Benito Lynch: A Realistic Portrait of The Gaucho and The Pampas

Chapter
Benito Lynch: A Realistic Portrait of the Gaucho and the

Pampas
The narratives of Benito Lynch (1880–1951) depict the changes in the Argentine countryside at
the beginning of the twentieth century. At this point in the history of Argentina the gaucho has
become the modern worker in La vuelta de Martín Fierro, but without the exemplarity
anticipated by the poem. The pampas are divided into lots and are worked by immigrants.
Lynch offers multiple combinations of positive and negative angles in his descriptions of
gauchos and foreigners. His attempt to paint a realistic portrait of the new social configuration
in the pampas challenges the self/other binary that characterizes portrayals of the gaucho and
the foreigner in the pedagogical models. This is true for the gauchesque genre and later
renditions of rural life in theatrical performances in the city.
The first three sections of this chapter discuss Lynch’s portrayals of the gaucho, the
immigrant, and nature. These portrayals blur the distinction between foreign and native as
opposite aspects of the nation’s self-image. Nevertheless, the main elements of the national
glossary in most of Lynch’s narratives still maintain a degree of cultural representativity. In the
last section of this chapter I discuss his novel El inglés de los güesos. In this novel, Lynch’s
unique use of language challenges the cultural representativity of elements usually connected to
native and foreign cultures thanks to the glossary effect produced by humorous dialogues
between the gauchos and their English visitor, which require constant clarifications and
explanations of each other’s cultures.
Even though Lynch’s family origins are foreign, his paternal ancestors were Argentines of
many generations. His paternal ancestors arrived in Argentina during the eighteenth century.
The first member of his family to set foot in Argentina was the Irishman Patricio Lynch, the
author’s greatgreat-grandfather. Many of his descendants participated in the making of the
Copyright © 2010. Lexington Books. All rights reserved.
Argentine nation, both in politics and in the army. His mother belonged to an affluent family of
landowners of French descent in Uruguay. While there is some confusion regarding whether the
author’s actual place of birth was Argentina or Uruguay, there is stronger evidence that he was
born in Buenos Aires.1 In any case, Lynch was brought up in the Argentine and Uruguayan
upper classes.
Lynch spent his first eight years in the countryside on his family-owned estancia, named
“El Deseado,” in Bolívar, in the province of Buenos Aires. He continued to visit the estancias
of his friends and relatives in Argentina and Uruguay, although he never traveled much (Petit
de Murat 6). In 1890 his family moved to La Plata in the province of Buenos Aires,2 where
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Lynch spent the rest of his life, mostly as a recluse. He remained in the shadows of intellectual
life in the city of Buenos Aires. Benito Lynch excluded himself from his contemporaries by
shunning their debates and social events. Petit de Murat documents Lynch’s refusal of his
nomination to the Argentine Academy of Letters, and of a Doctor Honoris Causa diploma
granted to him by the Universidad Nacional de La Plata. Lynch also refused to appear at the
openings of the theatrical and film premieres of his most famous novels.3 His social life was
limited to his job as a journalist at the El Día newspaper (in which he owned shares) and his
attendance at the La Plata Jockey Club. Most of his critics were puzzled by his reclusiveness;
many of them went to try to meet him in La Plata (Urraza 127).
Although his fiction generated vast commentary, his writings seem to have incited little
critical analysis. With few exceptions,4 the vast body of criticism that Lynch’s work has
provoked deals with questions about his biography. His critics often summarize his novels and
short stories and sometimes comment on their quality. There is a consensus that his fiction
depicting the countryside is superior to his stories that are set in the city.5 Critics also focus on
Lynch’s skill at portraying the typical characters of the Argentine countryside: the gauchos or
peasants and their vernacular.6
In an interview with Arturo Torres Rioseco, Lynch admitted to being as comfortable
writing in gauchesque speech as in Castilian Spanish. When commenting on other authors who
also wrote fiction using vernacular speech, the critic says: “Lynch me hizo notar ciertos giros y
vocablos que un gaucho auténtico no usaría jamás” (Grandes novelistas 154). This comment
reflects Borges’s opinion of the gauchesque genre that, being the product of intellectual city
dwellers, forces the gauchesque speech in the wrong places.7 The critic Torres Rioseco
describes Lynch’s portrayal of the gaucho and his culture as detailed, genuine, and realistic. He
sees in Lynch’s writing an effort to “save” this disappearing culture as a result of the arrival of
the immigrant laborer.
As mentioned earlier, giving a genuine depiction of the gaucho’s way of speaking was an
important factor in the debates around his canonization. Lugones’s reading of Martín Fierro
applauds “aquella libertad del gran jinete pampeano, rimada en octosílabos naturales como el
trote dos veces cuádruple del corcel” (174) as Hernández’s authentic portrayal of vernacular
speech. Lynch’s concern in rendering an authentic version of the gauchesque speech can be
associated with a nationalist portrayal of the gaucho. However, his narrative is not
nationalistic. Lynch generally aspires to achieve a realistic portrayal of his characters through
the use of language, but his literature does not appropriate the voice of the gaucho in order to
proclaim national identity. Moreover, the lighthearted creation of the Anglo-gauchesque

linguistic concoction in El inglés de los güesos shows that he was not as concerned with
distinguishing what was Argentine from immigrant foreign cultures as Ramos Mejía, Rojas,
Lugones, and Hernández were.
THE GAUCHO IN LYNCH’S OEUVRE
Lynch’s portrayal of the gaucho figure and of the Argentine countryside reveals this author’s
place vis-à-vis the nationalistic aspect of the gauchesque genre. The gaucho in his works has
been domesticated. David Viñas observes that Lynch’s gaucho is affected by the “progress”
promoted by President Roca, with the allotment of land and the arrival of the European
immigrant worker. As a result, the gauchos lost their nomadism and adapted to the problems
inherent in the hierarchical order of the community-based lifestyle8 (“Benito Lynch” 17). He
concludes that the demarcated pampas in Lynch’s world are: “la realización que del ‘Facundo’
hizo el roquismo: immigración, más conquista del desierto, pero sin la división racional de
esa tierra ganada, sumisa. Sin la reforma agraria” (“Benito Lynch” 21). A direct result of the
socio-historical changes in the Argentine countryside is that the gaucho loses the “heroic traits”
that had been associated with his independent lifestyle.9
Lynch undoes Lugones’s grandiose construction of a national hero upon the gauchos’ ashes;
that is, when they had ceased to be a threat to the landowners’ interests. He chronicles the
moment in the history of the gaucho when his presence in the Argentine countryside is
disappearing.10 The gaucho’s anarchic individualism has been replaced by the subordination of
the peasant to the city dweller who owns the estancia.11 For example, in Raquela (1918), the
main character claims: “soy menos que un gaucho, porque soy un pión” (105).
In this novel the gaucho is portrayed as a low-paid laborer, or peon, but it is also a role the
landowner chooses to play in order to disguise his identity. Marcelo de Montenegro, the son of
a landowner, pretends to be one of the gaucho-peons that work in his estancia as he seduces a
young woman named Raquela. She falls in love with him because of his courage in saving her
life and because of his sensitivity, but Raquela cannot help rejecting Marcelo’s apparently
lower class status. When she expresses doubts that Marcelo truly is a gaucho, he sticks to his
pretense, even though he is infatuated with her. This tension maintains the humorous tone of the
novel.
Marcelo knows the rules of the countryside well, and he respects the gauchesque code of
honor. In fact, the gaucho characters constantly marvel at how well this landowner’s son
handles rural tasks. Nonetheless, he is still just pretending, and that undermines any
exemplarity that during the beginning of the twentieth century could be associated with the
exaltation of his learned gaucho traits thanks to the canonization of the gaucho figure. Raquela
does not introduce the gaucho lifestyle in a pedagogical manner as Don Segundo Sombra does;
in Raquela the gauchesque skills are presented as an asset for the landowner’s son, but the
speech and good manners of his upper-class upbringing are just as admirable. In addition, the
majority of the gauchos in this novel are manual laborers. Yet, these gauchos are still presented
as typical characters that embody the cultural representativity of Argentina.

