Introduction

Teaching English has increasingly moved beyond the idea that learning occurs primarily through the transmission of knowledge from teacher to student. This shift becomes particularly significant in online environments, where learners cannot simply depend on the physical presence of an instructor to guide every stage of the learning process. In my own experience as an English language teacher working with young adults and working professionals, fully online learning has forced me to reconsider what it means to teach, monitor, support, and evaluate learning. Rather than attempting to control every interaction, I have gradually come to see learning as something that can be constructed collectively.

The British Council's TeachingEnglish: How to Adapt Resources course provided an opportunity to examine this idea through peer learning, collaborative tasks, and learner-led contributions. The course emphasizes that learners can become valuable resources for one another and that collaboration involves considerably more than simply putting students into pairs or groups. It requires intentional design, clear outcomes, appropriate support, and opportunities for learners to contribute meaningfully to the learning process (British Council, n.d.).

These ideas resonated strongly with my own teaching philosophy. As I reflected on the course, I wrote that "Students have reciprocal roles since the teacher is not exercising authority over students. Language knowledge is co-constructed within a positive atmosphere. Students learn by teaching one another because they are self-directed" (Acuña Solano, 2026). This statement captures an important transformation in my understanding of the teacher's role: the teacher does not disappear, but authority becomes less centralized. In a collaborative learning environment, the teacher becomes a designer, facilitator, observer, and provider of strategic intervention.

Peer Learning as the Co-Construction of Knowledge

Peer learning is particularly valuable because it changes the relationship between learners. Instead of viewing classmates primarily as people who happen to be completing the same course, students begin to perceive one another as learning resources. This reciprocal relationship can create opportunities for explanation, negotiation of meaning, feedback, and experimentation with language.

In my own reflection on the British Council course, I described peer learning as a process in which "students have reciprocal roles" and "language knowledge is co-constructed within a positive atmosphere" (Acuña Solano, 2026). The notion of co-construction is especially relevant to language learning because language cannot be acquired exclusively through the passive reception of explanations. Learners need opportunities to use language, receive responses, clarify meaning, reformulate ideas, and notice how other people communicate.

This perspective has strong connections with Vygotsky's (1978) concept of the Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD). Learning can occur through interaction with others who provide forms of assistance that allow an individual to perform beyond what they could accomplish independently. I expressed this idea in my course reflection by observing that learners working together "learn from one another, helping each other move from their zone of current development" (Acuña Solano, 2026).

For adult learners, this process can be particularly meaningful. Young adults and working professionals bring experiences, professional knowledge, opinions, and perspectives to the classroom. Their linguistic resources may differ, but their life experiences can become valuable contributions to the learning process. Consequently, peer learning does not have to mean that the teacher is transferring instructional responsibility to students. Rather, it means recognizing that expertise is distributed throughout the learning community.

The Teacher's Role: From Authority to Facilitator

One of the most important implications of peer learning is the changing role of the teacher. If language learners are expected to collaborate, make decisions, and contribute to learning, the instructor must relinquish some degree of direct control. However, this does not mean becoming passive or absent. This distinction has become important in my own two online teaching contexts. I do not teach children in primary or middle school; my learners are young adults and working adults who study English fully online. Consequently, strategies designed for younger learners sometimes need to be reconsidered before being transferred to my context. Adult learners generally bring a greater degree of autonomy and personal experience, but they also have professional responsibilities, limited time, and different levels of confidence with technology and language.

The British Council course emphasizes that collaborative work requires careful management. Confident learners may dominate conversations, learners may use their home language, errors may be reinforced by peers, and the teacher may find it difficult to monitor every group (British Council, n.d.). These challenges are not eliminated simply because the learners are adults or because the classroom is online. In fact, the online environment introduces additional considerations. Breakout rooms can create a productive space for communication, but they can also make monitoring more difficult. A teacher cannot simultaneously listen to every group. Therefore, task design becomes essential. Clear instructions, time limits, models, assigned roles, and functional language can provide a structure within which learners can operate more independently.

