Zorro (Isabel Allende)
I have to confess to a fascination with Zorro, which began when I discovered that the Disney Channel had re-runs of the 1950s TV series starring Guy Williams on every night. I was working on an embroidered tablecloth as a Christmas present for my mother that semester, so every night I sat down in front of the TV at 11:30 and watched the show while I worked on my embroidery. I had seen a spoof Zorro movie--The Gay Blade, I believe--but this was my first introduction to Zorro that wasn't pure farce.
When I saw that the famous Chilean author Isabel Allende had written a version of the Zorro story, I had to read it. I had been wanting to read something of hers for a while, so this was my introduction to her books.
I enjoyed it enormously. I haven't been able to track down the original Zorro stories, so I can't say what she pulled from those and what she was lifting from the Disney series. She makes references to the title song, so I suspect that several other points are pure Disney as well. Her novel is mostly set before Zorro begins his work in Spanish California in earnest--I would describe it as "Zorro and how he got that way." The familiar group of characters are there--Diego, Alejandro, Bernardo, the future Sargent Garcia, and of course the villanous Moncada. Part of the fun is recognizing these characters from the series--the pleasure of recognition, I think, has to be one of the great joys of reading. However, most of the story is how Zorro becomes what he is, studying under a famous fencing master in Barcelona, joining a resistance movement to the French occupation of Spain, etc.
And, lest anyone worry about a "literary" author writing about a popular legend, let me say that the novel swashes and buckles quite satisfactorily throughout. This isn't to say Allende doesn't play with the legend--we learn, for instance, that part of the reason Zorro wears the style of mask that he does is because his ears protrude and the mask holds them flat--or change details to suit herself. I don't know about the original stories, but in the Disney series, Diego's mother was a) dead and b) presumably European (her no-good brother shows up at one point in the series, and he has a Spanish name). Allende changes this, and the racial tensions in California give the novel a serious tone in places. None of this takes away from the romping nature of most of the book, however; it only keeps it from being superficial (the Disney series also dealt with European cruelty to the natives in a few episodes also, for the same reason).
No, I think one of the big "literary" issues Allende brings up in this book is the whole question of fanfiction, for that is what Zorro unquestionably is--complete with Mary Sue and all. A Mary Sue (or, if it's a male, Harry Stu), for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is a character in a work of fan fiction who is an obvious self-portrait of the fan fiction's author, often in a position of romantic attachment to the hero of the story. If I were to write a pastiche Lord Peter Wimsey story, in which his client is a Ph.D. in medieval literature named "Becca," who wrote her dissertation on a subject that is identical to mine, and they have a love scene, etc., that would be an example of a Mary Sue.
Allende's Zorro has a character named "Isabel," whose physical description (thick curly hair, etc) seems like Allende's own, and who becomes a sidekick for Diego (there are other clues that she's a Mary Sue, but they involve spoilers). In case anyone missed this, Allende's author portrait shows her in period costume, with a Zorro mask, the hat, and a sword--we are to identify her with the Isabel in the novel. Allende was smart enough to pick something in the public domain (I think) or at least to get permission to use Zorro--the legality of fan fiction is a whole 'nother issue that we need not deal with here. Rather, she demands that we consider the artistry of fan fiction. Must we write off obviously derivative works, even when a practitioner of Allende's skill produces them, as less "serious" than her other novels? Or, does Allende actually have a more authentic book than the originals, since after all she writes in Spanish about her Spanish characters, while the original stories and the Disney series were entirely Anglophone? Is it more original to re-do a familiar set of characters and their stock plots (prison breaks, rescues, etc) with a new emphasis on race, or to invent new characters entirely to think about these issues?
I'm a medievalist, so I have no problem with the idea that "originality" can include interesting new treatments of old stories (otherwise, you have to say Chaucer is un-original, which I won't concede). But some of the backlash against fan-fiction has tended toward that argument. What I think Allende could be suggesting here is that a sharp division between "original" and "derivative" works leaves out a lot of middle ground that authors could work in with great success.
And hey, what's more derivative than Americanized versions of Mexican dishes? Whip up some guacamole to munch on while you're reading Zorro:
2-3 avacados
3-4 canned whole peeled tomatoes, plus some of the juice from the can
1/2 tsp. Tabasco sauce (more if you like it spicy!)
1/2 tsp minced garlic
1/2 tsp salt.
1 tbspn lemon juice.
Scoop the pulp out of the avacados--when you buy them, make sure they're nice and soft (but not rotten). Combine them in a blender with the other ingredients, and blend until smooth. Or, if you don't have a blender, you can mash the avacado up with a potato masher and chop the tomatoes before you combine the ingredients. This recipe doesn't add sour cream to the guacamole, so it's much healthier than most restaurant versions (although the avacados in it will make it turn brown if you save it over night--it's still edible, just not as pretty).
