At some early point along my Spanish learning journey, I was introduced to the mystical genre that is magic realism. Authors such as Gabriel García Márquez and Isabel Allende shaped my perception of what Spanish America was like. Their style of writing was like nothing I had ever seen before, so when I was given the task of researching an aspect of Hispanic culture of my choosing, I decided to delve into the roots of magic realism and its lasting influence.

A note on my use of the term "Spanish American": though it may be relatively rare, I chose this over "Latin American" as that would include non-Spanish-speaking countries such as Brazil, and in place of "Hispanic" as that is generally accepted to include Spain and other Spanish-speaking countries outside of the Americas, all of which were outside of my focus for this study.

Introduction

Magic realism is a key theme in Spanish American literature, one which serves not to limit but to enrich. Its development follows the path of Spanish American history, from interactions between Europeans and native Americans to the quest for Spanish American identity in the postcolonial time. Though the boundaries and motivations of magic realism may be blurry – much like the literary style itself – I believe that it constitutes a vital part of Spanish American culture which should be celebrated, not shunned. I will begin this essay with an attempt at defining magic realism, followed by a retracing of its history. I will then discuss the Spanish American magic realism stereotype and contrasting views on this, before contemplating magic realism’s place in colonial and postcolonial Spanish America and its viability outside of that region.

What is magic realism?

There is much controversy surrounding this term, with academics unable to agree on exactly what or who should come under the umbrella of magic realism. The key concept would appear to be found in those two words themselves – magic realism – as literature in this category tends to blur the line between magic and reality (Siskind 2012). Aldama (2012: 334) explains magic realism as a writing style which “makes no distinction nor discriminates between events that defy the laws of nature (in physics or genetics, for example) and those that conform to the laws of nature.” Chiampi (1980: 155; cited in Siskind 2012: 834) sums this up as “the denaturalization of the real and the naturalization of the marvellous”.

How was magic realism formed?

Most recounts of the development of magic realism as we know it today begin with the German art critic Franz Roh, although it is interesting to note M. E. B. Rave’s suggestion that American explorers including Columbus could have been among the first to use the term, not to mention in the context of Spanish America, having been inspired by the “marvelous reality” of the New World (2003: 7). I presume that this origin, if it were true, would detract somewhat from the value of magic realism as a source of empowerment and identity in postcolonial Spanish America, given the cruel roles that such explorers played in the history of the region.

Franz Roh’s 1925 text Nach-Expressionismus - Magischer Realismus: Probleme Der Neuesten Europäischen Malerei (After Expressionism – Magic Realism: Problems of the Newest European Painting) is generally agreed to be the seed that would go on to be planted in the minds of Spanish American writers and then flourish into the literary genre of magic realism. Roh was using the term to discuss a trend in German painting away from expressionism and back to a new form of realism (Sdrigotti 2020). His text was translated into Spanish for José Ortega y Gasset’s Revista de Occidente (Western Magazine), a trendy Spanish publication which was especially popular in the educated upper-class realms of Spanish America (Sdrigotti 2020). The 1927 translation emphasised magic realism by using Realismo Mágico as the text’s title, however it omitted any use of those words within the text itself, contributing to the mysteriousness of the term and leaving it open to the readers’ interpretation (Roh 1995: 16; cited in Reeds 2006: 180). Is it somewhat of a deception for a term first coined in Europe to become synonymous with Spanish America? I think not, seeing as the translated text left the term devoid of context; besides, the original context of German painting is far from the magic realism we now know, with Roh worlds apart from the Spanish American setting.

Arturo Uslar Pietri, Alejo Carpentier and Miguel Ángel Asturias were three Spanish American writers credited with propagating the concept that would become magic realism in Spanish America. The three – a Venezuelan, Cuban, and Guatemalan respectively – met in Paris as emigrants in 1929 (Siskind 2012). What followed were decades of musings on their homeland, in a pursuit to capture what Pietri termed “the peculiar condition of the American world which was irreducible to any European model” (Pietri 1986: 135; cited in Siskind 2012: 838). The Spanish America of the time was growing and changing rapidly, “united in the search for its cultural identity”, and the three writers wanted to put a name to this identity (Harss 1969: 17; cited in Reeds 2006: 181). Their position as expatriates, outsiders looking in at Spanish America, made it easier for them to identify its unique characteristics (Siskind, 2012). Pietri was the first to narrow in on magic realism itself, when in a 1948 essay on Venezuelan and wider Spanish American literature (Letras y Hombres de Venezuela) he wrote, “What became prominent in the short story and left an indelible mark there was the consideration of man as a mystery surrounded by realistic facts. A poetic prediction or a poetic denial of reality. What for lack of another name could be called magical realism” (162; cited in Siskind 2012: 840). However, it would not be until a 1986 essay that Pietri would confirm Roh’s translated text as the “unconscious” source of the term (140; cited in Siskind 2012: 841).

