卡洛斯．富安蒂斯（Carlos Fuentes）

Carlos Fuentes

Carlos Fuentes, man of letters, died on May 15th, aged 83

May 19th 2012 | from the print edition

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EVERY summer holiday when he was at school, Carlos Fuentes would stay with his grandmothers, one in Veracruz, on the steamy Gulf coast, the other from Mazatlán, near the badlands of Sinaloa on the Pacific. The women told the young boy stories, tales of Mexico, of revolution, of peasants who were leaving the land to make great cities, of bandits, of love and lust, of feud and food, of Indians, of Spaniards and baroque Spanish towns in America. He took these stories back with him to Washington, to Santiago, to Buenos Aires, to wherever his father, a Mexican diplomat, was posted (Carlos himself was born in Panama). The solitude of this peripatetic childhood turned the boy into a writer: he began to publish his stories when he was 11, and never stopped until the day he died.
The routine was always the same. He rose early and wrote, in longhand on the right-hand page of large blocks, later correcting on the left-hand page. E-mail he did not use, not even a computer. He was, in the old-fashioned sense, a man of letters. There were some 60 books, novels mainly but plays and essays too, as well as much political commentary and journalism. Afternoons and evenings, whether in Mexico City or London, where in recent decades he lived for part of each year to escape celebrity, were for reading (his tastes were wide, including Wordsworth), the cinema (a lifelong passion), for seeing friends and for seduction, at which he was a master. He was always elegantly dressed, his suits as sharp as his conversation; his verbal thrusts were often delivered with a wicked twinkle in his eye. A dandy, his detractors said, but women loved that in him. He claimed that his conquests included Jean Seberg and Jeanne Moreau, and perhaps they did.
Clearing the air
So prolific was his output that it was inevitably uneven. Some of the early novels will last the best. They are panoramic, richly-textured reflections on Mexican history, its underlying contradictions of world view between Indian and Spaniard and their sometimes awkward melding in mestizaje and in the country’s revolution of 1910-17. “La Región Más Transparente” (translated as “Where the Air is Clear”), his ambitious debut novel set in Mexico City, reflects on the challenge to Mexican identity posed by modernity. “The Death of Artemio Cruz”, published in 1962, chronicles the descent from the idealism of revolution to the cynicism of the long rule of the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) through the life of a politician and newspaper tycoon enriched by graft.

The creative antagonism of the relationship between Spain and America was an obsession for Mr Fuentes, recurring in “Terra Nostra”, a sprawling historical fantasy, and “The Buried Mirror”, an extended essay. The narrator in “Artemio Cruz” imagines in a baroque church

the façade of the Conquest, severe yet jocund, with one foot in the dead Old World and the other in the New, which did not begin here but on the other side of the ocean: the New World arrived when they arrived; façade of austere walls to protect their avaricious, sensual, happy hearts. You will enter the nave, where all that was Spanish will be conquered by the macabre smiling lavishness of Indian saints, angels, and gods.

Mr Fuentes was a leading figure in the Latin American literary boom of the 1960s and 1970s, a friend of both Gabriel García Márquez and Mario Vargas Llosa (as well as of Octavio Paz until their relationship was destroyed by an intemperate attack on Mr Fuentes in Mr Paz’s literary magazine). Many thought it unjust that he alone of these four did not receive the Nobel prize.
He was no magical realist. His inspirations were Cervantes and Borges. His language was complex. He employed multiple voices and styles. His upbringing in two cultures, Latin American and Anglo-Saxon, made him both a Mexican and a universal writer.

He was a man of the left, but a democratic one. He was initially enthusiastic about both the Cuban revolution and the Sandinistas in Nicaragua, but later criticised their authoritarianism. He had no time for Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez, calling him a “tropical Mussolini”.

His later years were marked by personal tragedy. Both his children with Silvia Lemus, his second wife who was a television presenter, died before him, one of complications from haemophilia and the other from drug addiction. As Mexico descended into drug-related violence, his later novels became darker. “La Voluntad y La Fortuna” (“Destiny and Desire”) begins with the musings of a severed head, floating in the Pacific. He dismissed Enrique Peña Nieto, the PRI candidate and front-runner in Mexico’s presidential election, due on July 1st, as a lightweight, unequal to the country’s problems.

