What the Aztecs Told Me

authors: Claudia Burr, Krystnya Libura, and Maria Urrutia

Groundwood Books, 1997

grades 3-5  

Mexica (Aztec)

It seems that more and more American writers seek out the parts of other people’s cultures that they see as exotic or exciting. Maybe it is because they feel that their own lives in this “western” society are dull and monotonous. Unfortunately, this tendency has clouded the minds of those who write and teach from outside the culture. What the Aztecs Told Me is no exception. It tells about the Mexica or Aztec culture before the invasion of what we now call Mexico through the eyes of the Spanish friar, Bernardino de Sahagún.

As with so many other books on the “Aztecs,” this one seems fixated on the subject of human sacrifices. In fact, the first six pages of this 30-page book are about sacrifices—as if to say that this was the most important aspect of Mexica life. Accompanying Sahagún’s account are drawings by Spanish missionaries to justify the often brutal methods they used to force thousands of Mexica to convert from their “pagan” way of life to the “light” of medieval Christianity. As biased as all this material is, the authors never question Sahagún’s work.

Once we wade through what seems like overkill for any fifth-grade student, we are finally treated to scant descriptions of the day-to-day life of the Mexica. I wonder if the authors or the members of the Canada Council and Ontario Arts Council—the funders of this book—see the irony in their own words:

[T]he culture and events that Friar Bernardino recorded had almost disappeared by the time he wrote his work. Only a few elders remained who could remember Mexico before the Spaniards arrived. It is thanks to them that we can glimpse this vanished world.

Maybe, if Sahagún, Cortez, and their cohorts had not been so successful in “civilizing” the Native peoples of Mexico, we would have more such elders to learn from. Still, there are many elders throughout Mexico whose oral traditions dispute the Spanish accounts. If the authors had really wanted to show their respect for the Mexica, they would have sought out some of our elders, rather than retelling the invader’s accounts one more time. Not recommended.

—Marco Palma
(published 4/15/13)

This review first appeared in A Broken Flute: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Doris Seale and Beverly Slapin (AltaMira Press, 2005). We thank the publisher for permission.

Musicians of the Sun

author: Gerald McDermott

illustrator: Gerald McDermott

Simon & Schuster, 1997

kindergarten-grade 4 

Mexica (Aztec)

In McDermott’s retelling of a fragment of a Mexica (Aztec) “myth,” the deity Tezcatlipoca, Lord of the Night, sends Wind to bring the Musicians of the Sun to Earth, in order to bring joy and color to the world. Here, Wind is the “good guy” who uses weapons of thunder and lightning to best Sun, the “bad guy.” McDermott’s intense colors, from acrylic fabric paint, opaque inks, and oil pastels on handmade paper, are appealing to young children and their teachers. As with his other books, Musicians of the Sun has garnered rave reviews.

From School Library Journal, for instance: “Picture-book versions of Aztec myths suitable for sharing with classes are scarce, however, and this one should be welcome, especially since it is dignified enough to use with older children.” A Goodreads reviewer opined: “Students will enjoy this story and the simple way it describes an ancient Aztec myth.” And from the New York Times Book Review: “Musicians of the Sun has something irresistible to young readers: It is based on a fragment of Aztec mythology and, reflecting that cruel and passionate culture, it is a complex tale.”

Did you get that last one? If not, I’ll repeat: “reflecting that cruel and passionate culture.” This is precisely the problem with Musicians of the Sun and McDermott’s other children’s books. In McDermott’s world, you can take whatever you want and make it yours. And if anyone criticizes your work, as a dear friend of mine did at a “multicultural” conference at which he was speaking, well, you have the privilege of alleged artistic talent, undeserved fame and fortune, and grandiose arrogance on your side.