In 1955 the Puerto Rican critic Ángel Flores published an essay that would provide magic realism with further exposure, although many would argue that this exposure had a negative impact on the integrity of the term. Magical Realism in Spanish American Fiction served to claim magic realism as something inherently Spanish American, the magnum opus of its literature scene (Sdrigotti 2020). Flores also expanded the term to apply to countless other texts regardless of their “historical, cultural and political” settings (Siskind 2012: 848). With the popularity of Flores’ English essay among the international audience, many Spanish American critics were infuriated that their native literature had become defined by an “empty signifier” (Siskind 2012: 849). I can understand their anger, and would agree that loosely applying the label to various works with varying degrees of magic realism was a mistake, as it damaged its reputation at the cost of Spanish American writers - who were most associated with it - even if they were not the ones responsible. Boiling magic realism down to the use of fantastic elements in an otherwise realistic story removes what I believe is the essence of magic realism: its ability to subtly capture relevant societal commentaries and weave them cleverly and intriguingly into the narrative.

Nevertheless, magic realism gained even more traction in the 1960s due to that decade’s boom in Spanish American literature, particularly the publication of One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez in 1967 (Siskind 2012: 852). Siskind (2012) puts this down to the Cuban Revolution sparking both passion within Spanish American writers and curiosity within foreign readers. One Hundred Years of Solitude is often touted as the prime example of magic realism, an instant success which crossed language barriers and spread the Spanish American interpretation of magic realism throughout Europe and the United States of America (Siskind 2012). At this point, magic realism had cemented itself as a fascinating literary style, be it in the Spanish American context or in its own right.

Magic realism's place in Spanish America

There is no denying that magic realism is a key theme in Spanish American literature, like it or not. However, Spanish American writers are in disagreement as to whether the strong association between the term and Spanish America is a source of pride or frustration. Personally, I believe that it ought to be the former, as magic realism represents the interaction of the various cultures within Spanish America and the political landscape that they found themselves in, formed into a creative style that could be appreciated the world over. I will now examine contrasting viewpoints on magic realism’s place in Spanish America.

Fernando Sdrigotti, an Argentine writer and critic, recently published a scathing essay on the perceived stereotype of everything in Spanish America being linked with magic realism. ““I have no qualms in declaring that this label isn’t in any way useful to explain all of the fiction produced south of Texas, as so many have tried to do, forcing the most disparate authors into this pigeonhole…” he claims; “magical realism doesn’t even say that much about the region’s fertile literary production, beyond what it might say about a handful of authors” (2020). He cites Sylvia Molloy’s (2005) “magical realist imperative”, the idea that magic realist literature is not only characteristic of, but demanded from, Spanish America. It seems to me by condemning magic realism and refuting its key contribution to Spanish American literature, Sdrigotti is invalidating the work of countless writers from Pietri, Carpentier and Asturias to present-day Spanish American authors who continue to take pride in magic realism as a form of expression. I would venture that Sdrigotti is not mad at magic realism itself, but at the way it has been misconstrued by critics like Flores.

Frederick Luis Aldama, in his chapter on magic realism, opens with the affirmation “Latino/a authors of narrative fiction have total freedom when it comes to choosing how to tell their stories” (Aldama 2012: 334). This viewpoint, in complete contrast to Sdrigotti’s, is reaffirmed constantly (perhaps pointedly) throughout the chapter. Instead of claiming Spanish American writers are constrained by the label of magic realism, Aldama suggests they simply “gravitate” towards it, that it is an “option” which “they have chosen and continue to choose” (2012: 334, 340). There is no “pigeonhole”, no “magical realist imperative” as claimed by Sdrigotti. I am apt to agree with this interpretation – I believe magical realism is so common in Spanish American literature because it is an appealing form of expression for writers, not the inverse.

