Juan Pablo Dabove · University of Colorado Boulder · PhdFit
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Juan Pablo Dabove
· Professor
University of Colorado Boulder · Spanish & Portuguese
Juan Pablo Dabove (1969-2025) was a distinguished scholar in the fields of Latin American literature and culture, with a focus on postcolonial studies, bandit narratives, and Gothic literature. His research considered 19th- and 20th-century Latin American literatures, cultures, and history, and he was regarded as one of the most significant commentators of Hispanic narrative by the Revista Canadiense de Estudios Hispánicos. Dabove authored the acclaimed book 'Nightmares of the Lettered City: Banditry and Literature in Latin America, 1816–1929,' which analyzed the portrayal of banditry as a symbol of resistance, rebellion, or disorder in Latin American literature, drawing on Ángel Rama's concept of the 'lettered city.' His subsequent work, 'Bandit Narratives in Latin America: From Villa to Chávez,' extended his exploration into the 20th and 21st centuries, examining how figures like Pancho Villa and Hugo Chávez are represented as both heroes and outlaws, and how banditry challenges traditional notions of power, justice, and social order. In recent years, Dabove developed an interest in Gothic literature, investigating its role in expressing social anxieties and historical traumas within Latin American contexts, and was working on a book titled 'The Gothic Moment in Argentine Culture.' He was a prolific contributor to the academic community, delivering keynote addresses internationally, contributing to dictionaries and encyclopedias, and participating actively in the Latin American Studies Association. Dabove joined the University of Colorado Boulder’s Department of Spanish and Portuguese during a pivotal period of departmental growth, making significant contributions across teaching, research, and service. His work has had a lasting impact on the department’s reputation and on Latin American literary studies more broadly. He was known for his sincerity, dedication, and the warmth he extended to colleagues and students alike.
This chapter conciliates two different demands. On the one hand, it presents Martín Fierro as the apex of the gauchesca genre, as an intervention in political and cultural conflicts regarding the consolidation of the nation-state, the conservative order, rural capitalism, and the relationship between urban elites and rural populations, taking into consideration the two very different contexts in which both parts of the poem were written and initially read. On the other, it presents what seems to be the most impactful and widespread legacy of the poem: how, through the trope of the gaucho outlaw, the poem establishes a mode of conceiving the relationship between lettered elite and subaltern bodies and voices, when articulated to diverse (even contrasting) cultural/political projects. This articulation entails a constant redefinition of what "subaltern" may mean but always seems to assume unique uses of gaucho bodies and voices. One example would be the notion of the gaucho sociolect as the true national language and not a frontier sociolect, something unique to Latin America. How this came to be, and why, and with what consequences, are guiding questions.
The chapter examines how diverse forms of rural insurgency (i.e. banditry, caudillismo, millenarianism, revolutionary uprisings) were depicted in literature from the tapering off of the civil wars to the Mexican Revolution. Rural insurgency was a paramount preoccupation for letrados of the period, not only because of the material challenges that it posed to the imposition of agrarian capitalism and the sovereignty of the nation-state, but also because rural insurgency tapped into the cultural capital of rural societies (e.g. kinship, networks of patronage), forms of leadership (e.g. caudillismo), heterodox versions of Catholicism to articulate dreams of social justice (e.g. millenarianism). Hence, rural insurgency was considered, by its mere existence, an existential challenge to the very notion of a modern capitalist nation-state. However, the chapter examines how, at the same time that literature served as a sort of “prose of counterinsurgency” (Ranajit Guha), it was also a site of reflection on the dilemmas attending the constitution of a modern polity and culture.
