The House of the Scorpion

“Celia said it was a song to the Virgin. It occurred to Matt that this dove had come from the Virgin and that the feather meant She would watch over him here as She had done in the little house.”

When Matt is trapped in the servant’s quarters, he clings to any hope that the Virgin is watching over him and he is not alone. His reliance on the pure Virgin is in stark contrast with society’s accusations that clones are soulless, vile creatures worse than animals.

“Matt wasn’t trying to upset her. He couldn’t talk. When he tried to make the words, he was overcome with terror. To speak was to open a door into his carefully built fortress, and anything might rush inside.” 

After being saved from his isolation and cruel imprisonment in the servant’s quarters, Matt is so deeply scarred that he is unable to speak. He has built and maintained a carefully built fortress around his mind and heart to protect himself from cruel treatment and harm and is still unable to open up despite being safe with Celia.

“I’ll tell you this: El Patrón has his good side and his bad side. Very dark indeed is his majesty when he wants to be. When he was young, he made a choice, like a tree does when it decides to grow one way or the other. He grew large and green until he shadowed over the whole forest, but most of his branches are twisted.” 

Tam Lin carefully observes Matt’s actions and believes that just as any other human, Matt has the choice between right and wrong. Rather than treating Matt as a lowly, immoral animal, he treats him as having the same potential El Patrón had as a child. Tam Lin doesn’t force a predestined character on him as El Patrón’s clone. Rather, he insists on Matt’s own free will in carving his future and identity.

“But underneath Matt felt a hollowness. He understood he was only a photograph of a human, and that meant he wasn’t really important. Photographs could lie forgotten in drawers for years. They could be thrown away.” 

Despite having the best education both academically and artistically, Matt is affected by society’s belief that he is not a human. No matter the proof of his worth and abilities, he internalizes the belief that he can never have value no matter his achievements or character.

“He was in a rage to learn. He would excel, and then everyone would love him and forget he was a clone.” 

Frustrated with society’s imposed perception of his existence as a clone, Matt insists on proving that he is more than what people believe him to be. He believes that by excelling in his studies, he can prove the world wrong about his worth and become worthy of love.

“The senator didn’t know that María had kissed Matt on several occasions, just as she kissed Furball and anything else that pleased her. Matt knew this was different, though. He was humiliating her. If it had been Tom asking for the kiss, no one would have cared. People would have thought it cute for a boy to flirt with his novia. Matt wasn’t a boy. He was a beast.” 

At El Patrón’s birthday party, Matt realizes demanding a kiss from María is cruel only because he is a clone. Despite the affection she displays to him in private, he cannot do the same things as humans like Tom can simply because he is perceived as filthy and lowly. His demand is humiliating for María, and he knows it.

“Only at first Matt thought it was some kind of beast, so alien and terrible was its face […] Worst of all was the terrible energy that rolled through the trapped body. The creature never stopped moving. It was as though invisible snakes were rippling beneath the skin and forcing its arms and legs to move in a ceaseless bid for freedom […] Matt felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d never seen another clone. He’d only felt the weight of hatred humans had for such things.” 

When Matt faces MacGregor’s clone, he learns for the first time what most clones look and behave like. Lacking intelligence from birth, they truly become beastly creatures that resemble neither human nor animal. While the treatment of the clone is clearly unjust, Matt is unable to find any similarity between himself and it. His existence bears no resemblance to that of the clone strapped to the bed, and he is indistinguishable from human beings.

“I always say the truth is the best even when we find it unpleasant. Any rat in a sewer can lie. It’s how rats are. It’s what makes them rats. But a human doesn’t run and hide in dark places, because he’s something more. Lying is the most personal act of cowardice there is.” 

Tam Lin believes that Matt poisoned Furball and shames him for lying. While it pains Matt that Tam Lin accuses him, it is evidence of Tam Lin’s high expectations. Tam Lin sees Matt for his potential as a person and an equal, rather than an animal who knows nothing else.

“For the first time he realized what a terrible thing it was to be an eejit. He hadn’t known any of the others before their operation. They were simply there to do their boring jobs. But Rosa had been a real, though cruel and violent, person. Now, she was merely a shadow with the life sucked out of her.” 