In her Master’s thesis, M. E. B. Rave turns to Gabriel García Márquez himself in support of magic realism and its role in Spanish American literature. García Márquez felt a responsibility, she writes, to clarify that “the sense of wonder and infinite strangeness which emerges from much Latin American writing is a true reflection of the complex realities of Latin American experience, not merely the product of feverish literary imagination” (Minta 1987: 37; cited in 2003: 40). This view really cements for me the importance of magic realism in Spanish America; knowing that arguably the most well-known magic realist writer wanted to protect and promote it instead of breaking away from it as Sdrigotti would have, and that he genuinely believed in its relevance to the Spanish American environment as a whole.

Magic realism in colonial and postcolonial times

This leads me to my next point: magic realism’s role in colonial and postcolonial Spanish America, and its potential as a form of postcolonial expression in the rest of the World.

In a similar vein to Rave’s (2003) suggestion that the unfamiliar beauty of the New World may have inspired the European explorers to conceive the term magic realism, the Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa suggests magic realist tales were fuelled by misunderstandings and differences between the native Americans and Europeans during colonisation, who ended up “resorting to the fantastic as an explanation” (1998; cited in Sdrigotti 2020). The use of magic realism as a way of explaining the unfamiliar, mediating across cultures and healing from conflict really appeals to me, as it implies magic realism was like a coping mechanism, an integral part of life.

Magic realism remained a vital tool in postcolonial Spanish America, a way of “resignify[ing] colonial territories and pasts” (Siskind 2012: 835). It gave Spanish Americans their own voice, their own “decolonized space” in which they could express themselves without having to conform to European styles and norms (Faris 2004: 135; cited in Siskind 2012: 851). The success with which this movement took off and captivated an international audience begs the question: can magic realism be applied in other postcolonial contexts, or is it unique to Spanish America?

This largely depends on how you choose to define magic realism. Those who accept Flores’ view of magic realism as a writing style separate from political and historical contexts, characteristic of but not limited to Spanish America, would likely agree works by authors from other regions can also be considered as magic realist. Others would insist that genuine magic realism is entwined with Spanish American culture and cannot be separated. I would tend to agree with the latter, due to the salience of magic realism throughout the region and its history.

One common restriction when classifying magic realist literature is limiting it to works from colonised countries. This is in acknowledgement of the idea that magic realism is “an aesthetic that belongs organically to non-Western, or rather marginal, cultures” and not “a universal aesthetic that unveils the supernatural core of the real anywhere” (Warnes 2009: 28-29; cited in Siskind 2012: 851). Warnes claims that magic realism comes to life in the postcolonial context (2009; cited in Siskind 2012). I do support the idea of magic realism playing a role in the strengthening and empowerment of postcolonial movements in other areas of the World, however I believe writers in these areas ought to feel free to develop their own styles instead of feeling constrained to something which was created specifically by and for Spanish America and therefore may not be entirely suitable.

Finally, magic realism can also be restricted entirely to Spanish America. This is generally done out of pride for the label, treating it as something purely Spanish American. Some even express the belief that other cultures are incapable of producing magic realist works, and that their efforts are just futile attempts at recreating the same aura (Siskind 2012). While I am tempted to side with this view, I suppose there is a point at which we must all let go of something we have created and allow it to be deconstructed and reinterpreted by others. Perhaps it would not be inaccurate to suggest that Spanish America has become possessive of magic realism, and that it should allow the term to travel far and acquire new meanings, just as Franz Roh’s original use of it did.

Conclusion

Regardless of which definition you subscribe to or how you view its correlation with Spanish America, it is clear that magic realism has grown up within the region and has become synonymous with it. After analysing various views on magic realism, I am still of the opinion that it is something unique and important to Spanish America, and that Spanish American writers should preserve it. Doing so may be made difficult due to the globalisation and commercialisation of the term; nonetheless, the version of magic realism which lives on in Spanish America will always be genuine by nature of its setting. Magic realism does not limit Spanish American writers, nor is its production limited to Spanish America, however the two share bonds which transcend any label.

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