I, the Supreme by Augusto Roa Bastos

First published:Yo, el Supremo, 1974 (English translation, 1986)

Type of plot: Historical

Time of work: 1800-1840

Locale: Asunción, Paraguay

Principal Characters:

• José Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia (Dr. Francia), the champion of Paraguayan independence from Spain and the new country’s first dictator
• Policarpo Patiño, the dictator’s naïve confidential secretary
• Juan Parish Robertson, an English adventurer and representative of British interests in the region
• Pilar the Black, the dictator’s trusted personal valet and general servant
• General Manuel Belgrano, an Argentine general sent first to annex Paraguay by force, then to negotiate an alliance through diplomacy
• Antonio Manuel Correia da Camara, a Brazilian envoy sent to negotiate an alliance
• Bernardo Velazco, the colonial governor of the province of Paraguay, enemy and detractor of Francia
• Sultan, the dictator’s republican dog, both companion and critic

The Novel

I, the Supreme offers a fictionalized account of the key events and motives behind the nineteenth century dictatorship of Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia (also known as Dr. Francia), who governed in Paraguay from 1814 until his death in 1840. In the novel, Augusto Roa Bastos presents a revision of the accepted interpretations of this period in history, analyzing not only the lingering effects on Paraguay but also the traditional notions of historical writing as the repository of objective truth.

Although I, the Supreme is considered a novel, it exhibits few of the traditional characteristics of the genre. There is, in fact, no sense of logical continuity that could constitute a plot, and no single voice that could be considered to narrate events. Indeed, the book is essentially a juxtaposition of different, and frequently contradictory, conversations, monologues, myths, journal entries, circulars, letters, historical documents, footnotes, and anonymous commentaries, all brought together by an unidentified, ostensibly impartial “compiler.” This compiler, who replaces both the traditional narrator and the concept of the author, selects, orders, and presents the diverse fragments that comprise I, the Supreme. While the novel is predominantly fictional, many of the incorporated texts are taken from authentic historical sources, the value and veracity of which the reader is forced to judge as the novel unfolds.

Besides rejecting the traditional notions of narrator and narrative plot, the novel also eliminates the concept of chronological time. Past, present, and future all merge into a sense of permanent timelessness. The fictional dictator discusses his death and burial as if it were already past, and he argues with historians not yet born and texts not yet written. At other times, two events occurring at vastly different times are telescoped into one moment and presented as simultaneous. This eternal present is emphasized by the insertion of a variety of both European and native Paraguayan myths into historical events as if they were part of the reality being narrated. As a result, the novel offers no progression but rather functions within the timeless dimension of myth.

Insofar as the events of I, the Supreme can be said to be located in space and time, the majority of the text is set in the dictator’s office and personal quarters in the national palace during the last few months of his life. The novel begins with the appearance on the door of the main cathedral in Asunción of a lampooned dictatorial decree condemning the dictator to death, dismemberment, and oblivion. The outraged Francia, now isolated, ill, and both politically and physically powerless, defends himself and his policies against the judgment of posterity. The rest of the novel consists of this defense before the judge, represented by the reader. Francia’s only companion in this enterprise is his naïve personal secretary, Policarpo Patiño, who serves primarily as a scribe taking dictation and as an audience for the dictator’s lengthy ramblings and self-justifications. The central action of the text revolves around their extended discussions and arguments on a variety of topics, ranging from real and imagined events to philosophy, writing, and language. A large portion of this dialogue is devoted to the dictation of a “Perpetual Circular,” in which Francia recounts his version of events and his ideas on the nation and power. The dialogue and dictation are continuously interrupted by excerpts from the dictator’s personal diary, which provide a more intimate self-analysis and critique. Interspersed with this, the reader frequently encounters documents written by the dictator’s contemporaries and by future historians; these documents serve as points of departure for further debate between the dictator, his secretary, and his conscience. In this way, all the major events in the novel are narrated, either by the two main characters or by the different historians and historical documents quoted.

