A Dichotomous Role for Latina Women:
how Malintzín influenced 19th century literature

In the early 16th century, a female slave from Tabasco helped a Spaniard conquer present day’s Middle America. She bore the Spaniard’s child, one of the first mestizos(1), and became his confidante, translator, and concubine. By the 19th century, her role in the fall of the Aztecs gave her legacy the stigma of treachery and betrayal. In the 20th and 21st centuries, some people have sought to redefine her legend into one not influenced by anger and indignation, but one based on the objectivity of hindsight. This Tabascan slave’s name was Malintzín, and the Spanish father of her child was Hernán Cortés. Malintzín’s virtuous counterpart in Latin American culture was the Virgin of Guadalupe. “Guadalupe…was the emerging Mexican people’s native version of the Virgin Mary” (Alarcón, 278). She was the exact opposite of Malintzín, who represented the “bad” role of women while Guadalupe represented the “good” role. There was no third role, no in-between, and no gray area. 19th century literature reflects the dichotomy of the role of women in Mexico, the sources of which lie in Malintzín and Guadalupe. Novels such as Caballero, The Squatter and the Don, and Xicoténcatl support my hypothesis that Mexican culture had created the two roles for women, which sat at the opposite ends of the scale of virtue. Literature of the 20th/21st century has endeavored to redefine Malintzín’s legacy into a third, more realistic, role for Latina women. Authors such as Norma Alarcón, Octavio Paz, and Alma Villanueva, and films such as Indigenous Always reflect a contemporary desire to change Mexican culture’s dichotomous views about women.


Norma Alarcón’s article, “Traddutora, Traditora,” discusses the difference between the roles of the Virgin of Guadalupe and Malintzín Tenepal in creating a certain perspective of women in Latin American culture. In 19th century literature, Malintzín evolved into a source of Spanish aggression because she helped Cortés as his translator in the 17th century. Moreover, since she was also indigenous to Mexico, her fellow countrymen branded her as a traitor to her country. Felix Varela’s historical novel (1826), Xicoténcatl (2), was about the conquest of the Aztecs in the early 17th century, an event that acted as an allegory to what was occurring in the 19th century. Xicoténcatl the Younger is a general in the army of Tlaxcala, a neighboring nation of the Aztecs. Upon meeting Dońa Marina, Malintzín’s Catholic name, Xicoténcatl scolds her for helping Cortés. “Does the flame of love of country still burn inside you? Or have you been corrupted and contaminated by these men’s magical arts, arts that upset all of what is just and unjust, good and evil”(Varela, 59). Varela not only uses dialogue to disparage Malintzín, but also uses character juxtaposition as well. “The narrator establishes the contrasting behavior of Teutila [a loyal native] for each characteristic that is part of the Malinche paradigm…the narrator is criticizing Marina for accepting so easily the ways of the European, which he [characterizes] as corrupt”(Cypess, 47). Teutila, the only entirely fictional character in the novel, has only virtuous qualities, and her existence in the novel shows how the author purposely included her for the purpose of juxtaposition against Malintzín.


The Virgin of Guadalupe was regarded as the Catholic personification of the Aztec goddess Tonantzin (Alarcón, 278), but why she emerged in Mexican culture is still a bit vague. It is my supposition that she was the natives’ way of shutting out and even insulting the Spanish crown. Guadalupe was the exact opposite of Malintzín. She was submissive whereas Malintzín was considered aggressive. “If in the beginning Cortés and Malintzín are welcomed as saviors from…Aztec imperialism, soon each is unmasked and…expelled so that the authentic gods may be recovered, awaited, and/or invented” (Alarcón, 279). Her allegedly first appearance to an Aztec Indian came to be regarded as the only religious icon that the conquerors did not impose upon them. Some would say that the Virgin of Guadalupe still represents the religion of the conquerors, but “Guadalupe…is a metaphor that has never wholly taken the place of Tonantzin. As such, Guadalupe is capable of alternately evoking the Catholic and meek Virgin Mother and the prepatriarchal and powerful earth goddess” (Alarcón, 279). Thus, part of Guadalupe still “belongs,” in a sense, to the natives whereas Malintzín belongs entirely to the conquering nation for her role in its success as a colonizer.


Malintzín was greatly vilified in the 19th century, and most of her dissenters were also her descendants. The Mexican community sought solidarity against the onslaught of Spain’s colonization in the 19th century. The author of Xicoténcatl was a Cuban criollo, a class of Latin American citizens that was the equivalent of middle class or higher. This criollo class was the main group of Latin Americans that used the disparaging of Malintzín as a unification mechanism against the Spanish crown (3). The scarcity of documentation allowed Malintzín to become the medium-translator (traitor) of conquest, and the flawed origin (mother) of a nation who would make her the symbol of the schizophrenic split between the European and the indigenous (Franco, xix). So the Mexicans’ anger fell upon Malintzín, turning her into a “mother-goddess/muse/whore” (Alarcón, 283).


