Read Online Nazi Literature in the Americas (New Directions Paperbook) by Roberto Bolaño - Free Book Online

“syllabic
mystery that lurks behind the fiery style” of the author.
    In 1962, Cepeda began to contribute to the bimonthly magazine
Panorama,
edited in Lima by the controversial lawyer Antonio
Sánchez Luján. The two men met when Sánchez Luján came to Arequipa to be the
guest of honor at a Rotary Club dinner. As a result, The Page was born;
henceforth Cepeda used that pseudonym to sign articles ranging from political
diatribes to movie and book reviews. In 1965 he combined his work for
Panorama
with a daily column in the
Peruvian Evening News
,
which belonged to Pedro Argote, the flour and seafood magnate, an old friend of
Sánchez Luján. There Andrés Cepeda enjoyed his few moments of glory: his
articles, ranging widely, like those of Dr. Johnson, provoked hostility and
lasting resentment. He gave his opinion on any topic, and believed he had a
solution for everything. He made errors of judgment, was sued along with the
paper, and, one by one, lost every case. In 1968, while leading a whirlwind life
in Lima, he republished
The Destiny of Pizarro Street
, supplementing
the original thirteen poems with five new ones, the elaboration of which, he
confessed in his column (“A Poet’s Work”), had cost him eight years of intense
effort. This time, because of The Page’s notoriety, the critics did not ignore
the book but fell upon it, each trying to outdo the savagery of his peers. Among
the expressions employed were the following: prehistoric Nazi, moron, champion
of the bourgeoisie, puppet of capitalism, CIA agent, poetaster intent on
debasing public taste, plagiarist (he was accused of copying Eguren, Salazar
Bondy, and Saint-John Perse, in the last case by a very young poet from San
Marcos, whose accusation sparked another polemic opposing academic followers and
detractors of Saint-John Perse), gutter thug, cut-rate prophet, rapist of the
Spanish language, satanically inspired versifier, product of a provincial
education, upstart, delirious half-blood, etc., etc.
    The differences between the first and second editions of
The
Destiny of Pizarro
Street
are not especially striking. Some, nevertheless, are worthy of
note. The most obvious difference is that the Arequipa edition is made up of
thirteen poems and is dedicated to Cepeda’s mentor, Alarcón Chamiso, while the
Lima edition contains eighteen poems but no dedication. Of the original thirteen
poems, only the eighth, the twelfth and the thirteenth have been revised, and
the changes are slight—simple word-substitutions (
impasse
instead of
difficulty
,
judgment
instead of
talent
,
miscellaneous
instead of
various
)—which do not greatly
alter the original meaning. As to the five new poems, they seem to be cut from
the same cloth: hendecasyllabics, a supposedly vigorous tone, an overall aim
that remains rather vague, regular versification with occasional shoe-horning,
and nothing in the least bit original. And yet the addition of these five poems
changes the meaning or deepens and illuminates the interpretation of the first
thirteen. What seemed a welter of mystery, murkiness and hackneyed allusions to
mythical figures resolves into clarity and method, explicit commitments and
proposals. And what does The Page propose? To what is he committed? A return to
the Iron Age, which for him coincides roughly with the life and times of
Pizarro. Inter-racial conflict in Peru (although when he says Peru, and this is
perhaps more important than his theory of racial struggle, to which he devotes
no more than a couplet, he is also including Chile, Bolivia and Ecuador). The
ensuing conflict between Peru and Argentina (including Uruguay and Paraguay),
which he dubs “the Combat of Castor and Pollux.” The uncertain victory. The
possible defeat of both sides, which he prophesies for the thirty-third year of
the third millennium. In the final three lines, he alludes laboriously to the
birth of a blond child in the ruins of a sepulchral Lima.
    Cepeda’s notoriety as a poet