"I The Supreme": First Half

I didn’t see “I the Supreme” coming, was doubly surprised. First, hefting it in my hand a couple weeks ago in the book store, and then reading the first couple pages. This is the greatest book in the history of Latin American literature according to the professor; the most complex book I have ever read; and coincidently the book on which I have to write a comprehensive Wikipedia article. Where to begin?

Some random thoughts on a book composed of the (random?) rememberings and documents of hundreds of individuals follows....

This story is enjoyable from a number of nerdly perspectives. It is rife with philosophical and political reflections so much so that I found myself taking notes without thinking that correspond to my “History of Western Political Thought Course”. The continual (and disparaging) references The Supreme makes to Buenos Aires brings to mind Fecundo. As he mentions Fecundo, Rosas and Rivadavia I can imagine Sarmiento’s story unfolding on the periphery of that of Bastos. The book is also jarringly funny sometimes, as The Dictator takes the piss out of everyone and anyone he can lay his tongue on.

Since there is only The Dictator in this novel - he is either speaking, writing or occasionally being spoken to – his character is the novel. But is he a protagonist? Coming from a liberal democratic area of the world, the “dictator” title attached to the character of Dr. Francia should be enough to clearly answer that he is not. I would argue, however, that he is. The Supreme is a tragic protagonist, who becomes lost in his own intention/vision, and a victim of his own lack of humanity.

He does not lust after power, but assumes power in the midst of an anarchic vacuum and at the request of the other Paraguayan leaders. The Dictator goes on to firmly establish Paraguay’s independence and ensure stability for his entire reign. Education is made free and Indians are given the status of citizens. His downfall is his own paranoia, his inability to delegate and groom leaders around him. He becomes lost in a labyrinth of suspicion, deathly afraid of the international anarchy that surrounds the borders of his country and of all that he cannot directly control within his own country.

In some ways he brings to mind Fidel Castro, a leader whose own verbosity and revolutionary zeal is almost unparalleled. Like “The Supreme” Castro had Cuba sealed from foreigners for a long stretch of time to prevent moral contamination, in addition to suffering from further isolating trade embargos. Castro’s despotic power within Cuba was justified and perhaps warranted by internal threats stoked by external powers. Both of these men were liberators and raised the standard of living and education, in ways that only a person with a strong vision and a stronger hand could. Both held onto power until they no longer were physically (mentally?) capable. Castro’s legacy is yet to be determined, and will likely be less damaging than Dr. Francia’s, but the similarities remain.