Matt has seen the lifeless eejits for almost his entire childhood. However, seeing the stark difference between the once hateful Rosa and the stoic shadow she has become only highlights the cruelty of the process of transforming a human into an eejit. The author clearly makes an ethical argument about the inhumane nature of the process, for it completely destroys a person’s agency and identity.

“‘What…is this?’ growled the priest. […] ‘This does not belong here!’ the priest thundered. ‘This unbaptized limb of Satan has no right to make a mockery of this rite! Would you bring a dog to church?’ The people in line had halted. Their eyes glittered with malice.” 

When Celia takes Matt to attend El Viejo’s funeral, the priest’s outburst only highlights society’s perspective of clones. Matt is not even called he or she but “it,” as though he is an object. The priest compares him to a limb of Satan, lowering his existence to the lowest, most horrible creature that taints the pure setting of the church.

“Saint Francis didn’t say, ‘I’m going to punish you for all the wickedness you’ve done.’ He said, ‘Brother Wolf, today is a new day and you’re going to turn over a new leaf.’” 

Still believing that Matt murdered her dog Furball, María opens her heart to forgive Matt by giving him a chance to be a better person. Saint Francis’s teachings contrast the priest’s spiteful treatment of Matt—even animals can be shown mercy and given the opportunity to change for the better.

“The most amazing thing about dragons is that they know when anything, no matter how small, has been taken from their hoard. They can be in a deep slumber. But if some foolish lad creeps up in the middle of the night and takes only one coin, the dragon wakes up. You wouldn’t want to be that lad then. The dragon burns him right down to a lump of coal. And tosses him onto a heap with the other lumps of coal who made the mistake of trying to steal from a dragon hoard.” 

Tam Lin uses the metaphor of the dragon’s hoard to describe El Patrón’s greed and attachment to his wealth. Just as the dragon spares no one and hoards his treasures, El Patrón cannot bear to allow even the smallest bit of his wealth to be given away. El Patrón is feared and hated in the same way a dragon would be.

“El Patrón was moved by a motive very different from MacGregor’s. It was, he realized, simply vanity. When the old man looked at Matt, he saw himself: young, strong, and sound of mind. It was like looking into a mirror. The effect wouldn’t be the same if Matt were a drooling, blubbering thing on a hospital bed.” 

When Matt starts to question whether El Patrón truly wants to use him for transplants, he reasons that his intelligence wouldn’t have been left intact so uselessly. He realizes that El Patrón is so deeply vain that simply seeing his clone grow up reminds him of his youth and motivates him to live on in a way an unintelligent clone couldn’t.

“So many hints! So many clues! Like a pebble that starts an avalanche, Matt’s fear shook loose more and more memories. Why had Tam Lin given him a chest full of supplies and maps? Why had María run from him when they found MacGregor’s clone in the hospital? Because she knew! They all knew! Matt’s education and accomplishments were a sham. It didn’t matter how intelligent he was. In the end the only thing that mattered was how strong his heart was.” 

Matt begins piecing together the hints he has received over the years about his purpose. While no one has ever told him directly what his purpose is as El Patrón’s clone, he realizes that he truly has no other purpose than to provide his heart for a transplant. education, accomplishments, and intelligence serve no end as he is to be sacrificed to grant El Patrón another life.

“There were eight of us […] and only I lived to grow up. Don’t you think I’m owed those lives? […] I created you, Mi Vida, as God created Adam. […] Without me, you would have never seen a beautiful sunset or smelled the rain approaching on the wind. You would have never tasted cool water on a hot summer day. Or heard music or known the wonderful pleasure of creating it I gave you these things, Mi Vada. You...owe…me.” 

El Patrón strays from the usual story about his childhood and siblings that he recites to everyone on every occasion. He reveals that his singular focus on their deaths serves his belief that he is entitled to the lives they lost. Though Matt’s existence is a miraculous feat of science, El Patrón believes that Matt owes him for keeping his intelligence intact and providing his DNA. El Patrón reaches the epitome of ego and pride when he equates himself to a divine deity.

