Manuel Puig’s Kiss of the Spider Woman, published by Seix Barral in 1976, became a landmark worldwide largely because of its later film adaptation in 1985. Even before that, in 1984, a small circle of friends in Eldense—Luis Fernando, Mariló, and Corpus—had already become keen observers of the work, and they formed a collaborative approach with their colleague Juan Antonio in a distinguished class on Hispano-American literature. They practiced this method long before the broader pedagogy of collaborative learning existed. The group assigned Puig’s novels to read and critique through a scheme they had crafted themselves. The Betrayal of Rita Hayworth, Puigs’s novel from 1968, was chosen partly because of the iconic title figure. The instructor would ask which artist the students admired most, comparing actors from different eras, and the dialogue would unfold from there, prompting lively discussions and personal connections to the text. In the end, the choice was driven by a fascination with cultural icons and the way they illuminate characters and motives within the narrative.
Rita Hayworth’s Betrayal stands as one of Puig’s most significant works. It marks a pillar for what follows, both thematically and formally. The book explores ambiguity, the lives of people who feel estranged from society, those who live on the edge, the ones who seldom fit into the prevailing norms of their era. Formally, Puig experiments with structure by dividing the work into two parts and sixteen chapters, employing a bold narrative approach that pushes the boundaries of conventional storytelling. A sense of cruel sentimentality threads through the text, shaping its particular mood and pace.
The reader is drawn back to The Betrayal of Rita Hayworth through recent viewing of a classic film, the Lady from Shanghai, directed by Orson Welles. The drama on screen mirrors the anger that drives characters in Puig’s pages, including the figure of Rita, whose rage is expressed through hair and costume as symbols of attempted reinvention. In rereading, the scene shifts to Coronel Vallejo, a fictional creation modeled on a realist setting reminiscent of a small, flatly delineated town. The landscape has a Pampa-like feel, and the residents move through everyday life with imperfect attitudes and imperfect judgments. The lives of Mirta, Berto, and their son Toto intertwine with a cast that appears in many guises across the narrative. Toto and Mirta frequently attend the town cinema, a habit Puig himself shared in his childhood, and the films become unconscious guides for their personal choices and social perceptions. In Toto, the cinema acts as a reference frame that subtly shapes his reality, even as he struggles to reconcile what he sees there with what he experiences at home.
Puig’s literary production aligns with the Spanish-American literary explosion yet remains sharply opposed to magical realism. In his writing, the author becomes almost invisible, letting characters speak directly; the author’s presence recedes into the background, with scenes often consisting of dialogue for just one participant or brief, focused exchanges. The text also incorporates documentary-like elements such as school papers, anonymous assignments, or letters, especially prominent in the final chapter. This stylistic display features a collage of narrative techniques, fragmentation, and altered temporal progression. The result is a vivid, cinematic-quality drama masquerading as a simple story.
All of this unfolds within the framework of a collaborative learning experience. The four scholars contributed ideas and engaged in deep discussions, producing a substantial piece of writing that reflects their shared insights and intense engagement. The experience culminates in a strong academic outcome, underscoring the value of collaborative analysis and mutual critique.
Why should readers tackle this novel? It rewards readers who enjoy inventing diverse characters and testing narrative boundaries. It offers a fresh way to consider the Spanish-American literary explosion, presenting a different lens on what is commonly understood about that movement. And, beyond literary craft, it speaks to broader truths about betrayal as a human condition. Rita Hayworth endures as a symbol, a touchstone for the multiple ways in which deception, performance, and memory intersect in art and life.