Literature of the19th century, as seen above in Varela’s novel, made obvious the two distinctive roles of women, and also contained many allegories of and allusions to concepts associated with Guadalupe and Malintzín. Women who were outspoken (4) or desired more responsibilities than allowed in Latin American society were usually represented as cruel, selfish, and abrasive. Caballero, by Jovita González and Eve Raleigh, is about the Mendoza y Soría family, and its struggles with a new social order after the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Don Santiago’s widowed sister, Dońa Dolores, is always speaking her mind, especially if it’s a criticism of her brother. Since she’s outspoken, her brother constantly yells at her, and she is not shown as particularly attractive (5).


Literature also depicted women who wanted relationships with men of a different race, class, ethnicity, or nationality as being ostracized by society. Miscegenation was a transgression of “the boundaries of perceived group interests and values”(Alarcón, 279) and was a painful reminder of Malintzín’s supposed betrayal with Cortés. In Helen Hunt Jackson’s Ramona, Ramona is the adopted half-Indian daughter of Seńora Moreno. When Seńora Moreno, described as icy (Hunt, 4), hears of Ramona’s relationship with a lower-class Indian worker, she seeks to destroy their amorous plans though she resents Ramona for being half-Indian. “The idea of her stepdaughter, half-breed though she may be, wedding an Indian is enough to stimulate in her thoughts of giving [Ramona’s] secret dowry [sic] to the Franciscans and Ramona herself to a cloistered convent” (Dorris, xiii). Seńora Moreno’s harsh treatment of miscegenation shows that it was against society’s rules in 19th century culture. In Caballero, Don Santiago’s daughter, Susanita, falls in love with Robert Warrener, an American. Her love brings her father’s wrath down upon her, and he tries to force her to wed an older man, who is of the same class and ethnicity as their family. The authors of Caballero used this novel to show the lengths to which “old order” advocates went in order to keep the status quo. Moreover, González and Raleigh kill off those in the novel who refuse to let go of the old order. This idea of “old order vs. new order” alludes to the original conflict between Spain and Mexico in the 17th century. Old order represents status quo, and new order represents assimilation and change. Therefore, Malintzín’s role in bringing about a new order is similar to the role that certain characters in Caballero played in assimilating to their new order. Caballero is therefore progressive in that it discusses assimilation issues, a topic that links directly to miscegenation.



María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s The Squatter and the Don tells the story of two families. The Alamares are Californios struggling with the new social order after the arrival of Anglo-American settlers into the United States’ new acquired territory. The Darrells consists of these same Anglo-Americans who come to live on the Alamares’ land, which the government is trying to declare as public domain. Mercedes’ mother is opposed to the marriage of Mercedes de Alamar and Clarence Darrell because the lovers are from different classes. When Clarence assures her that the land his family lives on has been paid for, her objections disappear, revealing her obvious discrimination against people of other classes.


A nation’s honor and integrity often mirrored the virtue of women in 19th Century literature (6). Alarcón’s article does an excellent job of explaining this idea. To begin, we must examine how Malintzín’s virtue is viewed. As previously noted, for her role as the mother of one of the first mestizos, Malintzín “may be compared to Eve, especially when she is viewed as the originator of the Mexican people’s fall from grace and the procreator of a ‘fallen’ people” (Alarcón, 279). This fall from grace and her role as Cortés’ lover branded her with the epithet La Chingada (explained below), which emphasizes the sexual implications of having been conquered—the rape of women and the emasculation of men (Alarcón, 280). As Malintzín was “conquered” by the Spaniards, who also conquered Mexico, thus a woman’s virtue was associated with a nation’s honor. When a woman loses her virginity or virtue, she cannot regain it, the same as with a conquered nation. In effect, both woman and nation are essentially “screwed,” which is a literal meaning of La Chingada. This last characteristic of the role of women in 19th century literature is most obvious in Caballero. Susanita’s father disowned her for dishonoring herself and her family by being in the presence of strange men unchaperoned while she pleaded for her brother’s life. Her seeming loss of virtue is related to the integrity of Mexico, which was being swindled out of a lot of land by the United States during the US-Mexican War. Since Mexico had been conquered, the same idea of “La Chingada” applies to its honor. Susanita’s plight, occurring after the end of the US-Mexican War, alludes directly to Mexico’s conquered status. Literature in the 19th century consistently used such associations of a woman’s virtue and a nation’s honor.