“Matt felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was, he realized, sorrow. There, on the high ridge of the Ajo Mountains, Matt gave himself over to grief. He wept for Celia trapped in the stables and for Tam Lin, who was trapped in a different way. […] But he wept for El Patrón, who deserved pity less than anyone but was closer to Matt than anyone in the world. In an odd way it felt as though El Patrón were still alive, and in one sense he was. For Matt still existed. As long as he survived, El Patrón had not vanished from the world.” 

When Matt finally leaves Opium, he turns back and mourns the life and people he has lost. His attachment and mourning are proof of his humanity. He is human at his core in that he cares for others no matter how cruel they have been to him.

“I don’t see much difference between that and sawing off the extra leg […] What you’re after is a horse that works hard and doesn’t waste time looking at flowers […] You keep telling us the orderly production of resources is vital to the general good of the people. It’s obvious we’re supposed to follow the rules and not walk slowly through meadows. But horses aren’t as smart as people. It makes sense to program them with computer chips.” 

Matt faces a similar oppression to El Patrón’s in the Keepers, albeit on a different scale. He equates the process of turning humans into eejits to that of the way the Keepers force the Lost Boys to abandon any form of individualism. In both instances, those in power oppress those beneath them to an extreme form of submission that destroys any semblance of agency and identity.

“It wasn’t the unfairness of the accusations that so hurt him as much as the venom that lay behind them. Matt thought he’d been accepted. He thought he’d at last come to an oasis—ugly and uncomfortable, but still an oasis—where he could feel welcome.” 

After finally finding the acceptance and friendship in the Lost Boys that Matt longed for his entire life, their accusations pain him more because of the isolation it makes him feel than for their unfairness. Matt’s lengthy experiences with isolation and ostracism have made him desperate for acceptance, and he knows all too well the bitterness of being alone.

“Matt understood the lesson all right. Even slavish obedience didn’t protect you from punishment.” 

After standing up to the Keepers for his friends countless times, Matt still refuses to give in to their demands. He sees that even the most obedient Lost Boys are forced to punishments and realizes that obedience doesn’t make a difference to oppressors—they will oppress and punish those beneath them without reason.

“Friendship was a pain, Matt thought. All these years he’d wanted friends, and now he discovered they came with strings attached […] Was it wrong to blow twenty men to smithereens? El Patrón wouldn’t have worried one second over it. Tam Lin tried to blow up the English prime minister, but he’d killed twenty children instead. Murder is wrong, Brother Wolf, said a voice in Matt’s mind. He sighed. This was probably what María called having a conscience. It was even more of a pain than friendship.” 

When Matt considers a plot for escape, he realizes that friendship and morality is burdensome. Despite the difficulty in being a good person and having companionship, Matt decides from his experiences that making the right choices is worth it in the end.

“‘Tam Lin says rabbits give up when they’re caught by coyotes,’ Matt said after he’d calmed enough to trust his voice. ‘He says they consent to die because they’re animals and can’t understand hope. But humans are different. They fight against death no matter how bad things seem, and sometimes, even when everything’s against them, they win.’”

Trapped in the boneyard in the middle of the night, Matt shares Tam Lin’s teachings with Chacho. It is evident that Matt is slowly beginning to identify himself as having human characteristics as Tam Lin once did, encouraging Chacho to keep on fighting and hoping as humans must do no matter the situation.

“‘How can anyone celebrate death?’ ‘Because it’s part of us,’ Consuela said softly. ‘Mi abuelita said I mustn’t be afraid of skeletons because I carry my own around inside,’ said Fidelito. ‘She told me to feel my ribs and make friends with them.’”

Matt doesn’t understand why anyone would celebrate the dead when he sees the people of San Luis celebrating the Day of the Dead, especially after his experiences with El Patrón’s desperation for immortality. Consuela and Fidelito explain that death is a part of everyone. Rather than fearing death, one must embrace its reality to live in peace and feel connected to those who have died.

“Tam Lin did what he wanted to do […] He was guilty of a terrible crime when he was young, and he could never forgive himself for it. He believed this last act would make up for everything.” 

Celia shares Tam Lin’s fate on the day of El Patrón’s wake. Despite knowing that he will die, Tam Lin does not try to save himself because of the remorse he feels for his crimes. He believes that he must succumb to the punishment fate has in store for him.