In an earlier post, I published a quote from Montaigne that I thought was “answered” by Yeats 300 years later, as if the two had been engaged in a conversation. Let’s try this again, only with a shorter time span and two participants from neighboring countries who spoke the same language.
Here is the late Julio Cortázar’s protagonist in his short story, “Apocalípsis en Solentiname” (Apocalypse in Solentiname) published in 1978. The protagonist is a writer on tour, Cortázar himself, who is weary of the press asking him the same questions, one of which has to do with a writer’s commitment to politics, activism, to bringing about change in his society. [The translations from Spanish to English are mine] –
“¿Te parece que el escritor tiene que estar comprometido?”
***
“Do you think that a writer must be committed?”
Here is the “answer” by Chilean writer, Alberto Fuguet, from the Preface to the collection of stories, McOndo (1996) –
“Si hace unos años la disyuntiva del escritor joven estaba entre tomar el lápiz o la carabina, ahora parece que lo más angustiante para escribir es elegir entre Windows 95 o Macintosh.”
***
“If years ago the young writer had to choose between grabbing a pencil or a carbine, now it seems like his toughest decision before writing is choosing between Windows 95 and Macintosh.”
I take it as a sign of maturity that this generation of writers in Latin America, a group that includes Jorge Volpi of Mexico, Edmundo Paz Soldán of Bolivia, Santiago Gamboa of Colombia, and others can be full-time writers and not part-time activists. The latter, I suspect, are neither very effective as activists nor much good as writers either.
I have also written about this younger generation of Latin American writers here.
Sources: Julio Cortázar, “Apocalípsis en Solentiname” in Alguien que anda por ahí (1978), at 79, Alberto Fuguet and Sergio Gómez, eds., McOndo (1996), at 13
kevin monroe | 28-Apr-09 at 3:20 am | Permalink
I’ve been reading fascinating new bio of John Cheever by Blake Bailey. So far I’ve discovered that Cheever was a drunken adulterous womanizer and manizer who wrote for money. But none of that bothers me because I’ve read almost everything Cheever wrote and I love it all and I’ve never seen one sentence that feels like it was written for money.
What does bother me … Cheever used his influence to get some award for his buddy Updike
instead of Pynchon. Bypassing Pynchon for Updike (may he RIP) is like bypassing Eugene O’Neill for Neil Simon.
Gonzalo Barr | 01-May-09 at 12:03 pm | Permalink
I want to read that bio also, though there is nothing new that we didn’t know from Cheever’s letters and diaries. Give Cheever a break, though. So he pulled for his friend, Updike. I’m speculating, but given the subject of Cheever’s fiction and his style, I don’t see him getting past the first page of “V” or “Gravity’s Rainbow.”
victor crebolder | 02-May-09 at 7:49 am | Permalink
visiting Madrid last week I was relieved to find all sorts of writers without the regular Dutch ring attached
there is a world out there, a literary world without the usual suspects, better still, I didn’t stumble upon one of them.
the Spanish literary world is bigger and better stocked than the horrible venom we are supplied with, venom literary critics here usually label literature.
Gonzalo Barr | 02-May-09 at 9:30 am | Permalink
The Hispanophone world is very diverse, indeed. In the US, we tend to lump all of Latin America together, even though Mexico (and Mexicans) is as different from Argentina (and Argentines), as Ukranians from the Finns. Add to that the works coming out of the US. Though written in English, many of them are influenced by writers from the Boom or later. One good piece of news is that magical realism is dead. Good riddance.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t know much about Dutch literature or the tenor of the literary criticism there. I would welcome any suggestions as to Dutch authors and works I should read.
Thanks for your comment!
kevin monroe | 02-May-09 at 11:38 pm | Permalink
Yes, you’re right. I’ve long ago forgiven Gabo for nominating year after year that mediocrity Graeme Greene for the Nobel.