The section that follows includes brief examples from Lynch’s rural narratives that are
relevant for our discussion. A thorough textual analysis of each text would distract from the
argument, but complete bibliographical information is provided for the readers who may be
interested in learning more about these texts.
It is important to note that even though in Lynch’s fiction most gauchos are either peasants12
or peons, some resemble the national icon. In those cases the author insists that these are the
last relics of a golden age in the Argentine countryside. For example, in “Pedro Amoy y su
perro” from Cuentos camperos, the narrator says:
Por más que se haya convenido en la absoluta desaparición del gaucho, Pedro Amoy, peón de campo de la Estancia
Chica, es un gaucho, tan gaucho como lo fueron, su padre, su abuelo y su bisabuelo y por tanto con los mismos defectos
y virtudes. (Cuentos camperos 17)
In this passage, where there is an evident exaltation of the gaucho tradition as a solid body of
values inherited through the generations, the narrator points out that there are both virtues and
defects in this culture, and it is therefore not a stable or authentic cultural category.
The short story “El hombrecito” shows some of the virtues that Lynch sees in the gaucho
tradition. Lynch describes a horse tamer who, despite his small physique, is an admired man of
principle. He is respected not only for his skills and knowledge about horses, but also because
he is offended when offered a tip by a loud city dweller who is ignorant of the rural social
code (Cuentos camperos 71). Lynch’s description of the gaucho baqueano hired to guide a
rich city dweller in the story “El talerazo” in Cuentos camperos could be an example of the
defects of the gaucho tradition as Lynch puts it in the short story “Pedro Amoy y su perro.” The
gaucho tries to kill him from behind in order to rob him. Therefore, even though there are
moments in these short stories that celebrate versions of the gaucho that can be linked to
Lugones’s construction of the national myth, most gauchos in Lynch’s rural narratives are not
idealized.
Since Lynch’s gaucho resembles the historic figure in transition to becoming a peasant, this
version cannot represent “authentic” national traits. This version of the gaucho questions the
pedagogical discourse of La vuelta de Martín Fierro.13 Lynch’s gauchos are modern workers,
they are representative of the culture of Argentina, but they are not exemplary. Their respect for
the law of the state is not the result of a change of heart, as it is for the “repentant” Martín
Fierro after his dreadful experience as a captive in Indian territory. Lynch’s gauchos have not
been tamed by adversity; they have accepted the law and the new economic system out of sheer
necessity.14 They are generally law-abiding, and they are presented as typically Argentine; but
they do not lecture on the principles of Argentine citizenship.
As Viñas suggests, the changes in the land ownership system are at the center of Lynch’s
depiction of the gaucho. In El inglés de los güesos, there is criticism of this system implied in
the following passage:
En el “puesto”de “La Indiana” vivía una honesta y humilde familia, que trabajaba para un amo que se llamaba “The
West Company, y en el otro, en el de “La Estaca,” otra familia también humilde y honesta, que trabajaba, a su vez, para
otro amo, un señor metropolitano que se sorbía la vida y que se llamaba don X. (El inglés 61–62)
The narrator presents a foreign company and an urban landowner as equally unjust in their
treatment of their peasants. The choice of the term amo—master—implies that the power these
entities exert over the peasants resembles that of the slaveowner over the slave.
In the cited passage Lynch is hinting at an issue that is crucial to Don Segundo Sombra:
Güiraldes’ criticism of the urban estanciero who is not personally involved with the land. But
even though in this passage the landowner is criticized, he is not a main figure in El inglés de
los güesos, and the Argentine socioeconomic structure is not directly challenged in Lynch’s
works. This description of the landowner is part of his attempt to render a realistic portrayal of
the everyday life of gauchos, immigrants, and foreign travelers in the Argentine countryside.
THE IMMIGRANT IN LYNCH’S OEUVRE
Viñas makes the arrival of the immigrant worker to the countryside a major factor in changing
the gaucho’s traditional lifestyle. Immigrant workers appear in Lynch’s fiction as foreign
peons, puesteros, pulperos, shoemakers, and estancia employees. Lynch does not develop
these characters much in El inglés de los güesos, but they do have important roles in some of
his short stories. In keeping with Lynch’s interest in reproducing his characters’ form of speech
as realistically as possible, most of these texts depict the immigrants’ manner of speaking as a
combination of Spanish, gauchesque speech, and some stories also include elements of their
native tongue.
“El nene”15 is the story of Santina, whose poor Italian immigrant parents send her to work
for a wealthier Italian family in the Argentine countryside. Lynch only uses Italianized
gauchesque speech when quoting the adults (her employers and her father). The choice of plain
Castilian Spanish to speak from Santina’s perspective makes the story easier to read, but it is
harder to remember that she is the daughter of Italian immigrants. It can also be read as a
portrayal of her assimilation into mainstream culture.
In this story there is a comment on the progress of the immigrants in the Argentine
countryside. A gaucho tells Don Pancho, the estancia owner, that the son of a Basque immigrant
became a doctor and reflects: “¿Por qué todos los hijos de pobres que se van de acá hacen
carrera y no vuelven más mientras que todos los hijos de ricos que he conocido, que se vienen
de la ciudad para acá, no vuelven a dirse nunca y se echan a perder casi siempre?” (126)
When the gaucho refers to “the poor,” he is referring to the newly arrived immigrants, and
when he refers to “the rich,” he means the children of the landowners. This quote shows that
gauchos felt threatened by the newcomers’ lifestyle in a rural setting that was changing due to
economic progress and modernization. Gerald
L. Head commented on the natives’ negative perceptions of the immigrants, keeping the
self/other binarism that is typical of the study of the foreigner in criollista literature. The
foreigner’s ignorance toward the rural codes is not really a cause for resentment on the part of
the gauchos. However, the newcomers’ diligence, ambition, and avarice are. The foreigner’s
diligence toward working the land allows him to prosper, leaving the criollo behind.16
“El nene” is the only story by Benito Lynch where all the characters in the Argentine
countryside are immigrants, but there are other stories where gringos have leading roles.17
One of the distinctive traits of this author is that he depicts gauchos and foreigners from
different viewpoints and through both positive and negative lenses. Los caranchos de la
Florida, one of Lynch’s most famous novels, contains some commonplace prejudices against
immigrants in the countryside. There is the expression of “getting lost like a
Benito Lynch: A Realistic Portrait of the Gaucho and the Pampas gringo” (67), a usurer
pulpero from Spain (78), and a reference to the gringos as stingy (94). In contrast, the
schoolteacher refers with admiration to some well-known contributions of the European
immigrants: planting trees and growing gardens on the bare plains of Argentina (146).
The conflict between gauchos and immigrants is most evident in Lynch’s El romance de un
gaucho. Head focuses on the personal ambition of a Spanish pulpero who looks down on lazy
criollos and boasts about his wealth as a result of his hard work:
Se vino con una mano atrá y otra adelante, como quien dice; sufrió, penó, agachó el lomo a todos los trabajos, sin
hacerle asco a ninguno, y ahura, a los treinta, aunque no podía decirse rico, ya se había dao el gusto de acomodar a
todita su familia allá en su tierra. A los viejos les habían hecho levantar una casa pa ellos solos que, asigún decían, era lo
mejor del pueblo. (340)
Head’s observation is true, but at a very marginal level; he is focusing on a rather

inconspicuous character in that novel. He concludes that the inclusion of the criollos’
xenophobic comments is needed to achieve the realism that is characteristic of Lynch’s prose. I
think that the tension between the foreigner and the gaucho is a realistic but incomplete
portrayal of the coexistence of these characters in the pampas. However, Head does not give
Lynch’s depiction of both characters enough credit.18
In contrast to Head, Roberto Salama claims that Lynch’s immigrant characters are
portrayed in a positive light, that they seem to have assimilated,19 and that some of them are
even praised for being hard workers (80–83). Salama links the positive portrayal of
immigrants to the concept of assimilation, which is a questionable idea. It is also inaccurate to
refer to the immigrants in Lynch’s stories as assimilated when they are characterized with
elements of their country of origin. A good example is the short story “El nene,” in which the
immigrants mix Spanish and Italian. While I do believe that Lynch’s immigrants seem adjusted
to life in the Argentine countryside, they are far from achieving the level of assimilation that
Rojas and Ingenieros envisioned. They are not used in opposition to what is Argentine either,
as they are in Lugones’s and Hernández’s writings.
In Lynch’s rural narratives, learning the gaucho code alone does not automatically earn
these immigrants acceptance and respect by other gauchos, as is the case of the Miles brothers
in Los caranchos de la Florida. The Miles brothers are sons of an Englishman and are
described in the following manner:
apenas hablan la castilla, pero son unos paisanos por su modo de ser, por su modo de decir, por todo…. ¿Usted ve cómo
ando yo vestido, yo que soy un pobre y un hombre de trabajo? Pues, amigo, ellos andan pior que piones; andan de
alpargatas y con el chiripá roñoso, metiéndose en todas las pulperías y en todos los ranchos. ¡Si el viejo Miles levantara
la cabeza, él, que era tan estirao y tan serio!20
The gaucho narrator feels sorry for the immigrants in a brotherly manner. He points at the
curious fact that even though they do not speak the language, they have adopted some of the
local vices usually associated to the character of the “gaucho malo.” They drink at pulperías
and chase women, but they are not violent. The narrator identifies their behavior as shocking to
their late English father and that implies that these immigrants have assimilated some of the
less admirable aspects of rural life in Argentina.
This example proves that just as there are many versions of the immigrant worker, there are
also different versions of the gaucho in Lynch’s fiction. Both entities are meant to be
representative of their cultures, and yet they are free from the self/other binarism embedded in
the pedagogical models. This is a result of this author’s multi-focused perspective in his
attempt to provide a realistic portrayal of the Argentine countryside.
THE DEPICTION OF NATURE IN LYNCH’S OEUVRE
Alongside the construction of the gaucho and the immigrant, Lynch’s depiction of nature helps
to read his fiction vis-à-vis Argentine pedagogical models. Lynch’s work does not use nature to
represent the nation. The pampas—where most of his narrative takes place—had been adopted
as a nationalistic icon by the authors of the pedagogical models because they were both the
nomadic gaucho’s habitat and a topography perceived as particular to Argentina. The author of
the best-known dictionary of gauchesque language, Tito Saubidet, describes the pampas thus:
Imagen del mar de la tierra. Del quichua: plaza, campo abierto, llanura, sabana. Inmensa llanura de pocas arboledas pero
de rica vegetación, que va del sud de la ciudad de Buenos Aires y de las provincias de Santa Fé, Córdoba, San Luis y
Mendoza hasta terminar en el Río Negro. (Vocabulario 272)
Saubidet cites the gauchesque poet Hilario Ascasubi, who stated in 1850 that that the gauchos
understand the pampas as unconquered territory, where Indians run wild. In the national
imagination the pampas represent the space prior to the division of the land, where both
gauchos and Indians roamed free.
In contrast, nature in Lynch’s fiction is confined to and demarcated within the space of
estancias or puestos.21 This reflects the socio-economic changes that were taking place in the
Argentine countryside at the time of his writing. The pampas are open to progress in Lynch’s
work; they appear delimited in order to be used productively. The author’s view of the changes
that he is witnessing is explicit in “El estanciero”:
Denigrar al progreso por amor a la tradicional y noble sencillez de las viejas costumbres criollas es casi un delito de lesa
cultura y de lesa patria: pero bien se puede—al advertir cómo se van para siempre, con toda la “poesía de los antiguos
campos”—dedicarles la misma mirada melancólica con que contemplamos, tendido en el suelo, el árbol añoso que nos
vio nacer, pero cuyo sitio hace falta para construir un garage. (Quoted in Petit de Murat 135)
The fact that Lynch believed so strongly in the use of natural resources for economic progress
is one of the possible explanations for the marginal role that nature plays in his rural
narrative.22 The land is an asset to capitalize on; it is not idealized in reference to the nation.
More importantly, however, the fact that the gaucho-peasants in Lynch’s narrative do not
seem very concerned with their natural surroundings may add to the naturalization of the
national type, the gaucho figure itself. This was certainly the case in Martín Fierro.23 The
effect of naturalization that results from portraying the gaucho in the pampas as his
unquestioned environment appears in many of Lynch’s short stories and in El romance de un
gaucho. In all these narratives the gaucho is at home in the pampas; the connection between the
man and the land is taken for granted.

