Fausto Avendano | Biography

Fausto Avendaño stands among the most learned of contemporary Chicano writers, one who demonstrates exceptional skill in the short story and drama. Having published many short stories in the United States and Mexico, he is fluent in both Spanish and English, though most of his publications are in Spanish. His historical play, El corrido de California (The Ballad of California, 1979), is a good example of his dramatic talents. In it he gives life and shape to historical facts, creating an interesting and compelling plot.

Born in Culiacán, in the Mexican state of Sinaloa, Avendaño came to California with his parents at the age of four. He grew up in Southern California, primarily in the San Diego area, where he attended school and four years of college. As a student his first love was art. He had wanted to study painting, hoping eventually to do so in Paris, but soon realized that languages and literature were more to his liking. His studies were interrupted by two years in the United States Army, serving in Hawaii when the Vietnam War was in its first stages. Once home he resumed his studies at San Diego State University and the National University of Mexico and eventually found himself in Tucson, Arizona, where he enrolled in a doctoral program. By this time Avendaño knew he would dedicate his life to literature--especially Hispanic literature. Recipient of a Ford Foundation Fellowship and a grant from the Gulbenkian Foundation, Avendaño traveled to Europe to study at the University of Lisbon, finishing his doctorate in Hispanic and Luso-Brazilian languages and literatures in 1973. During these years he became proficient in Portuguese and French. The recipient of a Fulbright Fellowship (1983) and a grant from the California State University Foundation, Avendaño has lived and traveled in Mexico, South America, and Europe, especially France, where he was an exchange professor (1983-1984). He has published numerous articles, essays, and translations. In an unpublished 1987 interview he said, "I had always considered academic publications necessary in my case because they gave me the necessary skills for more creative writing." He will no doubt continue to produce academic work, but he says he limits it more and more in order to dedicate his time and energy to creative work.

Although Avendaño began publishing in the early 1970s, he acknowledges he was not prepared to produce a major work until the late 1970s and early 1980s. He has finished two novels. Two plays and various short stories are also in the process of completion. "I sometimes feel that I should be further along as a writer," says Avendaño. "And I am sure some colleagues expect more from me, but the truth is I am where I should be, considering the circumstances. I started late--as so many of our [Chicano] writers. My high school education was almost nil with respect to literature and zero when it came to Hispanic literature. I didn't start reading our fundamental works till two or three years into college. Had I been raised with literary magazines, novels, plays; had there been tertuliastertulias (improvised discussions) and poetry readings at home--as is the case with so many of our leading Hispanic writers--perhaps it would have been a different story. I had to catch up, make up for lost time."

Avendaño's play, El corrido de California, has a compelling plot and interesting characters, some based on historical figures. The play explores psychological and social changes within a Mexican family in Alta California during the American invasion of 1846. The focus is on the emotional and intellectual strain experienced by Don Gerónimo, a dynamic character who in a short time has to assimilate drastic changes in his life. Although--like many Mexicans of his time--he admires the United States and its Constitution, he is torn by his son's obstinate decision to resist the American presence. Don Gerónimo, the alcalde (mayor) of a small town, tries to remain apolitical, arguing that the affairs of nations, including war and annexation, are the concerns of those at the seat of power, namely Mexico City and Washington. However, his son Rafael and many of the townspeople believe that they as men can do no less than resist open aggression, no matter the outcome. "Por mi parte," says Rafael, "mil veces prefiero la muerte que recibir, encogido y melindroso, al enemigo triunfante, sin disparar una sola bala ni lanzar una sola cuchillada. No. Perderíamos más que la vida. ¡Perderíamos el derecho de llamarnos hombres!" (As for me, I prefer death a thousand times over than to shrink obligingly before a triumphant enemy, without firing a shot nor raising a blade. No. We would lose more than our lives. We would relinquish the right to call ourselves men!). In the end Don Gerónimo realizes that his son has been right all along. The circumstances call for sacrifice and determination, not passive acceptance of a new order. No amount of accommodation with the American presence will change the facts of war. Resistance, no matter the outcome, is essential for the very survival of his people. Don Gerónimo learns that Americans are not invincible and Mexicans, regardless of political change in California, need not accept subjugation. Rafael defeats Kearny's forces in the Battle of San Pascual but is killed in the process. As the play comes to a close, Don Gerónimo is completely transformed. He joins the resistance and leads his fellow citizens into battle.

Although his play has not yet been produced, Avendaño is attempting to raise ethnic awareness with El corrido de California. As such, the play can be related to the work of Chicano historians Rodolfo Acuña, Fernando Rivera, and Juan Gómez-Quiñones. Although he never allows readers to lose sight of his didactic purpose, Avendaño's characters are well drawn. His use of allegory (to explain, for example, the concept of Manifest Destiny) and corrido (ballad) are well integrated. The play has been praised by Armando Miguélez, who says that in it historical fact is meshed with dramatic tension so that the political and philosophical thought of the time is presented clearly. Oscar U. Somoza, too, asserts that Avendaño helps create the foundations for Mexican-American historical theater in the United States.

Avendaño's stories provide readers with a good assortment of interesting characters from farm workers and bureaucrats to actors and poets, among others. "Juan González, poeta" (1985) and "El forastero" (1984) are perhaps among his best. In the first story Juan González, an aging poet, though mocked by his peers, doggedly clings to his dream of publishing his first book. Raw talent and a deep love of poetry, however, fall short of the demands of art. González, instead of delighting audiences, bores them with his ghastly verse. Yet, as the story comes to a close, González emerges triumphant, at last recognized by all as a true poet. The protagonist of "El forastero" must alter her perception of reality in order to cope with life. The young Raquel is the bride of an older man who fails to provide the companionship she needs. In desperation she finds refuge in a dream world that eventually becomes her torment. Nebiros, a stranger, appears from nowhere to dissipate her every frustration, but reality is harsh, and in the end she must face the fact that her lover is not real.

In general, Avendaño's work emphasizes Chicano culture over political considerations. "Of course," he says, "there is political content in my writing--politics exists in most literature to some degree--but I don't want to force ideology or dogma down people's throats. As a writer, I ultimately want to entertain. I am inclined toward culture and wish to preserve it for future generations because, without it, we would disappear as a people; I think political gains may, therefore, depend on a collective awareness and appreciation of our cultural heritage."

If Avendaño were to stop writing today he would still hold an important place among Mexican-American writers, for El corrido de California is among the first and most effective examples of Chicano historical theater. However, his importance as a writer will probably lie in the works he has yet to publish. He is in the process of completing a play, "Abrahán Salazar," and a novel, "The Chicken Tenders," about the world of polleros (smugglers of aliens).