There's not much I can say about 1968. Or anything that could add to what has been said. But at least I'm not going to collapse nothing, or at least remove a grain, since what is written is a long collective history and that historians seek to relativize these facts, it will crush your knuckles trying to hit on them. This year is a horizon in my landscape, I can not get away but do not approach, just know that behind him is: Ancient history. That behind the mountains, people are other, have foreign customs, are occupied with other matters. They are very different. Unfortunately we see them with corpses, we do not know how many, but they are living. Although in truth are no longer dead to us, they never were alive. Their voices cry out from the depths ask for nothing, re-entering the anonymous flow of history. Because they have no face, his voice is confused between the others. The historian is faced with the silence as they arrive, then to all sides, is the silence, all the events have passed and left their footprints. Continuously, the most skeptical historians (ie, when the disguised reactionary version with a healthy skepticism) tell us: There were so many have missed an avalanche of screams, a spate of demonstrations and all for a few dead, for our accounts give scientists a much smaller number of you say, it was filled with dead that site, and worst of all is that you use this unfortunate event, is true, we regret together, nothing hurts more than an attack of this kind, you use these unfortunate events to dominate. More or less this is the reactionary discourse of history today, as experience has taught him that not so many extraordinary events, seeks to remove the ends, not as many villains as assumed, but not so many heroes. Experience, as Walter Benjamin said, is a mysterious metal mask, we know what's behind her to speak to your prophet's voice when he says: I speak from experience. It removes the mask and is just smoke. Experience is only what is repeated, similar events accumulates, but do not know that there is extraordinary. He refuses to see beyond everyday life is another form of existence, is dedicated to reproducing the eternal circle of the working week and days of rest and meal times. Nothing is as exciting as a Friday followed by Saturday which will happen on Sunday, dedicated to rest and family life. Thus continue spinning the big wheel of events. I think the fear of breaking the everyday has long been the fear that history, as young people forty years ago were faced with those values \u200b\u200bthat left society as it was, but at the same time sacrificing personal freedom.
Perhaps you explaining in some mystery, and perhaps equal mystery to explain the silence. But within that silence, a series of whispers, those voices do not go at all. It is true that the dead are dead, but then what you hear in the dark. If nothing on the record, if there is anyone who owns the voices. The story is keeping their finery to celebrate two centuries, of course you want to be invited to the feast of the victors, who by this time are the enemies. But we used a hundred years ago, those celebrating were the enemies of the festivities. But it should not alarm us, perhaps those who fought parties would not so pretty but could not tell if this centenary promises. There are many reasons for pride, as a second floor run by private enterprise, will be the biographies of the heroes of those who have a metro station even know I do not know if there is a robot Hidalgo explains his ideals of 9 to 1, Monday through Friday. He presses a button and start talking, it seems that responds to public concerns. Perhaps responsible for the Centenary celebrations are a robot that repeats a hollow speech, and so far nobody has been able to find an address with some more or less coherent ideas.
However, it is more comfortable talking about all that, when passed so long. Zapata is more alive, that's true, but does not, you can invite to the banquet, you can even say his name. Preferably not, but you can, with some delicacy. But 68, perhaps not matter. Yes Maximiliano Santa Anna, but not now because the left has not ceased to point out these facts. Why harass the power, because the movements of today are liable for that movement so brutally repressed. What is not so many died? "Void then give voice? To me the only thing that comes to me now is the opposition of history and poetry. Since there is a current trend that calls for an end to the "historical myths, poetry is then invited to go to the dock. These poets and their beautiful lies, creating myths and spoil the best minds. It is better to make a precise cut between reality and literature, claims history, as if history did not have a position concerned. And the poets preferred to stay out of political opinion, perhaps building their separate worlds. But deep, mystifying and demystifying are two sides of the same coin, or a struggle centered somewhat on ideology, while escaping the facts. While a dispute with another, while the myths are sewn and comes undone as Penelope, while we decide if the reality is knowable or not history, will not miss the political goal hand in our pockets certain that the trial of history will occur when nobody knows what he was being tried. When the story with their evidence, if it meets value and yell their findings will be surrounded by silence.
