This is a continuation from yesterday’s post. For funnsies, I went back to “The Part About The Critics” to refresh myself about what was originally noted about Amalfitano and Guerra. Page 128:
None of the three critics failed to notice Amalfitano’s constant companion that night. He was a handsome and athletic young man with very fair skin, who clung to the Chilean professor like a limpet and every so often gestured theatrically and grimaced like a madman, and other times just listened to what Amalfitano was saying, constantly shaking his head, small movements of almost spasmodic denial, as if he were abiding only grudgingly by the universal rules of conversation or as if Amalfitano’s words (reprimands, to judge by his face) never hit their mark….
The suspicion was: that Amalfitano might be gay, and the vehement young man his lover, a dreadful suspicion since by the end of the night they had learned that the young man in question was the only son of Dean Guerra, Amalfitano’s direct boss and the rector’s righthand man, and unless they were greatly mistaken, Guerra had no idea what kind of business his son was mixed up in.
“This could end in a hail of bullets,” said Espinoza.
My man, Espinoza! With the foreshadowing for the win!
Finally, pages 129-130:
They returned to find Amalfitano waiting for them with Guerra’s son, who invited them to dinner at a restaurant specializing in the food of northern Mexico. The place had a certain ambience, but the food didn’t) agree with them at all. They discovered, or believed they discovered, that the bond between the Chilean professor and the dean’s son was more socratic than homosexual, and this in some way put their minds at ease, since the three of them had grown inexplicably fond of Amalfitano.
So, yeah, some sort of exploration of homosexuality (perception of, figurative descriptions of, etc) is undoubtedly a theme underlying this. I suspect a connection between this and the misogynistic murders are inextricably linked.