In Bless Me, Ultima, Anaya tells a good story, one concerning a boy's passage from childlike innocence to a deeper, brooding awareness of the death and life around him. Aside from the boy, the other central figure of the novel is Ultima—an aging, compassionate, ultimately mysterious, folkhealer who works her magic among a scattered group of New Mexico rural dwellers. As a sensitively drawn character, she can be compared favorably to Castañeda's Don Juan, the current favorite wiseman whose blessings are ancient, indigenous skills and knowledge. In fact, in some ways we are pulled closer to Ultima—or the solitary Indian visionary in Leslie Silko's novel, Ceremony. This is probably because our sympathies with the young central character, through whom we see such old practitioners of the ancient touch, are deeper, more natural than the sympathy we may hold for Don Juan's eager student.
The same can be said for Anaya's portrayal of many other characters in the novel: the boy's devout mother, a disillusioned father, two older brothers facing World War II, and a score of delightfully, often hilariously, depicted kids of the llano, New Mexico's eastern plains country. The book has some funny scenes and one oddly funny character named the "Vitamin Kid," a compulsive runner who appears throughout as some sort of harbinger of forebodings unmentioned. And just as Anaya skillfully uses a naive narrative focus to heighten humor, especially among kids, he also convincingly depicts mystery, violence and terror through innocent eyes. Dreams, folk myths, exorcism, murder and human disfigurement—actually quite a storytelling feast, and it all blends, builds toward the graphically brutal, cathartic final scenes.
This is a free excerpt of 268 words. There are 375 words (approx.
1 page at 300 words per page) in the full critical essay.
Read the rest of this Criticism with our Anaya, Rudolfo A(lfonso) 1937–: Critical Essay by Ron Arias Access Pass.
