits Armando’s arrival with such meticulous detail, quoting her diary from previous years of his precise arrival at seven o’clock in the evening. His tardiness leaves Rebeca in despair. However, this quickly changes when Armando arrives:

Rebeca: ¡My dear!

Armando: Perdóname. Se me hizo tardísimo. (Forgive me. I’m so late.)

Rebeca: ¿Tardísimo? Extrañada. Al contrario, apenas son siete y media. La cita era para las ocho. (So late? Surprised. On the contrary, it’s only just seven thirty. The invitation was for eight.)

Armando: Sentido. Siempre había llegado a las siete. ¿No te acuerdas? (Hurt. I’ve always arrived at seven. You don’t remember?)

Rebeca: Inocente. No. (Innocent. No.)

Armando: Y yo preocupado porque creí que estarías esperándome. (And I was worried because I thought you would be waiting for me.)

Rebeca: ¡Qué va!, si llegas antes, me pones en un aprieto, porque tuve mucho quehacer. (Don’t be silly! If you arrive early you put me in a tight spot because I had a lot to do.) (24)

While this episode about Armando and Rebeca does not relate explicitly to Margó, it nonetheless articulates Rebeca’s cognizance of social norms over meaningful relationships. It also demonstrates Ibargüengoitia’s desire to provoke sympathy towards the upper classes, those who would ultimately feel sympathy for Rebeca and Lola.

The audience’s pity initially falls on Rebeca because her ability to please her boyfriend with pleasantries also demonstrates her inability to go farther in her relationship with Armando. For example, each year Armando arrives at Rebeca’s birthday with virtually the same gift: a small chest with Japanese peanuts. This gift symbolically represents their stagnant relationship. Rebeca enthusiastically receives her gift as if she had no recollection of Armando’s previous gifts. This routine creates an annual tragedy that demonstrates Rebeca’s inability to further a meaningful relationship due to her habitual nature of adhering to social norms of politeness. In other words, she is more worried about disappointing her boyfriend about his kind and stagnant gestures, than confronting their static relationship and moving forward.

Ibargüengoitia further recapitulates Rebeca’s tragic situation through her conversation with Memo, Lola’s husband. This year, in preparation for Armando’s arrival, Rebeca hid a few pictures around the apartment. Rebeca informs Memo about the changes; he replies indifferently.

Memo: […] Llevo tres años con ellos y no sé si me gustan o me parecen horribles. Fíjate qué chistoso. (I’ve had three years with these [pictures] and I don’t know if I like them or if they’re horrible. Isn’t that something.)

Rebeca: Qué raro. (How strange.)

Memo: El que me los vendió me dijo que eran muy bonitos, pero después dijo lo mismo de un cuadrito, que hizo un amigo mío, que es la cosa más horrible del mundo. (The person that sold me them told me they were beautiful, but afterwards he said the same thing about a painting my friend mad that’s the worst thing in the world.)

Rebeca: Así que no sabe. (So he doesn’t know.)

Memo: Leyendo. Sabe vender. (Reading. He knows how to sell.) (17-18)

This conversation, read in relation to Rebeca and Armando’s relationship, is remarkably, and implicitly, didactic. Memo’s conclusion as to whether or not his paintings are beautiful is of no consequence anymore, because the effective seller influenced his purchase. While it may not have been relationship advice for Rebeca, the didactic reverberations are still applicable. Whether or not Rebeca is beautiful, or adheres to social norms, is of no consequence; Rebeca needs to find an effective way to sell herself—outside of decorum.

By demonstrating through his characters’ vain charity and false pretense, Ibargüengoitia offers starting points for consideration: why and how do the poor remain poor, as well as how the middle class approximates its poor. Through his characters he demonstrates that there are some who help others in need (as seen by Rebeca and Lola’s transient help), but not in any way which provides long-term commitment or results: rather, interaction occurs with a ten-foot-pole, for lack of a better metaphor. In other words, people like Rebeca and Lola maintain relative distance from those they help so as neither to contaminate themselves with other problems nor become too involved in others’ affairs. This type of charity fluctuates between sudden bursts of desires to help others, as opposed to worrying about personal matters. For example, Rebeca and Lola give Margó some clothes and a place to stay while she looks for a job in the city. At no point do they consider a long term plan to help her climb out of her cyclical poverty. In fact, at the end, each person returns to their original state, the sisters with their social preoccupations, and Margó with Enrique. The play’s ending facilitates this Aristotelian catharsis. The play’s structure is tragic because it demonstrates the cyclical and tragic social consequences Ibargüengoitia finds inherent among Mexico’s class structures. It also invokes an emotional response within the audience, towards a potential positive change.

Although the play at times deals lightheartedly (Lola’s dress, etc.) with these powerful social themes, the ending’s tragic dialogue is the final nail in the coffin for Margó’s secure future in poverty. Before leaving, Margó makes a final attempt to stay with her “family.” She practically begs Rebeca and Lola to admit her in their house, arguing that she feels comfortable with them, does not like to be alone and that she feels abandoned, each phrase successfully stronger than the previous:

“Pero yo no quiero irme a ningún lado. No quiero estar sola. Me pongo triste sola”. (But I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to be alone. I become sad alone.)

