Desde sus primeros libros, Juan Gelman ha encontrado en el habla infantil una forma de indagar esas pequenas fisuras del lenguaje que le abren paso a la poesia. De este hablar ninando, hablar forjado en una zona preverbal, surgen voces que son claves para explorar el peculiar universo de uno de los poetas mas deslumbrantes y mas influyentes de las ultimas amorar, primaverar, mundar, verbos afines a la necesidad de abolir ciertas pautas culturales y gramaticales que nos alejan de la esencial vocacion de toda nombrar lo que no sabemos nombrar, decir lo indecible. En un poema de 1982 redactado en Roma, Gelman acuna el verbo que ahora sirve de titulo a este nuevo y la pasion mundaba como loca en tu voz, nos dice a proposito de la negra Diana, companera rebelde asesinada en la Argentina. Y que podian buscar sus verdugos, los promotores del no mundo, sino sofocar ciertas maneras de decirle que si a la lucha, a la ternura, a la belleza? Pero la muerte, nos aclara puntual el poeta, adolece de varios defectos. Mas de un cuarto de siglo despues, el verbo anomalo y certero ratifica su vision afirmativa, su necesidad de oponerse, de nuevo y todavia, a todo lo que apuesta contra las cosas imperceptibles que soportan el el pato salvaje que cruza el cielo como una ilusion; el amor que se besa en los puentes; el sencillo callejon de la espera; el sol joven que cesa la vida de la muerte; la hermosura de las calles; los mares, las mareas y todas esas tramas que hacen que el mundo no sea mas que mundo... y ninguna otra cosa.
Juan Gelman is one of the most read and influential poets in the Spanish language. He has published more than twenty books of poetry since 1956 and has been translated into fourteen languages. A political activist and critical journalist since his youth, Gelman has not only been a literary paradigm but also a moral one, within and outside of Argentina. Among his most recent awards are the National Poetry Prize (Argentina, 1997), the Juan Rulfo Prize in Latin American and Caribbean Literature (Mexico, 2000), the Pablo Neruda Prize (Chile, 2005), the Queen Sofia Prize in Ibero-American Poetry (Spain, 2005), and the Cervantes Prize (the most important award given to a Hispanic writer, Spain, 2007).
Long biographical note
Juan Gelman is the most significant, contemporary Argentine intellectual figure and one of the most read and influential poets in the Spanish language. Son of a family of Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine, he grew up like any other porteño, among soccer and tango, in the populous neighborhood of Villa Crespo. At 11, he published his first poem in the magazine Rojo y negro, and in the 1950s formed part of the group of rebel writers, El Pan Duro. He was discovered by Raúl González Túñón, among the most relevant voices of the southern country’s poetic avant-garde, who saw in the young man’s verses “a rich and vivacious lyricism and a principally social content […] that does not elude the richness of fantasy.”
Gelman has published, from his initial Violín y otras cuestiones (1956) to his most recent Mundar (2008), more than twenty books of poetry. These works, as Mario Benedetti asserted early on, constitute “the most coherent, and also the most daring, participatory repertoire (in spite of its inevitable wells of solitude), and ultimately the one most suited to its environment, that Argentine poetry has today”, and Hispanic poetry in general, as the profusion of re-editions of his books and numerous anthologies proves. Gelman’s poetry has achieved international recognition, with translations into fourteen languages, including English. Among his awards are the National Poetry Prize (Argentina, 1997), the Juan Rulfo Prize in Latin American and Caribbean Literature (Mexico, 2000), the Pablo Neruda Prize (Chile, 2005), the Queen Sofia Prize in Ibero-American Poetry (Spain, 2005), and the Cervantes Prize (Spain, 2007), the most important award in Hispanic Letters. No one should be surprised to see him the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature one day.
It would be relevant to note that Juan Gelman has not only been a literary paradigm but also a moral one, within and outside of Argentina. A political activist and critical journalist since his youth, he was forced into an exile of thirteen years because of the military dictatorship that ravaged his country from 1976 to 1983, and the weak governments that followed. In 1976 the ultra-right kidnapped his children, Nora Eva, 19, and Marcelo Ariel, 20, along with his son’s wife, María Claudia Iruretagoyena, 19, who was 7 months pregnant. Nora Eva would later return, unlike his son and daughter-in-law, who were killed; their child born in a concentration camp. The vehement search for the truth about the fate of these family members, which culminated in finding his granddaughter in Uruguay in 2000, has made the poet a symbol of the struggle for respect for human rights.
Like other poets from his time and space, Juan Gelman creates his work starting from a critique of the so-called post-avante-garde poetry, which surges in the Hispanic world in the 1940s and breaks with the powerful avante-garde. He is a poet who denies the labors of the Mexican Octavio Paz, the Cuban José Lezama Lima, the Argentine Alberto Girri, among others, to reaffirm it in his own way. It is a poetry that goes against the current, transgresses the established social and cultural order, challenges the individualism intrinsic to modernity and the neo-colonial condition. A poetry that renounc
“¿Qué castigabas cuando me castigabas? No te pregunto, me pregunto. Ya sé que es tarde para todo, menos este saber de vos que no se sabe.”
Tiene uno que otro verso sublime, pero aún así no suficiente como para compararlo con Girondo, Borges, Porchia, ni Bayley (para mí, los mejores poetas argentinos). Aunque tal vez no sea justo crearme una opinión basada únicamente en este libro, los poetas -se ha demostrado científicamente, hah!- suelen desmejorar con el tiempo, y este tiene toda la desventaja de ser una de sus ultimas antologías. Así que: Los poemas de Sidney West, voy por ti.
Poeta de la brevedad, en este libro Juan Gelman refrenda un lenguaje poético de imágenes audaces, concisión y sintaxis atrevidas en los que cada poema está compuesto de una sola estrofa, y que reposa fuertemente en neologismos, onomatopeyas y recursos lingüísticos propios del habla popular.
Probablemente este libro, cuyo título hace referencia a la experiencia del mundo o “mundar”, sea uno de los ejemplos más vívidos de la poesía de nuestro tiempo. Imperdible.
En la farándula del viento colgué las ropas de mi amor. Qué vuelo tuvo entonces el tiempo que nos pasamos el uno al otro / tan difícil de agarrar completo. Estamos en lo que nos faltamos. Allí nos vemos el uno al otro en una calle donde la luz cae al revés.
Lo compré tras haber leído y disfrutado mucho “Violín y otras cuestiones”, pero no tuvo el mismo impacto. Destaco algunos poemas que me gustaron mucho, pero otros no me llegaron. De todas formas es siempre un placer leer la prosa de Juan Gelman.
No es un libro que considere genial. Pero los poemas de la ultima parte del libro compensan la lectura de todo su contenido. Y uno que otro poema en el medio, con algunos versos legendarios y dignos de subrayar.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.