This is consistent with the broader concept of scaffolding. Wood, Bruner, and Ross (1976) argued that effective instructional support allows learners to accomplish tasks that would otherwise be beyond their current capabilities. In an online classroom, scaffolding may take the form of models, sentence starters, examples, visual prompts, functional language, or carefully sequenced instructions. Thus, effective facilitation does not mean abandoning learners. It means creating the conditions under which learners can become progressively more independent.

Collaboration Requires More Than Grouping Students

Another important insight from the British Council course is that collaborative learning should not be confused with simply assigning students to groups. A collaborative task gives learners a shared purpose and a genuine reason to communicate. As the British Council explains, learners must "speak, listen and develop ideas together" in order to achieve a shared goal (British Council, n.d.).

This principle has influenced the way I structure activities in my own online classes. Among my reflections, I have often described a process that begins with choice and continues through modeling, time management, monitoring, and feedback:

"First of all, I show them the various sketchpads or simulations the activity contains, for them to choose the ones they want to complete (differentiation). Secondly, I model the activity. Then, I tell them how much time they have. After that, I send them away to work in pairs or small groups. Next, I visit them in their breakout rooms to monitor the activity. Finally, when the activity is over, feedback is provided to them" (Acuña Solano, 2026).

This sequence reflects an important principle of instructional design: learner autonomy works best when it exists within a carefully constructed framework. Choice without structure can become confusion. Collaboration without a clear outcome can become unfocused conversation. Autonomy therefore does not mean "anything goes." Instead, the teacher establishes the boundaries within which meaningful learner choice can occur.

This is also where differentiation becomes particularly relevant. Allowing students to choose between different sketchpads or simulations gives them some ownership of the learning experience while maintaining a common instructional objective. Such choices can accommodate differences in interests, confidence, background knowledge, or preferred ways of approaching a task.

Learner-Led Contributions and Learner Agency

Perhaps the most interesting concept in the module was that of learner-led contributions. According to the British Council (n.d.), learners can make choices, create lesson content, or take responsibility for part of a lesson. These activities can develop true communication scenarios, creativity, critical thinking, confidence, and independence. For me, this concept connects directly with learner agency. When students generate examples, formulate questions, research information, or create content for their classmates, they cease to be merely consumers of instructional materials. They become contributors to the learning environment.

I have reflected on this dimension by writing and have concluded that learner-led contributions allow me, as an instructor, "to see how students get to use the language in context (grammar and lexis)" (Acuña Solano, 2026). This is a particularly important observation. A student may demonstrate knowledge of a grammatical rule in a controlled exercise but struggle to use that same structure spontaneously during communication. Learner-led activities reveal the difference between knowing about language and being able to use language.

My reference to Luria is quite relevant here. The Russian psychologist Alexander Luria emphasized the importance of observing psychological processes through activity and intervention. In my own reflection, I have often described learner-led contributions as an opportunity to determine whether some kind of "intervention" is needed when students actually use language (Acuña Solano, 2026). This idea changes assessment fundamentally. Instead of seeing assessment as something that occurs only after learning, observation during authentic communication becomes part of the learning process itself.

Learner Contributions as a "Thermometer" of Learning

One of the metaphors I used in my reflection was that learner-led activity becomes a "great 'thermometer'" for measuring how much students can actually use the target language (Acuña Solano, 2026). I find this metaphor particularly useful because it emphasizes that classroom interaction provides information about learning that conventional exercises may not reveal.

When learners participate in collaborative activities, they demonstrate several dimensions of competence simultaneously. They must retrieve vocabulary, construct grammatical structures, interpret what others say, negotiate meaning, respond appropriately, and sometimes repair communication breakdowns. For the teacher, these moments provide rich evidence. This aligns with Black and Wiliam's (1998) influential work on formative assessment. Assessment becomes particularly powerful when evidence of learning is used to inform subsequent instruction. In this sense, monitoring breakout rooms is not merely classroom management. It is also formative assessment.