Mr Fuentes was at home in Europe, New York and Mexico. But he still felt the pull of Veracruz, where Cortes and the Spaniards first landed. When asked in 2009 to write an article about his favourite museum for Intelligent Life, our sister magazine, he instantly offered to return to the Museum of Anthropology in Xalapa, the state capital, with its colossal Olmec stone heads and laughing figurines, the union of the sacred and the human. Veracruz, he declared, was “where I belong”.

Veracruz Puerto de Veracruz
—  City and municipality  —
Coat of arms

Carlos Fuentes, Mexican Man of Letters, Dies at 83

Daniel Aguilar/Reuters

Carlos Fuentes at his Mexico City home in 2003.

By ANTHONY DePALMA

Published: May 15, 2012

Carlos Fuentes, Mexico’s elegant public intellectual and grand man of letters, whose panoramic novels captured the complicated essence of his country’s history for readers around the world, died on Tuesday in Mexico City. He was 83.

His death was confirmed by Julio Ortega, his biographer and a professor of Hispanic studies at Brown University, where Mr. Fuentes taught for several years. He died at the Angeles del Pedregal hospital after his doctor, Arturo Ballesteros, found him in shock in his Mexico City home, The Associated Press reported. The doctor told reporters that Mr. Fuentes had had an internal hemorrhage. 

Mr. Fuentes was one of the most admired writers in the Spanish-speaking world, a catalyst, along with Gabriel García Márquez, Mario Vargas Llosa and Julio Cortázar, of the explosion of Latin American literature in the 1960s and ’70s, known as El Boom. He wrote plays, short stories, political nonfiction and novels, many of them chronicles of tangled love. 

Mr. Fuentes received wide recognition in the United States in 1985 with his novel “The Old Gringo,” a convoluted tale about the American writer Ambrose Bierce, who disappeared during the Mexican Revolution. It was the first book by a Mexican novelist to become a best seller north of the border, and it was made into a 1989 film starring Gregory Peck and Jane Fonda.

In the tradition of Latin American writers, Mr. Fuentes was politically engaged, writing magazine, newspaper and journal articles that criticized the Mexican government during the long period of sometimes repressive single-party rule that ended in 2000 with the election of an opposition candidate, Vicente Fox Quesada. 

Mr. Fuentes was more ideological than political. He tended to embrace justice and basic human rights regardless of political labels. He supported Fidel Castro’s revolution in Cuba, but turned against it as Mr. Castro became increasingly authoritarian. He sympathized with Indian rebels in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas and skewered the administration of George W. Bush over its antiterrorism tactics and immigration policies, calling them unduly harsh.

He was also critical of Venezuela’s leftist leader, Hugo Chávez, however, calling him a “tropical Mussolini,” and of his own country’s failure to stem its rampant drug violence. On the day he died the newspaper Reforma published a hopeful essay by him on the change of power in France. 

Mr. Fuentes was appointed the Mexican ambassador to France in 1975, but he resigned two years later to protest the appointment of Gustavo Díaz Ordaz as ambassador to Spain. Mr. Díaz Ordaz had been president of Mexico in 1968 when Mexican troops opened fire on student protesters in Mexico City. 

But it was mainly through his literature, Mr. Fuentes believed, that he could make his voice heard, and he did so prolifically and inventively, tracing the history of modern Mexico in layered stories that also explored universal themes of love, memory and death. In “The Death of Artemio Cruz,” a 1962 novel that many call his masterpiece, his title character, an ailing newspaper baron confined to his bed, looks back at his climb out of poverty and his heroic exploits in the Mexican Revolution, concluding that it had failed in its promise of a more egalitarian society. 

His novels remained ambitious and topical. His last, “Destiny and Desire” (2011), is a sprawling work that Michael Wood, writing in The New York Times Book Review, described as “not exactly a parody of ‘War and Peace,’ but certainly a spectral, playful revision of the idea of a novel that competes with history.” 

He added, “It offers lavish quantities of comedy, satire, allegory, fantasy and brilliant political commentary; makes coded allusions to recognizable celebrities like the communications magnate Carlos Slim; evokes the work of Spinoza and Machiavelli; includes ghosts, graves, murders, a voluble flying prophet and a talking severed head.” 

The severed head had fallen victim to Mexico’s drug-gang wars, which Mr. Fuentes believed pose an ever-graver threat to Mexican society. The head speaks in darkly comic tones.

