Showing posts with label Cuban writers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cuban writers. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Carilda Oliver Labra (1922 - 2018)




Carilda Oliver Labra
(1922 - 2018)



Carilda Oliver Labra (born July 6, 1924) is a Cuban poet who was born in Matanzas. 


Labra studied law at the University of Havana. She is also known to excel at drawing, painting and sculpting. 

Known as one of the most influential Cuban poets, her work has focused on love, the role of women in society, and herself. Oliver Labra has received numerous national and international prizes including the National Poetry Prize (1950), National Literature Award (1997) and the José de Vasconcelos International Prize (2002). Me desordeno, amor, me desordeno might be her most famous poem. Other works such as Discurso de Eva ("Eve's Discourse") also show a profound literary technique. 

Her debut collection in 1943, Lyric Prelude (Preludio lirico) immediately established her as an important poetic voice. At the South of My Throat made her famous: the coveted National Prize for poetry came to her in 1950 as a result of the popular and notorious book, At the South of My Throat (Al sur de mi garganta) 1949. In honor of the tri-centennial of Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz in a contest sponsored by The Latin American Society in Washington D.C., in 1950, she had also received the national Cuban First Prize for her poems. Her work was highly praised by Gabriela Mistral, the Chilean poet and first Latin American woman to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1945. In 1958, Labra published Feverish memory (Memoria de la fiebre) which added to her notoriety as a blatantly erotic woman. The book concerned a theme which has dominated her poetry, which of lost love, as it was written after the unfortunate and untimely death of her second husband.

Carilda Oliver

I Go Crazy 

by Carilda Oliver Labra









I go crazy, my love, I go crazy
when I go in your mouth, delayed;
and almost without wanting, almost for nothing
I touch you with the point of my breast.

I touch you with the tip of my breast
and with my abandoned solitude;
and perhaps without being enamored;
I go crazy, my love, I go crazy.

And my luck of the prized fruit
burns in your salacious and turbid hand
like a bad promise of venom;



though I want to kiss you kneeling,
When I go in your mouth, delayed
I go crazy, my love, I go crazy.





Thursday, November 26, 2015

Cabrera Infante by Oscar Hijuelos

Guillermo Cabrera Infante
Poster by T.A.

Guillermo Cabrera Infante


by Oscar Hijuelos






In 1964, Guillermo Cabrera Infante’s most famous book, Three Trapped Tigers—an ingenious jazz-rich novel about pre-Castro Havana—brought him to the world’s attention as part of the Latin American boom, but all his works are unique and rewarding. A partial list of the many books he has written includes View of Dawn in the Tropics (1974), Infante’s Inferno (1984) andHoly Smoke (1985). A must for readers of literature, Cabrera Infante’s books are a fantastic distillation of a unique and impassioned—quite Cuban—consciousness. A self-described “writer of fragments,” his narratives about memory, life and history are often funny, always interesting and, from the point of view of the writer’s craft, complex and instructive. As the limitations of space prevent me from the critical appreciation his deeply inventive books deserve, I will speak briefly about the circumstances of this interview. It was conducted by fax, and quickly, due to my own travels and Cabrera Infante’s pressing schedule in London, where he lives with his wife Miriam; we have known each other for ten years. He is a friendly, circumspect, immensely approachable man with a capricious and alert mind. A master writer who, in this context, answers a few questions from an apprentice.
Oscar Hijuelos When you were a child in Cuba what were your first exposures to the notion of narrative?
Guillermo Cabrera Infante As a child I was exposed to the narratives of the movies. But the funnies (or monitos as they were called; in Havana we called them muñequitos) were as important—if not more so. The radio came later, where I heard a series of episodes or comedy programs. I was, by the way, the only one of my friends and/or classmates who read the funnies or could tell the difference between the movies and the serials. From the comic books in Havana I learned that a strip could be a trip, as in The Spirit, where Will Eisner’s heroes were always dressed in blue (blue suits, blue felt hat, blue gloves) and had a sidekick who was a black boy, called Ebony in Cuba as in Ebony Concerto. Serials like The Three Daredevils of the Red Circle (the titles are approximations of the Spanish ones) were exercises in waiting for the Coming Attractions. It is rather baffling—at least to me—that there were more thrills in the funnies than in the movies. I taught myself to read by deciphering the inscriptions in the balloons because my father or my mother was fed up with my insistence on instant gratification by translation. They were all, as it should be, forms of popular art more pertinent than literature then.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Guillermo Cabrera Infante / Bites from the Bearded Crocodile