Nature also plays a secondary role in El inglés de los güesos. This is characteristic of
Lynch’s writing. Several critics believe that nature is a catalyst for the characters’ emotional
formation. They also say that nature is introduced to the reader through their perception.24 The
only time when nature takes center stage is when it is used to describe Gray’s realization of the
price that he needs to pay in order to carry on with his scientific mission. In the following
passage, deriving pleasure from nature is placed in opposition to the purposes of science:
Porque para él no fueron ni serían nunca esas bellas flores que en las mañanas de la existencia suelen sonreír a los que
pasan, medio ocultas en los matorrales de las laderas o columpiándose al borde de los abismos; porque para él no fueron
ni serían nunca esos hermosos valles de color de esmeralda que, convidando al retozo, se divisan desde la altura como
gemas enormes engastadas en el gris elefante de la montaña. (197–198) .
This passage goes on to glorify waterfalls, streams, precipices, forests, birds, and flowers that
Gray cannot enjoy because he is struggling with the decision of remaining in Argentina to enjoy
life with his new love, Balbina, or returning to England where he is being called to continue
his academic career. Nature is used here to express the inner workings of the character; but it
also distinguishes the pleasures of observation from the naturalist’s task.
Torres-Rioseco explains that Lynch admitted that his reading of Charles Darwin and
Alexander von Humboldt, among other European travel writers, inspired his writing of El
inglés de los güesos,25 and Felipe Navarro suggests that Lynch’s narratives shared
characteristics with Darwin’s descriptions of nature.26 It is true that Lynch read Darwin—as is
evident in his reference to the famous scientist’s embarrassing episode with the boleadoras in
Uruguay, narrated in The Voyage of the Beagle27 (Cuentos camperos 159)—but there is little
resemblance between their descriptions of nature. 28 Darwin recorded the impact that nature
had on him as an introduction to placing the element within the system in the naturalist fashion,
as in the following example:
I continued to slowly advance for an hour along the broken and rocky banks; and was amply repaid by the grandeur of
the scene. The gloomy depth of the ravine well accorded with the universal signs of violence. On every side were lying
irregular masses of rock and up-torn trees…. I followed the water-course till I came to a spot where a great slip had
cleared a straight space down the mountainside…. The trees all belong to one kind, the fagus betuloides, for the
number of the other species of beech, and of the winter’s bark is quite inconsiderable. This tree keeps its leaves
throughout the year; but its foliage is of a peculiar brownishgreen colour, with a tinge of yellow. (Voyage of the Beagle
175)
The reader can perceive Darwin’s initial sense of gloom as he travels through the dark and
damp part of the forest, and his relief when he arrives to the opening where these trees are
located. The impact nature has on him is followed by an encyclopedic entry of a tree of the
fagus betuloides family. This shift is typical of his writing. Darwin’s description of the gloomy
part of the forest he first encounters sets the reader up to appreciate this tree as beautiful by
contrast. Nature’s inner workings is the main goal of Darwin’s narrative; this is not the case for
Lynch’s narratives.
In Lynch’s El inglés de los güesos, James Gray’s knowledge of naturalism is manifested in
the scientific naming of insects and animals, but also serves the purpose of differentiating
native from foreign knowledge. For example, speaking about a beetle, the narrator says:
Un ‘candado’ o ‘Torito’ para Bartolo, pero para él, Diloboderus abderus, de la clase de insectos, del orden de los
coleópteros, suborden de los pentámeros y grupo de los lamelicornios—, uno de esos pobres ‘candados’ o ‘toritos’ a los
cuales la cruel voracidad de las hormigas suele vivisecar al extremo de que, despojados por completo de sus órganos
ventrales, quedan convertidos en fúnebres cáscaras que andan, se le antojó un símbolo de la espantosa vacuidad de su
espíritu, de lo que sería sin el amor de La Negra su desolada existencia en lo futuro. (273–274)
Gray does not mention the beetle within the natural system out of scientific concern. The aim of
the quotation is to compare the destiny of the beetles, whose bodies are very often emptied out
by ants, with the way Gray predicts he will feel back in England without Balbina’s love. The
choice of the scientific nomenclature for the beetle brings attention to Gray’s profession, which
is the main reason for this love story to end unhappily. There are several instances in the novel
when scientific nomenclature is used to create misunderstandings between the foreigner and the
gauchos.
Gray is introduced as a paleontologist. The owner of the estancia later calls him a
naturalist (150), and the narrator refers to him both as an anthropologist and a naturalist (195).
The disciplinary boundaries among the sciences were less pronounced at the beginning of the
twentieth century when the novel takes place. However, the lack of definition in Gray’s
scientific title reflects this character’s task in the Argentine countryside. His paleontological
research turns out to be an ethnographical enterprise. He comes to study indigenous human
fossils in the Argentine pampas and ends up involved with the study of the culture of his
gaucho-peasant hosts. Gray’s research allows him to become closer to the gaucho-peasants,
and the novel focuses on this relationship. Very little is learned about the purpose of his
research. All that the reader knows is that Gray is searching for bones to take back to a
museum (11) and his mentor, a famous professor from Cambridge University, is devoted to
writing a “monumental” History of the Savage Men (168). Lynch does not pay much attention
to Gray’s paleontological research, and he certainly does not connect it to the Argentine nation-
state.
At the time when Lynch’s novel takes place, the majority of the Indian population in
Argentina had been annihilated. Jens Andermann says that in Viaje a la Patagonia Austral,
Francisco P. Moreno claims to be collecting bones of “viejos indígenas,” even though the
Tehuelche Indians are still present in Tierra del Fuego. Andermann calls Moreno’s attitude a
“paleontologización del Otro” in order to avoid contact with the Indians. Moreno exaggerates
about the antiquity of the bones that he is collecting and the disappearance of the indigenous
culture that is still around at the time of his journey. His purpose is to erase the uncomfortable
burden of the Indians’ presence on the path to building his own version of the nation, creating a
past devoid of their subjectivity. Turning the Indians into ancestors creates a frame for a
legitimate “Estado-nación argentino.”29 Gray’s approach to the Indians’ remains is not part of a
nation-building project. It is very little more than an excuse in the text to justify his journey to
the Argentine pampas and develop his character as a foreign scientist.
Moreover, even though Gray’s actual object of study is in the process of extinction—the
anarchic gaucho adapting to the modern estancia—the dialogue that Gray establishes with the
gauchos does not allow him to turn them into bones. His attempt to learn the gauchesque culture
shows a rather different attitude from Moreno’s toward the Tehuelche Indians. Gray becomes
more involved with the gaucho-peasants than does Hudson’s Richard Lamb, and, as we will
see, for a shorter period of time than do the Jewish immigrants that Gerchunoff depicts.
Lynch’s renditions of the gaucho, the immigrant, and nature show a very different portrayal
of the gaucho and his habitat vis-à-vis the pedagogical models. The elements of the national
glossary in these narratives do not appear idealized, and yet they maintain their cultural
representativity. This can be attributed to the matter-of-fact tone chosen by the author when
describing the gaucho, the immigrant, and nature. Yet his most famous novel, El inglés de los
güesos (1924), stands out in this regard because of Lynch’s creative and quite humorous use of
language. The glossary effect does not occur thanks to strict intra-textual gloss, as in Don
Segundo Sombra and Hudson’s narratives. In Lynch’s novel, the glossary effect is still an intra-
textual form of translation; but instead of having cultural elements literally glossed in the text,
we have the Anglo-gauchesque speech—the mix of languages that results from the humorous
attempts to communicate between a foreign visitor and his gaucho hosts. Due to the Anglo-
gauchesque speech, Gray’s relationship with the gauchos ends in a mutual contamination
between foreign and native knowledge and scientific and gauchesque codes.
EL INGLÉS DE LOS GÜESOS: CREATING AN UN-COMMON LANGUAGE
In El inglés de los güesos, Lynch portrays the interaction between a foreign scientist visiting
the Argentine countryside and the gauchos who host him. That exchange results in the creation
of the Anglo-gauchesque speech. Gauchos and foreigners combine English, Spanish, and
gauchesque speech in their effort to express themselves. This use of language does not
distinguish foreign from native registers. The contact between foreigner and natives produces
the glossary effect, for in their effort to explain gauchesque and English cultural characteristics
to each other, they throw the stability of these identity categories into question.
Furthermore, the Anglo-gauchesque speech challenges the civilization/barbarism paradigm
and the class and gender hierarchies inherent in the normative discourses that both the foreign
scientist (traveler) and the gaucho represent. This unique speech also distances Lynch from the
pedagogical models in Argentine letters (Rojas, Ramos Mejía, Lugones, and Güiraldes) and
the travel writing tradition.
The complex multilingual register sets El inglés de los güesos apart from the gauchesque
tradition. The use of language sheds light on the mechanics of the cultural exchange that takes
place between James Gray, the English paleontologist, and the gauchos of the puesto “La
Estaca,” where he is residing in the Argentine countryside. The gauchos and the scientist are
teaching each other what they perceive to be the cultural traits that distinguish them. This
interaction is the basis for the glossary effect. In Lynch’s novel, the Argentine rural imagination
is explained to clarify misunderstandings between the foreigner and the gauchos. Certain
aspects of the English culture are also translated for that purpose. Lynch seems to take for
granted that his target audience is acquainted with the Argentine countryside, the gauchesque
culture, and the English language used in his text. Nevertheless, even if the reader does not
need a translator, the characters in the novel do. The narrator intervenes to disentangle
misunderstandings that are produced by the mix of languages. He is in charge of most of the
gloss.
The natives in this novel are not the only objects of observation; the gauchos also observe
—and even make fun of—the English scientist’s appearance and ignorance of rural customs.
This exchange is what Pratt calls “reciprocal vision” (81–82). In Lynch’s novel, this
reciprocal vision includes some mutual exoticization. Unfortunately, by the end of the novel,
the hierarchical imbalance between the traveler and the native has been reestablished.
At the beginning of the novel, Bartolo, Balbina’s brother and one of the gauchos who hosts
Gray, says as he watches the foreigner arrive on a pony loaded with luggage and covered by a
big red umbrella: “¿Pero qué laya de hombre es ése?” (10). Gray is observed as an exotic
being, not only because of his red umbrella, which is an urban object entirely out of place in
the countryside, but also because of the choice of a pony instead of a horse for transportation.
The pony, an animal that is usually ridden by children, adds to his absurd image. Besides,
knowing how to ride a horse is an essential sign of pride in the gauchesque culture. Gray’s
ridiculous entrance brings to mind the stereotype in gauchesque literature of the foreigner who
does not know how to ride.30
The natives assume that James Gray is unable to understand their wit, language, and
culture. He is the target of teasing:
el mozo hizo recorrer a míster James casi todo el repertorio de las clásicas bromas gauchas, es decir: el pastel de
engaño, el mate de hojas de ombú, el “empacho” con carne de potro; picardías todas en las que colaboraba la niña y en
