I decided that it was finally time to get around to reading Atomik Aztex by Sesshu Foster based upon my enjoyment of The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Both books are “offbeat” and feature Latin American/Caribbean settings and themes. It seemed to be a groove worth settling into. (I used to “theme” read much more often that I do now…)
Aztex had several other items in the “plus column” to recommend it: it won The Believer Book Award (2006), it was published by City Lights, and it was edited by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Those are all positives as far as I’m concerned. Expectations were high. If I able to tell you with any certainty what the book is about, it might have succeeded in meeting those expectations. The failings may be mine.
Aztex could be about several things. It could be about the ancient Aztex (I’m going with the plural used in the novel) and their belief in multiple and simultaneous conceptions of time, place, and history. An oracle of sorts goes into epileptic fits wherein he has vivid visions of alternate realities. In most realities, the Aztex are proud rulers of most of the known world. In others, they have allowed themselves to be duped by Europeans and find that their civilization has melted away into the jungles.
A truly inspired piece of the novel involves the Aztex joining forces with the Russians in 1942 in preparation for turning back the Nazis. The Aztex, masters of spiritual “aesthetiks,” are decked out in feathered capes, golden jewelry and facial piercings. Zenzontli, our narrator, evaluates the Aztex prospects:
…these Germans don’t have a chance here in Stalingrad. Cuz they’re just going along, doing their job as they see it, not expecting the unexpected, then some Aztek warriors jump out at them! Then they’re f*cked, right? Cuz who has the elements of surprise? The Germans, who think they’re over here clearing out some lebensraum from lesser Slavik races so they can erect fortress cities across the steppes, built on a plan of Teutonik efficiency, the local population cleared out except for slave labor camps? Or us — your Aztek special forces warriors — who are sneaky, tough, hardened, intelligent, good looking, all around nice guys, studded with all types of metaphysikal dekorations, war paint, spiritual jewelery studs sticking out of our faces, stern, determined brows, quetzal feathers and plumes of rare vanishing species of the rainforest? No contest, right? Now you know why the Germans had to lose World War 2.
The novel may be about an undocumented Mexican factory worker in a California meat packing plant in the forties who is trying to organize the workers. His daily grind sprinkled with vivid fantasies of the lost glory of his people. Maybe.
It could also be an absurdist indictment of our current political situation. The Azteks continue to perform human sacrifice to fuel the engine of their “teknospiritual economik” society. Naturally, human sacrifice can make some pansies on the left a little philosophical:
We Aztex also gotta admit that we have things to learn from the peoples whose hearts we’re cutting out. We have to control our own science, teknology, and power when we subjugate primitive kultures and cut their hearts out in the most cost-efficient, legal manner possible. That’s all there is to it. I know that this is not a popular position.
and
The generals on both sides tried to put some order into their mass catastrophe, but without real success and without any substantial Modern Aesthetik guidelines. In our Aztek view, that was their main flaw. All this death and destruction without any poetik or aesthetik point to it meant that Tezkatlipoka, Huitzilopochtli, and the universal forces they represent would never really take any notice, nothing would come of it… — not where it counted on the teknospiritual plane…
Zenzontli seems to be the narrator throughout the novel. I could be wrong. The narrator(s?) also appears to have some confusion about the reality of the tale:
…you are receiving the Truth and unalloyed facts of someone who was there…That’s why everything that I say is completely objective and everything happened exactly like I say. Becuz…I can’t remember why…but I’m sure it’s true…probably becuz I suspect that everything happened just like the way that I think it happened…
In the end of course, the point may be that all of reality is subjective. In the words of Zenzontli:
Prove you are alive. Prove it.
You’d think that I would have unreservedly loved a novel that I quoted this extensively from. And yet, the truth of the matter is that I often found myself adrift in the novel, and not in a good way. As much as I was dazzled by the writing, I came away feeling that there may not have been any poetik or aesthetik point to the exercise. I’d love to have it explained to me.
Reading to the bottom bonus: I Bookmooch-ed this one, so it didn’t cost me anything. If you want to take Aztex for a spin and report back to me on what you make of the whole thing (that’s part of the deal!), I’ll drop it in the mail. Leave a comment below if you want it. Otherwise, it’s going back into my Bookmooch inventory.
Books, To Checkout | Tim | 
December 10, 2007 8:37 am | 
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