Guillermo Cabrera Infante y Miriam Gómez
Photo by Sara Facio

Bites from the Bearded Crocodile

By Guillermo Cabrera Infante


The decline of the so-called Cuban cultural renaissance started when Virgilio Pinera came down the ladder of the Czech airplane that brought him back from Brussels via Prague. He deplaned with mincing steps and, fluttering like a tropical butterfly suddenly sprung alive from a collector’s case, stopped briefly and then kneeled and leaned forward to kiss the red Cuban soil – only to smack the tarmac instead. (This gesture proved to be some sort of near-miss-cum-hubris for, you see, the runway had recently been covered with a Russian blacktop.) Though it didn’t really all begin then, but a few months earlier when Lunes, the literary supplement of the newspaperRevolucion, on which Virgilio Pinera was one of the principal collaborators (the word was usually meant in its second sense), was banned and closed down for good. Only it didn’t begin then either, but when they censored and sequestered PM, a documentary sponsored by Lunes that didn’t have any political content to warrant the seizure. That was really the beginning of the end. But let’s start at the very beginning – which was when dictator Batista decided to flee instead of fighting and the 26th of July Movement took over the Government in the name of the Revolution, its martyrs and the poor people of Cuba.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Guillermo Cabrera Infante / The Death of Virgilio Piñera






The only true writer of the people left in Cuba, Virgilio Pinera, died a different death.



The death of Virgilio didn’t come swiftly or easily either. He was in his small flat in Havana and he felt ill. Somehow he managed to phone for an ambulance, but it took three hours for the ambulance to come. Paperwork. A police state is primarily made of forms to be filled in and out. When the ambulance arrived, they found him downstairs, lying in the street, already dead. Alejo Carpentier, who wanted a heart attack, was almost eighty when he died. Virgilio Pinera, who didn’t want any heart attacks, was 68. Carpentier’s funeral was stately, pompous. Virgilio’s funeral was another play of the absurd by himself. Rumour spread (in socialist countries, rumour runs, Party news crawls – and a running rumour is always trustworthy) that Virgilio had died. He was to lie in state in a humble funeraria. There was a small group of writers, his old friends and a bevy of young writers who looked queer – and queer they were. Virgilio had been their only true teacher, their mentor, their master in the gai savoir. There were fast-fading flowers and there was even a wreath from the Writers’ Union, with no inscription.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Guillermo Cabrera Infante / Virgilio Piñera

Virgilio Piñera
Poster by T.A.
VIRGILIO PIÑERA
BIOGRAPHY
by Guillermo Cabrera Infante

It was then that Virgilio Pinera came back from Brussels via Prague and missed kissing Cuban soil by about three feet. Some hubris, Early one morning, on militia duty at the gates of Revolucion, I had a phone call from him. I was surprised at first, then I was astounded. Virgilio was calling me from the local gaol at the beach where he lived. He told me he had been arrested on charges of being a passive P. ‘But a capital P, you know.’ I understood: Virgilio meant P, not for Pinera or for poet, but for Pederast. The night before there had been some sort of carnal Kristalnacht in Havana. A special branch of the police, called the Social Scum Squad, arrested on sight everybody walking the streets at night in Old Havana who looked to the naked eye like a prostitute, a pimp or a pederast. This police operation was called the Night of the Three Ps. But at the time Virgilio was miles away, in bed (he believed it was healthy to go to bed early and to rise early), in the shack he christened his big bungalow on the beach. How in hell was Virgilio in gaol?

