Some critics have tried to rationalize Acosta’s repeated chauvinism in “Revolt of the Cockroach People”  by claiming the bravado is all part of an attempt at humor or satire. To such literary criticism, the only way for Acosta and other Chicano authors to deal with the pain of racism is by presenting their struggles with the spice of humor. As one critic who offers insightful quotes about “Revolt of the Cockroach People” suggests, “Unattractive as his self-portrayal can be, given the sexism and homophobia it exhibits, this novel offers a unique representation regarding the mediation of political activism, memory, mourning and desire. Acosta is deeply invested in the prospect of working through profound injuries by engaging a critical humor that heightens the reader’s awareness of rhetorical dynamics and reading processes” (Gutierrez-Jones 114). While it is true that much of Brown’s personality in this text is over-the-top and tinged with cynicism and self-deprecating humor, it seems that this humor is reserved only for himself and women.

Quite simply put, there is something malicious about the way he speaks of women and himself. Other revolutionary men are taken quite seriously. For instance, when the Brown is talking about never having touched a Chicana, he states, “I haven’t even held the hand of a Mexican woman, excepting whores who are all the same anyhow” (Acosta 29). While this might seem as a way of using humor to deal with pain, it only comes across as cruel and callous. This bitter sentiment is not present anywhere else and women alone seem the targets of his ogling and thinly disguised bitterness. In terms of the Chicano Power movement he is describing, it is hard then to determine where women fit. The only women that get positive descriptions are those who have “huge knockers” or nice asses. Even when Brown describes being at a college where a brilliant young woman is speaking, all he can do is refer to her as the “Black Beauty” (Acosta 177). This sucks the life out of anything meaningful this young woman had to say and instantly reduces her to a sex object or pretty scenery to form the background of this intensely male fight.

One scholar notes that one of the very cornerstones of the Chicano movement was itself firmly rooted in patriarchal traditions when she states in one of the important quotes from “Revolt of the Cockroach People” by Oscar Zeta Acosta, “the myth of Aztlán calls for the reclamation of “the land of our birth,” a lost or stolen motherland that was taken involuntarily, and that the Chicano “hijos de Cuauhtémoc” were destined to redeem through the political as well as the cultural manifestations of El Movimiento. In this gendered relationship to land (or homeland), sexual politics is clearly articulated into the ideology of Aztlán and its representation in the arts” (Gaspar 103). This idea of women being bearers of the traditional and men blazing new trails runs throughout Revolt of the Cockroach People. At one point in the text, this image of the male conqueror and female supporter or sexualized mother is especially clear. Brown watches as a man sits among his “harem” of women, reveling in his role. “David Hippie brings out his guitar…I was in that position a few years ago. Seven fine broads at his side. They sing songs of the Mexican Revolution which they learned from their grandmothers” (Acosta 84). This almost looks like an image of a cowboy in a film surrounded by prostitutes at a local saloon. They can take care of him, smooth his hair, and sing “women-songs” but this is merely a passing event for the man.

The reader is to get the impression that Brown is a man on the go, accomplishing things while his merry band of women is left alone and perhaps pregnant. While that might be a dramatic scenario to impose, it does seem that women, especially Chicanas in “Revolt of the Cockroach People” unable to break out of their traditional roles, flock to these new cowboys and instead of being liberated by the movement, they are even further subordinated by notion of “free love” in this society. Despite all the discussions of revolutionary activity, there is not one single instance in this text in which a female performs a “male” act (causing destruction or furthering the cause through other means) without being described according to her physical characteristics. Instead of being represented as vital members of the community in revolt, they are the bystanders, the lover-givers, or if nothing else, the really hot chicks.

In sum, it is hard to accept the idea that Brown (or Acosta) is merely using humor to make a painful statement about women in Revolt of the Cockroach People. There seems to be a direct and focused attempt to keep this movement within the homosocial bonds that regulate old cowboy movies. For this reason, it is impossible to see this book as entirely representative of an experience during the Brown Power movement, but perhaps that is only because it is hard to accept that all of the ideas about the “power” of women in the 1960s was not all it was cracked up to be for Chicanas or any women involved.

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Works Cited

Acosta, Oscar Zeta. Teh Revolt of the Cockroach People. New York: Vintage P, 1973.

Gaspar de Alba. “There’s No Place Like Aztlan: Embodied Aesthetics in Chicana Art.” CR: New Centennial Review 4.2 (2004): 103

Gutierrez-Jones. “Humor, Literacy and Chicano Culture.” Comparative Literature Studies 40.2 (2003): 112

Hames-Garcia. “Dr. Gonzo’s Carnival: The Testimonial Satires of Oscar Zeta Acosta.” American Literature 72.3 (2000): 46