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I published four of her translations of Juana de Ibarbourou in the print edition of XANTIPPE which is still available, poets may feel free to contact me at xantippemag at yahoo dot com if interested in obtaining a copy. Great to see Mel out there. Probably unrelated, but it is worth mentioning that Uruguay was the first country in LA in approving divorce only by will of the wife and Delmira Agustini was, certainly, the first woman divorcing by that law, in her ex. But there is someone not mentioned who has been even more relevant to world poetry.

Probably the most important Uruguayan poet writing in Spanish language was Julio Herrera y Reissig Last week I noticed, by chance, that Yale Literary Dictionary -to quote someone, anyway- says that he was the best modernista in Latin America -an opinion that several critics of Lat American poetry would probably confirm.

Very difficult to translate him without significant lost of poetry. In any case Thanks for this, the translation of Melisa's poetry is awesome : Aldo Mazzucchelli. Don, And someone needs to translate Supervielle's fabulous short novel, El hombre de las pampas, which is set in a land much like Uruguay. Magical Realism on steroids, about forty years before the Boom Herrera y Reisig is spectacular.

Forget the famous "agony" of translation; it was methamphetaminate fun.

That Supervielle novel Kent mentions, El hombre de las pampas, sounds a lot like a Cesar Aira novel which has been translated into English by Chris Andrews as An Episode in the Life of a Landscape Painter and concerns a painter who, convinced of Alexander von Humboldt's theories of "landscape physiognomy," heads into the Argentine pampas for astonishing and strange interractions that alter his body and being.

I remember talking to Aira in Buenos Aires about his book when Kent showed up of course interrupting us to blather on, as ever, about some piddling experience he had just had involving running into an old friend.

And I received an email from Aira recently, almost a year later, in which he said he just finished a novel, this is the truth, based on Kent's anectdote. But all of this is a distraction from Melisa's poetry which, for me, carries the day and the entry. Well, that the great Cesar Aira has written a novel that is based on a story I told him one day is certainly a major "event" in my life. It is important that the reader understand that what I am about to tell is absolutely true.

Indeed, there are witnesses to vouch for me. Well, the night before, Forrest and I had given a reading hosted by Reynaldo Jimenez and the editors of Tse Tse, one of the greatest literary presses of Latin America. It was a small, intimate affair. I read horribly, but then we climbed up to Reynaldo's roof and looked at the moon through a telescope, and the brilliant young video artist Leticia El Halli Obeid, who has translated one of my books, Lyric Poetry after Auschwitz, which is coming out in Argentina sometime next year, I think, took her eye from the eyepiece and smiled at me: "Let's get together for lunch tomorrow.

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I know a great old cafe in Palermo that you will love! Goodbye, Kent, have a nice afternoon! So I met Leticia at the cafe, which is called El Gallego, named after the legendary octogenarian owner who has run the place since he took over from his father in the s, as Leticia told me, as we sat at a sidewalk table, under a rolled up awning. And as we talked, El Gallego shuffled out and began to unroll, with a crank handle, the awning above us, for the early afternoon sun was getting strong. And just as he did this a young man pulled up on his bike three feet away from us and hopped off, ready to lock it to the lamp post, and at that exact moment for there had been a brief but violent summer downpour very early that morning a tremendous cascade of water came pouring down out of the awning, soaking this young man thoroughly and making him cry out in surprise.

He looked at Leticia and Leticia looked at him. And they rushed toward each other and embraced and kissed on the cheeks and laughed and laughed. I said. And El Gallego looked at me and chuckled, and said, Ah, yes, these things have been happening here since And so, when we all calmed down just a little bit, I came to learn, as they held hands and joyously explained, that Leticia and Paco had been boyfriend and girlfriend in high school, and later, even after they had broken up, dear friends, though the years had gone by, and they had lost touch with each other, each often wondering where the other might be, and what had become of him or her, until now, on this morning, when a cascade of water had come rushing down upon Paco, from this awning, under which we now sat.

