Thursday, October 30, 2008

Nas quintas, uma foto ou duas // Thursdays, a photo or two




Quem diria que tem (outros tipos de) elefantes em Idaho? Fotos tiradas num museu caseiro numa cidadezinha (esqueci do nome... alguém ajuda?) do norte de Idaho, durante uma visita à minha família dois anos atás.


Who would have thought that there are (other sorts of ) elephants in Idaho? Pictures taken in a little museum in a tiny North Idaho town (I’ve forgotten the name ... can someone help?), during a visit to my family a couple of years ago.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

A Poem a Saturday (well, almost)

Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Congresso Internacional do Medo

Provisoriamente não cantaremos o amor,
que se refugiou mais abaixo dos subterrâneos.
Cantaremos o medo, que esteriliza os abraços,
não cantaremos o ódio porque esse não existe,
existe apenas o medo, nosso pai e nosso companheiro,
o medo grande dos sertões, dos mares, dos desertos,
o medo dos soldados, o medo das mães, o medo das igrejas,
cantaremos o medo dos ditadores, o medo dos democratas,
cantaremos o medo da morte e o medo de depois da morte,
depois morreremos de medo
e sobre nossos túmulos nascerão flores amarelas e medrosas.

The International Congress of Fear

For the time being we will not sing of love,
which has taken refuge in subterranean depths.
We will sing of the fear that sterilizes embraces,
we will not sing of hatred, because this does not exist,
there is only fear, our father and our companion,
the enormous fear of the wilderness, of the sea, of the desert,
the fear of soldiers, the fear of mothers, the fear of churches,
we will sing of the fear of dictators, the fear of democrats,
we will sing the fear of death and the fear of what comes after death,
then we will die of fear
and upon our graves will grow flowers, yellow and tremulous.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Jaula / Cage -- Astrid Cabral


We were honored here at Smith to host this Monday a visit by the Brazilian poet, Astrid Cabral, and her translator, Alexis Levitin, for a lunchtime reading of poems from her collection, "Cage," newly published in a biligual edition by Host Publications. These are beautiful poems, in both languages, many evoking the animals, real and imagined, of Astrid's childhood in the Amazon region of Brazil -- Astrid grew up in Manaus. It was great to hear them in her voice, and it was exciting to see such interest expressed here on campus, with more than 40 people in attendance.

Here's one of my favorites among this collection -- about watchng whales, on t.v.-- in Portuguese first and then in Alexis' translation. (Photo above courtesy of Pamela Petro.)

Baleia Albina

Pelo úmido azul
a baleia albina baila
e assombra
a sala em penumbra
barbatanas rêmiges
a massagear
volumosa massa d’água
o trêmulo transparente
corpo marinho...
Marítima mamífera
a espraiar
a cútis de elanca
enquanto as gordas vastas ancas
nadam dançam
se lançam
pelos pastos salgados
de algas e sargaços...
Será menina
a baleia albina?
Será adulta
a náufraga lua animal?
Ou centenária
a submarina cetácea nau?
Senhora dona do aquático sítio
supondo-se
solitária soberana
desfila tranqüila na líquida passarela
e revela
coreografia de estrela
e solfeja
cantiga de amor arquiantiga
e corteja
sem saber-se a prima-dona
de um mega espetáculo
sem pressentir
a intimidade exposta
à ribalta de mil olhos
pelo globo em volta…
Como o mar tão vasto
cabe entre sofás?
como nos toca o mar
se a pele não nos molha?
À noite os gatos são pardos
À noite somos jona e pinóquios
acomodados na barriga da sala
essa estranha baleia
cujas paredes entranhas
o oceano invade
e lambe até tarde…
Somos então outra casta de peixes
pescados nas malhas
de eletrônica rede.

White Whale

Through humid hued blue
the white whale weaves
a startling dance for
the darkened room
fins fanning
massaging
vast masses of water
transparent trembling
body of the sea…
Marine mammal
stretching out
its elastic sea…
while its vast and massive hips
weave wave
wander
through salty pastures
of branching thallus and sargasso…
Could it be a child,
the white white whale?
Could it be an adult
shipwrecked animal moon?
Or centenarian
a submarine cetacean ship?
Lady mistress of that aquatic place
imagining herself
solitary sovereign
she parades tranquil on the liquid runway
and reveals
the choreography of a star
and sings solfeggios
of old love songs ancient of ancients
and flirts
without knowing herself the prima donna
of a mega-spectacular
without foreseeing
that intimacy exposed
by the footlights of a thousand eyes
throughout the whole surrounding globe…
How can the sea so vast
fit between sofas?
How can the sea touch us
if it doesn’t wet our skin?
At night all cats are black
At night we are all jonas and pinochios
housed in the belly of the room
that strange whale
whose walls bowels
the ocean invades
and laps till it grows late…
And so we are another sort of fish
caught in the meshes
of an electronic web.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Open Letter to Senator Obama on U.S. policy in Latin America

October 12, 2008

Dear Senator Obama:

We write to offer our congratulations on your campaign and to express our hope that as the next president of the United States you will take advantage of an historic opportunity to improve relations with Latin America. As scholars of the region, we also wish to convey our analysis regarding the process of change now underway in Latin America.