London Review of Books


Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Virgilio Piñera / Belisario

Tiger by Triunfo Arciniegas

Belisario


by Virgilio Piñera


Translated by Mark Schafer





The tiger had to be given a person’s name. Seeing as he could speak, that he expressed himself correctly and properly, it would have been impolite and even an affront to call him by the name of his species or, even more humiliating, name him like a dog: Scout or Rex . . . . So, it was agreed that he would be called Belisario—Belisario Martínez.
His secretary knocked on the door of his office.
“May I, Mr. Belisario?”
“Do come in,” an affectionate voice replied.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Virgilio Piñera / A Deal with the Devil



A Deal with the Devil
by Virgilio Piñera
BIOGRAPHY

I stopped seeing her about a year , at that time I thought I she had very little time to live, she had seventy years old but looked like one hundred, torture of senile love and materially failed habíanla undone .

One evening I felt called , named from a car . Before it I recognized her voice. It was her, but transformed. He invited me for a ride . Beside me was a woman in her thirties , as they say, full of life.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Virgilio Piñera / The Mountain

El gigante
Arte callejero
La Habana, 2015
Fotografía de Triunfo Arciniegas

THE MOUNTAIN
by Virgilio Piñera
BIOGRAPHY
Translated by Daniel W. Koon


The mountain is three thousand feet tall. I have decided to eat it, bit by bit. It is a mountain like any other: vegetation, rocks, soil, animals and even humans beings that walk up and down its slopes. 

Every morning I throw myself upon it and start chewing on the first thing that crosses my path. I spend several hours at this. I return home with my body exhausted and my jaws distended. After a brief rest I sit in the doorway and gaze into the blue distance. 

If I told my neighbor about it he would surely laugh himself silly and take me for a madman. But being aware of what I am doing, I can very clearly see the mountain losing both heft and height. Soon they will be blaming geological disturbances. 

And that’s my tragedy: nobody will want to admit that it was I who was the devourer of the three-thousand-foot-tall mountain.


1957.


Saturday, November 14, 2015

Virgilio Piñera / Swimming


SWIMMING
by Virgilio Piñera
BIOGRAPHY
Translated by Daniel W. Koon

I have learned to swim on dry land. It turns out to be better than doing it in the water. There is no fear of sinking because you are already at the bottom, and by the same logic, you are already drowned beforehand. You also avoid having to be fished out by the light of a lantern or in the dazzling light of a beautiful day. Finally, the absence of water keeps your body from swelling up.

I am not going to deny that swimming on dry land resembles the agony of dying. At first glimpse one would imagine that you are in the throes of death. Still, it is quite different: at the same time that you are fighting off death you are quite alive, quite alert, hearing the music that comes in through the windows and watching the worm that is crawling along the ground.

At first my friends disapproved of my choice. They evaded my glance and cried secretly. Fortunately, that crisis has passed. Now they know that I feel comfortable swimming on dry land. Occasionally I dip my hands into the marble tiles and hand them a tiny fish which I have trapped in the underwater depths.

1957


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Leonardo Padura / Virgilio Piñera: Rule Breaker & Provocateur