Eventually, as the fictional Francia approaches death and the novel becomes increasingly fragmented, the voices of denunciation become stronger and more heavily judgmental. Conversely, the dictator’s defense gradually disintegrates until it joins with the detractors and emerges as a self-condemnation. The novel ends abruptly in incoherence, in the middle of a sentence, which corresponds presumably to Francia’s physical demise. The “compiler” does provide a curious postmortem to the novel, however, in the form of an appendix of documents that attempt to pinpoint the final resting place of the dictator’s bones. The results of the scientific investigation, like those of the novel itself, are inconclusive and only serve to underscore the unsatisfactory nature of any written text. The reader is left with a sense of incompletion and the awareness that the issues presented are left unresolved. In this way, I, the Supreme is deliberately open-ended so that the debate can continue in the reader’s mind.

The Characters

Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia (Dr. Francia) is clearly the central figure of I, the Supreme. He is merely a voice in the text, an essence rather than concrete presence; he is never described physically. This essence, however, is extremely ambiguous, since it is formed from the different points of view in the novel. Ultimately, he emerges as a lonely, impotent, isolated, sick old man on his deathbed, raging to hang onto the power he formerly possessed and to justify his actions for posterity. The only power left to him is that of speech, and he attempts to use it to manipulate the reader’s attitudes in the novel. Unfortunately, he becomes trapped in his own contradictions and dies frustrated and unredeemed by history.

Policarpo Patiño is the dictator’s naïve personal secretary and constant companion. Like Francia, he is a disembodied voice in the text, portrayed as ignorant, simpleminded, extremely credulous, and superstitious. He serves as a kind of Sancho Panza to the dictator’s philosophical Don Quixote, a foil for his constant ramblings, self-justifications, and desire to “dictate.”

Juan Parish Robertson is a fictionalized reconstruction of a historical character. Presented through the dictator’s eyes, he represents everything that is negative about British colonialism, specifically the desire to make a fortune at the expense of the inferior colonials. An entrepreneurial adventurer, he is portrayed as weak and hypocritical, and he eventually betrays the dictator who had befriended him and his brother, Roberto. Upon their return to England, the two brothers write a scathing attack on their former benefactor, disguised as an account of their voyage and entitled Letters from Paraguay. The inclusion of excerpts in the text serves in the construction of the dictator’s ambiguity.

Pilar the Black is the dictator’s trusted personal valet, general servant, and food taster. He eventually betrays his master and is put to death for treason. Curiously, there are two vastly different versions of his betrayal given: In one, he attempts to usurp Francia’s identity and power; in the other, he steals from the government stores to provide money for his Indian mistress. Neither account is verified, and the conclusion is left to the reader. His presence and subsequent torture and death serve to contradict the dictator’s self-image as benevolent despot.

General Manuel Belgrano, the Argentine general who attacked Paraguay in an attempt to annex it, appears as an illusory dream character. Viewed as an honest and idealistic man who withdrew his troops when he realized that the Paraguayans did not want to be “liberated,” he later becomes a friend of the dictator when he comes to negotiate an alliance between their two countries.

Antonio Manuel Correia da Camara is presented as a hypocritical, self-serving, and deceitful Brazilian envoy sent to trick Francia into ceding Paraguayan border territory. Like Belgrano, he is presented as if in a dream, and it is never made clear whether his presence is real or imagined.

Bernardo Velazco is the royalist governor of Paraguay prior to its independence from Spain. One of Francia’s principal enemies, he is strongly against the formation of a republican state and liberal ideals. He appears in the text through both the dictator’s narration and excerpts of his letters. Nicknamed “Bel-Asshole,” he is portrayed as hypocritical and untrustworthy.

Sultan is the dictator’s remarkable dog, who appears at the end of the novel as an accusatory alter-ego, revealing the dictator’s essential contradictions and self-deceptions as he slips into death.

Critical Context

I, the Supreme is Roa Bastos’s second novel and his most widely acclaimed work. The author spent much of his life writing short stories and screenplays as well as an earlier novel, Hijo de hombre (1960; Son of Man, 1965), but this work clearly represents his artistic maturity.

Although it is contemporary to the major works of the Latin American “Boom” era of the 1960’s and 1970’s, it is not usually analyzed within that context. Instead, it is generally included within the tradition of the “dictator novel” that began in the 1930’s with the publication of Tirano Banderas (1926; The Tyrant, 1929) by the Spanish author Ramón del Valle-Inclán and El señor presidente (1946; The President, 1963) by the Guatemalan author Miguel Ángel Asturias. This genre focuses on the social, political, and even psychological consequences of dictatorship and its mechanisms for maintaining power, a phenomenon that, unfortunately, has been prevalent in Latin America since the wars of independence at the beginning of the nineteenth century.