Through the lens of formative assessment, the teacher listens for patterns. Perhaps students consistently misuse a grammatical structure. Perhaps they understand the vocabulary but cannot retrieve it quickly. Perhaps they communicate successfully despite grammatical inaccuracies. Perhaps they depend excessively on their first language. Each observation provides evidence that can inform the next pedagogical decision. The same process can benefit learners. When students hear their peers successfully use language, they gain models. When they struggle to communicate an idea, they become aware of a gap in their own linguistic resources. When peers understand their message, they receive evidence that communication has succeeded. Learner-led activities therefore function simultaneously as practice, communication, and informal assessment.

The Productive Role of the First Language

One issue raised in the British Council course that deserves particular consideration in adult online ELT is the use of learners' home language. Traditional communicative approaches have sometimes treated the first language as an obstacle to being minimized. However, multilingual pedagogies increasingly recognize that learners' complete linguistic repertoires can be resources for learning. The British Council course suggests that the home language can sometimes support learners and recommends encouraging English through sentence starters and manageable goals (British Council, n.d.). I find this position more realistic than imposing an absolute prohibition on the first language.

 For adult learners, especially those participating in complex collaborative tasks, strategic use of the first language can sometimes facilitate comprehension, planning, or clarification. The pedagogical objective should not necessarily be eliminating the home language but ensuring that it does not replace the communicative purpose of the target language. In an online environment, this balance can be established through clear expectations. Students can be given specific English-language goals, useful functional expressions, and a communicative outcome that requires them to use English meaningfully.

From Resource Adaptation to Learner as Resource

The title of the module, Using the learner as a resource, ultimately suggests a broader philosophy of teaching. Teachers traditionally spend considerable time preparing resources for learners. However, learners themselves can become resources through their experiences, questions, interpretations, ideas, and linguistic production. This principle has particular relevance to adult education. A working professional does not enter an English class as an empty container waiting to be filled with vocabulary and grammar. That learner already possesses knowledge about a profession, a community, a family, a culture, technology, travel, business, or countless other aspects of life. The challenge is to create pedagogical spaces in which that knowledge can enter the language-learning process.

This idea of knowledge entering the language-learning process also corresponds with Knowles's (1984) principles of andragogy, particularly the idea that adult learners bring previous experiences to educational contexts and benefit when learning is connected to relevant, meaningful problems. Collaborative and learner-led tasks can make this connection possible. The teacher therefore becomes less of the sole source of content and more of an architect of learning experiences. My responsibility is not simply to prepare everything for students but to create the conditions in which they can contribute something meaningful themselves.

Conclusion: From Teaching Language to Designing Conditions for Learning

The British Council course on adapting resources reinforced an idea that has become increasingly important in my teaching: effective online language education is not simply about providing more materials. It is about designing better opportunities for learners to use, negotiate, create, and reflect upon language. Peer learning demonstrates that students can become teachers for one another. Collaborative tasks show that communication becomes more meaningful when learners have a shared purpose. Learner-led contributions demonstrate that students can become creators of content rather than merely recipients of it. Finally, teacher observation transforms these activities into opportunities for formative assessment and pedagogical intervention.

For my own practice with young adults and working professionals, the central lesson is not that I should surrender my role as teacher. Rather, I should reconsider what that role involves. My authority can coexist with learner autonomy; structure can coexist with choice; assessment can coexist with communication; and technology can create spaces in which learners become more visible as participants in their own learning.

Perhaps the most important transformation is therefore a conceptual one. The question is no longer simply, "What am I going to teach my students?" It becomes, "What conditions can I design so that my students can learn from one another, contribute to the learning community, and demonstrate what they are capable of doing?"

As I wrote during the course, learner-led contributions provide a "thermometer" of learning. They reveal not only what students know, but what they can actually do with the language. For an online teacher, that evidence is invaluable. It now allows me to move beyond teaching language as a collection of forms and toward creating environments in which language becomes a tool for interaction, meaning-making, and human connection. In this sense, adapting resources is ultimately more than adapting materials. It is adapting the relationship between teacher, learner, content, and learning itself. 

