75 pages • 2 hours read
Yuri HerreraSigns Preceding the End of the World
Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2009A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Character Analysis
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
BetaSymbols & Motifs
Mictlān: The Aztec Underworld
Makina’s journey evokes the myth of Orpheus, who braved the dangers of the underworld to retrieve someone he loved, only to lose them after being reunited. The novel is also reminiscent of the Inferno of Dante: Signs Preceding the End of the World contains nine chapters, beginning with a metaphorical descent into the underworld like the nine levels of Dante’s hell. The title suggests a biblical, apocalyptic allusion. However, the mythological roots of Herrera’s novel also resist a Eurocentric interpretation and are based on Mexico’s past. Signs Preceding the End of the World’s structure follows the soul’s journey through the Aztec afterlife, aligning the work with a myth and history buried by European colonialism.
The first indication that Makina’s journey is a form of katabasis (a hero’s journey to the underworld and back) comes at the beginning of the novel, where, because of sinkholes, “A few houses had already been sent packing to the underworld” (12). Makina whispers “I’m dead” as she is nearly swallowed by one, causing her to commiserate with at least one “poor soul on his way to hell” (12). Though she does not die, this opening scene is her entry into the criminal “underworld” governing illegal border crossings.
Mictlān is one of four Aztec afterlives, the least glorious and perhaps most treacherous one, reserved for those who died an ordinary death. Other, separate afterlives were reserved for warriors who died in battle, women who died in childbirth, and people killed by lightning. The soul passing through Mictlān must undergo a series of trials, being stripped of something essential to their identity.
The first trial in Mictlān is to cross a treacherous river, which is paralleled in Chapter 2 of the novel, “The Water Crossing.” The soul is aided by a dog associated with the dog-headed god Xolotl. Chucho, whose name is slang for “dog,” fills this role for Makina, helping her across the river. Once across, the soul must pass between two mountains crashing together. In the novel, the violent collision between these hills symbolizes the conflict between the North and South. Having survived this trial, the soul must ascend a mountain of flint and obsidian, sharp volcanic glass important to Mesoamerican societies. This mountain is used to make the familiar sight of a baseball stadium seem foreign to the reader. Lacking the cultural context of the North, and never having seen such a stadium before, Makina sees it as “an immense green diamond rippling in its own reflection; and above, embracing it, tens of thousands of black chairs, an obsidian mound barbed with fling, sharp and glimmering” (60).
Atop the obsidian mountain, the soul is flayed by a frigid wind that cuts like blades just as Makina is beaten by the cold, and her resolve is worn down wandering through the North after discovering the land her brother was searching for does not exist. The soul is then hung like a banner to be whipped around in the wind. At this point in her journey, failing to find her brother has caused Makina to fall into despair. In Chapter 7, “The Place Where Flags Wave,” she thinks, “To hell with it all […] to hell with this guy and that one, to hell with all this shit, I’m going to hang myself from a lamppost and let the wind whip me around like an old rag” (78-79).
During the final trials of Mictlān, the soul is stripped of what is left of its earthly identity. By this point, its flesh has been flayed completely; it is merely a skeleton. The final piece it must surrender is its heart; the soul tears open its chest and sacrifices its heart to a jaguar. This stage is reflected in Makina’s brother’s refusal to come home, which makes her feel “like he was ripping out her heart, like he was cleanly extracting it and placing it in a plastic bag and storing it in the fridge to eat later” (93-94). “The Snake that Lies in Wait” refers to the danger posed by the police officer, and, more broadly, racial profiling by officials. This passage has its mythic parallel in the giant lizard Xochilonal, who swims in dark water the soul must pass through. The final chapter, “The Obsidian Place with no Windows or Holes for the Smoke,” refers to the darkness of the last level of Mictlān, where the god and goddess of death, Mictlāntēcutli and Mictēcacihuātl, dwell. Mictlāntēcutli, who is depicted as having a skull for a face, is evoked by the man who hands Makina the folder containing her new identity. He is described as “a tall, thin man draped in a baggy leather jacket. He had protruding teeth that yellowed his enormous smile” (106). There are several interpretations of what happens to the soul at this point. It may be assumed into the god of death himself, cease to exist altogether, or be reincarnated. Herrera chose this last outcome for Makina. Though she has been “skinned” like the mythological soul, she is offered a new life and identity, a figurative rebirth in a new country and new culture (106).
The North and the South
While it can be assumed that the novel is about relations between Mexico and the United States, these names are rarely or never used in the English translation. Instead, their relative cardinal directions are used to describe them: “South” stands in for Mexico, while “North” signifies the United States. Aspects of culture, too, are rendered as metonyms. (A metonym is a rhetorical device whereby an author replaces the name of a thing with something associated with it. Referring to a monarchy as “the crown,” a car as “wheels,” or a particular food as a “dish” are examples of metonyms.)
Makina comes from “Little Town,” a name so non-specific that it could stand for just about anywhere. The “Big Chilango,” on the other hand, specifically refers to Mexico City: “Chilango” is slang for a resident of the Mexican capital. “Latin” functions as a stand-in for both the Spanish language and a racial and cultural identifier. “Anglo” is used to signify the English language and white people from the North. While Makina and several other Latin characters speak and understand Anglo, the term is never applied to them as a descriptor. This use of Anglo and Latin draws attention to the linguistic roots of English and Spanish, emphasizing the historical backbone of the novel hidden under the surface.
Signs Preceding the End of the World emphasizes the hybridization of language inherent in border regions. Once she is in the North, Makina begins to recognize a new language created by Latin-speaking immigrants. Makina sees this creation as “the world happening anew […] promising other things, signifying other things, producing different objects” (66). Aspects of one word in either Anglo or Latin are substituted for the word itself to fill gaps in the speaker’s vocabulary. Makina reflects that “using in one tongue the word for a thing in the other makes the attributes of both resound: if you say Give me fire when they say Give me a light, what is to be learned about fire, light and the act of giving?” (66). This process has its equivalent in real-life linguistic hybrids, such as Chicano Spanish, a colloquial and highly regional nonstandard form of Spanish spoken by some Mexicans. North and South (along with Anglo and Latin) function as symbols not only of the United States and Mexico but of all the artificial boundaries (political, linguistic, and social), which are constantly undermined by the complex reality of people and communities making a place for themselves and creating their lives.
The Switchboard and the Cell Phone
Makina is the operator of the Little Town switchboard, which places her in a position of great responsibility and respect. She is the chief facilitator of communication. Makina’s name (a slang way to spell “machina,” or “machine” in Spanish) may also be a pun on “answering machine,” because her job is to be the village’s answering machine. The switchboard is a symbol of the South, in contrast with the cell phone, which expresses the culture of the North. Makina recalls how “one of the first to strike it rich after going north came back to the Village all full of himself, all la-di-da, all fancy clothes and watches and new words he’d be able to say into his new phone” (44). Wealth has caused the young man to approach his old home and his people with a dismissive, condescending attitude. It ultimately results in his humiliation, however, when his phone call fails, and Makina tells him, “Maybe you should have bought a few cell towers, too?” (45). The impersonal efficiency that is the hallmark of communication in the North, symbolized by the cell phone and missing cell towers, does not translate to the South, where indirect communication facilitated by Makina and the switchboard is the norm.
