Fictions of the Trans-American Imaginary in Edward Judson's Magdalena, The Beautiful Mexican Maid

In “Fictions of the Trans-American Imaginary,” Moya and Saldívar explore new beginnings for the field of American Literature through what they term the “trans-American imaginary.” Equivalent to Alemán’s “inter-American” approach, the trans-American imaginary allows for a re-thinking of what many scholars in American Literature came to view and accept as the “exceptionality of the American experience” (4) as portrayed in the U.S. literary canon. According to Moya and Saldívar, the trans-American approach seeks to

recognize the influence on literature of competing nationalisms (the existence and stubborn persistence of regional voices, popular styles, or minority group identifications) within the borders of the nation. But is also the case that much American Literature responds to ideological pressures from outside the geopolitical borders of the sovereign United States. (4)

They explain that this approach looks for contact zones, and “boundary-crossings” within and outside of the national fictions, with an emphasis on within and outside (as suggested by their use of italics). In other words, this framework can not only be applied to literary fictions outside and in relation to the U.S., but also to American texts which have been produced as a response to U.S. cross-language and cultural interactions. Therefore this approach expands and complicates our understandings of American identities, and includes texts which reveal various levels of hybridity, transculturismo, and translingualism. It crosses both geopolitical and imaginary borders.

In addition, while this framework seeks to expand our knowledge of an American literary canon, it also recognizes the pushing and pulling forces of imagined nationalisms, and their dystopias as “constructed within and from out of utopias” in various U.S. localized fictions (Moya and Saldívar 9, 16).Thus, the trans-American framework becomes a suitable lens to explore works such as, Edward Judson’s Magdalena, The Beautiful Mexican Maid. Judson’s novelette focuses on Magdalena, a Mexican woman of Spanish descent, who falls in love with Charles Brackett, an American soldier of Spanish descent, at the rise of the U.S.-Mexico War. Judson localizes his fiction at the Texas, US-Mexico border and travels as far as Orizaba, Vera Cruz in Mexico. He does so in order to create a fictional tale of the War and the lives of those who occupied the “borderlands.”

*It is important to note that Judson places Charles within the national boundaries by making him an American citizen, and outside by giving him a Spanish heritage. In addition, he places Magdalena in similar terms by making her a Mexican national, but also the daughter of European immigrants. Thus both Charles and Magdalena are of European heritage and “creole” children of immigrants.

The trans-American lens is not only suitable to Judson’s text because it deals with the borderlands, but also because it is a nationalistic text produced in response to the interests of the readers. Johanseen notes, “[novelette authors like Judson] were not artists but professional writers—hacks—whose talents were shaped by the demands of the marketplace” (To the Halls of the Montezumas: A War Literature 189). As Moya and Saldívar argue,

national identities are specific local knowledges. To be an American in south Texas is therefore different from being and American New England, even though there may be continuity between the two locally specific claims to the national identity of “American.” In the Southwest, to be an American means, among other things, not being Mexican. Conversely, in New England being an American has nothing to do with no being English, let alone Mexican […] Mexican is irrelevant for how Americans in the Northeast understand and interpret their own “American” identity. (16)

With this framework in mind, I want to discuss two moments in the narrative which demonstrate the production of the “trans-American imaginary.”

            The first moment occurs early in the narrative. General Taylor is looking for someone who can serve as a spy but will not betray the country. He sends for Captain Walker and, Walker recommends Charles Brackett. General Taylor poses his proposition in the following manner, “Not that I doubt either your bravery or your tact, but you are not dark enough, nor look sufficiently like a Mexican. I must have a man whose looks and knowledge of the language will enable him to pass for a native of Mexico,” Walker then says that Brackett is the right person for the job because he speaks Spanish and is “full as dark” (26). General Taylor then hesitates, and asks,

“Is he faithful, will not his Spanish blood, cause him to lean toward the other side a little?” “If to hate the Mexicans as few can hate; if to thirst for their blood, as the desert thirst for the dews of night; if to live under the weight of a fearful oath to revenge and outrage mother and sister, whose corpses are now moldering in a bloody grave near San Jacinto, will ensure his faith to us, then feel secure that Charles Brackett will never prove a traitor.” (26)

This passage demonstrates that in Judson’s imaginary fiction Americans of Mexican and Spanish descent, like Charles Brackett, have been a part of the Southwest history since before the time of the U.S.-Mexico War. However, they have also been categorized based on the localized competing nationalisms and long established racial hierarchies. This can be seen through the questions about Brackett’s phenotype and whether or not he will be faithful. What is most interesting to notice here is Captain Walker’s response as to why Charles won’t betray them, he says that Charles’s promise to avenge his mother’s and sister’s death will guarantee his loyalty. This goes back to Streeby’s idea of consensus and nationalism, but also to Moya and Saldivar’s point about inside and outside, and dystopias within utopia. So Charles’s loyalty is a form of U.S. nationalism and utopia of a growing and faithful nation, but also one with justified means for violence. This type of nationalism—which justifies violence—strongly  resembles white supremacy, functioning within the state borders, but in response to economic and political conditions of contraction, minority migration, and scapegoating in times of war.

            The second passage which demonstrates Judson’s trans-imaginary is his choice to have Magdalena sing in “Spanish” (32, 33, 53). Magdalena sings, “Se fue el hechizo, Del alma mia, Y mi alegnia Se fué también” (53). The first time Magdalena sings, Alemán and Streeby note that Judson’s Spanish is “imprecise” (290), I would add that, it is English influenced, and written as heard from an Anglophone range. But Judson’s use of Spanish reveals much more than his developing writing skills (in Spanish). His use of Spanish demonstrates what would have been expected from his readership, and the kinds of influences he interpreted as Mexican or Spanish (From Spain, not Latin America). These passages demonstrate the complexities of the American identity as seen through “spelling” the trans-American imaginary. One could also argue that Judson is engaging in translingualism—and to argue this I would end up writing an entire other blog, so I am happy to discuss this in class. One other thing I did not get to discuss here, but would love to talk about in class is how these “hybrid” identities are in flux. For example, Magdalena starts out as Mexican, then moves to Spanish, and then becomes quasi-American and then Spanish and Mexican again.