San José, Costa Rica

Friday, August 14, 2026

Blog Post #581

 

📚 References

Acuña Solano, J. (2026). Personal reflections from TeachingEnglish: How to adapt resources [Unpublished course notes].

Black, P., & Wiliam, D. (1998). Assessment and classroom learning. Assessment in Education: Principles, Policy & Practice, 5(1), 7–74. https://doi.org/10.1080/0969595980050102

British Council. (n.d.). TeachingEnglish: How to adapt resources. TeachingEnglish. https://open.teachingenglish.org.uk/

Knowles, M. S. (1984). Andragogy in action: Applying modern principles of adult learning. Jossey-Bass.

Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in society: The development of higher psychological processes. Harvard University Press.

Wood, D., Bruner, J. S., & Ross, G. (1976). The role of tutoring in problem solving. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 17(2), 89–100. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1469-7610.1976.tb00381.x

 

Introduction

Pedro Antonio de Alarcón occupies a distinctive place in nineteenth-century Spanish literature for his ability to merge the realism of everyday life with the dramatic tension of Romantic fiction. His short story La Buenaventura (‘the good luck’) exemplifies this synthesis by presenting what initially appears to be a simple encounter between a wandering Gitano (‘gypsy’) and a notorious bandit. Beneath this adventurous framework, however, Alarcón constructs a subtle meditation on the nature of fear, identity, and the extraordinary influence that words can exercise over human behavior. Rather than relying on supernatural intervention, the narrative demonstrates how belief itself can alter reality, transforming a fortune into a psychological force that reshapes the lives of both the speaker and the listener.

The story unfolds in nineteenth-century Andalusia, a setting where folklore, honor, and social prejudice coexist with political instability. Within this environment, Alarcón introduces two strikingly different characters. Heredia, a Gitano whose livelihood depends upon reading fortunes and understanding human behavior, represents intelligence, adaptability, and psychological insight. Parrón, a feared outlaw whose reputation rests upon violence and intimidation, embodies physical dominance and the illusion of control. Their encounter becomes much more than a confrontation between two individuals; it evolves into an exploration of how language can challenge brute force and how fear can dismantle even the strongest façade of invincibility.

This essay argues that La Buenaventura demonstrates that destiny is not presented as an immutable supernatural decree but rather as a psychological construction sustained by belief. Through Heredia's resourcefulness and Parrón's gradual psychological deterioration, Alarcón reveals that words often possess greater power than weapons and that human beings frequently become prisoners of the narratives they choose, or are compelled, to believe. Drawing upon literary criticism, psychology, and philosophy, this analysis explores how both protagonists embody contrasting responses to uncertainty while illustrating the enduring relationship between narrative, identity, and moral agency.

Heredia: Intelligence as a Strategy for Survival

At first glance, Heredia seems like an unlikely protagonist. He belongs to a marginalized community that nineteenth-century Spanish society frequently portrayed through stereotypes and suspicion. Yet Alarcón refuses to reduce him to a caricature. Instead, Heredia emerges as perhaps the most intellectually agile character in the story, demonstrating that genuine power does not always arise from physical strength or social prestige but from the ability to understand people.

Unlike Parrón, whose authority depends upon fear, Heredia's influence depends upon perception. He survives because he carefully observes those around him and quickly adapts to changing circumstances. When unexpectedly confronted by the infamous bandit, he immediately recognizes that resistance would be futile. Rather than attempting physical escape, he relies upon the only instrument still available to him: language.

One of the most revealing moments occurs when Parrón demands that Heredia tell his fortune. The request itself is deeply ironic. A man renowned for rejecting authority suddenly seeks certainty from someone whose profession rests upon interpreting uncertainty. Heredia understands that refusing would almost certainly mean death, while offering a comforting prediction would merely postpone the danger. Consequently, he chooses an alternative that appears reckless but proves psychologically brilliant: he predicts Parrón's eventual capture and execution.