“I speak of my body because I’ve lost it,” the character says, then adds: “I am a 27-year-old man, one meter seventy-eight centimeters tall. Every morning I look at myself naked in my bathroom mirror and caress my cheeks in anticipation of the daily ceremony: Shave my beard and upper lip, provoke a strong response with Jean-Marie Farina cologne on my face, resign myself to combing black, thick, untamable hair. Close my eyes. Deny to my face and head the central role my death will be certain to give them. Concentrate instead on my body. The trunk that is going to be separated from my head. The body that occupies me from my neck to my extremities, covered in skin the color of pale cinnamon and tipped with nails that will continue to grow for hours and days after death, as if they wanted to scratch at the lid of the coffin and shout I’m here, I’m still alive, you made a mistake when you buried me.” 

Though Mr. Fuentes wrote in just about every genre, including opera (a 2008 work inspired by the life of Gen. Antonio López de Santa Anna, the wooden-legged president of Mexico during the Texas Revolution), he declined to write an autobiography. 

“One puts off the biography like you put off death,” he once said. “To write an autobiography is to etch the words on your own gravestone.” 

Carlos Fuentes was born on Nov. 11, 1928, in Panama, the son of Berta Macías and Rafael Fuentes, a member of Mexico’s diplomatic corps. As his father moved among Mexican embassies, Mr. Fuentes spent his early childhood in several South American countries. Then, in 1936, the family was transferred to Washington, where Mr. Fuentes learned to speak English fluently while enrolled in a public school. 

In 1940 the family was transferred again, this time to Santiago, Chile, where he began to experiment with writing. In an interview with The Times in 1985, Mr. Fuentes said he first had to decide “whether to write in the language of my father or the language of my teachers.” He chose Spanish, he said, because he believed that it offered more flexibility than English. There was also a practical reason. English, he said, “with a long and uninterrupted literary tradition, did not need one more writer.” 

He was 16 when his family finally returned to Mexico. He knew his homeland through the stories that his grandmothers had told during the summers he spent with them. 

“I think I became a writer because I heard those stories,” he said in 2006 in an interview with the Academy of Achievement, a nonprofit organization in Washington. His grandmothers fascinated him with their tales of bandits, revolution and reckless love. “They had the whole storehouse of the past in their heads and hearts,” Mr. Fuentes said. “So this was, for me, very fascinating, this relationship with my two grannies — the two authors of my books, really.”

When he told his family that he wanted to be a writer, his father was encouraging, but insisted that he also study law, which he did in Mexico and Switzerland. 

After completing his degree, Mr. Fuentes entered Mexico’s diplomatic service, while also carving out time for his fiction. His first novel, “Where the Air Is Clear,” was published in 1958 when he turned 30. It was a literary sensation, mixing biting social commentary with interior monologues and portrayals of the subconscious. His reputation established, Mr. Fuentes left government service to devote all his energies to writing. 

As an author, he said, he did not spend much time rewriting and never suffered from writer’s block. He liked to write on the right-hand pages of lined notebooks, making changes and corrections on the left-hand pages before sending a manuscript to be typed.

Professor Ortega called Mr. Fuentes “an unleashed cultural force” who avoided some of the trappings of literary celebrity. In a retrospective book that he wrote about Mr. Fuentes’s life when the writer turned 80 in 2008, Mr. Ortega wrote, “Fuentes detests the literary life, its obligations and commitments.” 

“He hasn’t created his own group, and he belongs neither to parties nor ideologies,” Mr. Ortega added. “He isn’t controlled by either the power of the state nor the power of the market.”

Mr. Fuentes’s independent thought and reputation for supporting leftist causes led to his being denied visas to enter the United States in the early 1960s. When he was refused permission to come to New York in 1963 for a presentation of an English translation of one of his books, he reacted angrily, saying, “The real bombs are my books, not me.” 

Congress intervened in 1967, and the restrictions against him were lifted. Later he traveled to the United States frequently, teaching at several Ivy League universities. 

Mr. Fuentes is survived by his wife, Silvia Lemus, and a daughter, Cecilia, by a previous marriage to the actress Rita Macedo, who died in 1993. Two children from his marriage to Ms. Lemus, Carlos and Natasha, both died of illness before they were 30. 

