The novel’s most scathing critique is reserved for the educational system. Periquillo’s early schooling is a farce: teachers are cruel or incompetent, the curriculum is outdated, and rote memorization replaces genuine learning. Through this, Fernández de Lizardi echoes the ideas of Rousseau and Locke, arguing that education should be practical, moral, and suited to the individual’s role in society. Similarly, he condemns the gachupines (peninsular Spaniards) for their arrogance and exploitation of the criollos (Mexican-born Spaniards), subtly critiquing the colonial caste system. At the same time, he does not idealize the lower classes; Periquillo’s time among thieves and beggars shows that vice knows no social boundaries. This balanced cynicism is a hallmark of the picaresque.
A notable contradiction lies in the author’s own position. A criollo who supported Mexican independence (the novel was published during the final years of the War of Independence), Fernández de Lizardi was nonetheless wary of radical change. He believed in gradual reform, not revolution. Thus, while the novel criticizes specific abuses, it ultimately endorses a conservative social order: the poor should accept their station and work hard; the rich should be just and charitable. This ambiguity reflects the complex political landscape of early 19th-century Mexico.
At its core, El Periquillo Sarniento follows the picaresque tradition, a genre that originated in 16th-century Spain with works like Lazarillo de Tormes . The novel is narrated in the first person by Pedro Sarmiento, nicknamed "Periquillo Sarniento" (a name suggesting both cheekiness and an irritating, itchy quality). As a dying man, he confesses his life story to his children, hoping to guide them away from his own mistakes.
What elevates El Periquillo Sarniento from mere adventure story to literary landmark is its fierce social and political critique. Fernández de Lizardi was a fervent advocate of the Enlightenment and liberal ideas. He used his novel as a pulpit to attack the lingering feudal structures of colonial New Spain. The book is punctuated with long digressions—sometimes to the detriment of narrative pacing—in which characters deliver lectures on the need for universal education, fair governance, and the abolition of forced labor.
El Periquillo Sarniento is much more than a historical curiosity. It is a lively, funny, and often heartbreaking journey through the underbelly of colonial Mexico. Fernández de Lizardi used the picaresque form to create a mirror in which his society could see its vices clearly. Two centuries later, readers still recognize the itchy parrot’s restless spirit—the desire for easy riches, the temptation to cheat, the pain of injustice, and the hard-won value of integrity. As the first novel of Latin America, it remains a foundational text, reminding us that literature can be both a fierce critic of its time and a timeless portrait of the human condition.