Sunday, September 13, 2009

Is Natasha Pappin A Good Lawyer

SEPTEMBER: PAUL MONTH OF AUGUST Rokha


(Published in "Time 21")

must repeat: no Chilean poetry is reduced to the son of rail (reduced to a museum full of beautiful things "), a woman entered in the notes (idea of \u200b\u200bthe military government) or the nonogenario antipoet. There are many heroes, unfortunately known almost in pure academics and writers guilds (topic for later.) Of all, I'll Rokha Paul (1894-1968), died the September 10, a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

born in October 1894 in Licantén (seventh region), with the name of Carlos Ignacio Díaz Loyola. The son of a farm manager, talquinas studied in high school, then a seminary where his classmates nicknamed him "the friend Stone" (hence the nickname) and he was expelled by an atheist, and then visit Engineering and Law at the University de Chile. The 20 re-Talca and, after receiving a book of poems dedicated to a beautiful woman decides to marry her. It Luisa Anabalón Sanderson, his immortal Winette, who starts flee after more prolonged and intense romance of Chilean literature ("You are about my life and hot iron stone, / and eternity over the dead / I remember you came and has always existed, / woman, my wife mine, all women / human race ... all regrets in your bones ") . She admires the beauty of feminine and intelligent, her sweetness and as a mother ("'Nenito, peladito, chucurrutito' / and tells the bus-months and he says, 'to ... gu ... u. .. u ' / And they both know has seventy thousand years at least. ")

De Rokha Life is a runaway bull. He wrote 33 books of poetry, three test and many reviews and articles, had its own magazine, "Crowd" and was communist to the bone, even after being expelled from the Party for a mess absurd. The terrible and mutual enmity had with Neruda (near the end the critic Sánchez Latorre tried to "Well, but opposed the Nobel Prize) and his polemics with critics Vicente Huidobro and fools (Alone called" The groans "pathological literature), they give a feature film. Live in poverty, selling paintings, agricultural tools and self-published his own books, for which travels half Chile. In this journey was born his "Epic of meals and beverages in Chile", a culinary experience and anthropological surprising, whose lines, in this month's homeland, should be distributed in taverns, ramadas and streets, buses and trains, schools, regiments , brothels, churches, hospitals and in prison ... ("If possible, sirvámonos hot pie, well CALDUE, or spicy, under the grape arbor, sitting on huge stones, remembering and missing him and denigrating copretérito relatives chunk to chunk of cabernet talquinas; and raining sopaipilla with poncho, completely wet, between orange and purple, accompanied by the parish priest and drunk. ")

Rivers In 1944 the President appointed him a cultural ambassador and knows 21 countries with his wife. It is the glory, but to get to Chile in 1949, Winette ill with cancer and died later. The 61 published "Song of the elderly male, his most harrowing (" I understand and admire the leaders, but I'm the coordinator of the anguish of the universe, the destination suicide bet the deck of the expressional and won, losing the right to lose "). In 1965 he received the National Award, but in 1968-the same year in which suicide his son Charles (poet notable) and his friend Edwards Bello, "this surreal huaso tried to reconcile their ideas of social redemption, decides to leave the third dimension. In this 18, I propose a toast frenzy his illustrious memory.

Where Will The Lump Be If A Ferret Has Blockage

PASS: REQUIEM FOR MAURITIUS


My childhood friend and neighbor Mauricio Ulloa could not pass in August. He died at 37 springs, a few days before, according to conventional wisdom, the elderly may feel safer to live another year. Now I see from an uncertain place and I am not resigned to black leprosy tarnish his memory error ... "Passed away the poor fool, idiot might say. Those that can hear me, understand that the value of a man is not given by external factors such as fame, money and power, and this looks like a fucking sentence shall be initialed in the future.

I met the summer of 80, when I arrived in Temuco from Lotina land, and it was my first friend or co-raids in the then fledgling Villa flavorings. His unbridled imagination, it did not incur great quirks completely cruelty free, hid in the background and child a loving heart. It was, I have to hide it, a male version of Cinderella. I remember no more than ten years and see him busy in a pan with clothes, or prevented from leaving to play for having to wax the house. Younger brother of a sailor father's Protestant family, was in fact unrecognized stem one of the daughters of the matriarch, her brothers were really his uncle, and this anomaly (family prejudices have given way to other horrors in Chile) had always treated him differently.

In 1991 I moved and stopped him, but about seven years ago I met again with him. His family had been exiled by a scandal with a niece (very grown-up) of that - why not! - I blame him alone (Luke 6: 41-42) . Had separated some time ago and had to live on charity of others, coping with hard jobs then, if you study for a degree offered his negligence happy and libertarian did something irresponsible disposal. That was his darkest time, as usual, the highest sensitivity to art: Mauricio think he knew the terrible secret of the beauty and the dangers of crossing over, was a mystic without a compass and an artist a wasteland, a subject fun and immensely creative, pregnant with a language without reading that had shattered the notions depleted sense of humor.

Last year I found him after several years and shared it with some of their own. He worked in a sandwich for her husband's only sister was always unconditional, and lived with a young woman who adored him, who had a three year old son was talking about child devotedly. Had corrected the past and looked calm. But early Saturday the gods wove 22 otherwise his fate: he was hit by a woman who ran away and threw his body over 16 feet from where he was (that they will win the lawsuit, I'm sure) . Now, far from the third dimension, wanders through places of which little is known and continues to investigate. I'll see you again Ulloa crazy!, Attack will play with plastic soldiers, and read libations Quiroga lonely ... where the light is more than just a spark.