“Aquí estoy muy a gusto”. (Here I feel right at home.)

“A Memo. Señor: tenga un poco de compasión de mí. Estoy abandonada, admítame en su casa. No puedo estar sola”. (To Memo. Sir: have compassion on me. I’m abandoned, please allow me a place in your home. I cannot be alone.)

(Ibargüengoitia 108)

However, the sisters do not budge; they want Margó to leave, no matter how much she implores them to let her stay. In fact, the last plea seems to invoke Christian imploring, which only solidifies the audience’s pitiful reaction to Margó’s condition, especially as her former “sisters” now essentially throw her out. Previous to this conversation, Enrique, an older person with ties to Margó’s former life, arrives at Lola’s apartment. He casually converses with Memo, but once Rebeca and Lola realize who he is they immediately throw him out of the apartment. He says he is only looking for a document Margó took with her, but the sisters believe he wants to take Margó back with him. It is not clear, at this point or any point in the play, what Enrique’s true relationship is with Margó; but he must be a part of the past Margó carries with her, judging by Rebeca and Lola’s reaction. In the ensuing dialogue after the two sisters refuse to give Margó a place to stay, Margó realizes her “sisters” omitted informing her about Enrique’s visit through Memo. This crucial moment is the catalyst for Margó, because she realizes that if this company does not want her, then at least she will not feel abandoned by Enrique who came from afar to see her.

Rebeca and Lola, and their entourage (Armando and Memo), are a reflection of Mexico’s upper societies and their utter ignorance of, and lack of help towards, those in poverty. Margó stood a better chance of escaping her cyclical socio-economic status because she had ties with people who, in their power, have the ability to offer long-term assistance and a path out of poverty. Others are less fortunate because they fight alone, with no assistance from others. But when Margó is completely abandoned by her family, she must fight alone as well. In fact, this makes her situation even more tragic; she not only fights alone, but is actually abandoned by people she thought cared about her. Once considered a “sister,” Rebeca, Lola and Memo now throw her out.

The immediate ending of the play is a return to the normative relationships established at the beginning, in which Ibargüengoitia demonstrates the inefficacy of Rebeca and Lola’s feigned charity. Margó leaves with a determination to marry Enrique and leave behind her past. Although we might still questions who exactly Enrique is, or whether his intentions with Margó are good or bad, at this point he is the one person who appears to actually care about her, making a long trip to see her. Margó leaves amid the company’s cheerful and optimistic attitude, knowing Margó will soon be gone forever. In fact, Ibargüengoitia writes in the actors’ notes for Armando to act happy when he hears Margó’s decision to leave. She leaves behind her clothes, rushes out the door and falls clumsily on the stairs in her hurry. Her final words back to her former “family” are telling: “Me maté. Adiós. Feliz.” (I almost killed myself. Goodbye. Happy.) (113). Margó is hopeful for her future with Enrique despite being betrayed by Rebeca and Lola. Although Margó’s words in their immediate context relate specifically to her being clumsy on the stairs, in a broader context they signify her future. She resigns herself to her former impoverished state, and the lifestyle Rebeca and Lola were worried their guests would jeer at when Margó attended Rebeca’s birthday party. Margó’s stagnant life with Rebeca and Lola ended in a regressive outcome. She metaphorically killed herself, by returning to the past she gave up in hopes for a better future. However, those closest to her, the ones who actually had the possibilities, economically and socially, to pull Margó out of her poverty, chose to abandon her.

Conclusion

If Margó represents the poor in Mexico, and the sisters represent the middle class, then Ibargüengoitia’s allegorical piece of theater represents a push toward a dialogue and conviviality between the two. By reworking his own society on stage, providing a window into Mexico’s upper classes and their treatment of the poor, Ibargüengoitia wrote a charged piece of theater for his audience. The important discussion which unfolds, demonstrates his concern not only towards the poor, but his fellow friends in the middle and upper socio-economic classes. After all, Ibargüengoitia by no means grew up nor lived in poverty. In the play, Rebeca and Lola emulate a depraved sense of awareness for others, as well as their obsession with customs, both of which Ibargüengoitia observed among his peers. He then articulated that reality on the stage.

And I would only pose the thought again that this play may be viewed as an allegory of Mexico’s progress as a society, especially as it considered, towards the middle of the 20th century, in what ways it meant to be Mexican, what the founding fathers fought for, and if current society was moving towards their goals. Ibargüengoitia, while criticizing his society, also gave them a non-violent way to reflect on their past, present, and potential future. His play is a critical piece of literature when viewed as a symbolic metaphor of Mexico.

Ibargüengoitia felt Llegó Margó turned out to be a failure, but his work has survived to the present. While it is true the “doors of fame” for Ibargüengoitia’s theater career were closed in the 1950s; today, his works are still studied and revered, as is the case with this analysis. Ibargüengoitia has much to offer critics who look back at Mexico’s history and search for information regarding the cultural anxieties present during the middle-half of the 20th century, especially as Mexico sought to evaluate its progression during the semi-centennial celebration of the Mexican Revolution. Perhaps as his works continue to be analyzed by objective researchers, the effectual doors of fame will gradually open, as is the case with many posthumous writers.

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