The Novel and Reading Early California History

Davidson argues that the novel allowed Americans in the emerging republic a voice in the evolving nation – what she calls “an alternate public forum on democracy” (7). After reading this and thinking about the novels I just read for my exams, I saw a connection with two novels of early California, specifically John Rollin Ridge's The Life and Adventures of Joaquin Murieta, the Celebrated California Bandit and Maria Amparo Ruiz de Burton's The Squatter and the Don: A Novel Descriptive of Contemporary Occurrences in California. These two novels allow the voices of indigenous people to be heard when the over-riding cultural attempt was to colonize, domesticate, and silence them. These novels are a response to “the mythic identity” of the USA – the “innocent […] world crusader” (14). They illustrate how the novel in the emerging state of California represents the “aspirations, disappointments, ambitions, frustrations, and contradictions [of the indigenous people] that get minimized in the official process of nation building” (15).

The narrative that I learned as a child in California's public schools is that the state was once a happy and quiet place where Catholic missions civilized native peoples and were the center of life. And then suddenly, gold was found! Then just as suddenly, California was a state, and we all lived happily ever after in a land of milk and honey, citrus fruits, vineyards, with great weather and a Golden Gate (Bridge). What was omitted from that happy narrative was the darker reality about displacement of the Californios, former citizens of Mexico, who were living on the land when the gold prospectors arrived. It was in novels like The Squatter and the Don and The Life and Adventures of Joaquin Murieta that the people's “aspirations, disappointments, ambitions, frustrations, and contradictions” emerged (15). The Squatter and the Don is the tale of the concerted efforts of squatters and railroad barons to displace Californios from their land and reducing them to second-class citizens in the emerging state. Joaquin Murieta takes justice into his own hands after been kicked off his land multiple times, roaming about the state killing and robbing Anglos, Chinese, and Californios alike. In the end of both novels, the state is triumphant and the Californios are displaced and most are dead, thanks to the colonizing power of Manifest Destiny.

And yet it was not until this year, as a graduate student, that I learned this “alternative” history of California. I can't help but wonder how my perceptions of my home state would have changed if I had known, as a child or teenager, that the land I was living on had been wrested violently from its original inhabitants? Or how would I have felt about the Gold Rush of 1849 if I had known it was a time of violence and rampant greed, as portrayed by Ridge? If it weren't for the power of novels, I most likely would still be thinking the popular tale of Zorro as merely a myth, and not a narrative based on the real-life experiences of women like Ruiz de Burton (who lost all their land and livelihood due to the greed of the Anglo-American migrants and railroad moguls). These novels then, as Davidson points out, are part of the revolutionary genre that allows us to see the “unbridled versions of the nation, featuring a vivid and diverse cast of characters” (6). Even thought these novels have shown me troubling narratives of California's past, I still relish the genre and anticipate more experiences with revolutionary texts. Bon apetit!

PS Davidson, I love you! Thanks for including women equally in your discussions of print culture and the history of the book. 

Maria Amparo Ruiz de Burton