On poetry

Although I started this blog years ago with some poetry: Frost’s The Road Not Taken and Cavafy’s Ithaka, I have not written as much about poetry as I should have, given how much I enjoy it, and compared to other arts. Sure, I recently wrote about Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, but that is still not enough for my liking. So here is an attempt to fix that.

My first conscious appreciation of poetry came in college with Pablo Neruda. To this day I am still moved by his words, and Tu Risa is still one of my favorite poems. Alfred Lord Tennyson’s Ulysses is also right up there as well as the two poets mentioned at the beginning. But the list of favorite poets is a long one: Lorca, Bequer, Espronceda, Benedetti, Mistral, Pessoa, Milton, Manrique, Dante, EE Cummings, Wordsworth and Coleridge, Blake, Elizabeth Bishop, and on and on. But one does not have to go to the big guns to find poetry that will amaze you. Naïf, amateur or student writers can take you places you would not think. Sometimes poetry hits you when you least expect it: I was surprised and blown away by 22-year-old Amanda Gorman at Biden’s Inauguration. Quadriplegic Ramón Sampedro, euthanasia’s cause célèbre in 90s Spain also wrote some sweet lines. Check out this poem in the namesake movie:

For me, the beauty of poetry is the capacity it has to transport you in a few words, in a verse. Never mind words, Haikus only have seventeen syllables – three lines!! I love Haikus: although I knew and had read them before, I actually became a follower of Haiku poetry by reading, wait for it… Jack Kerouac’s book of Haikus! (although he does not always follow the 17-syllable rule), since then I have read and enjoyed Bashō, the master. I am in awe of poets since I cannot write my way out of a paper bag (thank you for reading this, it means a lot).

Years ago, at Walnut Hill School I got a glimpse, a backstage tour of the poetry world from the brilliant poet and teacher Daniel Bosch. I once invited him to my advanced Spanish class to talk about Neruda’s Veinte poemas de amor…, which we were studying at the time, and he blew our minds!! Daniel also wrote a hilarious poem when I got my citizenship: Song for a New American. To this day it is framed and on my wall!!

I write all this because I have just read …del amor hermoso by Chilean author and teacher Luis Correa-Díaz, and it is wonderful. His capacity to write about love, apparently in a playful manner, but not really. His poems are soaked in ecclesiastical vocabulary and structure which gives his writing an extra edge and throws you off the traditional expectation as a poetry reader. This is apparently three books in one, which again is a bit unsettling: where there originally three separate books? Is it all another manipulation of my expectations? Another old-fashioned trick, which still works is that he “found” the poems in a manila envelope, and the ones he did not find are “anonymous”. Never mind the trickery, the poems are lovely and they keep you reading and paying attention.

Books, books, books

Some of the books I had lying around

Some of the books I had lying around

Locked up at home during the Coronavirus quarantine, I get to read a lot, which got me thinking of books This blog exists because of books. You see, I started this blog to report my Harley-Davidson trip visiting universities across the South for my PhD in Spanish Literature, that is: books. Yes, I am addicted to books. Having said that, I am a slow reader. So, while I enjoy books, I do not devour books like some folks do. Anyway let’s start at the beginning:

My first blurry memories of reading are of Enid Blyton, I guess like millions of children. Fortunately in high school, I had the privilege of being taught by Mrs. Soledad Sprackling. And my mind exploded with what she had me read: Borges, Neruda, Lorca, et al. That was it, I was hooked. In college my super cultured friend Silvia Velez introduced me to Gabriel García Márquez and my mind exploded again! It has been a series of explosions since.

Luckily I can read in Spanish, English and French and find it very frustrating when I cannot read every book in the original language it was written in. In fact, when I was twirling about with the idea of getting my PhD, I wanted to study comparative lit Spanish / Russian, but there was no way I was going to learn that level of Russian in a hurry, so that was the end of that thought. Miguel de Unamuno, one of my literary heroes actually learnt Danish so he could read Kierkegaard, bastard.