las que el huésped tenía que caer fatalmente, con gran diversión de La Negra, del taimado gaucho y de cuantos
tomaban conocimiento de la broma. (El inglés 22)
No one defended him but Doña Casiana, who said with a smile: “¡No me lo vayan a matar al
inglesito!” In the story, everyone perceives this as “una institución tan razonable como lo es
aquella del manteo en ciertos colegios militares” (23). The gauchos’ teasing sometimes fails: a
spider that was meant to scare the Englishman turns out to be a great discovery. He shows
everyone the “ejemplar rarísimo de Argiope argentata” that he found in his water jug (23).
The teasing game ends when Balbina agrees with Santos Telmo to heat up the metal straw or
bombilla for drinking mate. James is seriously burned, and the girl receives a public scolding
that briefly turns her against him (24).
Pratt’s concept of “reciprocal vision” is evident in Santos Telmo’s remarks to Gray: “Diga,
‘musiú,’ ¿es cierto que allá en su tierra los hombres tienen cola?” (21). Speaking from
Balbina’s perspective—who is still angry with Gray—the narrator also condemns Bartolo for
having been “bought” by the scientist with “mentiras de su tierra prometiéndole un relocito”
(27). Balbina sees this as a pathetic excuse for her brother’s affection for the foreigner. Before
she falls in love with the foreigner herself, she condemns her brother’s behavior, which
reflects the hierarchical imbalance rooted in the colonial heritage of the contact zone.31
However, the foreigner’s higher status as a scientist is established soon enough:
Pero al fin la risa tuvo que ceder su puesto a una impresión de verdadero asombro. Aquel mozo rubio, seco y largo
como una tacuara, era nada menos que un sabio … pues debía realizar importantes excavaciones de carácter científico.
(10)
For his part, Gray’s interest in learning the gauchesque culture is framed by his perception of
the gauchos as primitive and uneducated people.32 This triggers his dilemma over having fallen
in love with Balbina, a “semi-barbarous” young woman (193), and his ultimate decision to
return to England to resume his academic position. The fact that he cannot accept the idea of
including Balbina in his life confirms the limits of his personal involvement with his subjects
of study and maintains the traveler/“travelee” dichotomy of the contact zone (Pratt 7).
The exchange that occurs while Gray is in Argentina constitutes a mutual language and
cultural lesson. The scientist is the target of the natives’ ridicule because of his
“desconocimiento del idioma y de las costumbres camperas” (21). For his part, “Míster”
James makes an enormous effort to learn the gauchesque cultural code, and he shares his own
culture with them. But are they truly educating each other?
Does the fact that the lesson is mutual mean that there is a disruption of the pedagogical
discourse of the gauchesque genre due to the linguistic and cultural exchange between the
foreigner and the gauchos? Does El inglés de los güesos reinscribe the pedagogical discourse
of the rural trope in Argentine letters, where the gaucho chooses to follow the rules of the
national state and teaches the steps to becoming a model Argentine?
The title of this novel is one of the nicknames that the gauchos choose for the foreign
visitor. Bartolo teaches him the gauchesque language and “Míster Yeimes” teaches English—
and about England (134, 141)—to Balbina, or “La Negra,” the puestero’s daughter.
Communication remains broken and, at the same time, fluent, throughout the text thanks to the
narrator, who unravels the plot and explains what the characters mean. His Spanish changes
during his translating task. When the narrator is expressing his own perspective, his Spanish
resembles that of an urban Argentine; when he speaks on behalf of his characters, he sometimes
includes the character’s linguistic particularities, safely framed within quotation marks or in
italics to differentiate his own mode of expression. For example, the narrator says foot-ball
and “Babino” when he speaks from Gray’s perspective (141–142), haciendo “monitos” from
Balbina’s (142), cuando ella “dentró” from Casiana’s (127), and te daré “un golpe de
teléfono” when speaking from the estanciero’s point of view (149).
The presence of the narrator goes beyond acting as mediator to disentangle confusing
exchanges between foreigner and gauchos; he constantly speaks on his characters’ behalf. At
the same time, it is possible to separate their point of view from that of the narrator.
Insofar as he represents an urban, “civilized” perspective appropriating the voice of the
gaucho, he is reproducing the gesture of the urban authors of the gauchesque genre. Yet he
cannot reproduce the normative discourse of this genre, because he does not depict them as
exemplary. In addition, his detachment from the native characters—as it is evident in his use of
quotation marks when referring to their speech and in his remarks about their “ignorance”—
and their lifestyle contradicts the purpose of such appropriation.
A parallel argument can be made for the visiting scientist’s approach to the gauchesque
culture. His learning process is a pastime; he does not engage in cultural appropriation. But to
claim that the narrator or James Gray carried on cultural appropriation would have an entirely
different meaning. The first would bring the text closer to the nationalistic gauchesque writings,
the second to a Eurocentric imperialistic perspective that belongs to the tradition of foreign
travel writing.
This novel contains elements of both these discourses but does not quite fit either category.
The interaction between natives and foreigner in El inglés de los güesos makes this novel
unique among gauchesque and foreign travel writings of the turn of the last century. This is
because the narrator does not control the characters’ subjectivities, and the traveler is not the
only one making ethnological discoveries. In spite of the hierarchical imbalances, we gain as
much insight into the narrator’s and the foreigner’s subjectivities as into that of the gauchos.
The use of language in this novel both reflects Lynch’s original view of the foreign/native
divide and defines the social structure of the estancia. Everyone’s speech carries a mark of
social status. For example, the narrator perceives the gauchesque speech as lower class. He
says of Balbina that, judging from what she said after a long pause, that her thoughts must have
been of a “vulgaridad aplastadora” (30). He also describes Doña Casiana’s manner of
scolding Balbina as “ese argumentar monocorde de las gentes brutas” (172). Both of these
comments indicate his sense of superiority.
There is also an evident difference between the language utilized by the gauchos and the
landowner, or estanciero, who, like the narrator, belongs to a cosmopolitan urban setting. This
is implied by the narrator when he describes the landowner’s visit to the Englishman at the
puesto33: “hubo largas y urbanas explicaciones entre los dos hombres, al cabo de las cuales el
estanciero tuvo que convencerse de que el inglés de los güesos estaba allí muy bien” (156).
The depiction of the estanciero in this novel greatly differs from the one presented by
Güiraldes in Don Segundo Sombra. In Lynch’s novel, the estanciero does not try to learn rural
skills in order to become one with nature and to deserve his ownership of the land. Caillet-
Bois says that Lynch depicts a landowner who is very concerned with demonstrating that he
has not been “‘agauchado’ por dentro, aunque haya adquirido gran habilidad en las faenas del
campo.”34
Another important element of this discussion is the difference perceived by the gauchos
between the Englishman and the “gayeguito” Isidro. “Gayego” is a pejorative term used to
distinguish immigrants from Spain in Argentina. Since a large portion of the Spanish
immigrants that arrived at the end of the nineteenth century came from Galicia, the term came to
refer to all Spanish immigrants. The “y” that replaces the “ll” in “Gallego” is the Argentine
pronunciation of this consonant. The diminutive adds to the offensiveness of the term. Lynch
emphasizes his manner of speech, as is typical of his character development. The gauchos feel
sorry for Isidro and assign him minor tasks. He is a second-rate peon because he cannot ride a
horse and is always tired. Isidro, for his part, considers himself a castellano viejo and cannot
get used to the work in the countryside, as we later learn. Even though the gauchos pity him,
Isidro’s identity remains tied to Argentina’s colonial heritage. He works out of necessity but
keeps a “true Spanish” pride (212–213).
Lynch’s inclusion of the immigrant’s subjectivity is important because it is inconsistent
with the self/other binary of the gauchesque theme in Argentine literature. Isidro’s lack of
physical stamina and inability to ride horseback, however, accentuate his foreignness. He is a
newcomer who depends on the estancia salary. The estanciero and the immigrant peon
represent the two extremes of this institution’s social hierarchy, and their place within that
system exemplifies Lynch’s attempt at a realistic representation of the changes taking place in
the countryside.
The cultural exchange and learning between the foreigner and the gauchos occurs in stages.
First, the gauchos assess the foreigner’s “ignorance” of their cultural and linguistic traditions.
Next, they respond to Gray’s interest by trying to teach him their culture. Finally, Gray teaches
some English words and cultural elements to Balbina. Hierarchies certainly are present in this
exchange, but its reciprocal direction voids the possibility for cultural appropriation. Although
Gray tries to learn his hosts’ language and customs, the foreigner is the first one on the spot and
the foreigner does not idealize the gauchos.
James Gray’s intellectual credibility is weakened by his difficulties in using the natives’
language. Yet, at the same time, the gauchos do not seem to be able to differentiate poor
linguistic expression from content. For example, Balbina is perplexed at James’ mistake when
“someone who everyone believed to be so wise” asked in the most serious manner, “dónde
estaba ‘la dormitorio de las vacas’” (20). James is using descriptive approximation because
he lacks the vocabulary to do otherwise, but Balbina thinks that this is a sign of the foreigner’s
lack of intelligence. Bartolo, who loves listening to the foreigner’s broken speech, at one point
challenges his knowledge of nature. The child asks the name of a group of birds standing at the
lagoon where James is working:
-¿A ver, míster? ¿A que no sabe qué bichos son aquéllos?
-¡Aoh! Yes! Imamtopus, Imantopus … ¡Aoh! ¡Yes! Mi conoce …
-¿Cómo dice?
-Imamtopus, Imantopus brasiliensis…. ¡Yes! ¡Yes!
-¡Qué “Mantopo” ni “Mantopo,” míster! ¿No ve que no sabe? ¡Esos son teros
reales; ahí tiene, teros reales, pa que aprenda!
Y se retorcía de risa sobre el caballo, divertidísimo con la ignorancia de aquel hombre. (19–20)
Ignorance is a key word to keep in mind in the economy of mutual observation between the
foreigner and the gauchos in this novel. Speaking of Gray’s linguistic inadequacies, the
narrator later mentions the list of “pruebas de su crasa ignorancia en cuestiones de campo y del
idioma” (27) that Santos Telmo compiles in order to make Balbina laugh. But who is truly the
ignorant one here? In the case of the bird’s name, both foreigner and native have the correct
answer, only Bartolo cannot envision the possibility that the bird might belong, at the same
time, to a different system of classification. Gray uses the same scientific terminology for his
portrayal of the pampas’ natural fauna and flora as Hudson, only less extensively.
The novel exploits those instances when Gray does not understand the gauchesque
mentality for humor’s sake. But whoever does the teasing in this novel may become someone
else’s object of ridicule. In the exchange quoted above, the narrator invites the reader to laugh
at Bartolo, who is mistakenly laughing at James. Bartolo later wishes he could ask James
“cómo se llamaba a las boleadoras allá por su tierra” (161). Since the foreigner first attempts
to communicate with the natives in their language, he is the first to be criticized for his
inadequate expressions and poor rural skills, but he will not be the last. These remarks recur
until the end of the novel where everyone comments on Míster James’ inability to braid a lasso
(296–297). Most characters who participate in the learning process correct, are corrected, and
are surprised at the other’s ignorance. The mutual lessons in this novel do not go very
smoothly, but are quite amusing.

