A sorrowful analysis of “And of Clay Are We Created” by Isabel Allende
The short story “And of Clay Are We Created” by Isabel Allende has many interpretations of what may be considered the central theme and tone. From my perspective, the general tone of this short story demonstrates a tragic hopefulness; a corrupted, bittersweet confrontation with the realities of natural disaster, and its effects on the body and mind.
When reading the piece, there were a few themes that stood out, however, what I saw as the central theme of the story was the feeling of being stuck behind barriers, and what confronting hard truths consists of, making it difficult to be able to move on from something due to an insurmountable blockage.
The main settings, the location with Rolf and Azucena, as well as the home that the narrator resides, fit these themes as well. In a literal sense, Azucena is stuck underneath the rubble with only a small portion of her top half exposed. The clay forms around her and keeps her stuck in place, “The mud was like quicksand around her, and anyone attempting to reach her was in danger of sinking. They threw a rope to her that she made no effort to grasp until they shouted to her to catch it; then she pulled a hand from the mire and tried to move, but immediately sank a little deeper.” I believe it is easy to say that she is stuck in time as well. She is only 13, and mentions near the end of the story that she has never known love, “I was there when she told him that in all her thirteen years no boy had ever loved her and that it was a pity to leave this world without knowing love.” Her being stuck underneath the rubble makes her confront her station in life. She is forever stuck as the person she is when the rubble constricts her. I believe the theme of confronting hard truths from Azucena’s perspective comes multiple times throughout the work, mainly due to the many times she is confronted with how her being stuck will most likely end in her death.
In another instance, they mention that the lost or dead may be within the clay, which had the potential to carry sickness, “To top it all, the clay contaminated by decomposing bodies threatened the living with an outbreak of epidemics.” While it can be read literally, to me, I read it as the earth being tainted, the very land itself imprinted with the tragedy that befell the area.
As for Rolf’s wife, she constantly feels stuck in terms of lack of agency. She wants to support her husband, she wants to help the situation in any way she can, and she wants to be with him in such a drastic time. Her confrontation with the hard truths of the situation are most likely something that the other main characters felt; there is so much that we can hope could be done, but often the callous nature of others, or the unfortunate matter at hand can elongate or prevent entirely a solution. She cannot get closer as her blockage is, not seen as the distance in miles, but rather the barrier that is the television screen. She mentions she “…began receiving sharper pictures and clearer sound; the distance seemed suddenly compressed, and I had the horrible sensation that Azucena and Rolf were by my side, separated from me by impenetrable glass.” All at once she feels a close and intimate connection between herself and them, while also feeling an all-consuming sense of separation.
Lastly, this theme I believe is best exemplified through Rolf. He experiences the themes I listed multiple times; feeling stuck in his efforts to save Azucena; stuck and with no recourse as nobody else seems to care as much to find a pump, a simple object that can save a life, yet they can get television equipment in or allow a self-absorbed president to do their virtue-signaling tour around the zone; or Rolf feeling stuck from his past traumas that he had buried down. These issues clearly frustrate Rolf (And me!) because, I believe, his time sitting face-to-face with Azucena changed his perspective on the issue. He is now confronted with someone’s entire life being slowly whittled away, a very serious and traumatic event, while the others around them almost see her as a sorrowful monument of the tragedy, an accounted for death whilst she still lives, “The pictures we were receiving were not his assistant’s but those of other reporters who had appropriated Azucena, bestowing on her the pathetic responsibility of embodying the horror of what had happened in that place.” The hard truths he must confront are that he cannot save her, and his traumatic past that he can no longer avoid. Its stated: “Azucena had surrendered her fear to him and so, without wishing it, had obliged Rolf to confront his own. There, beside that hellhole of mud, it was impossible for Rolf to flee from himself any longer, and the visceral terror he had lived as a boy suddenly invaded him.” I believe that his realization that Azucena won’t make it is what prompts these thoughts, as he cannot “… [take] refuge behind a lens to test whether reality was more tolerable from that perspective.” anymore, as he is confronted with the intimacy and morbid reality of a child’s last days on Earth.
There are definitely other themes that can be presented, for example, the callous disregard of the masses towards the individual; the spectacle of human tragedy; the recognition that time moves on, because even if you are experiencing the absolute worst moments of your life, others could be having the best of theirs; or the delving into the consciousness of others, truly feeling and understanding another’s experiences in horrific situations. This story is beautiful and heart-breaking at the same time, and I believe it perfectly illustrates the human experience and the confrontation and understanding of the trauma that may come with it.
“You are back with me, but you are not the same man. I often accompany you to the station and we watch the videos of Azucena again; you study them intently, looking for something you could have done to save her, something you did not think of in time. Or maybe you study them to see yourself as if in a mirror, naked. Your cameras lie forgotten in a closet; you do not write or sing; you sit long hours before the window, staring at the mountains. Beside you, I wait for you to complete the voyage into yourself, for the old wounds to heal. I know that when you return from your nightmares, we shall again walk hand in hand, as before.”