At that particular conference (and I imagine at many others), I heard Gerald McDermott publicly voice his opinion that there is no such thing as what he disparages as “cultural copyright.” In the case of Musicians of the Sun, McDermott’s version of a Mexica creation story that he found in a French translation of a version set down by a Spanish missionary in the 16^th century and several other versions in the 16^th and 17^th centuries, became, for him, “a metaphor for the artist’s journey.” No joke. He describes his hunting for, taking of, and manipulating a sacred creation story as a metaphor for his own personal journey.  This is the kind of “retellings”—read cultural theft—of traditional stories for which McDermott is famous. Not recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(posted 4/14/13)

Legend of Mexicatl

author: Jo Harper

Illustrator: Robert Casilla

Turtle Books, 1998

kindergarten-grade 3 

Mexica (Aztec)

First off, it was hard for me to tell whether this story was supposed to be about the Mexica (Aztecs), or if it was really about Jesus. The story is about a boy, Mexicatl, who is called upon by a generic “Great Spirit” to eventually lead his people to their promised land. Upon opening the book to the first page, I was struck by how much the first illustration appears like so many nativity scenes that one would expect to find in a church. Although this will probably make the book appealing to Catholics with Mexican roots, it does not tell us anything about the Mexica people. There are many accounts about the journey that the Mexica took from Aztlán to what is now Mexico City. Some of these are Native accounts while others are colonial Spanish stories. Amidst all the academic argument and speculation, all the contradiction and inconsistency, the author seems to have found it easy to put forward her version of a “glorious triumph of faith and courage.”

There is something subtle and maybe even insidious about the Christianization of what is not a Christian story. Rather than honor the culture of which the real legend of Mexicatl is a part, it suggests that there is something that needs to be improved by rewriting it and that the Mexica people can be redeemed only by being compared to early Christians. I think that Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, on whose colonizing works this particular version is based, would have been envious that he did not think of manipulating the legend in this way. No doubt he would have put it to good use in his efforts to stamp out from the Mexica any trace of their Native worldview and spirituality.

The one good thing about this book is the illustrations by Robert Casilla, whose wife and son were the models for Mexicatl and his mother. The skin tones are realistic, the facial features are not exaggerated, the people look like real people. The illustrations are actually better than most you would expect to find in children’s books about Mexica, Maya, or Inca. Still, this in itself is not reason to buy the book. Not recommended.

—Marco Palma
(published 4/13/13)

This review first appeared in A Broken Flute: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Doris Seale and Beverly Slapin (AltaMira Press, 2005). We thank the publisher for permission.

Hands-On Latin America: Art Activities for All Ages

 

author: Yvonne Y. Merrill

Kits Publishing, 1997

grades 3-up 

Mexica, Inca, Maya

I can’t imagine why anyone would want to use this book. There’s no information on the pieces children are being taught to make. Any child or teacher with an inquiring mind would ask: Where were the originals of these pieces made? Who made them? For whom were they made? What were their uses? As a teacher who does project-based teaching, I found myself looking for at least photos of the original pieces and any kind of information to answer these questions. And as an Indian woman, I can't in good conscience tell my culturally diverse students that they’re “Latin American art pieces.” That is just not enough.

The food page in particular ranks up there in bad taste. I teach my students that what people ate and thrived on was what grew in their areas and that the availability of food was usually why people came to a certain area. The author's statement—“Here are some of the foods that were new to the world with the Spanish conquests”—is ungrammatical and confusing and sets the tone for the European-American “us-versus-them” perspective that permeates the entire book.

A few glaring misses: The map shows the continent of South America, Central America and a little of Mexico, but does not include the United States or Canada when in fact, some of the art work is purely North American, north of Mexico—the luminarias for instance. The Mexica (Aztec) symbols are referred to as “designs” when in fact each had and has great importance relating to specific aspects of a belief system. The historic pieces relating to belief and ritual—such as Mexica headbands, medallions and rattles—are shown as craft objects, devoid of meaning, easily constructed out of paper, pasta, paint and canning lids. Each design on each piece had a specific meaning; rituals associated with them were sometimes known by all, sometimes known only by initiates. In any event, they were not simply things for children to copy and play with.

To give this book “educational” value, Merrill has incorporated what she considers important to know on several full pages and after many of the craft instructions. These “facts” mostly range from strange to unintelligible to ridiculous. In a paragraph labeled “Health Care and Hygiene,” there is some useful information, followed by this:

The New World natives had an impressive knowledge of the human body, derived largely from human sacrifice and body dissection. Mesoamerican “surgeons” used sharp obsidian knives and were skilled in drilling for brain injuries.

Sacrificed bodies were considered holy and were not defiled by dissection, nor were they used for educational purposes. The “impressive knowledge” in science and medicine was derived from the need to better the human condition, and trephining was done to relieve pain and pressure on the brain. By surrounding the word “surgeons” with quotes, Merrill implies that people were not surgeons, but rather “primitive” people poking around with sharp instruments.