On the surface, this text does not seem to inscribe the cultural imperialism expected from
the presence of a foreign scientist in the Argentine countryside; while it is true that the gauchos
perceive the foreigner as exotic and tease him for his broken Spanish, these first interactions
also reinforce the imbalanced hierarchical economy of the contact zone. The narrator’s tongue-
in-cheek exposure of the native’s narrow-mindedness implies the foreign traveler’s superior
intellectual capabilities in his attempts to learn the rural culture.
James Gray’s first impression of the gauchesque culture is similar to the one that the
gauchos have of him. Both sides see the other as exotic. But as much as the gauchos laughing at
Gray’s awkwardness seems to reverse the traveler/travelee paradigm of the contact zone, the
following passage reestablishes the traveler’s imperial gaze:
Activo y contento iba y venía, observándolo todo, interesándose por todas las cosas camperas y aun queriendo ensayar
algunas; tanto era así, que bajo la dirección chacotona de Don Juan, trenzador habilísimo, se había puesto a confeccionar
un lazo “de ocho tientos” que se proponía llevar a su tierra para obsequiar a un amigo. (26)
His interest in learning his host’s culture makes him a friendly visitor but still an outsider who
is passing by, planning to bring home a souvenir.
In spite of Gray’s poor control of the language and gauchesque skills and having been
mocked at the beginning of the novel for his awkwardness in regard to the local culture, the
gauchos still assume that he has a superior intellect. James’s scientific knowledge and
respectability are reestablished when he “cures” Balbina’s earache with an ointment from his
first aid kit (74). He also tries to share his knowledge of science in his broken Spanish with the
native gauchos (26). James ends up being admired even by Doña Casiana, who at one point
expects what the narrator calls “algún consejo oportuno de aquel sabio tan grande” (65). When
the need comes for a person to read Balbina the letter that she received from her admirer
Santos Telmo, she defers to James Gray—the only non-native speaker of Spanish—because he
is the most learned person at the puesto. Nevertheless, while Gray is trying to decipher the
letter, Balbina starts to doubt his intellectual abilities because he is not reading aloud, which is
the way that she reads with her brother Bartolo (99–101). This scene exposes her inadequate
literacy. It also indicates that she does not understand the effort it entails to read in a foreign
language. The narrator highlights what he considers to be her ignorance.
A mutual lesson—part of the reciprocal vision between traveler and travelee that exists in
this novel—takes place in this scene: Balbina does not understand that the book that James is
consulting is a dictionary—she thinks that he is trying to learn how to read. When Gray cannot
find the word in the dictionary, he asks her: “Comi se llama cuando il hombro va ariba de la
caballa, con otra hombro ariba del cola?” (101) “¡En ancas, míster! … Se dice dir ‘en ancas’”
(102), responds Balbina. The expression cannot be found in a common Spanish-English
dictionary because it belongs to the oral tradition of rural speech.
The narrator calls Gray’s attempt at understanding Santos Telmo’s letter a translation (104,
106). This translation has several layers. Besides bridging national and regional languages, it
intertwines urban and rural registers. First, he is an English-speaker trying to decipher a letter
written in Argentine Spanish with gauchesque regionalisms. Second, he is translating
gauchesque cultural practices to his own “civilized” (urban) code in order to decide if the
contents of the letter are appropriate for Balbina. When he explains to her that she was not
supposed to ask him to read to her the content of that letter because it is a private matter
between her and Santos Telmo, he translates for Balbina the rules that should be followed by a
“lady” in his own cultural domain (110–111). These cultural translations display the complex
mechanisms that produce the glossary effect in El inglés de los güesos. Lynch’s textual
strategies are more opaque than Hudson’s translations from the Argentine and Uruguayan rural
code to the English language.
The mechanics of the glossary effect in El inglés de los güesos become more evident when
Gray translates other aspects of his culture to Balbina. He describes his “clouded” city
(London) to her and how his sister plays soccer, among other things (141). When she asks
about the woman in the picture at his table, he explains that she is a music hall performer.
Balbina wants to know why she appears naked, to which James replies: “Ella no está todo
desnudo, Babino; ella está vestido de fieste, vestido de paquete. ¿Mi comprende? Sinioritas
visten así per la fieste.” The narrator then interjects: “Este le preguntó, entre paternal y burlón:
‘Osté no vió eso nunca, Babino?’” (103). This highly charged exchange represents a gloss that
translates a cultural and moral concept from Gray’s English/urban experience to Balbina’s
gauchesque/rural code.
“Míster” James learns a gauchesque idiom and Balbina a lesson about lifestyle in the
metropolis. But despite the reciprocity in this intellectual exchange, Gray’s paternalistic tone
recalls the hierarchical imbalance of the contact zone. This imbalance is even more evident at
the beginning of the novel when, after Balbina’s refusal to offer Gray tortas fritas, James
responds to her mother’s apologies: “Mí comprende … ‘Babino’ no tiene educación” (36).
The fact that Gray perceives her as limited by her circumstance as a poor and uneducated
gaucho woman establishes a status disparity. This reciprocal lesson certainly maintains gender
hierarchies. Throughout the novel, Gray mostly learns from men (Bartolo, Don Juan), while he
only teaches a woman (Balbina). Although he learns a recipe from Doña Casiana,
acknowledging her mastery over food does not challenge patriarchal gender dynamics.
Within the economy of the contact zone, Balbina represents the ideal native and woman
because her charm depends on the limits to her formal education. But to educate her is not one
of Gray’s priorities—his comments on British manners and culture do not count as formal
education. When he decides to go back to England, Balbina wonders: “¿Cómo se acordaba de
que estaba tan apurao por dirse cuando le ofrecía enseñarle pa cuando se sanase aquella punta
e cosas que no podían aprenderse sino en una punta de años?” (176) If the cultural exchange
and love affair between James and Balbina are intertwined, they are also deeply rooted in
patriarchal hierarchies.
Gray’s lessons in British culture and manners might preserve the social hierarchies needed
for the estancia’s economy, but Lynch does not present it as the only form of instruction. Life in
the countryside teaches common sense, a highly regarded skill in gauchesque culture. The
gaucho child Bartolo comments on everyone’s overreaction to Balbina going crazy because
James is leaving at the end of the novel. Bartolo describes himself as “un bruto porque nunca
pudo aprender nada en la escuela; pero le parecía que en la ocasión era el único que pensaba
‘como la gente’” (260).
Reciprocal teaching, therefore, does not necessarily mean equal standing. While traditional
identity binaries are incorporated at the plot level in this text—man/woman,
civilization/barbarism (James-Balbina), foreign/native (James-Balbina and Bartolo), the
inclusion/exclusion dichotomy of the gauchesque genre (gauchos-Isidro)—the Anglo-
gauchesque speech disrupts these hierarchical binaries. Moreover, El inglés de los güesos
avoids strategies of appropriation traditionally associated with these hierarchical binaries by
letting the foreigner be exoticized by the gauchos and the gauchos be lessthan-model
Argentines.
An important part of the dialogue in this novel consists of the characters’ explanation of the
“accurate” use of language. They also share elements of their cultural backgrounds. A good
example is when Bartolo teaches James the correct way of naming a traditional Argentine
pastry: “¡‘Totes’ no, míster ‘Yemes’! ¡tortas!, tortas fri-tas!, ¡fri-tas! … ¿A que no sabe
últimamente lo que son tortas fritas?” James answers: “Tote fite is the bread …” and to
Bartolo’s further enquiry: “¿De qué?” “ … the … the pan … ¡pan!” (32) says the foreigner, and
the child laughs at the answer.
Bartolo’s lesson consists in testing Gray’s knowledge of his rural culture. The child shows
as much interest in the foreigner’s pronunciation of the term as in his understanding of the
meaning. To Gray’s “mistake” or approximation, Doña Casiana patiently explains: “El pan se
cuece en el horno, ¿sabe?, y la torta se frai en la sartén …” and the narrator adds: “Y la buena
mujer se engolfó en seguida en una larga disertación, que míster James siguió atentamente, con
sus ojos azules muy abiertos” (32). Bartolo’s language lesson turns into Casiana’s cultural
lecture.
At the intervention of Bartolo’s father, James admits that he enjoys this type of exchange
with the child: “Mi gusta conversa, mi gusta ‘chacuto’ cun ‘Bertolo’” (31). Gray says chacuto
instead of chacota, which means to take things lightly or to be kidding around in regional
speech.35 This “playful” pedagogical exchange resembles Hudson’s approach to the glossary
effect, achieved through translation of the gauchesque code to his English-speaking readers.
Because, although gauchesque terms are not spelled out in El inglés de los güesos, the words
chosen are assumed to be representative of regional particularity—terms like torta frita are
used to test the foreigner’s knowledge of the gauchesque culture. But, while in Hudson’s
translation it is possible to speak of an original and a translated version, where both stand out
awkwardly in the text, Lynch’s Anglo-gauchesque speech is a mix of languages and cultural
codes that complicates the relationship between terms and translations.
The glossary effect in Lynch’s novel is produced by guessing games (Bartolo) and by long
explanations (Doña Casiana), or is implied in the use of terms in context by rough
approximation (Gray). In general, there is less need for translation in this novel because, unlike
Hudson, Lynch’s reader is expected to be familiar with Argentine urban and rural cultures as
well as with some English language. Besides, the inaccuracies that result from these
translations are an amusing aspect of this novel.
At the same time, this cultural exchange resembles Hudson’s mode of translation in that the
attempted definitions or glosses also contain the potential of de-canonizing the gaucho theme
and the English language, as the original version representative of Argentine identity and of the
imperial scientific discourse, respectively. In his reading of Benjamin’s essay “The Task of the
Translator,” Paul de Man says: “[t]hat the original was not purely canonical is clear from the
fact that it demands translation: it cannot be definitive since it can be translated…. Translation
does not paraphrase or imitate, “it disarticulates the original” (“Conclusions” 83–84). Even
though the reader is probably acquainted with typical elements from the gauchesque and the
English languages and cultures, the “dialogue” between gauchos and foreigners in El inglés de
los güesos demands clarification. If they were taken for granted, they would reaffirm the
inclusion/exclusion binaries of the gauchesque genre and the hierarchical imbalances of the
travel writing tradition. Yet the attempts to gloss “disarticulate” with humor the canonical
status of those cultural elements and that undermines their cultural representativity.
For example, when the foreigner “translates” the torta frita as bread, he erases the cultural
particularity of the traditional rural Argentine pastry. This pastry is not only made differently
than bread, but it also belongs to the ritual of drinking mate, especially on rainy days and at
special events in the Argentine countryside.36 When Doña Casiana explains the baking of
pastry as different from the baking of bread, she is trying to reestablish the item’s regional
particularity. While Gray’s approach disrupts the national glossary, Doña Casiana tries to
reinstate its traditional meaning.
It is important for Gray to understand the difference between these two items because the
pastry holds a representative status in the gauchesque culture. Since the gauchesque theme
plays a central role in the configuration of Argentine national identity, Doña Casiana’s long
“dissertation” on the subject attempts to keep the unity of the patriotic language of the “Martín
Fierro.” It represents a strategy to maintain the normative discourse of the gauchesque trope.
However, offering the recipe to Gray becomes a double-edged sword. In sharing the steps to
this symbol’s construction, she puts the torta frita under threat of being reproduced somewhere
else and ultimately of losing its representational quality. This is an instance that has a similar
effect to Hudson’s translation of the chiripá as a garment in The Purple Land (26), where
translation produces the glossary effect. The attempt to define a term complicates its place in
the normative discourse that canonized the gauchesque trope in Argentine letters. Moreover,
both translations highlight the universal values that support, and thus, undermine the particular.