Virgilio Piñera

Piñera: Rule Breaker & Provocateur
BIOGRAPHY
By Leonardo Padura Fuentes

Cuban Writer Virgilio Piñera
Cuban Writer Virgilio Piñera
HAVANA TIMES, July 4 (IPS) – As we immediately approach the 30th anniversary of the death of writer Virgilio Piñera, we can also make out in the not too distant horizon the centennial of his birth, which will be marked in 2012.
Perhaps these moments should stimulate reflection and homage to someone whose life deserves celebration as one of the most controversial yet essential figures of Cuban culture of the 20th century.
Piñera was a great renovator and modernizer of Cuban theater, one of its most revealing poets and an important figure among the nation’s most significant and daring narrators.
To begin to understand and read him, it should be kept in mind what he wrote about himself in an insurmountable and provocative self-portrait:
“As soon as I was old enough, I demanded thought be translated into something more than spit spraying or arm waving; I found three fairly dirty qualities of which I would never be able to clean myself: I learned that I was poor, that I was homosexual, and that I liked art.
“The first because one fine day they told us that ‘nothing could be found for lunch.’ The second because, also one fine day, I felt a wave of blushing cross my face when discovering, throbbing under his pants, the swollen organ of one of my numerous uncles.  The third because, on an equally fine day, I heard my very fat cousin convulsively griping a glass in her hand singing the toast of ‘La Traviata.'”
Perhaps Virgilio Piñera’s greatest cultural merit was his vital and artistic iconoclasm. The rule-breaker, the essential provocateur, a searcher for novel ways of expression and structure, conceptually diverse and challenging, his work today conserves aesthetic greatness, while his life has become the best representation of the torture of marginalization and silence into which the writer was driven.
This fate was his and a significant part of the country’s intellectuals, subjected to the orthodoxy and exclusionary methods of Cuban cultural prescriptions of the 1970s. In that marginalization – “civil death” as it has been called – he spent the last 10 years of his existence, until he died physically.
However, the despairing circumstances and disrespect a part, his artistic work itself continues to be the best way to understand his significance for the culture of the island and the literature of the language.
As a playwright, Virgilio Piñera is the unquestionable creator of modern Cuban theater.  His work “Electra Garrigó” (1948) was in its day a jolt of modernity to a stage that had been paralyzed between crude realism and the superficiality of the vernacular style recently transcended.
No less significant was the contribution of “Aire frío” (Cold Air), 1959, perhaps the height of Cuban theater of the 20th century; a work in which everything harmonizes around the story of a family obsessed by a dream and a reality.
The dramaturgy of Piñera provoked scandals. The Association of Theatrical and Film Editors banned “Electra” for years, and efforts were made to boycott the premiere of “La boda” (The wedding), 1958, by the Association of Catholic Youth, who considered it immoral. However, the reaction to his work was a transformation so deeply rooted – based on his treatment of absurdity, cruelty, surrealism and existentialism – that Cuban theater became conceptually and formally different.
Piñera’s poetry, for its part, is the antithesis of the directions marked by all orthodoxies. It included the group Origins, with which he initially had a close relation but would later break with. Collected in the volume “La vida entera” (All of life), 1969 – what would be the last his books that Piñera would see printed in his life – was perhaps the most emblematic work: the long poem “La isla en peso” (The island weighs), 1943. It is an essential work on the abundant and polyphonic history of Cuban poetry.
But it was perhaps in the narrative, especially the short story, where the renovating spirit of Piñera was sharpest, even though it was less influential on future admirers if we compare it to his theater.
His three novels and three books of stories all appeared posthumously (given the impossibility of publishing them in the 1970s). He was the most renovating of Cuban narrators of the golden epoch of the 1940s and 50s thanks to those stories in which he merged absurdity, surrealism, cruelty and even parody of diverse genre, such as science fiction, to produce ironic looks into the emptiness of existence and the irrationality of many people’s lives.
Since the 1980s, fortunately for Cuban culture, Virgilio Piñera’s work was again published, exhibited and commented upon. The victorious return of the “black sheep” was so overpowering that a Piñeria “explosion” even occurred.
“La vida tal cual” (Life as such), an autobiographical account published by Union a magazine of the artists and writers association (UNEAC) in 1990 began what would be the printing of his unpublished stories and theatrical works, bringing his works onto the stage and restoring him to the stature that he always merited.
Perhaps the most curious aspect of the posthumous restoration of this figure has been the fact that the life, character and tribulations of this writer have transformed him into a character of diverse narrative and dramatic texts. He is almost always shown as a representative of marginalization and a spirit of artistic resistance that possibly Virgilio Piñera embodied better than any other Cuban creator of his time.
In this way – for his vital and artistic pioneering, for the renovation that his work brought in its time, and for the permanency that it has conserved – the occasion of the centennial that approaches could well be apropos to again put into circulation all of his writings – maybe an edition of his complete works. We could recognize him, once again, for his literary greatness and the revolutionary role that he played in the cultural life of his land, “surrounded by water everywhere,” the small country where Virgilio Piñera was born, lived, enjoyed, suffered and died.
Translation by Havana Times


Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Thomas F. Anderson / Corporeal Sustenance and Degradation in a Short Story by Virgilio Piñera