Many critics have considered I, the Supreme to be the culmination of this genre, along with two other novels in the same category that were published almost simultaneously: El recurso del método (1974; Reasons of State, 1976) by Alejo Carpentier and El otoño del patriarca (1975; The Autumn of the Patriarch, 1975) by Gabriel García Márquez. All three novels reject the traditional technique of portraying the dictator as an almost mythical, dehumanized monster constructed by an external point of view and look instead at the internal conflicts of the dictator as a human being. Roa Bastos’s creation presents the most radical departure from earlier models. While García Márquez and Carpentier generate a composite or hybrid image of the dictator based on characteristics of actual historical figures from different eras and areas, I, the Supreme does exactly the reverse: It begins with one single historical figure (Francia) and presents him through a series of fragmented and contradictory perspectives.

In many ways, this work could be considered a precursor of the postmodern novel in Latin America. Roa Bastos’s experimentations with literary techniques (fragmentation of both space and time; elimination of narrative voice, global structure, and plot; incongruous juxtaposition of a variety of texts and textual styles) work continually to challenge and deconstruct the reader’s assumptions and expectations, not only with regard to the book’s subject, the historical dictator, but even in terms of the written text itself and the borders between fiction and reality.

In the years since the publication of I, the Supreme, Roa Bastos has also established himself as an essayist on a broad range of topics, from his own writing techniques to the sociopolitical and linguistic realities of modern Paraguay. His third novel, Vigilia del Almirante (1992; the vigil of the admiral) continues his exploration of the realm of historical revisionism with a reconstruction of Christopher Columbus’s voyage in 1492 and affirms Roa Bastos’s place in the Latin American literary canon.

Bibliography

Bach, Caleb. “Augusto Roa Bastos: Outwitting Reality.” Americas 48 (November-December, 1996): 44-49. Discusses Rao Bastos’s background and writing career. Offers an in-depth examination of I, the Supreme along with illuminating comments by Roa Bastos about the book.

Balderston, Daniel. “The Making of a Precursor: Carlyle in Yo, el Supremo.” Symposium 44 (Fall, 1990): 155-164. Examines the use of Thomas Carlyle’s 1843 essay on Doctor Francia as an intertext in Roa Bastos’s novel. Also discusses the theory that the modern writer creates his precursors, the relationship between literature and history, and the relationship between language and reality.

Da Rosa, Doris C. “Yo, el Supremo and Augusto Roa Bastos’s Search for the Future of Paraguay.” Discurso Literario 1 (Spring, 1984): 169-176. Examines the novel as a historical revision of Francia’s regime but not as an unqualified justification. Maintains that the historical perspective of the text reflects contemporary circumstances and problems of Paraguay. Offers the conclusion that the nationalist pursuits of the nineteenth century dictator portrayed in I, the Supreme provide a model for modern Paraguayan nationalists.

Martin, Gerald. “Yo, el Supremo: The Dictator and His Script.” Forum for Modern Language Studies 15 (April, 1979): 169-183. In this Marxist analysis of the novel, Martin argues that Roa Bastos both reexamines the historical reality of Francia and projects an implied critique of the Latin American “New Novel.” Asserts that Roa Bastos exposes writing as a hopelessly one-dimensional form of power that is inadequate to the communication of meaning. Concludes that the novel offers a unique interpenetration of literary and political ideologies, “fusing literary revolution’ with revolutionary literature.’ ”

Ugalde, Sharon K. “Binarisms in Yo, el Supremo.” Hispanic Journal 2 (Fall, 1980): 69-77. An excellent analysis of the polar oppositions and contradictions that form the structural and thematic basis of the novel. Examines in particular the mythological polarities and concludes that Roa Bastos deliberately rejects resolution of contradictions.

Weldt-Basson, Helene C. Augusto Roa Bastos’ “I the Supreme”: A Dialogic Perspective. Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1993. One of the finest studies available in English on Roa Bastos’s novel. Explores in depth Roa Bastos’s thoughts on Francia and supplies two extensive chapters on the historical and nonhistorical intertexts.