A page about the Maya is illustrated with a drawing of a person’s head, with arrows pointing to “knotted hair,” “crossed eyes,” “filed pointed teeth filled with jade,” “sloped forehead,” and “tattoos.” Above the drawing, Merrill writes, “[A]rcheologists know the Maya had an unusual beauty code.” Her use of the word “archeologists” is incorrect; people who interpret archeological finds to theorize about their cultural relevance are called “cultural anthropologists.” There was always a purpose or reason for everything that was done; in this case, it might have been beauty, spirituality, status or class. Using the term “unusual” here is patronizing, as is “beauty code.” The picture Merrill shows may well be that of someone belonging to a warrior society, possibly jaguar, whose members personified certain cultural icons. In any event, it’s made to look like a frivolous beauty style filtered through a modern European sensibility. This is not a good thing to do.

In “New World Influences,” Merrill writes: “Though their governing power was quickly eliminated, the New World resources and knowledge forever changed the European lifestyle.” Can anyone tell me what this means? Finally, my favorite “doesn't-quite-make-it” quote: “In most cases they called themselves by their indigenous name: the Chimus or Chancas of the Inca empire, the Mixtecs or Toltecs of the Aztec empire.” What else on Earth would they call themselves? Would they use Spanish names they had never heard?

The “Art Today” section is surprisingly good, mainly because there is no history to mess with. Most of the items are highly visible in modern culture and have become popular to display and make. However, there are better sources for teaching students that include photographs of actual pieces with accurate histories that allow children to learn about the original peoples of this hemisphere in a respectful, non-racist way. Not recommended.

—Judy Zalazar Drummond 
(published 4/13/13)

This review first appeared in A Broken Flute: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Doris Seale and Beverly Slapin (AltaMira Press, 2005). We thank the publisher for permission.

Montezuma and the Aztecs

authors: Mathilde Helly and Rémi Courgeon

Holt, 1996

grades 7-up

Mexica

This title is part of Holt’s “W5” (who, what, when, where, and why) history series, originally published in France under the title Cortés et son temps. The stated goal of the series is to bring history to life for young readers, and the text brings in culture as well as history and biography.

Beginning with the Chinese epigraphy, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” the mostly full-color illustrations include photography, drawings, maps, cartoons, modern paintings, and antique prints. The text of each double-page spread covers a different topic, ranging from aspects of Mexica (Aztec) cultural and spiritual life, to the establishment of Tenochtitlán, to the military campaigns of Cortéz and the exploitation of the Yucatán peninsula, to the lives of Moctezuma (the correct spelling) and Cortéz themselves.

Unfortunately, the goal of this book is belied by the sloppy writing and editing, inconsistent and illogical design, and most important, the condescending Eurocentric perspective that stereotypes and demonizes every aspect of the powerful and rich Mexica culture. A few of the more egregious examples:

• The cover bears the legend, “Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochtli, and other words you can’t pronounce.” We can pronounce these words just fine. To whom does the “you” refer? Certainly not to Mexica children.

• On the first page is a photo of a “Mexican salad.” The salad, in a large clay bowl, consists of tomato, corn, beans, peppers, and pieces of cactus—with the thorns on. While nopales are part of the traditional Mexican diet, do the authors really think they were/are eaten this way? Also in the salad are cards with very odd statements from children and adults about Mexica people, such as: “It was hot where the Aztecs lived so they ate chili.” What is the point of this?

• A headline for one of the spreads says, “The Gods Are Like Germs: They Are Countless, Invincible, and Hyperactive.” The accompanying text does nothing to explain what this might mean. The illustration shows a naked Mexica man kneeling, looking into a microscope. Although the Mexica honored many, many aspects of nature, how is referring to them as “hyperactive” and “germs” in any way educational? And while the Mexica were technologically advanced for their time, they did not have microscopes.

• Another headline, “Eat Your Heart Out,” leads one of several gory references to blood sacrifice, accompanied by an equally gruesome set of images. Here, the text reads in part:

The body was cut up: the skin stuffed with cotton, went to decorate the façade of the palace where the priests lived; the right thigh went to the emperor; the head was impaled on a stake; the blood was smeared on the statues of the temple. The rest was eaten by the family of the man who had captured the victim or was thrown to the wild beasts kept in the palace….[T]he smell of decaying flesh and coagulated blood was masked by copal incense.

