La noche es virgen (review)

278 Arizona Journal of Hispanic Cultural Studies La noche es virgen Editorial Anagrama, 1997 By Jaime Bayly On the back cover of Bayly's novel, the publisher indicates that La noche es virgen consolidates the young Peruvian writer's reputation as one of Latin America's foremost new voices. Indeed it does. It also establishes , I would add, Editorial Anagrama and its sponsored Herralde Prize for fiction as one of the richest and most interesting new platforms in the Hispanic narrative world. Bayly's La noche es virgen marks the fifteenth year of the Herralde Prize. Voices as significant as those of Adelaida GarcÃ-aMorales , Javier MarÃ-as, Félix de Azúa or Paloma DÃ-az-Mas, among others , have previously been awarded a prize that clearly launched them into international literary recognition. Interestingly enough, the international flavor of its pop culture contents is central to Bayly's text. And yet, his narrative voices are highly idiolectal. In this sense, Bayly not only becomes a leading Latinamerican author but also a clear example of a Peruvian literary tradition which has always shown a particular strength in textually recreating local and/or marginal oral idioms. Arguedas' Los rÃ-os profundos or Vargas Llosas La ciudad y ks perros may be recalled as two clear, albeit almost opposite, illustrations ofthat tradition. In Bayly's case, moreover, as suggested also by the publisher's note, the oral idioms, the underground jargon and the idiolectal social markers stand out not only as the language of the novel but also as its true protagonist. Or, to put it differently, Gabriel Barrios, the young TV anchor who narrates the story, seems to be embodied in and by his language. From this perspective, Bayly's novel continues the postmodern gesture of the "self-begotten" texts. There is, however, a very interesting double articulation of irony and narcissism that is peculiar to this novel. Perhaps the clearest instance ofthat narrative double take may be seen in the constant, and constantly contradictory references to Lima, Peru's capital city and true co-protagonist of Bayly's text: "... siempre pienso en matarme, no parece una mala idea, especialmente si eres coquero y maricón y para colmo de males te tocó vivir en una ciudad como Lima.' (I always think of killing myself. It doesn't seem like a bad idea, specially if you're gay and like cocaine and to top it all your lot is to live in a city like Lima.) (89) Arizona Journal of Hispanic Cultural Studies 279 '... (qué rico era salir de la televisión y manejar a toda velocidad por el zanjón y sentir que toda lima estaba durmiendo y que yo podÃ-a correr a ciento cuarenta feliz porque si me paraba un policÃ-a no me iba a decir nada y encima me iba a pedir un autógrafo para su señora esposa).' (How wondeful it was to leave the TV station and drive real fast through the city beltway and to feel that all Lima was sleeping and that I could speed up to one hundred and forty totally happy because if a police officer were to stop me he wouldn't fine me at all and, moreover, he was going to ask for my autograph for his lady wife. (112) Lima is both the impossible space and the perfect habitat for Gabriel Barrios, the slender petitbourgeoise from Miraflores who becomes Bayly's narrative vehicle to construct one of the most refreshing and unabashed celebrations of homosexuality in contemporary Hispanic fiction. Barrios ' split personality and sexuality allow Bayly to articulate his double discourse of social criticism and urban hedonism. This constitutes the best and the worst of the novel. To put it bluntly, Bayly's text is so narcissistic that its irony appears to be ultimately self-serving. And yet, as the two quotations indicate, the social and personal contradictions are embedded in the text. Like his protagonist's love fot speeding, Bayly achieves a truly remarkable narrative trip. The reader is thrust into the narrative as an accomplice, a close witness who shares the actions, the thoughts and the dialogs of the protagonist to such an extent...