Astral Codex Ten

Andes

11 min read

Andes

Article

Andes is a recurring place in the Astral Codex Ten archive, appearing 2 times across 2 issues between August 08, 2025 and August 22, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “archiac peoples of the Andes gradually husbanded generous, nutritious, mild tubers”; “his agenda for an upcoming expedition to the Andes”; “‘ing expedition to the Andes.’“. It most often appears alongside Napoleon, Peru, Ainu.

Metadata

  • Category: Places
  • Mention count: 2
  • Issue count: 2
  • First seen: August 08, 2025
  • Last seen: August 22, 2025

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

Your Review: My Father’s Instant Mashed Potatoes
August 08, 2025 · Original source
Potatoes were domesticated several millennia ago at the dawn of agriculture in the rugged highlands near Lake Titicaca in modern-day Peru. Their origins lie in a wild family of tiny, bitter, pockmarked solanum roots, so full of glycoalkaloids that when foraged they had to be eaten alongside clay to soak up their toxins. From this paltry stock of nightshades, archaic peoples of the Andes gradually husbanded generous, nutritious, mild tubers that would remain the staple of the region’s foodways through several successive civilizations.
Your Review: Ollantay
August 22, 2025 · Original source
Ollantay is a three-act play written in Quechua, an indigenous language of the South American Andes. It was first performed in Peru around 1775. Since the mid-1800s it’s been performed more often, and nowadays it’s pretty easy to find some company in Peru doing it. If nothing else, it’s popular in Peruvian high schools as a way to get students to connect with Quechua history. It’s not a particularly long play; a full performance of Ollantay takes around an hour.1
Inline links: 1
El Marcado de la Independencia, by Rugendas in 1843. He did some nice paintings of Lima while on tour. Rugendas asked the monks in the convent to make a copy of Ollantay for him. This copy was rather damaged, having sat in a damp convent for eighty years, but the monks obliged and did the best they could. Rugendas brought this copy back to Germany when he returned to Europe in 1846, where it became a curiosity as an example of the Quechua language. He also brought back word that an undamaged copy existed in some priest’s rectory. An Englishman with an interest in Inca history decided that he was going to find this undamaged version and write an English translation, and so in 1853 Sir Clements Markham9 added “find and translate Ollantay” to his agenda for an upcoming expedition to the Andes. He succeeded, finding that other priest who held that other copy and meticulously copying every word of Ollantay in both Quechua and Spanish, then translating that to English. And so we can read, watch, and perform Ollantay, the play that launched a thousand ships. The Story Ollantay is a love story.10 The lovers are the titular Ollantay and Cusi Coyllur Ñusta - he the chief of the Anti people (to be clear, Anti is the Quechua name of the clan; they’re not anti-people) and she the daughter of the Inca emperor. As the play begins, they have already been clandestine lovers for quite some time and the princess is secretly pregnant by Ollantay. But Ollantay, being simply a regional warlord, is not a suitable match for a princess. The play begins with Ollantay pining to his page - who fills the only role of “comic relief”11 - that he must marry Coyllur: Have I not already said That e’en if death’s fell scythe was here, If mountains should oppose my path Like two fierce foes who block the way, Yet will I fight all these combined And risk all else to gain my end, And whether it be life or death I’ll cast myself at Coyllur’s feet. The two run into the high priest, whose introductory soliloquy is a paean to the blood of llamas: O giver of all warmth and light O Sun! I fall and worship thee. For thee the victims are prepared, A thousand llamas and their lambs Are ready for thy festal day. The sacred fire’ll lap their blood, In thy dread presence, mighty one, After long fast thy victims fall. The priest and Ollantay then discuss how Ollantay can definitely not marry the princess and it’s a really bad idea for him to try. Ollantay reiterates his desires, to which the priest can only give one final warning: Put a seed into the ground, It multiplies a hundredfold; The more thy crime shall grow and swell, The greater far thy sudden fall. Ollantay then approaches the emperor and asks for the hand of his daughter with a long soliloquy. The emperor waves him off in four lines: Ollantay, thou dost now presume. Thou art a subject, nothing more. Remember, bold one, who thou art, And learn to keep thy proper place. And so in the next scene, Ollantay swears vengeance: When flames rise to the heavens. Cuzco shall sleep on a bloody couch, The King shall perish in its fall; Then shall my insulter see How numerous are my followers. When thou, proud King, art at my feet, We then shall see if thou wilt say, ‘Thou art too base for Coyllur’s hand.’ He returns home and gathers an army. The emperor then dispatches his own army to go hunt down Ollantay, but Ollantay’s men successfully ambush them in a mountain pass and destroy the Inca army without losing a man: A rain of stones both great and small Down on the crowd of warriors crashed, On every side destruction flashed, Thy heart the slaughter did appall. Like a strong flood the blood did flow, Inundating the ravine; So sad a sight thou ne’er hast seen— No man survived to strike a blow. Ollantay doesn’t press his advantage, though, and is content instead to build up his base of power in his home province. This proves to be a mistake. General Rumi-Ñaui, the general who lost the battle in the mountain pass, comes up with a different, better plan. He begs the emperor for another chance, and the emperor grants it. Rumi-Ñaui shows up to Ollantay, beaten and bloody, and spins a tale of betrayal by the emperor. Ollantay takes the bait and invites him into his capital, then tells him that they will shut the gates and party for three days straight: It will be so. For three whole nights We drink and feast, to praise the Sun, The better to cast all care aside We shall be shut in Tampu fort. Rumi-Ñaui waits for Ollantay’s whole army to be passed-out drunk. Then he opens the gates and invites his army to come in and kill or capture the lot of them. Ollantay is brought back to Cuzco in chains. Things are looking bad for him. I’ll let the play take it from here (Túpac Yupanqui is the emperor, and tocarpus are execution stakes): TÚPAC YUPANQUI: Know that tocarpus are prepared. Remove those traitors from my sight, Let them all perish, and at once. RUMI-ÑAUI: Take these three men without delay To the dreaded execution stakes; Secure them with unyielding ropes, And hurl them from the lofty rocks. TÚPAC YUPANQUI: Stop! Cast off their bonds. (The guards unbind them. They all kneel.) (To Ollantay, kneeling). Rise from thy knees; come to my side. (Rises.) Now thou hast seen death very near, You that have shown ingratitude, Learn how mercy flows from my heart; I will raise thee higher than before. Thou wert Chief of Anti-suyu, Now see how far my love will go; I make thee Chief in permanence. Receive this plume as general, This arrow emblem of command. That’s right! Ollantay swore eternal vengeance on the emperor, seceded, set himself up as a king, destroyed an entire Inca army, and is rewarded for his betrayal by being made viceroy. Rumi-Ñaui has no problem with this, saying: Prince Ollantay! Incap Ranti! Thy promotion gives me joy. As the play concludes, Ollantay mentions that he would still very much like to marry Coyllur.12 The emperor of course thinks this is a marvelous idea, and so the two are reunited for the first time in ten years and, oddly enough, the first time in the play. Ollantay is the kind of love story where the lovers only actually speak to each other once, at the very end. And so the play concludes with these words from the emperor: Thy wife is now in thy arms; All sorrow now should disappear, Joy, new born, shall take its place. Which is the Inca version of “and they all lived happily ever after”. Ollantay is not a particularly good play. There’s a reason it has only entered the repertoire of Peruvian high school drama. The whole premise that Ollantay is trying to get back to his lover is dropped in Act II and only resurfaces at the very end of the play, almost as an afterthought. None of the characters evolve; Ollantay is the exact same person at the end of the play that he was at the start. And the resolution is comically abrupt. All the foreshadowing, and there is foreshadowing, implies that both Ollantay and Coyllur will end up dead, but instead they end up married and with a ten-year-old daughter. Turns out the priest was wrong! The seed put in the ground that multiplies a hundred fold won’t precipitate a sudden fall after all! Thematically, Ollantay is not thematic. Ollantay acts virtuously and is rewarded for it. Rumi-Ñaui acts wickedly and is rewarded for it. Coyllur acts…well she doesn’t really act, she just bemoans her fate in Act I and then spends the rest of the play literally hidden behind a stone wall. And it’s not like Ollantay tells us anything about Incan society that would make it valuable from an anthropological perspective. Valdez may have been adapting a traditional Quechua play, but his own Spanish and Catholic background definitely seeped in. As we’ll see, there’s an ongoing debate as to how much of the play is Quechua and how much is Valdez.13 The Same Story But even if Ollantay is not that valuable from an artistic perspective or an anthropological perspective, it is valuable from a historic perspective. You may have noticed some similarities between the plot of Ollantay and the story of Túpac Amaru II. By which I mean that it’s beat-for-beat the same story. A powerful local chief despairs of his inability to <marry a princess / lighten the free labor burden>. After consulting with a local priest, he launches an armed rebellion against the imperial authorities in Cuzco from his home base in the mountains, and quickly raises a large army. He easily defeats the initial army sent to capture him, but instead of marching on Cuzco he focuses on building up his own local power base. This proves to be an error, and he loses control of his own army, leading to military defeat and his own capture. He is taken to Cuzco in chains and <forgiven and made viceroy / brutally tortured and executed>. Pretty much all of the questions surrounding the Túpac Amaru rebellion vanish if you assume that Túpac was not fighting a rebellion but following a script. Why did Túpac not immediately attack Cuzco? Because Ollantay didn’t. Why was he seemingly okay with his army losing its discipline? Because Ollantay was. Why did he put his army in a position to lose? Why was he okay with being taken alive, knowing how the Spanish dealt with rebels? Because Túpac was following the path set by Ollantay: First, declare yourself in rebellion.
Inline links: 9, 10, 11, 12, 13