What was the source for this? We don’t know. It was likely based on turn-of-the-14^th Century Catholic apologists for the destruction of the Mexica empire. Human sacrifice was an important part, but not the only aspect, of Mexica culture and cosmology. How can putting this inflammatory and prurient text alongside a sarcastic headline encourage any serious interest in the study of such a complex culture?

• The section called “The Garland Wars: They Only Sound Pretty” is accompanied by the cartoon image of a grinning Jaguar warrior, down on one knee, presenting to a smiling Olive Oyle lookalike a bouquet—of severed limbs. The Flowery Wars, as they are more commonly known, were an institution in which the sole purpose was to settle land disputes between neighboring nations by seeing who could take more captives. The emphasis was—unlike today’s warfare—not on killing the enemy but on attaining a higher rank and recognition from one’s own people.

• “The Aztecs Never Discovered the Wheel, But Their Children Played with It Every Day,” says another headline, which is accompanied by a photograph of an Mexica toy with four wheels. What does this incongruous headline mean, then?

• At Moctezuma's crowning, after self-mutilation ceremonies, the authors state that “he had sacrificed several quail on the altar; then with a gold incense burner he had waved incense toward the four corners of the earth to symbolize his power and authority.” At the beginning of indigenous events, now as then, whether it is a birth, wedding, planting a garden, or dinner, there is an honoring of the four directions—and Mother Earth and Father Sky—to ask their blessings for the undertaking at hand. Power and authority rest easily only on those who honor the givers of life, and not even Moctezuma would have put himself above the forces of nature.

• Perhaps the most offensive image is the one that accompanies the section on Doña Marina or La Malinche. It is a color photo of a beautiful young Indian woman (most probably from Guatemala— which is nowhere near Mexico City—and most probably Maya, not Mexica). Over her mouth are placed the words, “Translation by Doña Marina” as if she were wearing a gag. What is this image supposed to suggest to our daughters—that they should be silent? That their role in life is blind obedience to those who would “conquer” them? The text states that Doña Marina was Cortez’s willing “mistress and closest advisor,” but in fact, there are many stories in our culture about La Malinche and no one knows for sure what the truths are.

Although there are Mexica scholars in Mexico today—and over fifty variants of the original Mexica language, Nahuatl, that are still being spoken by over a million people—there is nothing in this book from a Native point of view. The racism in the artwork and text is just appalling; page after page after page suggest to young readers that the Mexica were conquered because of their savagery and backwardness. Further, there is no attribution for any of the illustrations, no source notes, and no recommended bibliography. Apparently, the authors do not expect young readers to do further research on any of the many topics covered here.

In a review of the “W5” series for the Minneapolis Star Tribune, Professor Jane Resh Thomas of the University of Minnesota writes:

A species of seductive, expensive, glitzy, inferior nonfiction has emerged. Reference books for kids ought to exemplify clear thinking and principles of excellent writing. But a competent teacher would reject a student paper modeled after Montezuma and other titles in this series.

We couldn’t have said it better. Not recommended.

—Judy Zalazar Drummond and Marco Palma
(published 4/13/13)

This review first appeared in A Broken Flute: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Doris Seale and Beverly Slapin (AltaMira Press, 2005). We thank the publisher for permission.

Festival of Bones/ El Festival de las Calaveras (The Little Bitty Book for the Day of the Dead)

 

author: Luis San Vicente

illustrator: Luis San Vicente

translators: John William Byrd and Bobby Byrd

Cinco Puntos, 2002

all grades 

Mexica, Mexican

Executed in ink and watercolor on what appears to be scratchboard, here are page after page of joyous skeletons doing what joyous skeletons do at the time of year known as El Día de los Muertos, when they get to climb out of their cramped little graves and party with each other and with their living relatives.

Here’s a duded-up skeleton, his sombrero at his side, playing a guitar. Here’s a skeleton in a top hat, happily riding a bicycle over the local cemetery. Here’s another one, flying on an airplane made of newspaper; and another one, skating. Here’s a dancing skeleton couple, and here’s a lady skeleton in a fancy bonnet, in a stagecoach drawn by two skeleton horses. She is pursuing her beloved skeleton boyfriend, who is trying to escape her marriage proposal.