The misunderstandings between the foreigner and the gauchos also play a role in the de-
canonization of the original languages and cultural elements. When Don Juan, Balbina’s father,
explains Santos Telmo’s irrational jealous behavior to Gray, he says:
-cuando a un cristiano le pasaba lo que le estaba aconteciendo a Santos Telmo, nada debía de extrañar a naides que el
hombre se pone lo mesmito que toro embichao, que hasta se pelea con su propia sombra …
-Mí no comprende, don Cuan …
-Ya sé, míster; ya sé que no comprende ¡Cómo va a comprender usté, que es tan serio y tan sabio, estas locuras de
muchacho! (68–69)
Does James not understand Santos Telmo’s emotional behavior, or Don Juan’s gauchesque
allegory of the sick bull fighting with his own shadow? This conversation is interrupted, and
this point is not clarified. Don Juan’s answer is based on the dubious assumption that his
gauchesque analogy has been understood. The use of the gauchesque expression, however, has
most likely left the foreigner in the dark.
Even though Don Juan’s answer implies that gauchesque culture does not need to be (or
cannot be) translated because it is unique, his comparison of Santos Telmo’s attitude with the
behavior of a sick and irritable animal can actually be translated. The possibility for
translation implicit in Gray’s request questions the canonical value of the rural theme. It is a
challenge to the inclusion/exclusion nature of a regional particularism that believes that only
the locals can be “in the know.” Lynch’s introduction of “dialogue” between a foreigner and the
gaucho-peasants in this rural setting contrasts with Lugones’s postulation of gauchesque
mentality as “naturally” representative of the national character. Gray’s rough approximations
and questions about the gauchesque culture make it vulnerable to translation and de-
canonization.
Lynch’s inclusion of a double directional glossary effect complicates this matter because
the English language and culture is also under the threat of being de-normalized by translation.
At one point in the novel, James tells Balbina that he had dreamt of being with her in the
crowded streets of London. She was dressed in red, holding a red umbrella. This is an
important detail, since at the beginning of the novel Gray arrives at the puesto “La estaca” with
a red umbrella. The umbrella represents his exotic and foreign status. In his dream, the
umbrella is part of the attire that allows Balbina to fit in and get lost in the crowds of London.
Gray dreams that he loses her in the
mare mágnum de aquella multitud sombría y bullente … entre el oleaje de la muchedumbre ciega y los hoscos misterios
de la inmensa ciudad desconocida … ¡Pobre Babino! ¡Qué iba a ser de ella, tan niña, tan ingenua y tan inexperta, en
medio de los peligros de la ciudad extraña y a mil leguas de su país y de su casa! (164–165)
In his concern about her incapability of finding her way around, he exoticizes a city that can
only be too familiar to him. In other words, since Gray describes his city to Balbina, trying to
imagine it from her perspective, his explanation of the familiar becomes estranged and foreign.
The description of the dream fascinates the listener who had “los negros ojos aún absortos
ante el espectáculo de la narración cuyas maravillas exaltaba su propia fantasía” (166). This is
a mirror image of Gray’s expression while Doña Casiana explained the difference between
bread and torta frita. In this respect, the novel breaks the foreign/native dichotomy through
reciprocal vision; both are equally fascinated by the other’s exotic cultural elements.
At the end of his dream, Gray finds himself on a large transatlantic ship that is transformed
into a tramway the moment Balbina reappears, running after him. In the novel, the urban
“civilized” elements of the London crowds, the transatlantic ship, and the tramway are
introduced to the native woman as part of the cultural exchange. During the description of the
dream, Gray becomes the teacher who is explaining elements of his culture to Balbina. But the
cultural translation, which is done by putting the elements in context, threatens the unity of the
English language and culture. In Gray’s dream, elements of western civilization turn barbaric
and dangerous: the tramway and the ship lose their value as industrial accomplishments and
become a threat to Gray and Balbina’s relationship.
Furthermore, the presence of Balbina in the crowds of London challenges the
foreign/native, traveler/travelee dichotomy of the contact zone. The exotic native is dressed as
an urban woman and has become part of the masses. However, Gray expresses anxiety about
this and is relieved when he wakes up and realizes that Balbina is walking into his room at the
puesto. Her native particularity is reestablished by her “modesto vestidillo azul muy bien
planchado” (165).
While the plot sustains a native/foreign dynamic, the conversation between them opens the
door for Balbina’s first spontaneous attempt at speaking English. She had come in to give him a
letter that he received from England. To James’s “¡Thank you, miss!” she responds:
“¡Verigüel!” (Very well) and blushes at the Englishman’s surprise as he asks: “¿Cómo
Babino?” During these interactions, most words include a trace of the other, and therefore the
unity of the English language and the gauchesque speech is challenged. It is curious that at her
distress for speaking English using gauchesque pronunciation, Gray says: “Nada de lo que es
realmente útil y beneficioso en la vida puede aprenderse en un momento, ni nada deja de
aprenderse cuando el empeño es firme” (167). In this odd instance he speaks perfect Spanish.
Did Lynch forget to imitate his broken speech? Gray assures Balbina that she can learn English
because she is intelligent, which she modestly denies, in keeping with the traditional
patriarchal hierarchical imbalance that is characteristic of their relationship (167–168).
The foreigner’s first words in the text are “Mí trabaca … mí busca huesas antiguos …,
viecas, viecas” (11). “Mí” refers to me in English, although the correct word here would be
yo,meaning I. The verb “trabaca” meaning trabajo is misspelled and conjugated in the third
person instead of the first, and the adjective “vieca” meaning viejos is misspelled but it is
semi-correctly coordinated with the (however incorrectly) gendered noun “huesas” (instead of
huesos).
These mistakes are representative of Gray’s use of Spanish throughout the novel, but they
do not show the influence of gauchesque speech in his language yet. However, to the gaucho
Santos Telmo’s inquiry of whether he is looking to excavate “güeso de indio” in the lagoon
named “Los Toros,” Gray replies: “Yes! …, güesas india, mí bosca, mí lleva pir miuseun”
(11).37 He starts to imitate the gauchesque speech (güesas instead of huesos), and for the rest
of the novel he is not able to differentiate it from Castilian Spanish.
Lynch’s novel problematizes the concept of authentic or original language through the
contamination that results from the “dialogue” between foreigner and gauchos. In Hudson’s
narratives it is easier to distinguish a term’s original from its translated version, because he
translates from gauchesque speech and Spanish to English; but Lynch creates a new language.
The Anglogauchesque speech shared by Gray and the gauchos that he encounters in his visit
does away with the boundaries between foreign and native categories at the language level.
Words such as Verigüel (English with gauchesque spelling said by a gaucho young woman),
miuseun (English with Spanish spelling), or tote fite (a gauchesque term with English
pronunciation said by the English visitor) challenge the unity of the three linguistic codes.
Many of the words that belong to the Anglo-gauchesque speech are not so easily deciphered.
Derrida’s notion of the lack of unity in a single language system is taken to an absurd level in
this novel.38
The particular use of language and the creation of the Anglo-gauchesque speech erode the
hierarchies attached to the dichotomies that seem to be maintained so neatly at the plot level in
this novel. At the language level, no versions are more correct than others. Even the native
speakers pronounce their own language incorrectly, as when Gray corrects Balbina’s manner
of calling him míster Yemes: “El riéndose, le corrigió una vez más: ‘Ye-i-mes’ … Babino,
‘Ye-i-mes’” (104). The English paleontologist is using Spanish sounds to pronounce his own
name. Besides being funny, mispronunciations place all speakers at the same level of
awkwardness. The fact that everyone makes linguistic mistakes and everyone can correct each
other dismantles fixed hierarchies of gender and national identity in El inglés de los güesos.
Doña Casiana corrects Gray, and Don Juan chooses not to clarify Gray’s confusion.
Thus, at the plot level the cultural exchange, the language lessons, and even the romantic
feelings between James and Balbina do not transcend the hierarchical system typical of the
rural theme in Argentine letters and the travel writing tradition. In El inglés de los güesos,
Lynch lets the natives laugh at Gray’s ineptitude in his dealings with the native culture, but he
emphasizes the foreigner’s higher intellectual ability. The reciprocal vision here maintains the
hierarchical imbalance of the contact zone. A clear indication is when the narrator explains that
James does not understand how he can have such strong feelings for “una muchachilla
semibárbara y hasta ayer completamente desconocida” (193). In spite of their emotional
involvement, at the end of the novel, “el inglés de los güesos” breaks away from her spell, he
goes back to England, and the heartbroken Balbina commits suicide. In other words, the mutual
lesson ends where the social hierarchies begin.
To the extent that the foreigner can have feelings for her but still regard the gaucho young
woman as “semi-barbarous,” the cultural exchange does not succeed in disrupting the
native/foreign dichotomy. It also recalls Sarmiento’s civilization/barbarism paradigm. From
the narrator’s perspective, the narrator represents the urban Argentine intellectual elite, James
Gray the European civilization, and Balbina and Santos Telmo the barbarism of the gaucho.
However, the inclusion of the gauchos’ subjectivities in the text complicates the narrator’s
perception. Besides, Lynch’s gaucho is never quite Lugones’s or Güiraldes’s model Argentine,
and he is not Sarmiento’s version either. The gaucho in this novel does not choose to follow the
rules of the national state; he is subject to the rules of the estancia as a result of the socio-
economic changes.
Moreover, the hierarchical imbalances exist at the plot level, but this does not mean that
they establish the scientific and gauchesque pedagogical discourses. The paleontologist
represents the “civilized” world, but he is not at the puesto to educate the gauchos, and the
opposite does not take place either. Although James Gray’s ethnographic experience is central
to the novel, it remains a hobby in comparison to the seriousness that he shows toward his
paleontological task. He learns the gauchesque customs in his leisure time, waiting for the rain
to stop falling, for dinner to be ready, or kidding around with the gauchos. Neither party takes
the cultural exchange seriously—except for Balbina, who interprets James’s cultural lessons as
expressions of love, and who is partly right.
In contrast, the particular use of language between the foreigner and the gauchos represents
the success of this novel in breaking from the self/other dichotomy typical of the rural theme in
Argentine letters and the scientific discourse of the travel writing tradition. The glossary effect
—produced by the gaucho’s and the foreigner’s effort to understand each other through the
Anglo-gauchesque linguistic concoctions—is an aspect that distinguishes El inglés de los
güesos from the gauchesque genre. Moreover, the glossary effect questions foreign and native
as categories that define culture and identity. A good example is the juxtaposition of torta frita,
its recipe, and “bread” for its awkward translation. Translation goes across geographical,
cultural, and social boundaries in this novel. Not only because everyone errs, but also because
most characters try to gloss.
The glossary effect in this novel is less obvious than in Hudson’s rural narratives, because
it is not the intra-textual definition that we saw in those texts. In Lynch’s novel the glossary
effect takes place in the clarifications and play on words that appear in the dialogues between
foreign scientist and the gauchos. The linguistic interaction between the foreign scientist and
the gauchos yields the possibility for questioning the binaries inherent in their traditional
constructions. At the language level, Lynch allows himself to do something that Gerchunoff
does not dare: he mixes the languages of his characters. This would have helped the Jewish
gauchos to be what their coined name designates. Notwithstanding, Gerchunoff’s famous tales
defy the traditional constructions of the gaucho figure as representative of national identity and
of the Jew as the ultimate foreigner. Detailed description and awkward tension between
foreign and native categories permeates Gerchunoff’s construction of his Jewish gaucho.
NOTES
1. He claimed to have been born in Buenos Aires and to be a “porteño viejo” in an

