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At the center, both the false and the true one, of houses of assignation
and zones of tolerance are the prostitutes, as much indispensable as they
are belittled, human beings at the disposal of pleasure and scandal in
the abstract, which is also persecution as a real fact.
T
he phenomenon of the whore and female prostitutes during the
early years of the twentieth century in Mexico intersects with two
features central to the project of modernity: the systematic orga-
nization of business and the generalized exploitation of women. Prosti-
tution and the generalized exploitation of women stretch back to times
immemorial, but there can be little doubt that the social outburst of mo-
dernity could hardly exclude, as in everything, these two universal phe-
nomena. If prostitution depended on the overdetermined eroticization
of the female body, the culture of modernity—modernism, in a word—
provided the cultural practices to stimulate this excess valorization. If it
is undeniable that modernity included a mythification of woman, in the
interests of producing a specific patriarchal social model, that involved en-
shrining icons of sacred matrimony and sacrosanct maternity, the simple
truth is that what is more fascinating are the women who, in Dijkstra’s apt
phrase, were “idols of perversity.”1
As a consequence, no matter how much one might, today, construct
a defense of prostitution as body-based employment like any other and
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that was exchanged as part of the ritual of formal visits and contained the
image of the person visiting, it is important to remember that photogra-
phy also lent itself from the time of its invention to giving a new image-
based dimension to anecdotal accounts of sexual practices: pornography
now had another extremely potent vehicle for its divulgation. In the realm
of feminine prostitution as much as in that of homoerotic pursuits, two
exemplars of high modernity, photography served to provide a priceless
aide-mémoire (see Waugh; Mavor; Köhler).
When one opens Vargas’s dossier, it is hardly possible to be surprised
at the array of naked or seminaked women. We can, today, hardly expect
to discover corporal novelties, largely because the widespread publication
of images of women’s bodies from time immemorial has achieved such
ubiquity that one hardly pays attention anymore, since there is so little
new to see. Aside from contortionist erotic poses of the body or unheard
of manipulative practices, women’s bodies, although always a source of
delight, no longer surprise. Only the grotesque stance of a Joel-Peter Wit-
kin could be capable of providing surprising images of the female body.
It goes without saying that the plastic optics of photography allows us
a constantly renewed gaze at all material phenomena, and, hence, the
possibilities for framing are innumerable. By the same token, although
no one any longer is astonished at the photographic exploitation of the
feminine body in the contemporary world, there is a certain frisson that
derives from the realization that our most respectable great-grandfathers
had the same interests and that, more than likely, one of the women por-
trayed here might just possibly be one’s own great-grandmother . . .
But such mitigating circumstances aside, the greatest enchantment
and astonishment that arise from the photographs in the Vargas dos-
sier do not have to do with the bodies of the women as such, but with
their setting in the interior and exterior spaces of the turn-of-the-century
Mexico of a hundred years ago.3 There is a really remarkable disconnect
in these images we have the privilege of seeing all together (by contrast
with the original spectators, who certainly must have seen them in small
installments owing to the nature of their commercial or semicommercial
distribution). Such a disconnect has to do with one of the most formi-
dable characteristics of Latin American modernism: the attempt to meld
cultural motifs of a profoundly classical origin (with certain derivations to
be found in Western Europe) with the harsh landscape realities of Latin
America that had little to do with the origins of such motifs. If it is true
that literature could transcend such contradictions by placing its texts out-
side of Latin America or simply ignoring its geophysical parameters, the
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42
and feet hang beyond the edge of the table as the ends of a runner might
do. One cannot help but take in the phallic features that are part of the
excess of the worked detail of the table that puts the naked woman on
decorative exhibition.
While almost half of the images in La casa de citas place woman in
this sort of fantasy box that is the interior décor of the architecture of
modernity, the other half concern a surprising dislocation of décor,
whereby the female nude is thrust into the hostile landscape of the cen-
tral Mexican mesa. Bernardo de Balbuena could take pride, in his La
grandeza mexicana (Mexican greatness; 1604), that this Valle de Anáhuac
was another Tempe:
Balbuena could be certain that none of his readers in the Spanish court
possessed reliable photographs that might contradict him. Nevertheless,
the shock is nothing short of jarring when the anonymous photographer
or photographers come up with the brilliant idea of taking the women
from the sporting dens outside to place them in the Mexican countryside
(the place where many of the women in the photographs, one can well
surmise, had come from, as in the case of Santa, the namesake country
maiden forced by rape to become an urban prostitute in Federico Gam-
boa’s 1903 novel). Although in many cases the women are simply ar-
ranged in poses with the landscape in the background, in other cases one
takes note of the attempt to create an artistic composition that echoes the
ones already described in terms of the metaphor of the fantasy box. For
example, there is a series of four photographs in which the two women
(always the same ones) are posed amidst the rushing waters of a rapids.
They are aquatic nymphs, Mexican Nereids whose beauty interacts with
the elements of nature. Although the fifty daughters of Nereus and Doris
are often represented as inhabitants of the deep and turbulent oceanic
waters (as in the case of the acclaimed masterpiece of sculpture by the Ar-
gentine Lola Mora), there are also many images of them as delicate fairies
who splash around in serene pools of waters and streamlets.
In the case of the Mexican nymphs, we see them sitting on top of enor-
mous rocks, some larger than they are, and in one case they are semisub-
43
merged in the powerful currents of the rapids. In one of the four images,
the attempt to achieve a classic tableau is apparent.
Despite all the efforts to direct the gaze of the viewer of this photogra-
phy toward the paradigmatic models the women represent in contexts of
the elegance to which high modernity aspired or against a Mexican land-
scape that is to be a remaking of Balbuena’s new Tempe (yet the images
of the women posed against the backdrop of majestic agave plants are
in particular almost truculent), there is a fundamental characteristic that
prevails above all else. It is the way in which the body placed on view is,
once and for all, the body of a Mexican woman. Even if in the most high-
ly priced brothels of Latin America the little French girls were the most
highly prized object of attention for their delicacy, refinement, and erotic
savoir, not all of the clients could aspire to such heights, and local flesh
is what prevails, even in the most refined of sporting dens, with all the
dimensions imposed by the ethnic origin, diet, lifestyle, circumstances of
personal and collective health, and the personal story of each woman in
terms of the trajectory that ended for her in barrio galante.5 Each viewer
will measure and appreciate in his own way the bodies of the women who
gaze back at us across a century in Vargas’s dossier, but in one photograph
after another, these are bodies of women who are Mexican, regardless of
the international privilege that the interior and exterior settings pretend to
model. In this sense, one of the most eloquent photographs has to do with
two women snuggling together on a bed, comfortable in their relationship
of friendship and intimacy, with or without the lesbian dimension to be
found in the back rooms of the women’s world of the whorehouses. The
Mexicanness of the two, and especially of the one on the left, is what most
gives the touch of authenticity to these long-lost images.
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