The legend and myth of Malintzín has gone through three stages:

The first corresponds to the chroniclers and inventors of the legends; the second corresponds to the development of the traitor myth and scapegoat mechanism, which apparently came to fruition in the nineteenth century during the Mexican independence movement…the third, modernistic stage…[corresponds to how] some twentieth-century women and men of letters have felt compelled to initiate in order to revise and vindicate Malintzín (Alarcón, 281).


Now that I’ve discussed Malintzín’s role, and established the views of women in Latin American culture through evidence in 19th century literature, I’d like to show the changing role of women. Chicanas instigated the change in the 20th century, most notably during the US’s Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s and 70s. In this time of self-examination inasmuch as rights are concerned, Chicanos wanted the US to admit that Mexicans living in the United States were not necessarily immigrants, but descendants from those who lived in the area annexed by the United States more than 150 years ago. Chicanos tried to repress the charge of Chicanas, who desired to aid their cause as well as the cause of the Chicano Movement. “The Chicanos, like the Mexicans, wanted to recover their origins. However, many Chicanos emphasized the earlier nationalistic interpretations of Malintzín as the traitorous mediator who should be expelled from the community rather than accepted” (Alarcón, 284). Chicanas, however, pointed out how this clinging by Chicanos to their “nationalistic interpretations of Malintzín” deserved a closer look. In her article, Alarcón explores Alfonso Reyes’s Visión de Anáhuac and Octavio Paz’s The Labyrinth of Solitude for reasons as to why Chicanos refuse to emancipate Malintzín. “Reyes suggested that Dońa Marina…was the metaphor par excellence of Mexico and its conquest, oppression, and victimization, all of which are very much a part of Mexican life, and ‘historical emotion’”(Alarcón, 281). Paz continued with this observation by saying that Mexicans’ living attitudes are history also and concluded that La Malinche is the key to the Mexican people’s origins (Alarcón, 281). Consequently, Malintzín’s role in the past still affects the “living attitude” of Mexicans because it’s part of their history.


The main reason for the Chicanos’ rejection of Malintzín lies in this statement: “…the sons of the Malinche…were shamed by her rape (conquest) and thus forced to reject the feminine in themselves as the devalued, the passive, the mauled and battered, as la chingada, the violated, the one who has been screwed over, fucked, and yet is herself the betrayer” (xix, Franco). Chicanos basically suppressed their feminine sides in response to the “living attitudes” that they gained from their history, which is why Chicanos also reject Chicanas for trying to redeem and glorify Malintzín. Chicanos still have an inherent belief that positive feelings towards Malintzín go against their nationalistic pride, something to which they clung fervently during the Civil Rights Movement, as they demanded recognition from the United States.


Chicanas decided to break the stereotype that a woman was either silent and virtuous, or outspoken and traitorous. Chicanas reacted to the negative presentations of La Malinche as a direct defamation of themselves as women who bridge two cultures (Cypess, 142). Though Chicanos tried to decry Chicanas for their efforts, Chicanas began to seek redress for these stereotypes during the Civil Rights Movement. The Movement’s main objective was to obtain equal rights and the enforcement of those rights for disenfranchised minorities, and groups such as Chicanas took advantage of the opportunity for social change. This social change, however, was one similar to the Anglo-American social change in the United States by white feminists. Chicanas are aware that “underlying their words there is also a second (if not secondary) sociosymbolic order—the Anglo-American. The Chicana leaves herself open to the accusation of Anglicizing the community”(Alarcón, 286). Alarcón summarized quite succinctly that “for many Chicanas, ‘to be a female human being trying to fulfill traditional female functions in a traditional way [is] in direct conflict’ with their creativity and inventiveness, as well as with their desire to transform their cultural roles and redefine themselves in accordance with their experience and vision” (285). Traditional female functions meant a much more submissive role in all aspects of life, similar to that of the Virgin of Guadalupe. She was “the unquestioning transmitter of tradition and deliverer from oppression…a symbol that continues to exist for the purpose of ‘universalizing’ and containing women’s lives within a discrete cultural banner” (Alarcón, 284, 294). Chicanas could identify with Malintzín because Chicanos labeled them as traitors for consorting with Anglos or accepting Anglo cultural patterns as they formed the contemporary re/vision of the Malinche paradigm (Cypess, 138). As earlier stated, Anglo-American feminist work was launched around the assumption of a unified subject organized oppositionally [sic.] to men from a perspective of gender differences (Alarcón, 293).


