Under the Volcano

One of the most interesting themes of Under the Volcano is the notion of one’s right to self-determination in the face of encroaching interference. This theme operates on two levels in the novel: the level of international relations and the level of personal struggle. The novel is set to the political backdrop of the Spanish Civil War and its ripple effect on politics across the globe. Hugh is incredibly interested and invested in the conflict and often makes conversation about it. His approach to the conflict takes into consideration the reasons driving the fighting and the role other European nations have in resolving it. On a less general level, the Consul seeks to claim his right to self-determination in relation to his drinking. While his control over his own decisions is impacted by his addiction to alcohol, the immense pressure he feels from his loved ones to give up drinking drives him to a confrontation with them that catalyzes the final events, and deaths, of the novel.

The Spanish Civil War is at various times a topic of discussion in the book, and yet there is no more clear demonstration of its connection to this theme than in Chapter 10. While the Consul has been lost in a blackout, only hearing bits and pieces of what is going on around him, Hugh and Yvonne discuss the fate of the man they found on the road and the tragedy of no one helping him. The Consul, snapping back into the conversation, immediately associates this predicament with the interference of other nations in the Spanish Civil War and declares, “Can’t you see there’s a sort of determinism about the fate of nations? They seem to get what they deserve in the long run” (322). His point being that no matter how much other countries interfere for their own benefit, consequences for the nation being interfered with still arise. The Consul goes further, even, explaining the real motive behind such inferences:

Of the motives for interference; merely a passion for fatality half the time. Curiosity. Experience—very natural…But nothing constructive at bottom, only acceptance really, a piddling contemptible acceptance of the state of affairs that flatters one into feeling thus noble or useful! (324).

The Consul asserts that any interference is driven by a selfish need to feel important or helpful. 

The Consul, berating Hugh, takes his thesis on interference a step further by bringing it down to the personal level, and involving Yvonne in it as well. He equates himself with one of the “poor little defenceless” countries he has been discussing and frames his addiction to alcohol as the conflict drawing interference. He accuses both Hugh and Yvonne of having ulterior motives for helping him: He believes they have been carrying on a romance of their own and have been using the excuse of helping him to be together. He decides that if they are motivated by self-interest, then so should he be. Before storming out, the Consul places himself in the position of war-torn Spain:

True, I’ve been tempted to talk peace. I’ve been beguiled by your offers of a sober and non-alcoholic Paradise. At least I suppose that’s what you’ve been working around towards all day. But now I’ve made up my melodramatic little mind, what’s left of it, just enough to make up (326-27).

He refuses to seek a fresh start somewhere other than Mexico and instead decides to flee in the name of self-determination. His rebuke of his loved ones is most certainly driven by his addiction to alcohol, but his justification is drawn along the lines of his own international politics.

Nature takes a unique role in Under the Volcano. It is rarely observed in real time by the characters but is rather a subject of their conjectures, plans, and longings. Of all the characters, Yvonne is most invested in nature being a healing force; she hopes to remove the Consul from a toxic town to the isolated wilderness of Canada. Yvonne believes that owning and operating a farm will help the Consul to refocus his life and overcome his addiction to alcohol. Yvonne invests so much hope in this plan and is so certain that this will be her future that when she dies, her hoped-for future burns with her.

Yvonne returns to Quauhnahuac with the plan of leaving with the Consul. She believes that the social environment in the town and surrounding area is not conducive to his recovery, and she believes that the only way to succeed in that endeavor is to have the fight in the isolation of nature. Her plan comes together as she rides with Hugh, who suggests a course of action: “Buy a shack slap spang on the sea […] No phone. No rent. No consulate. Be a squatter. Call on your pioneer ancestors. Water from the well. Chop your own wood” (127). Hugh suggests that Yvonne and the Consul live in conjunction with nature and use nature to help the Consul fight his addiction. In rural Canada, the Consul won’t have cantinas all around him, and with a less agreeable climate, real, hard work will have to be put into the land to ensure a successful winter. It is not only the change in lifestyle that will help the Consul, but also the landscape around them that will help him connect to other aspects of life. 

The first step in this healing process is getting the Consul to leave. However, as the fateful day lengthens, and he spends more time in Quauhnahuac and the surrounding area, the dream of a new life in Canada fades. When Yvonne is trampled and killed by the same horse that is spooked by the gunshot that kills the Consul, she is too late to save the Consul. In her dying moments, Yvonne sees the house in Canada:

It was on fire, everything was burning, the dream was burning, the house was burning, yet here they stood an instant, Geoffrey and she, inside it, inside the house, wringing their hands, and everything seemed all right, in its right place, the house was still there, everything dear and natural and familiar, save that the roof was on fire (349-50).

Yvonne’s hope of a better future achieved through connection to nature burns as her life fizzles out. She and the Consul die one after the other, and both deaths could have been avoided if they had left earlier. In their new setting in Canada, they would have been alone, away from the crime and political dysfunction of Quauhnahuac that was their undoing.