"Malinche's Conquest"

I first encountered Malinche more than a decade ago in The Woman Who Slept With Men to Take the War Out of Them, by Deena Metzger:

The Narrator:
In the late afternoon, the Woman stretches across the bed, reading. To the author, it seems the successful conquest of Mexico resulted from the betrayal of Malintzi, the one they call La Malinche, the Indian girl who became Cortez's mistress and interpreter. She and twenty beautiful slaves sent to Cortez became the mothers of a new mixed race on the American continent.

The Woman:
Who protected you, Malintzi? When you were given as a gift, who taught you not to be the gift? Who accompanies you on that terrible march? Who holds your hand as you enter his bed? . . . . And your brothers, why didn't they steal you away? They call you La Malinche. La Chingada. The slit. The open one. The traitor. The wound.

Malinche is a minor character in the work, but she is evoked multiple times as the nameless Woman struggles to write her own story about the relationship between a woman named Ada and the General of the army who occupies her village.

I didn't encounter Malinche again until earlier this year, when Amazon recommended a book called Malinche's Conquest. I made a note of it, but it remained in the "wait until later" pile in my shopping cart for months. I bought it a week or so ago, expecting a historical novel. What I got instead was a non-fiction account of author Anna Lanyon's quest to discover the truth about Malinche.

I almost sent the book back. I was in the mood to become engrossed in a novel, not wade through dry historical facts. But there was nothing else to read, so I gave it a try -- and within a very short time I was engrossed.

Malinche's Conquest is what I consider to be the best kind of historical writing: blending the personal with the academic, scrupulously identifying source material and critiquing it, and exploring folklore, local tradition, and supposition without drawing hard conclusions from evocative suggestion. Layton describes how her own background as a linguist added to her fascination about this multilingual woman. She describes her trips to Mexico and the conversations she has with people from all walks of life about the emotional impact Malinche still has. She describes journeys through the rural countryside in search of villages mentioned in the old records. She describes gardens, rivers, and a volcano bearing Malinche's name. She talks about hours spent in archives studying original documents, about the soldier-priest whose memoirs of journeying with Cortez are the only first-person accounts we have of Malinche -- a woman whose tongue made her invaluable to a major episode in world history, but whose own words are forever lost.

Layton explains what the official records tell us about Malinche, and she both mourns and celebrates the mystery that surrounds her. Unlike many writers who love their subjects, she does not allow her wishful thinking to start drawing conclusions where there is no evidence. (My pet peeve while working on my sacred prostitution thesis.)

I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in history, women's history, Mexican history, or just a good non-fiction read.