interview with Ernesto Mario Barreda, “Benito Lynch. El novelista de la pampa” Caras y
Caretas (6 Jun. 1925).
2. La Plata was founded as the capital of the province of Buenos Aires as a result of the
federalization of the city of Buenos Aires in 1880, under Roca’s presidency. Isidoro J. Ruiz
Moreno, “Primera presidencia del general Roca,” Ferrari and Gallo, eds., Del ochenta al
centenario (Buenos Aires: Sudamericana, 1980) 140.
3. Estela Dos Santos, “Realismo tradicional. Narrativa rural,” Historia de la literatura
argentina (Buenos Aires: CEAL, 1980) 7–8.
4. Two exceptions are Noé Jitrik’s “¿Es El inglés de los güesos una tragedia argentina?,”
El ejemplo de la familia (Buenos Aires: Eudeba, 1998) 173–190 and Sandra Contreras, “El
campo de Benito Lynch: del realismo a la novela sentimental,” Noé Jitrik, Dir., Historia
crítica de la literatura argentina. El imperio realista (Buenos Aires: Emecé, 2002) 201–223.
5. David Viñas, “Benito Lynch y la pampa cercada,” Cultura universitaria (Venezuela) 46
(Nov–Dec 1954) 46.
6. Anderson Imbert, for example, says that “el dialecto vernáculo en que se cuenta El
romance de un gaucho es genuino y, sin embargo, tiene la dignidad estética de la mejor prosa
narrativa.” Historia de la literatura hispanoamericana (México: FCE, 1957) 357–358.
7. “El escritor argentino y la tradición,” Discusión 154.
8. David Viñas, “Benito Lynch: la realización del Facundo,” Contorno 5–6 (Sept. 1955)
21.
9. David Viñas, “Benito Lynch y la pampa cercada” 41. For an extensive study of the
socio-economic changes that affected the gaucho’s original lifestyle, see Ricardo E. Rodríguez
Molas, Historia social del gaucho (Buenos Aires: CEAL, 1994).
10. Edward E. Settgast, “Analysis of Benito Lynch’s El inglés de los güesos” (Diss.
Florida State University, 1967) 18.
11. Julio Caillet-Bois, La novela rural de Benito Lynch (Diss. Universidad Nacional de
La Plata [Arg.] 1960) 28.
12. Germán García calls Lynch’s characters “paisano-gaucho” in his article “La pampa de
William H. Hudson” BAAL XLIII (1978) 94.
13. Ludmer suggests that this poem—written using popular speech and based on
gauchesque knowledge—appeals to the law and the moral code to turn the gaucho into a
modern worker (El género gauchesco 56).
14. Lynch presents the conflict that creates the imposition of the state law over the
gauchesque code of honor in the short story titled “Un patrón endeveras.” In that story, a
gaucho has killed a drunkard. The drunkard had been emotionally abusing his daughter and
wife at a party and threatening the other guests. The avenger complains that: “Parece que ahura
hay que mentirle al juez pa que haga justicia y avergonzarse diciendo que de puro asustao jué
que uno …, ¿no?” Cuentos camperos 92.
15. El antojo de la patrona y Palo verde (n.p.: Latina, 1925).
16. “El extranjero en las obras de Benito Lynch,” Hispania 54 (1971) 93.
17. The story “Locura de honor” from Palo verde y otras novelas cortas (Buenos Aires y
México: Espasa-Calpe, 1940) is about a city man of Italian descent whom they call “el
gringo.” The story centers on his good values. “El pozo,” Cuentos (Buenos Aires: CEAL,
1980) is about another urban gringo who has difficulties dealing with his lack of rural skills
while visiting a criollo friend. In his desperation to be useful while he stays at his friend’s
estancia, he goes down the water well to get rid of a dead animal and becomes trapped. In
both stories, the urban immigrants of Italian descent need to prove their masculinity which
directly relates to the gauchesque tradition. While in “Locura de honor” the gringo jumps to
his own death against his opponent’s sword to save that man’s honor, because his opponent
suffers from extreme cowardice, the gringo from “El pozo” is humiliated by having to accept
his friend’s help to get out of the well and fainting.
18. Los gauchos judíos offers a different perspective on this matter. In Gerchunoff’s tales,
the gauchos stare sadly at the immigrants working the land because this image triggers
nostalgia for times past when the land was open to wander about free, but there is certainly no
resentment toward the foreigners in that gaze. The immigrants’ diligence is greatly praised in
those stories, and it does not appear as a reason for conflict with the gauchos (75).
19. The subject of assimilation only seems to be important in Lynch’s first novel, Plata
dorada. The urban context of this novel and the fact that the person who wants to assimilate is
an Argentine brings a different perspective to this discussion. The novel is about a child whose
father is obsessed with English culture—a common occurrence at the turn of the century in
Buenos Aires. The father believes that his son’s assimilation into English culture and ultimate
change of national affiliation is a simple matter of education. Benito Lynch, Plata dorada
(Buenos Aires: Rodríguez Giles, 1909) 109.