For much of his career Mr. Fuentes competed for recognition and influence in Mexico and abroad with another titan of Mexican letters, the poet Octavio Paz. Mr. Fuentes received the National Order of Merit, France’s highest civilian award given to a foreigner; Spain’s Prince of Asturias Award for literature in 1994; and, in 1987, the Cervantes Prize, the Spanish-speaking world’s highest literary honor. Mr. Paz, however, won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1990. Mr. Fuentes, a perennial on the shortlist for the honor, never did. 

The two became friends in 1950, when Mr. Paz published his landmark work on Mexican identity, “The Labyrinth of Solitude.” They worked together on several literary projects. But by the mid-1980s their political opinions had started to differ. Mr. Fuentes supported the Sandinistas, the leftist rebel group in Nicaragua, but Mr. Paz, who had more conservative views, condemned them. Then, in 1988, the literary magazine Vuelta, which Mr. Paz directed, published an article fiercely critical of Mr. Fuentes, accusing him of lacking true Mexican identity. That set off an often public feud that lasted until Mr. Paz died in 1998. Neither man apologized, diminishing the reputations of both. 

Still, in his later years, Mr. Fuentes became an elder statesman of international letters. On his 80th birthday hundreds gathered at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to celebrate his life and work. He was introduced by Rubén Beltrán, the consul general of Mexico in New York at the time. 

“To speak about Carlos Fuentes is to engage inexorably in Mexican history and culture,” Mr. Beltrán said. “We cannot fathom a debate on Mexican literary and humanistic traditions in which his name and work are absent.”

'Happy Families: Stories'

By CARLOS FUENTES
Reviewed by FRANCINE PROSE

Tales of bad fathers, aging wives, oppressed peasants and ungrateful children, set in Mexico. 

【關於本書】 當水、土、風、火的太陽消逝…… 熔史詩．傳奇．小說於一爐的巔峰之作 千禧鉅獻，經典登場 鄭樹森教授隆重推薦．張淑英教授專文導讀．作家尉任之獨家專訪 是不是當墨西哥大地上長起第一株玉米苗時，「墨西哥」的歷史就開始了？ 誕生、死亡和新來臨的傳承深植在墨西哥的精神。當我們記得我們曾經為何，我們才能創造一個不會讓我們迷失的未來。這就是我們的時代，就是當下。 一個屬於墨西哥第五個太陽的關鍵時刻。—卡洛斯‧富安蒂斯 太陽在世界的天空燃燒並熄滅，毀滅與更新周而復始，但在所有這些太陽之中，有某種東西一直在墨西哥閃光，熾熱。 卡洛斯‧富安蒂斯富有創造力的想像，使他的歷史書和小說達到一種深刻和富有意義地真實的程度，克里奧爾人，印第安人，外來殖民，不論是受害者還是施害者，暴君還是革命者，他們的聲音在這本書中響著，這是一種迫切的聲音，無所顧忌的聲音。—原西班牙文書介 《墨西哥的五個太陽》猶如資深歌手的暢銷曲精選集，宛若得終身成就獎的畢生重要事蹟回顧，像「歷史上的今天」銘刻過往的記憶和紀事，這本二十五個篇章的作品匯集了富安蒂斯從 26 歲（1954年）寫到 71 歲（1999年）其中 16 部作品的節選，包括經典小說如《最明淨的地區》、《阿爾特米奧‧克魯斯之死》、《與蘿拉‧迪亞茲共度的歲月》；短篇敘事如《柑橘樹》、《玻璃邊境》；散文如《戴面具的日子》、《埋掉的鏡子》、《新的墨西哥時代》和戲劇《所有的貓都是混血兒》等文類。16 部作品的若干篇章和題名重新排列組合，編織出墨西哥的千年史。—台大外系教授 張淑英
【關於作者】        卡洛斯．富安蒂斯（Carlos Fuentes），墨西哥小說家、散文家兼評論家。1928年生於墨西哥城，是與馬奎斯、尤薩等作家齊名的當代重量級拉美作家，作品的主題多在探討墨西哥的文化認同與殖民歷史。        富安蒂斯四歲開始學習英文，十二、三歲即開始創作及發表短篇小說，1950年畢業於墨西哥大學後，赴日內瓦深造，並在國際勞工組織工作，開啟往後的外交官生涯。        他利用公餘從事創作，1954年第一部短篇小說集《戴面具的日子》出版，引起文壇注意；1958年第一部長篇小說《最明淨的地區》（La region mas transparente）問世，更是一舉成名。1962年出版的《克魯茲之死》（The Death of Artemio Cruz），成為他的代表做，並為他贏得國際聲譽。        作品散見於《紐約時報》、《浮華》、《洛杉磯時報書評版》、《華盛頓郵報》等重量級報刊。其他的作品還包括《我們的土地》、《我相信》（En esto creo）及《不安的同伴》（Inquieta compania）等近三十部。        曾獲墨西哥最高榮譽文學獎項（Romulo Gallegos Prize）、西班牙最高榮譽文學獎（塞萬提斯文學獎，Cervantes Prize），以及西班牙亞斯都利亞親王獎文學獎（Principe de Asturias Prize for Literature）。