El ensayo examina la relación entre violencia campesina (emblematizada por el movimiento milenarista de Canudos, liderado por Antônio Conselheiro, en lo profundo del sertón bahiano), y diferentes versiones del intelectual moderno, como una suerte de reflexión sobre las condicio-nes de posibilidad de la novela misma (y de la literatura moderna). Examinaré tres escenas de “lectura” de la violencia campe-sina. Estas escenas de “lectura” consisten en el examen de cuatro cabezas (en dos casos, cabezas decapitadas). En primer lu-gar, los criminólogos de la Escuela de Bahía, y su examen de la cabeza del Conselheiro (examen encomendado por el estado para intentar explicar la violencia milenarista en el sertón). En segundo lugar, Galileo Gall, intelectual revolucionario moderno, y su lectura en clave frenológica de las cabe-zas del cangaceiro Barbadura y del capangas Rufino. Finalmente, el periodista miope, y la visión catastrófica de la cabeza decapi-tada y putrefacta de Moreira César. En los dos primeros casos, la “lectura” del insur-gente define la identidad y la misión del intelectual (asociado al estado contra la insurgencia; asociado –imaginariamente– a la insurgencia contra el estado). En el tercero, la violencia es ilegible. La expe-riencia de esa ilegibilidad arruina la iden-tidad del intelectual pero, paradójicamente, esa ruina es la condición de posibilidad de la obra futura. En esa ruina desaparece el intelectual, y surge el escritor.
Reviewed by: The Migration and Politics of Monsters in Latin America by Gabriel Eljaiek-Rodríguez Juan Pablo Dabove Eljaiek-Rodríguez, Gabriel. The Migration and Politics of Monsters in Latin America. Palgrave Macmillan, 2018. viii + 231 pp. This volume joins the growing number of recent publications (written in English and Spanish, as well as in Portuguese) that deal with the Gothic, horror, and related phenomena in Latin America. The recent publications in English include: Gothic Imagination in Latin American Fiction and Film, by Carmen Serrano (2019); Latin American Gothic in Literature and Culture, edited by Sandra Casanova-Vizcaíno and Inés Ordiz (2017); and Tropical Gothic in Literature and Culture: The Americas, edited by Justin Edwards and Sandra Guardini Vasconcelos (2016). The Migration and Politics of Monsters in Latin America (a continuation of sorts of Eljiaek-Rodríguez’s previous book, Selva de fantasmas: el gótico en la literatura y el cine latinoamericanos [2017]) also reveals a renewed interest in monsters, defined in a very wide sense, from vampires to rural bandits (not to mention vampire-bandits) to ghosts and specters. These scholarly endeavors focus primarily on the monster’s cultural genealogy, as well as its usefulness as the embodiment of cultural conflicts, desires, and/or anxieties, both inside and outside fiction. The Introduction to the book specifies the theoretical, political, and chronological parameters of this enterprise. As the author states quite clearly, the volume proposes a cinematic cartography of contemporary Latin American horror films that take up the idea of the American continent as a space of radical Otherness, or monstrosity, and use it for political purposes. Film directors from different countries in the continent migrate horror tropes to Latin America, creating cinematographic horror hybrids that serve a further political purpose of reclaiming and transforming the monstrosity as a form of historical rewriting . . . [T]his book contributes to broad scholarship on horror cinema, at the same time connecting the horror tradition with contemporary discussions on violence, migration, fear of immigrants (in this case read as monsters), and the rewriting of colonial discourses. (9) [End Page 863] Therefore, this book’s interest in monsters is (by design) circumscribed to a specific genre (the contemporary horror film), and to a specific use of the monster trope (among many others): it analyzes how the monster is reclaimed by Latin American filmmakers in order to contest a prior articulation of the monstrosity trope. That is, it focuses on the tradition of framing Latin America as a site of monstrosity and of radical Otherness. Eljaiek-Rodríguez reminds us that this prior articulation of the trope has a history that goes all the way back to the initial encounter between Europeans bent on conquest and the aboriginal inhabitants of the Americas. Building on a preexistent reservoir of images and displacing them from other margins of the European Christian world (such as India and Africa), America was conceived as a monstrous land itself, populated by a repertoire of abject or threatening creatures: cannibals, Amazons, giants, hybrids of dog and human origin. These point to just the most prominent examples. This othering of Latin America (and of Latin American populations) endures, in modified forms, to the present day (e.g. Trump’s image of the mindless violent rapist invading migrant). Eljaiek-Rodríguez shows how contemporary horror filmmakers rewrite the monster, either embracing it (making it a mark of Latin American proud distinctiveness) or using it in radically different ways from its original articulation. This approach links Eljaiek-Rodríguez to an intellectual lineage that harks back to the “Anthropophagic Manifesto” (1928), by Oswald de Andrade (or even earlier), and that can be traced through Roberto Fernández-Retamar’s Calibán (1971) and the appropriation of Shakespeare’s creature as an anti-imperialist trope. Eljaiek-Rodríguez is well aware of this lineage, as his references to the works of Fernández-Retamar himself, as well as those of Mabel Moraña, Carlos Jáuregui, and Persephone Braham, among others, make this apparent. Missing from this Introduction is perhaps a reflection on the horror genre and on horror as an affective experience, from both a theoretical and a historical perspective. The diversity...
