Cover of You Dreamed of Empires

    You Dreamed of Empires

    by Álvaro Enrigue
    You Dreamed of Empires is a bold, genre-defying reimagining of the encounter between Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés and Aztec emperor Moctezuma in 1519. Blending historical fiction, magical realism, and dark humor, the novel subverts traditional conquest narratives by portraying the clash of civilizations as a surreal, hallucinatory struggle for power. The story unfolds through shifting perspectives—Cortés’s ambition, Moctezuma’s mysticism, and the cunning of Malinalli (La Malinche), the Indigenous translator who navigates both worlds. With dreamlike sequences, philosophical musings, and razor-sharp prose, Enrigue dismantles colonial myths, exposing the absurdity and brutality of empire-building.

    The chap­ter opens with the cihua­coatl, Tilipo­ton­qui, nav­i­gat­ing the chaot­ic after­math of polit­i­cal deci­sions made by Emper­or Moctezu­ma, par­tic­u­lar­ly regard­ing the arrival of the Cax­til­te­ca (Span­ish con­quis­ta­dors). The empire is beset by crises: veni­son short­ages due to Otomí war­riors dis­rupt­ing hunts, a Tex­co­ca civ­il war affect­ing lake trade, and the resur­gence of the Quet­zal­coatl cult. Beneath these sur­face issues puls­es a deep­er tension—Moctezuma’s wan­ing trust in Tilipo­ton­qui and rumors of rebel­lion. The emperor’s iso­la­tion­ist ten­den­cies, replac­ing offi­cials with loy­al­ists, have crip­pled gov­er­nance, leav­ing Tilipo­ton­qui to man­age incom­pe­tence and unrest. Mean­while, the Coun­cil con­venes mys­te­ri­ous­ly, sum­moned by Tilipotonqui’s own son, Tla­caelel, sig­nal­ing a shift in pow­er dynam­ics. The cihua­coatl grap­ples with the impli­ca­tions, sus­pect­ing his role is being under­mined as the empire teeters on the brink.

    Moctezuma’s errat­ic behavior—hallucinogen use, para­noia, and detachment—contrasts with his past bril­liance. Flash­backs reveal his obses­sion with the Caxtilteca’s “cahuayos” (hors­es), which he views as key to impe­r­i­al dom­i­nance. His sis­ter, Ato­tox­ili, cri­tiques his short­sight­ed­ness, warn­ing that inter­nal strife (rebel­lions in Tex­co­co, Tlaxcala’s defi­ance) out­weighs the new­com­ers’ threat. Yet Moctezu­ma, swayed by priests and visions, insists on diplo­ma­cy. A piv­otal meet­ing with the Major­do­mo of the House of Dark­ness under­scores his tac­ti­cal genius but also his grow­ing reliance on manipulation—spreading myths of Quetzalcoatl’s return to con­trol the nar­ra­tive. Tilipo­ton­qui, though skep­ti­cal, aligns with Moctezuma’s plans, only to lat­er regret enabling the Caxtilteca’s advance, which desta­bi­lizes the empire fur­ther.

    Par­al­lel to polit­i­cal dra­ma, cul­tur­al ten­sions emerge. The Span­ish, led by Cortés, oscil­late between awe and bru­tal­i­ty. Cortés, inse­cure about his impend­ing meet­ing with Moctezu­ma, asserts dom­i­nance by rap­ing Mali­nal­li (La Mal­inche), his trans­la­tor, while dream­ing of Chris­tian­iz­ing the city. Mean­while, Jazmín Caldera, a Span­ish cap­tain dis­guised as a Col­hua noble, explores Tenochtitlan’s mar­ket and tem­ple com­plex, mar­veling at its order but sens­ing impend­ing doom. The Mex­i­ca, too, are divid­ed: Cuauhte­moc, Moctezuma’s son-in-law, pre­pares for war, while Ato­tox­ili nego­ti­ates with Mali­nal­li, offer­ing pro­tec­tion in exchange for intel­li­gence. The chap­ter high­lights the col­li­sion of worldviews—Spanish prag­ma­tism ver­sus Mex­i­ca spirituality—and the per­son­al betray­als that mir­ror larg­er con­flicts.