Got a thought about Zorro, fan-fiction, or originality? Leave a comment below!
When I saw that the famous Chilean author Isabel Allende had written a version of the Zorro story, I had to read it. I had been wanting to read something of hers for a while, so this was my introduction to her books.
I enjoyed it enormously. I haven't been able to track down the original Zorro stories, so I can't say what she pulled from those and what she was lifting from the Disney series. She makes references to the title song, so I suspect that several other points are pure Disney as well. Her novel is mostly set before Zorro begins his work in Spanish California in earnest--I would describe it as "Zorro and how he got that way." The familiar group of characters are there--Diego, Alejandro, Bernardo, the future Sargent Garcia, and of course the villanous Moncada. Part of the fun is recognizing these characters from the series--the pleasure of recognition, I think, has to be one of the great joys of reading. However, most of the story is how Zorro becomes what he is, studying under a famous fencing master in Barcelona, joining a resistance movement to the French occupation of Spain, etc.
And, lest anyone worry about a "literary" author writing about a popular legend, let me say that the novel swashes and buckles quite satisfactorily throughout. This isn't to say Allende doesn't play with the legend--we learn, for instance, that part of the reason Zorro wears the style of mask that he does is because his ears protrude and the mask holds them flat--or change details to suit herself. I don't know about the original stories, but in the Disney series, Diego's mother was a) dead and b) presumably European (her no-good brother shows up at one point in the series, and he has a Spanish name). Allende changes this, and the racial tensions in California give the novel a serious tone in places. None of this takes away from the romping nature of most of the book, however; it only keeps it from being superficial (the Disney series also dealt with European cruelty to the natives in a few episodes also, for the same reason).
No, I think one of the big "literary" issues Allende brings up in this book is the whole question of fanfiction, for that is what Zorro unquestionably is--complete with Mary Sue and all. A Mary Sue (or, if it's a male, Harry Stu), for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is a character in a work of fan fiction who is an obvious self-portrait of the fan fiction's author, often in a position of romantic attachment to the hero of the story. If I were to write a pastiche Lord Peter Wimsey story, in which his client is a Ph.D. in medieval literature named "Becca," who wrote her dissertation on a subject that is identical to mine, and they have a love scene, etc., that would be an example of a Mary Sue.
Allende's Zorro has a character named "Isabel," whose physical description (thick curly hair, etc) seems like Allende's own, and who becomes a sidekick for Diego (there are other clues that she's a Mary Sue, but they involve spoilers). In case anyone missed this, Allende's author portrait shows her in period costume, with a Zorro mask, the hat, and a sword--we are to identify her with the Isabel in the novel. Allende was smart enough to pick something in the public domain (I think) or at least to get permission to use Zorro--the legality of fan fiction is a whole 'nother issue that we need not deal with here. Rather, she demands that we consider the artistry of fan fiction. Must we write off obviously derivative works, even when a practitioner of Allende's skill produces them, as less "serious" than her other novels? Or, does Allende actually have a more authentic book than the originals, since after all she writes in Spanish about her Spanish characters, while the original stories and the Disney series were entirely Anglophone? Is it more original to re-do a familiar set of characters and their stock plots (prison breaks, rescues, etc) with a new emphasis on race, or to invent new characters entirely to think about these issues?
I'm a medievalist, so I have no problem with the idea that "originality" can include interesting new treatments of old stories (otherwise, you have to say Chaucer is un-original, which I won't concede). But some of the backlash against fan-fiction has tended toward that argument. What I think Allende could be suggesting here is that a sharp division between "original" and "derivative" works leaves out a lot of middle ground that authors could work in with great success.
And hey, what's more derivative than Americanized versions of Mexican dishes? Whip up some guacamole to munch on while you're reading Zorro:
2-3 avacados
3-4 canned whole peeled tomatoes, plus some of the juice from the can
1/2 tsp. Tabasco sauce (more if you like it spicy!)
1/2 tsp minced garlic
1/2 tsp salt.
1 tbspn lemon juice.
Scoop the pulp out of the avacados--when you buy them, make sure they're nice and soft (but not rotten). Combine them in a blender with the other ingredients, and blend until smooth. Or, if you don't have a blender, you can mash the avacado up with a potato masher and chop the tomatoes before you combine the ingredients. This recipe doesn't add sour cream to the guacamole, so it's much healthier than most restaurant versions (although the avacados in it will make it turn brown if you save it over night--it's still edible, just not as pretty).
Got a thought about Zorro, fan-fiction, or originality? Leave a comment below!
posted by Rebecca Brackmann at 8:00 PM
1 Comments:
Indeed, the movie mentioned here is Zorro, The Gay Blade. Richard Hamilton plays Zorro who breaks his leg during one of his exploits. Fortunately, his brother (also played by Hamilton) arrives for a visit and fills in for while the real Zorro heals. The final fight is even more interesting because you have two Zorros fighting the bad guys.
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