仙人掌的果實--月桂與聖櫟的交戰  ◎張淑英 ------------------------------------------- 《鷹的王座》(La silla del águila)，墨西哥小說家富恩特斯(Carlos Fuentes, 1928~) 的第二十三部小說，也是他的「時間世紀」系列中列為「政治時間」三部曲的代表作。這部完成於2003年的作品，敘述時光「回到未來」，前瞻到 2020年的墨西哥的政局，而生活方式則倒帶回到過去——彷彿十九世紀工業革命之前，一切科技、機械尚未起飛時期。小說以七十封書信耙梳，由十六個要角書寫，十八位收信人，貫穿墨西哥的過去、當下與未來的生態。小說雖然是想像未來，佈局未來的危機和發展路徑，但是歷史的實際樣貌與軌跡讓富恩特斯的未來世界有了強有力的根基和主體，在鑑往知來的憂心與針砭當中，有著深沈的人文思索與反省。富恩特斯挖掘野心貪婪深處隱藏的那塊最明淨澄澈的良知區域（例如，第五十封、第六十九封信），提供政治人物沈澱與警惕的明鏡。另一方面，書信體的應用，讓小說的鋪陳有了較大的彈性和空間，以當時年近七秩又五（如今八旬）的富恩特斯而言，思維與書寫從心所欲，游刃有餘，不再設限於四十餘年前的力作《最明淨的地區》（La región más transparente，1958）或《克魯茲之死》（La muerte de Artemio Cruz，1962）那種縝密嚴謹且艱深的脈絡。書寫的對象——第二人稱的「你/妳/您」則更明確簡潔，不像短篇小說《奧拉》(Aura, 1962)以「你/妳」敘述、故佈疑陣的技巧，營造光怪詭譎的氛圍，讓讀者費疑猜。從文類結構角度盱衡，似應致力復甦手筆書寫的傳統，避免其消長式微。 書信體，這個從希臘羅馬時期便已發皇的文類，提供書寫者和閱讀者一種「缺席的全知」的向度，一種假體物件（prosthesis）的真實價值。文藝復興時期諸多知名文人的作品泰半含括書信集。十八世紀啟蒙時期，它是政界聞人、思想家闡述理念的媒介，而十九世紀寫實主義和自然主義時期，書信體更是蔚為風尚，有所謂文人的「一八六八年代」，閱讀作家的書信乃是深入瞭解其人其事的要件。二十世紀末、二十一世紀初書信則宛如強弩之末。1998年葡萄牙諾貝爾文學獎得主薩拉馬戈也曾憂心「書 / 信」之不復存在。他問：「誰的眼淚會滴在電腦螢幕上？」指出筆墨與扉頁磨蹭之間，始能牽動情感的交流與聯繫。《鷹的王座》裡的2020年，科技必然更上層樓，但是有可能短路或斷路。墨西哥迎迓前廳那隻白頭海鵰——霸權美利堅——成了後院第一進落: 「我們可以選擇朋友，但是無法挑選鄰居」。小說預設美墨扞挌，美國阻斷所有墨西哥的通訊系統，致使溝通的媒介僅剩下書寫郵遞或信使轉達一途，透過七十封信箋，從私領域的情感延展到公領域的企圖心，紅塵男女都在權力、色欲與金錢的漩渦中翻滾。 《鷹的王座》象徵政治最高執掌，權力的至高點，也指涉了墨西哥歷史的根源。古阿茲特克傳說裡，印第安人往南遷徙時，抵達一處湖中島，見到了鷹叼蛇停歇在仙人掌上的景象，他們遵循太陽神的指示，在此處落腳，建立了特諾奇蘭（Tenochtitlán），也就是今日的墨西哥城，開啟了阿茲特克帝國與文明。首都之地的王座便是權力競逐更迭的舞台。鷹座（好似不同範疇或文化的王冠、龍袍、權杖、兵符、玉/御璽…），是唯我獨尊的象徵，像春藥一般，一旦與身體結合，「假體」便成為主宰，任人隨之瘋狂。