Here is a list of some of my favorite books with only number 1 in a clear position – all the rest vary according to the day you ask me:

  1. Miguel de Cervantes – Don Quixote. I have only read it three times, once with the amazing Prof. Louise Cohen. She shared with me her passion for this book, which I have written about in previous posts.
  2. Alexandre Dumas – The Count of Montecristo. Love, adventure, revenge, massive wealth, what’s not to like?
  3. Leo Tolstoy – Anna Karenina / War and Peace / Death of Ivan Ilyich. Tough call on this one…
  4. Ernest Hemingway – For Whom the Bell Tolls or The Old Man and the Sea. It takes a foreigner to describe Spain with such precision. High School is also where I got hooked on Hemingway.
  5. Gabriel García Marquez – Cien Años de Soledad (But really any by him). Of course, nowadays, I keep thinking of Love in the Times of Cholera
  6. Voltaire – Candide. Possibly the best satire ever written?
  7. Miguel de Unamuno – San Manuel Bueno, mártir. Proto-existentialism at its best!
  8. Mikhail Bulgakov – Master and Margarita. Or as the Rollings Stones interpreted it: Sympathy for the Devil
  9. Francisco de Isla – His early works. After all, I am the leading authority on the subject…

Of course, there are many, many more, but I don’t want to bore you, dear reader, any more.

Interestingly, my last read was. The Grace in Dying by Kathleen Dowling Singh which was recommended to me (like so many more) by my dear friend Patxi. It is about the spiritual journey of death, and how the best approach to death is meditation. I started reading it before the massive Covid outbreak and it has helped me digest the numbers in the news. I loved it. My next read, to celebrate the centenary of Benito Perez Galdos’ death will be Trafalgar, about the battle of the same name, not the square in London.

There you have it, some thoughts on reading and my some of my favorite books. Which are yours? What do you recommend? Tell me in the comments!!

That is not one of the editions of Quijote that I have read

That is not one of the editions of Quijote that I have read

Brother Eulogio, El Paular monastery, and the Lozoya river

My childhood friend Jaime introduced me to brother Eulogio in the summer of 2011. I was floored by this man’s overflowing spirituality, granted he is a pro, but still. We got to spend the day with him and I was mesmerized.

The other day without Jaime’s two kids we drove over the Guadarrama mountains with our bicycles in his van to the monastery at El Paular to meet with brother Eulogio again.

Brother Eulogio is a “retired” 82 year old Benedictine monk. He was a Vespa mechanic before becoming a monk at 23. At the monastery he was put in charge of meeting with couples that wanted to get married there, later he managed just about all the other jobs at the monastery.

El Paular was built as a Carthusian monastery in 1390. By the time it got dismantled in the confiscations of Mendizábal of 1835, it was mentioned in Juan Ruiz’s Libro de buen amor, as its protagonist embarks from there on one of his “excursions” where he will meet the terrible Serranas. It housed the monk that wrote a Glosa to the Coplas por la muerte de su padre by Jorge Manrique. It also housed Enlightenment writer and first romantic (according to Russell Sebold) José de Cadalso, among others.

In 1958, the monastery was reopened under the Benedictine order. Eventually a luxury hotel was opened next door – which is now closed. Nowadays there are only 6 monks left and a couple of “visiting” monks. The monastery houses guests that can stay and take part in the monastic lifestyle. Jaime spent years there doing great restoration work in the beautiful chapel and the cloister, so he knows the monks very well, so much so that he just walks in, the other day, through the kitchen!

Some of the recent accomplishments of the monastery have been reuniting all the Vicente Carducho paintings that lined the cloister and had been scattered after the confiscation as with the choir engraved wood chairs.

Jaime and I spent the morning chatting with brother Eulogio. He asks pointed questions and reasons with you. It is one of the most – if not the most – intense and spiritual experiences for me.

We had not asked to stay for lunch, so we said our goodbyes, picked up our bicycles and started an excursion to the top of the Peñalara hills. We had a lovely pic-nic by the side of the Lozoya river and carried on until we had to ditch the bikes and continue hiking for a good hour until we arrived at the source of the Lozoya, the Cascadas del Purgatorio. We had a refreshing swim in the pools before heading back down. Near the end of our trip Jaime got a flat so we had to walk the last couple of miles to the car.

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First year Ph.D. essays

As  promised, here are my essays from my first year of Ph.D. Warning, Caveat Emptor, Aviso a navegantes: These are ROUGH DRAFTS, BORRADORES, no edits, no corrections, unfiltered, organic, and full of impurities (errors), read at your own risk, you have been warned, these writings are not fit to publish (yet).

El prólogo a las Novelas amorosas y ejemplares de María de Zayas y Sotomayor

Torrente a XX Century Quixote

JORGE MANRIQUE y Alsonso de Cervantes

Early Modern Prologues

DIA GRANDE DE NAVARRA