Alarcón carefully emphasizes the tension surrounding this moment. Heredia understands that the prediction places his own life at risk because Parrón immediately warns him that he will be killed should the prophecy prove false. The fortune-teller thus becomes trapped by his own words. Nevertheless, he accepts the risk because he recognizes something fundamental about human psychology: once an idea takes root in the mind, it often develops a life of its own.

From this point onward, Heredia's greatest weapon is no longer the prediction itself but its lingering psychological effect. As literary critic Wayne C. Booth (1983) observes, narratives frequently derive their persuasive power not merely from events but from the relationships established between storyteller and audience. Heredia instinctively assumes the role of narrator, while Parrón becomes an unwilling audience whose imagination begins completing the story that has just been told. The spoken prophecy continues working long after the conversation has ended.

Heredia therefore exemplifies what Carl Gustav Jung (1964) described as the Trickster archetype. Throughout mythology and literature, the Trickster rarely overcomes opponents through physical superiority. Instead, survival depends upon flexibility, improvisation, and psychological insight. Figures such as Odysseus in Greek epic or Reynard the Fox in medieval European literature similarly reveal that intelligence frequently compensates for social or physical disadvantage. Heredia belongs to this long literary tradition. His apparent vulnerability conceals an extraordinary capacity to interpret human behavior and respond creatively to danger.

Importantly, Alarcón never portrays Heredia as a conventional moral hero. Fortune-telling occupies an ethically ambiguous position, inviting readers to question whether his predictions stem from genuine intuition, calculated manipulation, or a combination of both. Yet this ambiguity ultimately strengthens the character rather than diminishing him. Jerome Bruner (1991) argues that human beings naturally organize experience through narratives that provide coherence to otherwise uncertain lives. Heredia's profession depends precisely upon this tendency. Whether he genuinely foresees the future is less significant than his remarkable ability to construct a narrative compelling enough to shape another person's perception of reality.

Consequently, Heredia's success rests not upon deception alone but upon profound psychological understanding. Modern cognitive psychology consistently demonstrates that expectations influence perception, attention, and decision-making. Individuals rarely respond exclusively to objective reality; instead, they react to the meanings they assign to events. Heredia intuitively understands this principle centuries before psychology would describe it systematically. By introducing a powerful narrative into Parrón's consciousness, he transforms the bandit's greatest strength, his unwavering confidence, into a source of persistent anxiety.

Another noteworthy aspect of Heredia's character is his emotional regulation. Faced with almost certain death, he refuses to surrender to panic. Instead, fear becomes a catalyst for creative thinking. Viktor Frankl (2006), reflecting on extreme human adversity, argued that individuals retain the freedom to choose their attitudes even under oppressive circumstances. Although Heredia's situation differs significantly from the contexts Frankl examined, a similar psychological principle emerges. External circumstances severely limit Heredia's options, yet they do not eliminate his capacity for thoughtful response. His resilience lies not in denying danger but in refusing to allow danger to dictate his thinking.

This emotional discipline distinguishes Heredia from many traditional literary heroes. He possesses neither extraordinary physical courage nor supernatural protection. His courage manifests intellectually. Each decision reflects careful observation, rapid adaptation, and remarkable self-control. In doing so, Alarcón challenges conventional assumptions regarding heroism. True bravery does not necessarily consist of confronting violence with greater violence; it may instead consist of preserving one's humanity and intelligence when violence appears inevitable.

Heredia also invites reflection upon the social dimensions of identity. As a Gitano, he occupies a marginal position within the society portrayed in Alarcón’s short story. Nevertheless, the author resists reducing him to the prejudices associated with his ethnicity. Instead, Heredia repeatedly demonstrates qualities, prudence, creativity, rhetorical skill, and emotional intelligence, that surpass those of many socially respected figures. Mikhail Bakhtin (1981) observed that literature often destabilizes official hierarchies by allowing marginalized voices to challenge dominant structures. Heredia embodies this inversion. Although society grants him little formal authority, his mastery of language ultimately proves more influential than the weapons or reputations upon which others depend.