No explanatory material is necessary, but there’s plenty of that as well, including recipes for pan de muerto and sugar skulls—enough for any teacher in the US who feels the need.

This absolutely hilarious little book, in Spanish and English, will appeal to anyone of any age who likes to laugh. And, after all, isn’t that what this holiday is all about? Highly recommended. 

 

—Beverly Slapin
(published 4/7/13)

Aztecs: Life in Tenochtitlan

author: Matt Doeden

illustrator: Samuel Hiti

Lerner / Millbrook, 2010

grades 3-6 

Mexica (Aztec)

One of the volumes in Millbrook’s “Life in Ancient Civilizations” series, the 48-page Aztecs is divided into chapters covering daily life, religion, ideas and inventions, and how the empire was ruled. Included is a timeline, pronunciation guide, glossary, further reading section, list of websites for additional information, and an index. As with the other volumes in this series (Babylonians: Life in Ancient Babylonia, Chinese: Life in China’s Golden Age, Egyptians: Life in Ancient Egypt, Greeks: Life in Ancient Greece, and Romans: Life in Ancient Rome), the brief chapters and conversational tone will appeal to report-driven youngsters searching for quick information about “disappeared” cultures.

Interspersed with color photos of artifacts, including what might be a sacrificial knife, Hiti’s colorful, comic-book-style brush, ink and computer-generated illustrations—showing expressionless men with undersized heads and muscle-bound bodies, and children with huge heads—are spectacularly unappealing.

But the main problem with this sort of anthropology book for young readers is that it is, by its simplistic nature, poorly conceived and destined to fail. I doubt that it would be possible to describe, in this limited format and in a way that is interesting, factual, and respectful, what it was to live in any particular place in a particular time.

In his introductory sentences, Doeden demonstrates why this was a bad idea: “Many different groups lived in ancient Mexico. One group was the Aztecs. They are known for building great temples and killing people for their gods.” It’s no secret that this perspective is not that of the Mexica (Aztec), yesterday or today.

Not surprisingly, much of the text concerns itself with distancing young readers from the lives of the people they are studying. Here’s an example, with what children are led to think in my italics:

“To please their gods, the Aztecs sacrificed many people. Priests were in charge of the sacrifices. Most of the people killed were captured warriors or slaves. But sometimes the Aztecs killed children. People thought killing children for Tlaloc would bring rain (but it really wouldn’t)…. The Aztecs believed they had to make sacrifices (but they really didn’t). They thought the sun needed blood (but it really didn’t). Without blood, the sun might stop shining (but it really wouldn’t). The world might end (but it really wouldn’t).”

The rest of the text in Aztecs veers from ho-hum descriptions (“Most Aztecs ate two meals a day—one in the morning and one in the evening”) to breathless revulsion (“A person wearing the wrong clothing could be killed!”) to unsubstantiated theory (“The Aztecs may even have raised dogs as food”) to justification for colonialism.

Here, the author always describes the Aztecs as either “Aztecs” or “Aztec warriors,” and always describes the Spanish as either “Spanish” or “Spanish explorers.” Here is an example of how the author manipulates the young reader to accept uncritically the Spanish war of conquest of the Mexica Empire:

“In 1520, Hernan Cortes and a group of Spanish explorers came to Tenochtitlan. They brought new diseases to the area. They also had better horses, guns, metal armor, and better swords than the Aztecs. They took Montezuma II (sic) prisoner. The Aztecs tried to fight off the explorers, but they did not succeed. Montezuma II (sic) died in 1520. Tenochtitlan fell in August 1521. The city was ruined. The Aztec Empire came to an end. (italics mine)”

And finally, near the end, there is “Echoes of the Aztecs,” similarly cleansed:

“Much of the Aztecs’ past is a mystery. The Spanish destroyed and burned buildings, books, and other symbols of the Aztec culture. The people mixed with the Spanish. The Spanish brought Christian beliefs to the region. Aztec culture slowly faded. (italics mine)”

From every indication, all of Doeden’s resources are from cultural outsiders, including material such as Fiona MacDonald’s How to Be an Aztec Warrior and Philip Steele’s The Aztec News (“a fun book set up in the style of a newspaper published by the ancient Aztecs”). The Aztecs: Life in Tenochtitlan is not recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 4/6/13)