    The chap­ter crescen­dos with rit­u­al and fore­shad­ow­ing. Moctezu­ma, high on mush­rooms, con­sults the god Huitzilopochtli in the tem­ple, receiv­ing cryp­tic advice about “many pos­si­ble futures.” Simul­ta­ne­ous­ly, Cortés and his men des­e­crate the tem­ple, vom­it­ing at the sight of sac­ri­fices, their hubris con­trast­ing with Aguilar’s cau­tion. Caldera flees the Span­ish camp, sym­bol­iz­ing dis­sent with­in the con­quis­ta­dors. As drums sig­nal night­fall, the city’s bridges rise, trap­ping the Spanish—a metaphor for the empire’s clos­ing grip on its fate. Tilipo­ton­qui, Cuauhte­moc, and Ato­tox­ili con­vene, acknowl­edg­ing Moctezuma’s decline but cling­ing to loy­al­ty. The chap­ter ends with Moctezuma’s detached murmur—“Hmm, it’s late for my bath”—underscoring his trag­ic blind­ness to the cat­a­clysm approach­ing.

    Themes: Pow­er ero­sion, cul­tur­al dis­so­nance, and the ten­sion between strat­e­gy and super­sti­tion dom­i­nate the chap­ter, set­ting the stage for the empire’s down­fall.

    FAQs

    • Why is Moctezuma obsessed with the Caxtilteca’s "cahuayos" (horses)?
    • Moctezuma sees them as a military advantage to crush enemies like the Purepecha, but his fixation blinds him to the empire’s internal crises (rebellions, priestly dissent). Atotoxili warns this obsession is reckless.
    • What does the "ant" metaphor mean?
    • Repeated by Tilipotonqui and the Council, it references a Mexica fable about silent perseverance. Here, it hints at Moctezuma’s hidden strategies—or Tilipotonqui’s impending downfall.
    • Why does Cortés rape Malinalli before reading Livy?
    • It reflects his insecurity before meeting Moctezuma. Violence restores his sense of control, while Livy’s Ab Urbe Condita fuels his delusions of imperial destiny.
    • What’s the significance of Jazmín Caldera disguising himself as a Colhua?
    • His exploration of Tenochtitlan mirrors Spanish awe at its order, but his eventual desertion foreshadows betrayal within Cortés’s ranks.
    • Why does Moctezuma consult Huitzilopochtli while high on mushrooms?
    • His drug-induced visions (e.g., "many possible futures") underscore his detachment from reality, contrasting with the pragmatic Cuauhtemoc and Tilipotonqui.

    Quotes

    • On Moctezuma’s Decline:
    • "The emperor is like the ant. He doesn’t speak. And later? Later he does speak."
    • — The Secretary of Maps, Boundaries, Tributes, and Other Things
    • (Highlights Moctezuma’s inscrutable, erratic leadership.)
    • Atotoxili’s Warning:
    • "You’ve given the Caxtilteca time to ally with all your enemies while your army protected them from a distance."
    • — Atotoxili to Moctezuma
    • (Critiques his fatal miscalculation with the Spanish.)
    • Cortés’s Brutality:
    • "Just wait, son of a bitch."
    • — Malinalli (in Popoloca), after Cortés rapes her
    • (Foreshadows her eventual betrayal or alliance shift.)
    • Cultural Dissonance:
    • "A city like this wasn’t built by being nice to foreigners."
    • — Aguilar to Cortés
    • (Warns against underestimating the Mexica’s ruthlessness.)
    • Moctezuma’s Tragic Detachment:
    • "Hmm, it’s late for my bath."
    • — Moctezuma’s closing line
    • (Symbolizes his denial as the empire collapses around him.)

    Quotes

    On Moctezuma’s Decline:

    FAQs

    Why is Moctezuma obsessed with the Caxtilteca’s "cahuayos" (horses)?
    Note