By the close of the first half of the narrative, Heredia has already transformed the apparent balance of power. Physically, he remains the weaker man. Psychologically, however, the relationship has shifted dramatically. Parrón still commands violence, but Heredia now occupies the far more significant position: he has entered the bandit's imagination. Once fear begins to reside within Parrón's mind, the fortune-teller no longer needs to overpower his adversary physically. The prophecy itself continues performing that work on his behalf.

This reversal establishes one of Alarcón's central insights: language can become a form of action. Words do not merely describe reality; under particular circumstances, they participate in creating it. Heredia's fortune illustrates that stories possess transformative power because they influence how individuals interpret themselves, others, and the future. Long before modern psychology articulated concepts such as expectancy effects or self-fulfilling prophecies, Alarcón recognized that belief often shapes behavior as profoundly as objective events. In La Buenaventura, Heredia's greatest triumph lies not in foretelling destiny but in revealing how deeply human beings live according to the narratives they embrace.

Chart 1. Character Comparison: Heredia vs. Parrón   Aspect Heredia Parrón Social Position Marginalized Gitano (fortune-teller) Famous outlaw feared throughout Andalusia Primary Source of Power Intelligence and psychological insight Violence and physical intimidation Weapon Language Weapons and reputation Leadership Style Persuasion and adaptation Fear and domination Relationship with Others Reads people carefully Controls people through terror View of Uncertainty Accepts and exploits it Tries to eliminate it Psychological Trait Emotional self-control Growing anxiety and obsession Symbolizes Wisdom, adaptability, resilience Pride, control, fear Character Arc Remains mentally composed under pressure Gradually loses psychological stability Ultimate Lesson Intelligence surpasses brute force Fear destroys even the strongest individual Created by Prof. Jonathan Acuña Solano

Parrón: The Fragility of Power and the Psychology of Fear

If Heredia represents adaptability and psychological resilience, Parrón embodies the opposite tendency: the illusion that power can eliminate uncertainty. Introduced as a legendary outlaw whose very name inspires fear, Parrón initially appears invincible. His authority rests upon violence, reputation, and the certainty that no one dares oppose him. Yet Alarcón gradually dismantles this image by revealing that physical dominance offers little protection against psychological vulnerability. The most formidable enemy Parrón encounters is neither the Civil Guard nor a rival criminal, but an idea.

What makes Parrón such an intriguing literary character is the contradiction between his public identity and his inner emotional life. His reputation depends upon projecting absolute confidence, yet the prophecy uttered by Heredia introduces a possibility he cannot entirely dismiss. The prediction that he will die on the gallows is brief, but its consequences are profound. Once heard, it cannot be unheard. Parrón continues to possess weapons, followers, and physical freedom, yet he no longer possesses certainty. His imagination becomes the prison from which he cannot escape.

This psychological transformation reflects what Daniel Kahneman (2011) describes as the human tendency to overestimate threats once they become cognitively available. An idea, even one lacking objective proof, gains persuasive power simply because it occupies the mind repeatedly. Every decision Parrón makes after hearing the prophecy is interpreted through its shadow. Ordinary events begin to appear as possible signs of the prophecy’s fulfillment. His greatest strength, his confidence, is gradually replaced by vigilance, suspicion, and anxiety.

Chart 2. Psychological Transformation of Parrón

Stage	Emotional State	Dominant Thought
Before meeting Heredia	Confidence	"No one can defeat me."
Fortune is told	Doubt	"What if he is right?"
After the encounter	Anxiety	"Every event could fulfill the prophecy."
During pursuit	Obsession	"I must escape my fate."
Final moments	Resignation	"The prediction has come true."
Created by Prof. Jonathan Acuña Solano

Alarcón masterfully avoids sensationalizing this transformation. Rather than depicting Parrón as suddenly superstitious, he portrays a far more believable psychological process. The outlaw struggles against the prediction precisely because he wishes to remain rational and self-governing. Yet human beings rarely respond to uncertainty through pure logic. As contemporary psychology suggests, emotional responses frequently precede conscious reasoning, influencing interpretation long before deliberate reflection occurs. Parrón does not surrender to fate because he lacks courage; he does so because fear quietly reshapes the way he perceives reality.