And as we sat there, still laughing, barely a minute after this had happened, Paco jumped up with a great force and yelled, MAMA! For this was Paco's mother, who lived far on the other side of town, and whom Paco hadn't seen for a few weeks, and whom Leticia hadn't seen for years, ever since she and Paco had been boyfriend and girlfriend.

Well, the date was made between Paco and Leticia, and we all said goodbye, and Leticia and I walked a mile or so to another cafe, where we sat outside, and talked for a long time about poetry and coincidences and translation, and by and by we bid a warm goodbye to the other and I walked to a fabulous bookstore, where Forrest and Cesar Aira whom Forrest is translating, and who is generally regarded as Argentina's most important living fiction writer, the heir to Borges, according to many had agreed to meet, and we would wander around the bookstore with him for about 45 minutes, or so, talking about this and that author, and finally Aira said, Why don't we go to a cafe, I know a good one.

We went there, and it was about 5 in the afternoon, and it was very crowded, but we found one table, the only one not occupied, and sat down. I gave Aira a copy of Doubled Flowering, awkwardly, for I always feel somewhat presumptuous giving books to people when I know they will probably never read them, and then I told Aira and Forrest about the fabulous coincidence of a few hours before, and Aira looked at me for a few moments, and then he began to laugh and laugh, and Forrest did too.

And as we laughed, I marveled, though to myself for it would have seemed too much to add it to the story , at the fact that we were sitting at the very table where Leticia and I had sat an hour and a half before, the only table that had been open, when Aira, Forrest, and I arrived there. Well, said Aira, of a sudden, lighting a cigarette, I have to go-- an interview with La Nacion, I'm afraid. And away he went, crossing the street, and we watched him go. And now today I have found out that his new novel is based on the impossible story I told him that day, of the young man, the waterfall, the mother, the poet, and the translator.

I can't wait to read it! Kent, you're a muse! Seriously -- what a story.

Manzanas y Elfos - The Gnome Story in Spanish - Cuentos De Hadas Españoles

And how funny -- and fun, for me the reader anyway -- that us bystanders find out about it the same way you do. When Harriet becomes the site of a marriage proposal, she will have seriously arrived. Poetry as ritual for extracting liquids from otherness, a source found in these excerpts in male bodies: dead, alive, decadent, bound. A thin veneer of pleasure rides the unbearable lineage that dominates her poetry. Or is her poetry comprised of the untenable lineage itself? Gothic: Machado stores the drained Bodies of the Predecessors under her bed.

Perhaps there isn't enough room for all of them. I think her poem is rather amazing, I am interested in all of the animal imagery she uses. Did that strike anyone else? It is quite something. I hope Sarah Stone will soon be publishing some of her Machado translations in journals here! Animals in the domesticated traditions of pets and stock -- the puppies are cute, but with reference to women bearing litters, I hear that pattern as referencing a troubled tradition. One also framing people as pets and stock that ought to be untouched by "stain.

Soy Melisa Machado, la de los versos animales. Rindo tributo a una de mis antecesoras, la gran poeta uruguaya, ya fallecida, Marosa di Giorgio. Ustedes la han nombrado y yo deseo enviarles una nota que he escrito sobre su vida y obra. Salud, damas y caballeros. Introduction to Literary Semiotics. Margherita Bogat y Allen Mandelbaum. Bloomington: Indiana, UP, Crapanzano, Vincent.

Creature Discomfort

James Clifford y George E. Cross, Elsa. Canto malabar y otros poemas. Madrid: Mundo Latino, Madrid: Aguilar, Prosas profanas y otros poemas. Buenos Aires: Femina, Modernismo frente a Noventa y Ocho. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, Dijkstra, Bram. New York: Oxford UP, Santiago de Chile: Aguilar Chilena, Drucker, Johanna. New York: Columbia UP, Guillermo Carnero.

Eberhard, Wolfram. A History of China. Fenton, John Y. Religions of Asia. New York: St. El periquillo sarniento. La Habana: Arte y Literatura, Ferreiro Villanueva, Cristina. Madrid: Daimon, Ferreres, Rafael.