Revista de estudios hispánicos · 2019-01-01 · 1 citations
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Reviewed by: Latin American Gothic in Literature and Culture ed. by Sandra Casanova-Vizcaíno, and Inés Ordiz Juan Pablo Dabove Casanova-Vizcaíno, Sandra, and Inés Ordiz, editors. Latin American Gothic in Literature and Culture. Routledge, 2017. 269 pp. This timely volume attests to the undeniable ascendancy of the Gothic as an object of inquiry within Latin American Studies. This ascendancy is itself an echo of the increasing prestige and dominance of the Gothic in Latin America and the larger global cultural arena. Consider a telling example: two of the most visible—and talented—Latin American writers today, the Argentines Samanta Schweblin and Mariana Enriquez, jumped to global fame on the strengths of two Gothic books, the nouvelle Fever Dream (shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize), and the short story collection Things We Lost in the Fire (translated, so far, into more than twenty languages). In Latin America, as the editors of this volume correctly point out, the label gótico coexists with others: horror, terror, fantástico (closer to the French fantastique than to the English fantasy). This plurality poses in itself an interesting question, that speaks to the traditionally dubious prestige of the Gothic, and to how literature, as an institution in Latin America, was conceived until quite recently. This erasure poses a number of tasks for scholars: 1) to explain why the Gothic has not, until recently, assumed its own name as such and why it does now; 2) to reconstruct a lineage of the Gothic in Latin America; 3) to define Gothic's preoccupations, topics, and formal traits; and 4) to assess its specificity, both at the regional level (for example, what does the Gothic have in common throughout Latin America, and what differentiates it from metropolitan instances of the Gothic, or the more deterritorialized global Gothic?) and within particular areas or nations (e.g. how is the Argentine Gothic different from, let's say, Mexican or Caribbean Gothic?). These are not easy tasks: the object of inquiry is conceptually—and perhaps inherently—ill-defined. Is the Gothic a genre defined by specific topics, themes, and narrative twists, is it a mode, or is it just a constellation of tropes—such as the past that returns, pollution, the creature in-between, and so forth—that inflects multiple discursive practices, both fictional and non-fictional? Since the object is arduous to define, the corpus to be studied is therefore not easily isolated. Furthermore, the problems that could define the Gothic in the Latin American context are only now becoming visible. Latin American Gothic in Literature and Culture is one of the first books, and probably the most comprehensive so far, to tackle these challenges. The seventeen contributors in this volume are particularly adept to the tasks at hand: this is [End Page 786] not a hastily assembled group of academics, who jumped on the bandwagon of a fashionable topic. For the most part, the contributors are scholars who have been working and publishing on different aspects of the topic for years, and who have been interacting with each other at conferences and publications. They, therefore, bring a collective depth of knowledge to the volume in their respective geographical areas or topics. This, and the carefully balanced regional/national distribution of the chapters, gives Latin American Gothic a coherence that is rare in these types of enterprises, and for this, the editors should be congratulated. After the well-thought-out introduction, in which the editors establish the theoretical parameters of the volume, there are a few well-defined preoccupations that permeate the book's chapters. Several engage deliberately in the partial or comprehensive reconstruction of Gothic lineages, mostly (but not exclusively) at the national level, such as Inés Ordiz and Soledad Quereillac's consideration of Argentina, Olga Ries's of Chile, Gabriel Eljaiek-Rodríguez's of Colombia, and Rosa María Díez Cobo's of Peru. Of course, to a certain degree, most of the articles engage in such a task, even when focusing on specific authors or works. Some examples are Antonio Alcalá Rodríguez's work on Juan Rulfo's Pedro Páramo, Adriana Gordillo's study of Carlos Fuentes...
Journal of Latin American Cultural Studies · 2019-01-02 · 1 citations
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Since its appearance in 1879–1880, Juan Moreira has been read as an illiberal novel, casting its eponymous hero (the historical bodyguard and electoral henchman of the same name) as a metaphor for ...