To redeem her, Chicanas put forth the idea of Malintzín being a scapegoat (Alarcón, 279). “For Chicanas, as [Adelaida R.] del Castillo implies, Malintzín was more than a metaphor…she represented a specific female experience that was being misrepresented and trivialized” (Alarcón, 286). Here, I’ll reintroduce the epithet of “La Chingada.” I feel that rape is the most horrible way in which a woman can be violated, so I feel strongly that such an experience in a woman’s life should never be so “trivialized.” When given as a gift among at least a dozen other native women to Cortés, Malintzín most likely had no choice as to what would happen to her. She had to either cooperate with the conquerors or face a great deal of violence against her person, so she chose the lesser of two evils. Malintzín was very intelligent, and knew many languages that the Spaniards obviously could not know. She used her gift of tongues and outspokenness to survive in a dangerous situation, showing also how strong she was in the face of such danger.


Chicanas did not necessarily focus on Malintzín’s betrayal, though, but used this scapegoat argument to show how her role is misunderstood in Mexico’s patriarchal system, and to glorify her legacy. In Rosario Castellanos poem, “Malinche,” she centers on the characteristics of treachery and victimization associated with Malintzín. “She deconstructs the paradigm, however, so that La Malinche is shown to be the one who is betrayed and victimized instead of the perpetrator” (Cypess, 140). Another author who has held “the revisionist attitude is Adelaida Del Castillo…Her position is one that most Chicana writers would support: that any attack on La Malinche also defames the character of Mexican and Chicana women” (Cypess, 142).


The continuing work by Chicana writers has begun the redefinition of not only Malintzín, but of themselves with respect to their history, sexuality, and value as women. It is a revolutionary new adjustment to the awareness of Mexican society. Malintzín’s legacy began as chroniclers wrote down her story inasmuch as they were able with little or no input from her. She was vilified and put down by her own descendants in the 19th century. Now the third stage in the evolution of Malintzín’s legacy, her redemption and glorification by Chicana writers, is in full swing as Chicanas correct the stereotypes and constructs of the Mexican woman. A new, realistic, role for women will emerge as Mexicans’ consciousness yields to the idea of a woman whom an entire nation remembers as not only a strong woman, but also a survivor.




(1) Since Malintzín gave birth to one of the first mestizos and was more “infamous” than any other woman in the same position, she “may be compared to Eve, especially when she is viewed as the originator of the Mexican people’s fall from grace and the procreator of a ‘fallen’ people”(Alarcón, 279). Thus, miscegenation became a transgression of societal boundaries.
(2) The 1999 edition of Xicoténcatl, published by the University of Texas Press, states the author as anonymous. However, the majority historians agree that Felix Varela is the actual author.
(3) In the 17th century, women did not involve themselves in politics, and were not allowed to vote. The fact that Cortés’ translator was female made her conspicuous during conversations between Cortés and others since men usually took care of politics. Thus, any woman who desired to hold more responsibility than society would allow was considered a traitor because of Malintzín’s role in the conquest of Mexico. “Among people of Mexican descent…anyone who has transgressed the boundaries of perceived group interests and values often has been called a malinche or malinchista” (Alarcón, 279). Even today, Mexicans see Malintzín as a stain on their culture, though it evolved because of her. In “Indigenous Always,” a documentary by Daniel Banda, Mexican citizens reflected this same sentiment. When asked, “Who was La Malinche,” most passer-bys answered that she was a traitor, a betrayer, or a whore.
(4) Since Malintzín was a translator, earning her the alias La Lengua, literally meaning the tongue (Alarcón, 279), her betrayal was elevated to a higher level. Translators have the power to purposefully translate discussions incorrectly, and though there was no evidence of this deed, it became another deception added to her list of crimes.
(5) In spite of this, not only did Dońa Dolores survive the transition of citizenship from Mexican to American, but the lady of the house, Dońa María Petronilla, survived as well. Dońa María Petronilla had herself been quite submissive, a quality taken advantage of by her husband, but by the end of the novel, she had grown rebellious. Since both women had become survivors, this observation leads to the conclusion that outspokenness could lead to success, not just to downfall.
(6) Women often represented land acquisition in 19th century literature, an allusion to Malintzín’s role in the Aztec conquest. In The Squatter and the Don, Clarence would gain the land Mercedes’ father left to her when they wed. Mercedes’ representation of land explains why she was so sought after in the novel. In Caballero, the novel took place during the years when the US had gained over half of Mexico’s territory through the infamous Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Not only was the story set in a disputed tract of land between the Río Nueces and Río Grande, Susanita also represented the acquisition of land through her self-integration into Americano culture through marriage with Robert Warrener, who would be the next person to run the her father’s estate.



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