世界上國徽以鷹為圖騰者十餘國，國旗中有鷹的圖案者也有四個國家（埃及、摩爾多瓦、阿爾巴尼亞和墨西哥），墨西哥的國徽經過八次修改，最具權威和霸氣：鷹羽翼豐滿，振翅狀，尖喙噬蛇，一爪踩踏仙人掌，一爪緊抓蛇身，蓄勢作攻擊狀，湖下的半圓形，一邊是月桂樹，一邊是聖櫟樹。這個圖騰意味要掌權，就要攻敵，要勝利榮耀（月桂），就可能犧牲挫敗（聖櫟）。從這個國徽的詮釋就不難理解《鷹的王座》的主題。 除了書信體的復古，小說情節也擬仿十九世紀法國小說家大仲馬《基督山恩仇記》的復仇題材，以及《三劍客》若干小說人物的性格。大仲馬這兩部小說在西語文學暢銷作品裡，前有貝雷茲‧雷維特(Arturo Pérez-Reverte，1951～)的《大仲馬俱樂部》（El club Dumas，1993）明顯的互文書寫，十年後有富恩特斯的《鷹的王座》，卻同時在書市發光，誠如尤薩(Mario Vargas Llosa, 1936~)所說：「當世界越向科技文明邁進時，人類的閱讀、文學的心靈與記憶越隱遁到十九世紀的寫實與自然」。《鷹的王座》裡兩大陣營，各懷鬼胎，半路竟然殺出諸多程咬金，彼此處心積慮，道高一尺，魔高一丈。在位的總統病入膏肓，周遭權貴摩拳擦掌，伺機改選奪權。流亡的總統結集舊時黨羽，返國意圖復辟; 軍警首長聯手，試圖以警力武力制勝;一介平民，輾轉流離，化名掩飾身分的青年野心勃勃，竟是仕宦之後;號稱「智囊塞內加」的國策顧問束手無策;行政體系之外，國會議長和女眾議員也各有盤算;風情萬種的瑪利亞無異是蛇蠍美人米萊迪的化身，行政首長塔西托（其名涵意雖是「沈默是金」，野心卻不言可喻），倒像是小丑形的紅衣主教黎塞留；尼高拉斯則似反派的達太安。《三劍客》裡四個火槍手保護了國王王后，重挫弄臣的陰謀，《鷹的王座》則是鬩牆互鬥，分崩離析，猛禽如鷹不是踩在岩石上，而是仙人掌，終也會失足跌落湖心。每個耍狠的人乍看都像是鳥瞰全局，操作偶戲的主人，實則都像是台上被吊著繩索的傀儡。 權力、色欲、金錢，七十封信箋在這三角鎖鍊中循環，前半部宛如政治紀事，一部官場現形記，道盡政治的迂腐哲學，但極為受用的金科玉律。「沒有腐敗的肥油，就沒有運轉正常的政府」，一般咸認這是墨西哥總統六年制，不得連選連任的致命傷;「感恩戴德是政治上的稀有錢幣，忘恩負義是每天要用的零錢」，說明政治只問利益，不談仁義;「美麗的壞處是註定你走向性交;性交的壞處是，雖然快樂，可是不能把壞消息變成好消息」，驗證美人記誘敵只會招惹佳人人頭落地;「政治就是慢性自殺」，卻無人怕死，個個趨之若鶩。這些在不同信箋，出自不同人士筆下的體認，昭示著人類共同的宿命和嗔癡。前四十三封書信撒網佈局，要角畢現，閱讀脈絡並無明顯起承轉合，後半段則漸次進入小說的意境和情節的編織。展讀《鷹的王座》猶如掃瞄墨西哥政壇領導人的肖像。例如，獨立後施行二十二年獨裁政權（1833-1855）的聖塔安納總統（Antonio López de Santa Anna）;跨世紀獨裁達三十年（1877-1880;1884-1911）的波菲里奧‧迪亞斯總統（Porfirio Díaz）; 第一位原住民總統，確立共和體制，被授勳稱為「美洲的功臣」的貝尼托‧華雷斯 (Benito Juárez，1858-64;1858-72);墨西哥史上最受人民愛戴的卡德納斯總統（Lázaro Cárdenas，1934-40在位），他的農業改革、石油國有化政策奠定墨西哥農業、經濟大業。