Virgilio Piñera

Corporeal Sustenance and Degradation 

in a Short Story by Virgilio Piñera


By Thomas F. Anderson





...when one is forced to eat part of his own body, the cannibal and the victim become one in the same.
William Arens

Algunos médicos opinaron que si la carencia de carne continuaba, medio pueblo caería en síncope por estar los estómagos acostumbra-dos a su corroborante jugo.
Esteban Echeverría (41)
In recent years the world of Hispanic Literature has experienced a rediscovery1 of Virgilio Piñera (1912-1979), one of the great masters of twentieth-century Cuban letters and the creator of some of the most bizarre and disconcerting pieces of short fiction that Cuba (or all of Latin America for that matter) has produced.  In the introduction to the English translation of Piñera’s Cuentos fríos, Guillermo Cabrera Infante offers the reader a characteristically irreverent, but accurate, description of the nature of the unique experience of reading Virgilio Piñera’s short fiction: “reading these stories you’ll get a kick out of them,” he insists, “[but] I don’t mean champagne or cocaine.

Monday, November 9, 2015

A hundred years of Virgilio Piñera, l'enfant terrible of Cuban literature

Virgilio Piñera


A hundred years of Virgilio Piñera, l'enfant terrible of Cuban literature
BIOGRAPHY

by Mario Lopez-Goicoechea
The founder of Cuban modernism, reviled both by Cuban critics and Castro, gets the centenary tribute he deserves

The sound of seats slamming up, shuffling feet exiting the theatre mid-performance and cries of disgust and disapproval are not the reactions a playwright would normally expect at a premiere. Yet this was the public's response to Electra Garrigó, a play by 36-year-old Virgilio Piñera first staged in 1948. The sacrilegious writer had spat in the face of mainstream Cuban theatre, which still displayed colonial stereotypes that stifled talent and invited intellectual laziness. Cuban modernism had been born.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Cuban-born novelist Guillermo Cabrera Infante dies

Guillermo Cabrera Infante
Poster by T,A.

Cuban-born novelist 

Guillermo Cabrera Infante dies

Associated Press
Tuesday 22 February 2005 16.26 GMT



Guillermo Cabrera Infante, outspoken critic of Cuban leader Fidel Castro and one of the most original voices in modern Spanish-language literature, has died in London. He was 75.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Yoani Sanchez / Dissident Cuban blogger hopeful of digital change

Yoani Sánchez


Yoani Sanchez: dissident Cuban blogger hopeful of digital change



Sanchez makes first public appearance in US and calls on international community to pressure Castro to open up system

Gizelle Lugo in New York
Saturday 16 March 2013



"T
he truth is, all journalists in Cuba are imprisoned," said Yoani Sanchez, in a downbeat assessment of the plight of free speech in her home country.

The 37-year old Cuban dissident and celebrated blogger behind Generation Y, knows as well as anyone the impact of restrictions placed on chroniclers of daily life in communist Cuba. Despite being named one of the 100 most influential people in the world by Time magazine, Sanchez has, for the past few years, been confined to island life. Until now.
Sanchez, whose attempts to travel abroad have been rejected more than 20 timesin the past five years, is currently on an 80-day tour across Europe, Latin America and the United States to speak to those who have been following her story. The trip was only made possible by recent reforms implemented by President Raul Castro, which eased travel restrictions for many Cubans.

Cuban blogger Yoani Sanchez: 'We are imprisoned by censorship, imprisoned by laws.' Photograph: Franklin Reyes


Sanchez's trip has not been without incident, however. In Brazil, she was met by pro-Castro demonstrators during a visit to the Brazilian congress. Similar demonstrations, rumored to be staged, also followed during a recent trip to Mexico.
Little wonder, then, that when Sanchez made her first public appearance in the United States, at Columbia University on Thursday evening, stringent security measures were taken. However, Sanchez received a warm welcome, flowers and a standing ovation as she sat down for a brief Q&A.
Throughout the evening, Sanchez, with her long hair and earth-mother style dress, could be caught tweeting on her iPhone to her 450,000 followers.
One might think Sanchez is always on the internet. But the reality is that she and her fellow Cubans face a battle to gain access to the unfiltered web, like sneaking into a hotel – which, before the reforms, Cubans were prohibited from entering – and spending half a month's wages to use a computer. Cubans have also created their own digital version of alchemy in creating "internet without internet" by downloading uncensored information to flash drives and sharing it with one another.

