Tripping down narrow cobblestone streets in between sips of Moscatel, listening to Portuguese slip off surrounding tongues, the sibilant sounds of a language so sexy it lingers on the hips like a lover’s fingers… This is the flip side of Brazil…distilled races in every face, Moreno inflections of Catholic grace... I look at Lisboa and see a long unbroken line, a lush spectrum of fine wines, the treasure trove of words Saramago left behind, & so much history to unwind...
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Saramago on Subcomandante Marcos
I've become a fan of Nobel Prize winning writer Jose Saramago in the last few weeks. I didn't realize he passed away last year till Erick Rosa told me... That's a huge loss for the literary world, but at the same time, he left behind a huge body of work... Below is an excerpt published online in Reality Sandwich regarding Subcomandante Marcos & the Zapatistas in Chiapas Mexico, a favorite subject of mine in years past. Have a read... Saramago's essay is a biting indictment of the treatment of indigenous population of Mexico by the government of that country, and has all the subsumed outrage of a life-long communist weary of the atrocities of history unfolding all around him. "...It is really only a matter of understanding, understanding the expression in those looks, the solemnity of those faces, the simple way of their grouping together, feeling and thinking together, weeping the same tears in common, smiling the same smile, understanding the hands of the sole survivor of a slaughter that are held like protective wings over the heads of her daughter, understanding this endless stream of living and dead, this lost blood, this acquired hope, this silence of someone who has borne centuries of demanding respect and justice, this suppressed anger of someone who has finally wearied of hoping..."
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