In the novel, rain represents the freedom, abundance, and harmony that Pedro Páramo gradually destroys as he turns the town’s land from a means of sustaining life into a source of profit and power. Pedro’s first memory, the earliest moment in the novel chronologically, begins with a long description of “water dripping from the roof tiles” after a rainstorm. Rulfo uses the contrast between the barren Comala of Juan Preciado’s present and the abundant rain of Pedro Páramo’s past in order to mark the jump between their two timelines.
For Comala itself, rain turns from a source of nourishment into an ominous and foreboding force, until it suddenly stops forever, giving way to the harsh winds and eternal drought that make Comala a barren wasteland. In Pedro Páramo and Dolores Preciado’s memories, everything grows in Comala because of the constant rain and the fertile soil. But as Pedro takes control of the town, the rain (like the land it nourishes) becomes a source of oppression, not abundance: on one rainy day, all the townspeople are busy irrigating Pedro’s fields, so nobody buys anything at the market. Now, the rain impoverishes the vendors and oppresses the workers—like Comala itself, it’s doing Pedro Páramo’s bidding.
Just as rain symbolizes how Pedro corrupted and controlled Comala, it also represents how he robbed his wife Susana of her freedom. But the rain has additional symbolic significance when connected to Susana, as it symbolizes the richness of her emotional life. In his memories, Pedro daydreams about Susana while it rains, and after they marry, it rains in every scene focused on Susana. Just as rain makes soil fertile rather than dry and barren, the rain represents the richness of Susana’s emotional life in contrast to Pedro Páramo’s bleak, barren, power-focused worldview, which deprives love and beauty of their true value. In one memorable scene, Susana remembers the happiest moment of her life: swimming in the ocean, which represents the freedom she had before being with Pedro, but also fact that he can never take away her freedom of thought and her inner emotional world.
Rain and Water Quotes in Pedro Páramo
Water dripping from the roof tiles was forming a hole in the sand of the patio. Plink! plink! and then another plink! as drops struck a bobbing, dancing laurel leaf caught in a crack between the adobe bricks. The storm had passed. Now an intermittent breeze shook the branches of the pomegranate tree, loosing showers of heavy rain, spattering the ground with gleaming drops that dulled as they sank into the earth. The hens, still huddled on their roost, suddenly flapped their wings and strutted out to the patio, heads bobbing, pecking worms unearthed by the rain. As the clouds retreated the sun flashed on the rocks, spread an iridescent sheen, sucked water from the soil, shone on sparkling leaves stirred by the breeze.
“We live in a land in which everything grows, thanks to God’s providence; but everything that grows is bitter. That is our curse.”
“You’re right, Father. 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.”
“I went back. I would always go back. The sea bathes my ankles and retreats, it bathes my knees, my thighs; it puts its gentle arm around my waist, circles my breasts, embraces my throat, presses my shoulders. Then I sink into it, my whole body, I give myself to is pulsing strength, to is gentle possession, holding nothing back.
“‘I love to swim in the sea,’ I told him.
“But he didn’t understand.
“And the next morning I was again in the sea, purifying myself. Giving myself to the waves.”