Bruce Dean Willis

is Professor of Spanish and Comparative Literature at The University of Tulsa. His research and publications focus on diverse aspects of poetry and performance, and expressions of Indigenous and African cultures, in Latin American literature, particularly Brazil, Chile, and Mexico.

TIME FOR CHOCOLATE is available for purchase through One Act Play Depot! A brief description:

An intoxicating evening of music, poetry, and chocolate... in pre-conquest Mexico!
Based on a fifteenth-century dialogue among nobles schooled in rhetoric and philosophy, the play pits father against son in a war of words over the power and beauty of artistic expression.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

The Body Nahua

A major characteristic of the Nahuatl language is its tendency, called agglutination, to string shorter nouns together into polysyllabic jawcrackers. Most languages allow this compound formation to an extent, but Nahuatl (language of the Mexica or Aztecs and many other groups) surprisingly so.


As a passionate but amateur Nahuatl-learner, and scholar of literary representations of the body in Latin America, I peruse the text and diagrams of Alfredo López Austin's excellent Cuerpo humano e ideología: Las concepciones de los antiguos nahuas (UNAM, 1984) and decode the following agglutinations, which I present here as mathematical sums:


macpalli (hand) + yollotl (heart) = macpalyollotli (palm)
chichihualli (breast) + yacatl (nose) = chichihualyacatl (nipple)
cuitlapantli (lower back) + atetl (testicle) = cuitlapanatetl (kidney)


Nipple, nose of the breast: an intriguing equivalency, no less astounding for its inherently arbitrary relation. It may be easy to discard any similarity other than shape between testicles and kidneys, but the signifier seldom circumscribes the signified; in English we continue to use the term grapefruit when referring to what we know to be a citrus fruit that has very little in common with the grape.

I also learn from López Austin's careful scrutiny of the extant sources that the following sets of body parts were (and in some cases still are) common conceptualizations:


mayahuia = the throwers or projectors (hands, feet, eyes)
tlaczayatl = the runners (soles, elbows)
tlecallotl = the smokeholes (nostrils, mouth, anus)


The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis posits that language dictates thought. If I grow up accostumed to these terms and their meanings, perhaps I think more consciously about the looks I throw from my eyes, about efficient elbow movement when running, or about the sometimes fetid quality of speech? Does language dictate thought? It may not dictate, but it certainly influences to a large extent.


Just as fascinating is the author's elucidation of the three "entidades anímicas." The tonalli (in or from the head), teyolía (in or from the heart), and ihíyotl (in or from the liver) overlap various Western ideas such as will, lifeforce, fate, soul, or spirit. López Austin occupies several chapters with the philosophical as well as social ramifications of these concepts, which are complex human ideas resulting from centuries of thought and practice. Their contextualizations did not disappear with the Iberian invasion; in fact, in one form or another the above concepts, among many others and their derivatives, show up in Spanish every day in emergency rooms across the United States. To attempt to understand cultural backgrounds is to identify and evaluate alternative points of view--in this case, the perspectives of Mesoamericans about their own bodies.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

interstícios

na linha que dança entre sombra e sol
no espaço que paira entre céu e mar

entre seus olhos e as palavras escritas
entre as palavras que soam no ar

fica nos interstícios do dizer e fazer
o achamento não pensado e o pensamento sem achar

o vocábulo sem definir que ficou impronunciável
e a especiaria dividida entre pimenta e sal

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Café Topéca

There's a great groove and flow happening at Café Topéca on 5th Street in downtown Tulsa.

The flow goes, as the owners say (and I've met them, they're great people) from "seed to cup." It's a family-run business all the way from the generations-old coffee plantations in El Salvador to the roasting facility and the café in Tulsa. Smooth, nutty taste of shade-grown coffee in several varieties "from seed to cup"! And the baristas are multi-talented, crafting terrific joe while selecting the best alternative rock, folk, and other contemporary tunes.


Camera-worthy Mocha

The groove is all about taste and atmosphere. On the street level of the newly renovated Mayo Hotel, Café Topéca features original art-deco Maya motif tiles! It's yet another aspect of my affinity for the place, where I like to relax on their comfortable seating with a good book, pen, and paper. Many are the posts for this very blog that have sparked and been developed at Café Topéca!


  One of the Maya motif tiles along the floor

Café Topéca even sponsors barista competitions and a University of Tulsa continuing education course on coffee. Classy place to meet with friends, colleagues, family. Café Topéca, the last word on socially responsible, environementally responsible, great-tasting coffee from Latin America. 

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Magos, Reyes, Santos

Siempre me asignaban, en las Christmas pageants de antaño, el papel de rey mago. Recuerdo haber llevado una vez una bata elaborada que hizo ad hoc mi mamá, de colores llamativos y diseños esotéricos. Me gustan los reyes magos. Caen bien, aunque un poco pesados también, no tan livianos como los pastores. ¿Santos reyes? ¿Reyes magos? Pero casi nunca "santos reyes magos." ¿Un mago, un rey, y un santo?

Tanto en EUA ("We Three Kings of Orient Are") como en el mundo hispanohablante existe la tradición de sus nombres: Melchor, Baltasar (apodados en México "Malhechor" y "Va a asaltar"), y Gaspar. Pero también existe, en el mundo hispanohablante, la tradición de que Baltasar es africano y monta un elefante (los elefantes africanos, a diferencia de los asiáticos, nunca han sido domados), y los otros dos, vagamente del Medio Oriente, montan un camello y un caballo. Bueno, conste que ni sus nombres ni sus animales aparecen en los evangelios.

En el D.F. sigue la tradición de las fotos con los reyes en La Alameda, claro. Y para los niños de buena fe los reyes traen regalos durante la noche del 5 para el 6 de enero - en vez de las botitas o stockings, es la costumbre en muchos hogares el colocar los zapatos en la puerta, ventana, o chiminea como recipientes de los regalitos - ya no incienso y oro sino juguetes y dulces. Los niños (y papás) más atentos llenan los zapatos de heno para los animales, y dejan también rosca o alguna merienda para los reyes.

La rosca es mi tradición favorita del también llamado Día de Epifanía, fin del maratón festivo "Guadalupe-Reyes." La rosca se parece al kings' cake de Mardi Gras en la costa estadounidense del Golfo de México. Pero hay de roscas a roscas. Muchas, las comunes, están secas y decoradas con frutitas cristalizadas. Otras tienen relleno: crema, mermelada de frambuesa (!!)... Y su consumo se acompaña con chocolate caliente o café. Muy sabido es que todos parten su propia rebanada de la rosca, porque el que encuentre el muñequito (el niño Jesús - a veces se ponen dos o más muñequitos para mayor diversión) se ve obligado a invitar a los demás a comer tamales con atole el día dos de febrero, el Día de la Candelaria, en el que se supone que María y José llevaron a Jesús a presentarlo en el templo.

Minidiálogo de los reyes (continuación de la minipastorela):

Baltasar: ¡Chin! ¡Este elefante se me encabritó!
Melchor: ¿Ya llegamos? Me muero de impaciencia.
Gaspar: El regalo superior es el amor.

Una Rosca de Reyes ejemplar que hizo mi esposa. Tiene nueces y moras.