Bless Me, Ultima
By: Rudolfo Anaya / Narrated By: Robert Ramirez
Length: 11 hrs and 12 mins
Narration adds much-needed levity to what could be a heavy book
When my sister and I were browsing for Hispanic Heritage Month audiobooks, Bless Me, Ultima was right up there on our list of books to buy. Okay so, like, I didn’t even think about it: I saw; I bought. Then my sister pointed out that I may’ve perhaps listened to the audio Sample as the narration seemed a tad… squirrelly… Oh damn, I thought. I went and did it again—leaping before I looked.
And at first, I thought I was indeed in for 11+ hours of comic and heavy-handed narration. Robert Ramirez adds a whooole lot of drama to pretty much each word, and there are pauses, there are squeals, there are oaths aplenty. He shouts; he growls—it winds up being comedic and chuckle-inducing.
But as the novel progressed, I came to realize that that was entirely necessary as Bless Me, Ultima could’ve been a heavy and ponderous meditation on good and evil, on faith and questioning, on ways of life that were coming to an end in the American Southwest at the end of WWII. It should be remembered that the novel is very much a coming of age story of young Antonio as he navigates a world where the elders speak only Spanish, where the Catholic Church holds sway over immortal souls, and where young men who’ve seen too much in the theaters of war come back with wanderlust at best, tormenting nightmares that lead to homicide at worst.
Indeed, the story pretty much starts off with a bang as Antonio witnesses a young man, who’s just committed murder while in a psychotic break, being killed by a posse of irate townsfolk. This starts Antonio to questioning all his dearly held ideals. He has, after all, been told that perhaps he’ll grow up to be a priest; he has a pretty solid footing about what the Church believes about how right and wrong are translated starkly into good vs. evil. But wasn’t the young man suffering? Wasn’t he delusional, screaming about the Japanese? Did it not appear that he wasn’t truly aware of what he was doing? And doesn’t that make the townsfolk murderers as well?
And where was God while all this was going on?
I loved how this book wove together the blasphemy of young boys (Get ready for a lot of swearing in Spanish!) with a consideration of faith along with a whole horror show of brujas conjuring demonic spirits and casting curses. And to go with that there’s Ultima, the curandera, battling evil with rituals, bringing healing with herbs and natural remedies, teaching Antonio to respect and honor nature, to thank the plants used for tinctures, to never flinch in the face of evil. She teaches him that a little bit of good will ALWAYS defeat evil.
But that’s kinda what the book is about as Antonio sees God as good, yes, but He’s kinda an unforgiving god. Now Mary, mother of Jesus: Perhaps she is where all that is good and forgiving comes from in religion. And then there’s the Golden Carp (That’s a whooole separate category of good and loving gods… who may cast wrath upon the world at any moment too…)
So I really, really enjoyed this book and am glad I finally got around to it (Even tho’ I must say I’m embarrassed that an Independent School District from around here moved to have it banned… tsk tsk) as it’s THE Chicano literary book of the century. And I really wound up enjoying the narration because there’s sooo much horror and hardship, so much supernatural evil, so much of the evil of men, that it was a delight to hear Ramirez voicing young boys cursing roundly and then wrestling each other to the ground, only to jump up and play First Holy Communion by making Antonio their priest… before cursing him roundly and then wrestling him to the ground.
Finally, there is Florence, Antonio’s young friend. And if you don’t weep when you hear the words that come from that boy’s mouth, from his tortured soul? Well then you, my friend, don’t have the heart for this story…
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.