"not on the record." Yes, it seems. No one. Nothing. I recently found the blog of a descendant of one of the boy heroes, the elementary school teacher said: "The children there were no heroes." As the descendant of Aureliano Buendía when he later learned a good cure for that Macondo Aureliano Buendía did not exist. If the facts were not so, how they were. Not that the poet present evidence, presented experiences and the poem is the road that follows its own truth. A truth that is never extended, which at best serves to reflect on it all humanity. But only reflected. Generally, you are prompted to poetry some "objectivity" as if it had the responsibility as the map is discovered Troy. You are asked to be responsible. You are asked to give informed judgments. And poetry ... well, you know, we have seen, poetry, not long ago if that. Is taken very seriously implement this inner freedom, wants to leave its limits, even when asked to be "politically correct." Contains very deep desire, but the exhibits. Nobody asked me my opinion about committed literature, but I give it, because I know I will never question. And I prefer it when you get the answer he comes their way. Like poetry itself is committed, can not objetársele any omissions. I should turn the question to another site. It is the social theory which should give us an answer, it is she who should answer which way forward to resolve the doubts that made the poets, as well as ways to turn those possibilities into realities poetic potential. Unfortunately, the commitment is lacking is the contrary, the policy with poetry.
However, the poet knows his ways. You can afford to be proactive and mystifying. He can afford anything. Did I say "anything"? Yes, anything. True, you can allow censorship. But there is no camera. For my part, I can not impose anything on anyone. But then I have the right not to go where they call me. And I will not go behind the ritualistic interpretations of 68, and will not follow certain voluntarism sometimes suggested in some passages of the book. Above all, I am not attracted Hispanic metaphor, making the political events in 1968 made a ritual moment, cyclical, history cleaner. But as I said before, the poet is entitled to that. Especially since the poetry never hides his vision of things interested. It is always the interest of the poet. No matter how hidden you have their interests. Ultimately, it is committed as possible. Although things considered, the possible is to some extent concerned. I think in a particular case, since I shall not take the path of speculation. Juan Bañuelos writes about a dead girl. Well, not just a dead girl. Is Regina Teuscher. And you know it, it became a musical about it with Lucero. The producers had good intentions so democratic that even had a nice subtitle: "Music for a nation to awake." In it, as in the famous novel, Regina is chosen by a Tibetan Lama, spiritual beings who have so often helped the CIA and competing for the theocracy and paternalism. The day the book appeared, a woman rose from her place: "I am the older sister of Regina" he said. "In Ana Maria Regina Teuscher Krüger. My name is Maria Luisa Teuscher and have come to ask you, Mr. Velasco, who authorized him to use my sister to make as much money to write this ball of lies, nonsense, to fool the people ... "The writer said: "There are lots of Regina. You talk about one of them. " But that is anecdotal and we do not Like the anecdotal, fuchi, we like the transcendental. And the vital point is that opening night was attended by Martha Sahagun de Fox, Francisco Barrio and Rodolfo Elizondo. In no way was the Teuscher family, ie the owners of the partial and fragmentary that aide. I share with you the concepts of The Journal of Tower of March 26, 2003: "Regina, a musical for a Nation Awakening, tells the story of a girl who was born in Tibet and has a mission: to awaken spiritually to Mexico; achieve a single thought and thus achieve a better country without corruption and with the values \u200b\u200bas heroes who fought and gave the mother country freedom. For all that, Regina is connected with the government of Vicente Fox, for the hope that people had to see a change, as Regina's mission was to meet him and help unite a single thought. "You may remember that those dates Vicente Fox declared heir to the 68. Not all is well, though some former leaders of 68 have been honored by that statement. That way no historical conflicts are resolved. As much as Fox would have learned the songs from Lucero, this does not solve anything.
There is another voice, that has nothing to do with Lucero or his music. It is the silence of Regina. That is at the plate with a disfigured face, but with the unspoiled beauty. Lucero silence that leaves no hearing is the true flow rate at that time. There is a voice, definitely. Meeting at the best poetic moments of the authors gathered in the 68 Epic , Jose Alberto Damian, Alejandro Zenteno Himber Ocampo and Chavez, a recovered voice that gives voice to silence and the voices that cry from the abyss, to which the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska apologized for listening to an album of minuet.
(Epic Book presentation 68, Jose Alberto Damian, Himber Ocampo and Alejandro Zenteno, Lecture Hall, Faculty of Philosophy and Letters, September 24, 2009)
