On Eduardo Mendicutti's El ángel descuidado (The Careless Angel)
One can find in Mendicutti's work
some usual clichés in gay fiction. First of all, the romantic couple: Rafael
Lacave and Nicolás Camacho represent the stereotyped gay lovers. Rafael is the smart,
high-class, sensitive, imaginative, and effeminate half; Nicolás, the tough,
low-class, manly, and sexy one. God also gifted him with a big fat-sized penis--the
icing of this ultra-macho (beef)cake of desire--Besides, the environment they
live in is none other than a religious congregation. The pattern of homosexual
relationships in a deep Christian atmosphere has been discussed many times and
can be found in other works of fiction or films (i.e., Pedro Almodóvar's Bad Education or C. Jay Cox’s Latter Days).
These two young novitiates
will experience the sprout of sexuality in 1965, in a place where clandestine
sex intercourse is punished despite frequently-occurring masturbation between
fellows under their robes.
His main protagonist, Rafael,
is portrayed as a man with artistic inclinations, both in music and, especially,
in literature (his praised paragraphs for the Congregation common journal as
early lights of his talent). The fact that 35 years later Rafael is a celebrity
well known for his television appearances suggests that Rafael may
be an alter ego of Mendicutti himself. (Another evidence that could hint at this
coincidence is the foreign air of both Lacave and Mendicutti surnames for
Spanish-speaking readers.) Anyway, do not assume Rafael is presented as a mature
boy. He even develops a childish fantasy, considering several stage names for him
and Nicolás in their probable (at least for him) brilliant, smashing acting
careers on Broadway after leaving the Congregation.
Perhaps the most attractive
aspect of the novel in my extremely subjective, personal opinion is not so much
in the resolution of the love story itself (something the none-but-either-happy-or-tragic
ending fans will find so disappointing), but the importance of sexuality in self-construction
not only as individual, but also as an artist. It could be said that the sentimental
relationship Rafael maintains with Nicolás will mark his education in much more
than sentimental terms. The moment Rafael starts to take aware of his sexuality
he will deviate from the Congregation rules. This is obvious in moments like
the music competition, where Rafael will execute a passionate performance resulting
in the hilarity of fellow novitiates and the indignation of the jury, who will
refuse to judge; or the time when the brothers are proposed to vote in the
question of keeping their baptismal name within the Congregation, when up to
that time it used to be changed: Everyone will vote for or against... less
Rafael, who refuses to vote. Moreover, before this voting, Rafael’s invention
of Leafar (his name spelled
backwards), the careless angel,[1]
is an evidence of both his creativity and nonconformity: the choice of a name
impossible anyone else can select, as well as the reaffirmation of his
self--by the use of his own name anyhow--proves Rafael does not want to give
up with his individuality.
Then not so much his breaking
with the chastity vow but the obedience vow will cause his expulsion. It was just
clear that Rafael was not made for becoming the perfect missionary.
The ending, a completely naked
Rafael looking at his reflection for the first time (mirrors were prohibited in
the Congregation), secluded in the toilets of the train that takes him back
home, means not only an act of sexual awareness, but also an ultimate affirmation
of his self, his individuality, his freedom to do whatever he wants.
But all that happened in 1965…
Mendicutti tells their story in two periods. The present time is 2000. A new millennium.
A new age. Rafael is no longer in the Congregation, where monitored permanently
by elder brothers, but in a friendly, urbanite atmosphere, with places expressly
designed so that gay men can meet and have fun freely. In one of those clubs
Rafael will meet Vicente--I find very interesting (and amusing) this character.
Vicente is a little younger
than Rafael and Nicolás and from the same place than the latter. He will give
news of Nicolás’s whereabouts to a cold-but-curious Rafael 35 years later.
Vicente is presented as an aged, small-town man, occasionally spending a few weekends
a year in the capital of Spain to meet men. He is quite naive and somewhat
nosy, as one can see in his talks with alternately Rafael and Nicolás, shamelessly
intrigued about their past love story and the state of things in the present.
His tactlessness is embarrassingly proved when he tells Rafael that Nicolás
refers to him as a faggot.
It must be borne in mind when
reading the novel that the story is told from the point of view of Rafael, thus
his way of portraying Nicolás, especially in 2000, can make us think it is
quite biased. To Rafael, it is clear that Nicolás is a closeted gay, married (though
childless) to an ugly woman in order to follow the social conventions. However,
we can see in his intimate exposure to Vicente that Nicolás speaks openly and unaffectedly
about that experience, only presenting the situation as something easy to
understand since the same kind of things
happens between men in prisons in the absence of the opposite sex. When
big-mouth Vicente reveals Nicolás’s version of their story, Rafael does not
give any credit to this explanation, as he remembers the moment Nicolás promised,
35 years ago, that he would never ever love anyone as much as he did to Rafael.
No wonder Rafael prefers to live with the memory of such a romantic vow--but
the reader can also believe (why not?) in Nicolás's words.
Another possibility: Nicolás might
also be bisexual, as he had proposed Rafael to marry each other's sisters in
order to be together for ever... In any case, the interest he showed to
Rafael's family fortune suggests Nicolás happens to be a self-interested rather
than hasty, infatuated young boy. (35 years later, Nicolás has become the
richest self-made man in his humble town). Ambiguity in such a delicate issue is
achieved thanks to the elegant, precise sobriety of Mendicutti’s style all
along this bittersweet narration.
[1] That kind of proverb Rafael makes up
about a third angel of Sodom who carelessly
preferred to go with the Sodomites instead of assisting Lot and his family (another
case of Rafael’s creativity displayed).
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