墨西哥歷史上一黨獨大近七十年（1929-1997）的革命制度黨（PRI），卡德納斯被視為是唯一沒有從這個黨獲利的卸任總統，在位時並且進行黨的組織再造。 玩政治的男人有成有敗，玩政治的女人似乎命定挫敗。全書運籌帷幄的主角顯然是瑪利亞。富安特斯作品裡女性一貫的特質在瑪利亞身上具現：她是「雙面」嬌娃，也是梅杜莎; 有著致命的吸引力的熟女，一個掌握毀滅力量的女神，一個冷心冷面、將真愛埋葬在墳墓的豪放女。她想要恢復家族昔日的權勢和威望，但是她那無辜的唐氏症兒，獨自玩耍，無人探望的孤獨，彷彿馬奎斯《百年孤寂》那個長出豬尾巴，被螞蟻吃掉的嬰孩，預示她所覬覦「被判定在地球上是沒有第二次機會的」。鷹的王座是性與政治的獄台，富恩特斯筆下「說愛情太沈重」，沒有純真的愛情，除了杜爾塞（「杜爾塞」(Dulce)即甜蜜之意），守候著和阿茲特克名君一樣名字的蒙特祖瑪，其他人，為了那張老鷹的椅子，都背叛了愛人/同志。小說裡，2020年的美國是一位黑人女總統，屆時的墨西哥會是虛構中的羅倫索‧特蘭那般「無為」而治嗎？富恩特斯或許沒有絕望，卻帶著諷刺的憂鬱。
		書名：鷹的王座 作者：卡洛斯‧富安蒂斯(Carlos Fuentes) 譯者：趙德明 「鷹」是墨西哥國旗上的圖騰，「鷹的王座」顧名思義，象徵權力頂峰的總統寶座。然而鷹雖有王者之姿，畢竟是嗜血的猛禽，在角逐總統大位的過程中，免不了有一番殘酷的鬥爭。在這本未來式的政治小說裡，藉由七十封書信，勾織出各路人馬為爭奪總統寶座，所進行的一連串爾虞我詐的血腥鬥爭，並深入探討墨西哥的歷史、文化與民族性。讀者有如偷窺者般，透過一封封私人書信，窺視每個人內心的情慾、愚昧、貪婪、自私以及不可告人的秘密，也藉此揭開一連串充滿曖昧、欺騙、相互利用、背叛的複雜關係與政壇醜聞。情節曲折起伏，處處預留伏筆，在一樁樁處心積慮的密謀背後，原來早有一項精心籌劃的陰謀，等待眾人掉入陷井。不到最後，不知鹿死誰手……。 【作者簡介】卡洛斯．富安蒂斯(Carlos Fuentes) 1928年生於墨西哥，他是墨西哥小說家，與馬奎斯、尤薩等作家同屬魔幻寫實風格的拉丁美洲作者，創作核心著重於墨西哥的文化認同與殖民歷史。富安蒂斯成長於美國、智利與阿根廷，曾隨父母遊歷南北美洲與歐洲，是墨西哥有名的作家與評論家。曾於1975至77年之間擔任墨西哥駐法國大使。他曾獲墨西哥最高榮譽文學獎項（Romulo Gallegos Prize）、西班牙最高榮譽文學獎（塞萬提斯文學獎，Cervantes Prize），西班牙亞斯都利亞親王獎文學獎得主（Principe de Asturias Prize for Literature）（亨利米勒、多麗絲．萊辛皆曾獲此獎）。作品散見於《紐約時報》、《浮華》、《洛杉磯時報書評版》、《華盛頓郵報》等重量報刊，著作有二十多部，知名魔幻寫實作品有：《克魯茲之死》（The Death of Artemio Cruz）、《最透明的地區》（La region mas transparente） ，散文作品《戴面具的日子》描寫墨西哥節慶與民族性（Los dias enmascarados），最新著作為《不安的同伴》（Inquieta compania）。