Vegetation

Comala's residents tend to be pretty two-faced, and so does its vegetation. We get two totally different kinds of descriptions of vegetation in this novel. One, which is mostly related with Dolores' memories of a beautiful town, are lovely and pretty dang pastoral. The other kind relates the vegetation to the abandonment and ruin of the town, and is appropriately depressing.

First, here's an example of Dolores' nostalgic idea of the town: "Just as you pass the gate of Los Colimotes there's a beautiful view of a green plain tinged with the yellow of ripe corn" (2.9). That's nice enough… except it has basically nothing to do with reality when Juan arrives.

Here's what he really sees:

Nothing but abandoned houses, their empty doorways overgrown with weeds. What had the stranger told me they were called? "La gobernadora, senor. Creosote bush. A plague that takes over a person's house the minute he leaves. You'll see." (3.4)

In this example the vegetation represents death and the absence of humanity. Creosote bushes are notable because they're total leeches: They inhibit the growth of nearby plants in order to get more water for themselves.

Huh. Killing off nearby organisms because of greed? Sounds like Pedro Páramo himself. And the novel is well aware of Pedro's creosote bush-like tendencies: "It had all begun, he thought, when Pedro Páramo, from the low thing he was, made something of himself. He flourished like a weed" (40.3). Even the priest thinks of Pedro as a weedy sort of gentleman.

The priest has more ideas about plants and Comala. He seems to believe that the earth is cursed, because the plants he tries to grow there don't flourish.

"… I've tried to grow grapes over in Comala. They don't bear. Only guavas and oranges: bitter oranges and bitter guavas. I've forgotten the taste of sweet fruit. Do you remember the China guavas we had in the seminary? The peaches? The tangerines that shed their skin at a touch? I brought seeds here. A few, just a small pouch. Afterward, I felt it would have been better to leave them where they were, since I only brought them here to die."

"And yet, Father, they say that the earth of Comala is good. What a shame the land is all in the hands of one man." (40.53-54)

Here the fruit is working as a metaphor for the people, the souls of Comala that the priest is supposed to be taking care of and nurturing. He finds it impossible to care for them, however, because "one man" (we're definitely talking about Pedro) controls the entire town, including the souls of the townsfolk.

The priest doesn't blame the land itself—the earth, after all, is good—but he thinks that Pedro's greed has poisoned the earth and made Comala an infertile place in the agricultural, human, and spiritual senses. Pedro's poor management and evil grabs for power have insured that Comala is full of bitterness.