“One hundred guinea pigs”: Luces’s criticism of Gustavo Rodríguez’s novel

In “For a Sociology of the Novel” Lucien Goldmann defined the modern novel as one in which a problematic hero undertook a search for authentic values ​​in a degraded context. Under this prism, it could be said -at first glance- that Eufrasia Vela, protagonist of “Cien guinea pigs”, the latest fiction of gustavo rodriguez (Lima, 1968) fulfills that role: she is a mature woman, of humble origins, who is in charge of several elderly people of different condition and fur; At one point in the story, she agrees to submit them to euthanasia, that social taboo, and to run all the risks that decision entails. But, as I said, that is only at first glance: in reality, “Cien guinea pigs” is a book in which all confrontation is attenuated -if not annulled- by ​​a complacent and costumbrist look more attentive to conciliation than to the crossroads. that it intends to hoist.

There is a problem with Rodríguez’s novels that in “Cien guinea pigs” reappears strengthened: the urgency of seeking the complicity of the reader at any cost. Said inconvenience is quite controlled in “Madrugada” -his best installment of him to date- because he forgets to tempt that favor to get into the ins and outs of a family tragedy with solvency. In the book that concerns us, a curious paradox occurs: we are told about the deterioration of the body, cognitive collapse, the dilemma of assisting the voluntary death of our neighbor, but we almost never feel confronted or uncomfortable by that harsh reality that is placed before us. .

The reasons for this are diverse. One is the thick caricature of the characters that animate this mosaic, sketches always smiling and with predictable actions whose names leave no doubt about the nature that Rodríguez instills in them: la Pollo, Hernández y Fernández, Tío Miguelito. The one who is saved from this tendency to brush is Dr. Harrison, a complex actor, of great emotional richness, perhaps the only one who faces death with an attitude capable of moving us and questioning us.

Another objection is the place assigned to Eufrasia within this set-up. Her attitude towards euthanasia does not contain the slightest defiance, heroism or tension. She does not even assume a mechanical posture that could suggest a brutal indifference to the suppression of the existence of others; rather, she undertakes her work with sheepish passivity and even charging for it, which brings us back to Goldmann, who affirms that the problematic hero is incapable of finding the long-awaited authentic values ​​of her when men’s relationships become mere merchandise. Neither rebellious nor holy, Eufrasia is a utilitarian element that reinforces that obedient perspective of the world based on consumption and demand.

I’ve read reviews that praise the fluidity of the prose in “Cien cuyes”. I allow myself to disagree: the choice of a bookish language, which aspires to density, does nothing more than emphasize the lack of depth that affects the situations and reflections that make up the novel, the product of an author who seems more concerned with the occurrence and the wit than humor and literature. The bottom line is that Rodríguez wants to deal with the great issues of our condition, but without sacrificing the placidity of his readers. And sometimes you have to choose. “One hundred guinea pigs” refuses to do so and hence the central cause of the frustration that this book embodies.