Life in Cuba is difficult for dissidents like Sanchez, who have been met with verbal attacks to physical detention, although Sanchez notes the worst imprisonment is that of forced silence. "[We are] imprisoned by censorship, imprisoned by laws, imprisoned on an island that is a prison surrounded by water on all sides."
But in recent times, the Cuban government, which, Sanchez explained, has taken note of the events during the Arab spring, has been cautious about how they deal with the regime's detractors. The Cuban government has started to engage with bloggers, creating pro-government blogs to denounce those like Sanchez as agents of outside enemies like the United States. But Sanchez believes this reveals that the government can no longer refuse to acknowledge the power and effect the Cuban blogosphere is having on the people.
And Sanchez only plans to go further in pushing the government's buttons. "[I]t is time to move beyond the realm of the personal and individual expression of the blog – the catharsis that is the 140 characters on Twitter – into a more civic exercise that would be expressed through an independent press in Cuba," she said.
Sanchez will take up the project when she returns to Cuba, and she's unafraid of being charged with "crimes of enemy propaganda". While the venture will, for now, remain in the elusive digital sphere, at least, she says, it will be ready for all Cubans when the change comes.
What were Sanchez's first impressions of the US? "Breathing in [New York City], a city so enormous that I've only ever seen in films … I am absolutely in shock'."
After her stop in New York, Sanchez will visit Washington DC and attend a meeting on Capitol Hill organized by senator Bill Nelson of Florida.
"I see it as an opportunity to narrate Cuba as someone who lives on the island, [to] answer their questions and provide them with my perspective. It's an important moment for Cuba right now, a moment so in flux, where everything can either fall to ruin or be achieved."
Sanchez, a Havana native, wants to highlight the progress and change that has been taking place in Cuba. But according to Sanchez, the "Raul reforms" were not enacted from "a position of power"; they were put in place because the Castros "are backed against the wall" by civil society in Cuba and abroad. And after Hugo Chavez's death, which could signal the end of Cuba's supply of cheap oil, Sanchez expects even more reform.
As for relations with the US, Sanchez tells the Guardian that she retains hope in President Obama. During his first term in office, the president eased travel restrictions on Americans visiting Cuba, along with those on remittances to the country. Those have proved invaluable to Cubans, who earn, on average, just $19 a month.
"I believe we are in times of change," she said. "We need the United States to acknowledge these changes occurring in Cuba – changes that transcend politics and are expanding across the digital world. I would like to be able to say that this new Cuba can count on [President Obama]."
Sanchez acknowledged that the US policy towards Cuba is not entirely shaped by Obama She is also interested in the views of Florida senator Marco Rubio, a Cuban American.
Rubio is opposed to lifting the trade embargo, or providing any of the kind of aid provided by the unrestricted travel and money transfers to the island. He recently blasted colleagues and Americans who visit Cuba, saying that travelers are leaving "thousands of dollars in the hands of a government that uses that money to control these people that you feel sorry for".
Sanchez said: "I respect the different opinions on the embargo. Why? Because they are born out concern for Cuba. There are people who believe the embargo will help Cuba become more democratized. There are also those of us who believe Cuba will become more democratized without it. But all of us agree that we want democracy in Cuba."
Though Sanchez wants to see an end to the embargo, she warns that the US needs to be "cautious" that lifting the embargo does not "end up breathing life into a regime that is on its last legs".
And what of the future?
"The promises shouldn't be made by a leader, a party or an ideology. The promise should come from all Cubans, and it's a promise with our children that they will have an inclusive Cuba, a bountiful Cuba, a Cuba where no one will be punished for expressing themselves," Sanchez said.
"I would promise the new generation a Cuba for all Cubans."