Character Analysis
Confession time: We often want to be as smart and confident as Miri Gu, but some days we can only manage being Juan Orozco.
Not that being Juan is all that bad: he's at least up-to-date with all the new technology, so he can make virtual compositions that Robert has trouble following (6.8). Similarly, not only does he play games like Cretaceous Returns, but he tries to make his own contribution (4.34). So whereas Robert is totally clueless about technology and the Radner brothers are mostly into messing things up (like playing pranks on another team in shop class (8.37), Juan is interested in really taking part in the world economy.
In other words, he's ordinary… in a good way.
Juan is no Alfred Vaz—he's not a genius manipulator. But when Big Lizard (really Louise Chumlig) gives him the job of being nicey-nicey with the old folks, he doesn't just come out and say, "My job is to be nice to you." He actually tries to manipulate them; for instance, he tries to butter up Xiu Xiang by saying that she's "world-class" (5.4) and then trying to help her with her view-page in shop class (5.6).
Only then does he segue into asking if she keeps up with her old friends (5.8). He gets a little better at keeping secrets (like never telling Robert about Lena), but he's just an average manipulator. That's Juan—average.
But a few things set him apart:
Poetry Fanatic
When Robert Gu performs his first poem in Chumlig's class, no one really seems to respond except Juan. (Well, Winston Blount responds by sending a virtual bird to poo on Gu's head.) Juan is blown away:
He sat for a few seconds, dazed. Words. That's all they were. But what they did was more than visuals. It was more than haptics. (6.29)
Haptics—the virtual reality that lets you feel stuff—is about the highest praise Juan knows. Next to Robert, Juan may be the biggest lover of poetry in this book.
Low, Low Ego
Juan has a self-esteem problem. In his first appearance, he calls himself a "chump" (4.53); he doesn't want to perform in public because he wants to avoid public humiliation—and because he "already knew he was a loser" (8.35); he's worried his best won't be good enough (4.62); and refers to himself as a dwit (4.70). Nobody wants to be a dwit.
If At First You Don't Succeed…
He's also a good friend: he's willing to put himself out there and try, and he's willing to learn When Juan and Robert collaborate on a final project, the poetry is written by Juan. That poetry does get praised by Winston Blount at the end (34.9), but it's almost more impressive because we see Juan getting better and better.
When Robert and Juan begin to collaborate, we hear little bits about how Juan is becoming better, even if those notes get filtered through Robert's jerkitude:
Juan Orozco's compositions had blossomed. He could write complete sentences intentionally. (16.3)
Even though Juan is afraid of public embarrassment, he's the one who goes out and introduces the final project (33.90). And that's not the only time Juan is willing to do something he doesn't want to do.
Friendship Is Magic
He's a good friend. When Miri bosses him around, he might snap back a bit, but he still does what needs to be done. When Miri tells Juan to go talk to Robert, Juan responds, "You're not the boss of me. I was going to talk to Robert now anyway" (19.10). Now, if you wanted to, you could make the argument that Juan is just being a pushover here—but he does talk back to her. If he really thought he was such a dwit, would he do that?
When Miri leads Juan to track Robert and the Elder Cabal during the library riot, Juan goes with her even though he's a little weirded out by the whole thing (22.23). This scene also gives us one of our most heroic actions of all: when Alfred goes to attack Miri, Juan tries to stop him.
From Miri's POV, this is what she sees: "Orozco was such a runt. He couldn't stop someone like that. But he tried" (22.63). Now, we don't want to get all mushy here, but let's point out that Miri isn't bossing Juan around here. He throws himself into the path of danger because he wants to.
You know, we take back what we said at the beginning: On our good days, we're like Juan.