20. Los caranchos de la Florida 125.
21. Felipe Navarro posits: “La pampa de Benito Lynch dista de ser infinita. Al contrario,
el autor la limita al fragmentado mundo de las estancias. Una pampa surcada por alambre de
púas y cuyos habitantes ya no son gauchos sino simples peones. El extranjero observa esa
tierra que ‘progresa’, pero que como paisaje mantiene su frescura.” “La pampa omnipresente:
notas a propósito de Benito Lynch,” Río de la Plata 4–6 (1987) 306. Nora Domínguez also
says that in this fiction the sign of property delimits the pampas. “Güiraldes y Lynch: últimos
gauchos en familia,” David Viñas, ed., Historia social de la literatura argentina, vol. VII
(Buenos Aires: Contrapunto, 1989) 290. Viñas addresses the issue in “Benito Lynch: la
realización del ‘Facundo.’”
22. See Williams Alzaga for an exhaustive compilation of the few instances where nature
is described in Lynch’s fiction (216–234).
23. Jorge Luis Borges, “La poesía gauchesca,” Discusión 33.
24. For example, to explain Santos Telmo’s mood, Lynch says: “ante el espectáculo del
astro rojo cayendo en un caos de nubarrones sombríos, a Santos Telmo se le ocurrió que aquel
sol era un ser como él, herido de muerte y como él perseguido” El inglés 116. This is an
aspect that Lynch actually shares with Güiraldes’s Don Segundo Sombra, Williams Alzaga,
249. See also Settgast, 39, and Caillet-Bois 15 and 18.
25. Grandes novelistas de la américa hispana (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press, 1949) 115.
26. “La crítica ha señalado a este respecto la similitud de las descripciones de BL (c.
“Laguna de los Toros”) con aquellas hechas por los naturalistas viajeros, como Darwin.”
Felipe Navarro, “La pampa omnipresente: notas a propósito de Benito Lynch,” Rio de la Plata
4–6 (1987) 306. This is inaccurate. Lynch’s description of the “Laguna de los Toros” is simply
used to express Gray’s emotions: “Hasta la hermosa laguna azul, grande como un mar y que,
agitada entonces por el viento norte, se cubría de vellocinos blancos, le resultaba aquella
mañana sombría y hostil como su espíritu,” El inglés de los güesos, 190.
27. Charles Darwin, The Voyage of the Beagle (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1959)
41.
28. Darwin’s descriptions of the nature and culture of Uruguay and Argentina resemble
more those of Hudson. As discussed in the previous chapter, Hudson integrated elements of
nature into the narrative using the systema naturae—Lynch did not. James Gray, the protagonist
of El inglés de los güesos, is a naturalist just like Richard Lamb, The Purple Land’s hero.
However, Lynch does not have a connection to the scientific discourse beyond this novel and
Hudson was a naturalist who published a substantial bibliography in this subject. His expertise
infuses his creative writing.
29. Jens Andermann, Mapas de poder. Una arqueología literaria del espacio argentino
(Rosario: Beatriz Viterbo, 2000) 124–126. See also Andermann’s more recent book, where he
discusses the violence implicit in the complex dynamic the viewer engages in when gazing at
the Indian remains displayed at the center of the anthropological section of the museum of
nature in La Plata, Argentina: “[The museum] not only plays on the violence of the radical
otherness (and objectness) that it places before its visitors’ eyes, but also on the violence of
exhibiting itself: the superior violence of the museum apparatus that has contained the excess of
otherness in its image of order.” The Optic of the State. Visuality and Power in Argentina and
Brazil (Pittsburgh: U of Pittsburgh P, 2007) 57.
30. This perception is present in Lynch’s El romance de un gaucho.
31. Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes 7.
32. Several intellectuals have commented on pedagogical tools directed to the immigrant’s
process of assimilation. Beatriz Sarlo says that “[l]a escuela era una máquina de imposición
de identidades,” La máquina cultural (Buenos Aires: Ariel, 1998) 67. Adolfo Prieto suggests
that school syllabi and government alphabetization programs had this intention. El discurso
criollista en la formación de la Argentina moderna (Buenos Aires: Sudamericana, 1988) 33.
For a historical survey about the implementation of pedagogical measures such as patriotic
education as a reaction to the massive wave of immigration at the turn of the nineteenth century,
see Carlos Escudé, El fracaso del proyecto argentino. Educación e ideología (Buenos Aires:
Instituto Torcuato Di Tella, 1990). Texts such as Tradiciones argentinas by Pastor Obligado
were apparently used to educate the immigrant. Historia de la literatura argentina 285.
33. This visit takes place after an incident when Santos Telmo hurts James because he is
jealous of his relationship with Balbina.
34. Caillet-Bois, “La novela rural de Benito Lynch” 26.
35. “Chacota: Diversión, fiesta ruidosa, broma.” Tomar a la chacota, tomar en broma, no
asignar importancia a algo que la tiene. Felix Coluccio, Diccionario de voces y expresiones
argentinas (Buenos Aires: Plus Ultra, 1979) 60. Coluccio quotes the use of the term in Martín
Fierro, but this is an Argentine regionalism that is also used in urban settings.
36. “Torta frita: Pastel. Harina amasada con agua y sal y frita en grasa de vaca, que la
gente del campo prepara generalmente en los días de lluvia. En las fiestas criollas, yerras,
domas, etc. no falta.” Saubidet 388.
37. See previous note regarding Jens Andermann’s books that deal with the connection
between paleontology, museums, and configuration of the nation.
38. The Ear of the Other 100.

Benito Lynch: A Realistic Portrait of The Gaucho and The Pampas

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Chapter

Benito Lynch: A Realistic Portrait of the Gaucho and the

proclaim national identity. Moreover, the lighthearted creation of the Anglo-gauchesque

THE GAUCHO IN LYNCH’S OEUVRE

as typical characters that embody the cultural representativity of Argentina.

Head’s observation is true, but at a very marginal level; he is focusing on a rather

man and the land is taken for granted.

EL INGLÉS DE LOS GÜESOS: CREATING AN UN-COMMON LANGUAGE

smoothly, but are quite amusing.

1. He claimed to have been born in Buenos Aires and to be a “porteño viejo” in an

(Buenos Aires: Rodríguez Giles, 1909) 109.

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