The irony is unmistakable. Throughout his criminal career, Parrón has controlled others by making them fear him. After meeting Heredia, however, he experiences the same psychological mechanism from the opposite perspective. Violence had always guaranteed obedience because frightened people behave predictably. Now Parrón himself becomes predictable, driven by an invisible fear that steadily narrows his freedom. His situation recalls Frankl's (2006) observation that suffering often derives less from external circumstances than from the meaning individuals assign to them. The prophecy possesses no physical force. It acquires power because Parrón continually interprets his experiences through it. In this sense, Heredia never truly battles the outlaw. Parrón wages war against his own imagination.

Destiny, Narrative, and the Illusion of Control

The psychological struggle between Heredia and Parrón naturally develops into a philosophical inquiry concerning destiny and free will. At first reading, La Buenaventura appears to affirm the existence of supernatural fate. Fortune-telling occupies the center of the plot, and the prediction ultimately proves accurate. Yet a closer examination suggests that Alarcón's interests lie elsewhere. The narrative repeatedly emphasizes not miraculous intervention but human response.

One of the enduring philosophical questions raised by literature concerns whether destiny exists independently of human action or whether individuals unknowingly participate in creating the futures they fear. Alarcón deliberately refuses to provide a definitive answer, thereby inviting readers to occupy the uncertain space between coincidence and causality. The ambiguity itself becomes one of the story's greatest artistic achievements.

Paul Ricoeur's (1992) theory of narrative identity offers an illuminating perspective on this issue. Ricoeur argues that individuals understand themselves by constructing stories that organize past experiences, present actions, and future expectations into meaningful wholes. Identity is therefore never static but continuously interpreted through narrative. Parrón's tragedy emerges because Heredia provides him with a new story about himself, one in which the feared outlaw is destined to become an executed criminal. Whether objectively true or not, this narrative gradually becomes inseparable from Parrón's sense of self.

Heredia’s prophecy thus functions less as supernatural revelation than as narrative intervention. Heredia does not merely predict an event; he reshapes the framework through which Parrón interprets every subsequent experience. The outlaw increasingly inhabits the story told about him, illustrating Ricoeur's contention that human beings simultaneously create narratives and are created by them.

Jerome Bruner (1991) similarly argues that narratives, such as La Buenaventura, do more than recount events; they organize reality by assigning significance to experience. From this perspective, La Buenaventura demonstrates that storytelling possesses genuine social and psychological power. Heredia survives because he understands that language can alter perception, while Parrón falls because he underestimates the transformative influence of narrative.

The story also resonates with existential philosophy. Jean-Paul Sartre (1946) famously argued that human beings are "condemned to be free," meaning that individuals continually define themselves through choices rather than predetermined essences. Although Alarcón predates existentialism by several decades, his narrative anticipates similar concerns. Parrón repeatedly believes that external circumstances determine his destiny, yet many of the decisions leading toward that destiny remain his own. Fear influences choice, but it does not abolish responsibility.

At the same time, Alarcón avoids portraying freedom as unlimited. Human beings act within social, historical, and psychological constraints. Heredia's marginal social position limits his opportunities, while Parrón's violent reputation restricts his capacity to reinvent himself. Their encounter illustrates that freedom always exists alongside circumstance. What distinguishes the two characters is not the presence or absence of constraints but their differing responses to them. Heredia embraces uncertainty as an inevitable aspect of existence. Parrón desperately seeks to eliminate it. Ironically, this difference explains why the socially marginalized fortune-teller achieves greater psychological freedom than the feared outlaw. Adaptability proves more liberating than domination.

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Análise Comparativa Das Personagens Em La Buenaventura by Jonathan Acuña

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