Just as the people of the United States have begun to debate basic questions regarding the sort of society they want-- thanks in part to your own candidacy but also owing to the magnitude of the current financial crisis-- so too have the people of Latin America. In fact, a recent round of intense debate about a just and fair society has been going on in Latin America for more than a decade, and the majority are opting, like you and so many of us in the United States, for hope and change. As academics personally and professionally committed to development and democracy in Latin America, we are hopeful that during your presidency the United States can become a partner rather than an adversary to the positive changes already under way in the hemisphere.

The current impetus for change in Latin America is a rejection of the model of economic growth that has been imposed in most countries since the early 1980s, a model that has concentrated wealth, relied unsuccessfully on unrestricted market forces to solve deep social problems and undermined human welfare. The current rejection of this model is broad-based and democratic. In fact, contemporary movements for change in Latin America reveal significantly increased participation by workers and peasants, women, Afro-descendants and indigenous peoples-- in a word, the grassroots. Such movements are coming to power in country after country. They are neither puppets, nor blinded by fanaticism and ideology, as caricatured by some mainstream pundits. To the contrary, these movements deserve our respect, friendship and support.

Latin Americans have often viewed the United States not as a friend but as an oppressor, the guarantor of an international economic system that works against them, rather than for them-- the very antithesis of hope and change. The Bush Administration has made matters much worse, and U.S. prestige in the region is now at a historic low. Washington's tendency to fight against hope and change has been especially prominent in recent U.S. responses to the democratically elected governments of Venezuela and Bolivia. While anti-American feelings run deep, history demonstrates that these feelings can change. In the 1930s, after two decades of conflict with the region, the United States swore off intervention and adopted a Good Neighbor Policy. Not coincidentally, itwas the most harmonious time in the history of U.S.-Latin American relations. In the 1940s, every country in the region became our ally inWorld War Two. It can happen again.

There are many other challenges, too. Colombia, the main focus of the Bush Administration's policy, is currently the scene of the second largest humanitarian crisis in the world, with four million internally displaced people. Its government, which criminalizes even peaceful protest, seeks an extension of the free trade policies that much of the hemisphere is already reacting against. Cuba has begun a process of transition that should be supported in positive ways, such as through the dialogue you advocate. Mexicans and Central Americans migrate by the tens of thousands to seek work in the United States, where their labor power is much needed but their presence is denigrated by a public that has, since the development of opinion polling in the 1930s, always opposed immigration from anywhere. The way to manage immigration is not by building a giant wall, but rather, the United States should support more equitable economic development in Mexico and Central America and, indeed, throughout the region. In addition, the U.S. must reconsider drug control policies that have simply not worked and have been part of the problem of political violence, especially in Mexico, Colombia and Peru. And the U.S. must renew its active support for human rights throughout the region. Unfortunately, in the eyes of many Latin Americans, the United States has come to stand for the support of inequitable regimes.

Finally, we implore you to commit your administration to the firm support of constitutional rights, including academic and intellectual freedom. Most of us are members of the Latin American Studies Association (LASA), the largest professional association of experts on the region, and we have experienced first-hand how the Bush administration's attempt to restrict academic exchange with Cuba is counter-productive and self-defeating. We hope for an early opportunity to discuss this and other issues regarding Latin America with your administration. Our hope is that you will embrace the opportunity to inaugurate a new period of hemispheric understanding and collaboration for the common welfare. We ask for change and not only in the United States.

Sincerely,

SIGNED:Eric Hershberg, LASA President 2007-09, Professor of Politics and Director of Latin American Studies, Simon Fraser University

Sonia E. Alvarez, LASA Past President (2004-2006), Leonard J. Horwitz Professor of Politics, University of Massachusetts-Amherst

Charles R. Hale, LASA Past President (2003-2004), Professor of Anthropology, University of Texas at Austin

Marysa Navarro-Aranguren, LASA Past President (2003-2004),

Charles Collis, Professor of History, Dartmouth College

Arturo Arias, LASA Past President, (2001-2003), Professor of Spanish and Portuguese University of Texas, Austin.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

A poem a Saturday

Nelson Ascher (do livro Parte alguma, presente da nossa querida amiga, Lucia, no Rio):

Elegiazinha

i.m. nikita (gata da inês)

Gatos não morrem de verdade:
eles apenas se reintegram
no ronronar da eternidade.

Gatos jamais morrem de fato:
suas almas saem de fininho
atrás de alguma alma de rato.

Gatos não morrem: sua fictícia
morte não passa de uma forma
mais refinada de preguiça.

Gatos não morrem: rumo a um nível
mais alto é que eles, galho a galho,
sobem numa árvore invisível.

Gatos não morrem: mais preciso
-- se somem -- é dizer que foram
rasgar sofás no paraíso

e dormirão lá, depois do ônus
de sete bem vividas vidas,
seus sete merecidos sonos.

---------------------------------------------------------

Brief Elegy

i.m. nikita (inês’ cat)

Cats don’t ever really die:
they are simply reintegrated
into the purr of eternity.

Cats don’t in fact ever die:
their souls steal away
chasing after the soul of some mouse.

Cat’s don’t die: their fictitious
death is nothing more than a
more refined form of laziness.

Cat’s don’t die: it is headed toward
some higher level that they, branch by branch,
climb an invisible tree.

Cat’s don’t die: more precisely
-- they disappear -- that is to say
they went to scratch couches in heaven

and there they will sleep, after the onus
of seven well lived lives,
their seven well earned naps.

(translation i.m. vicky (joel and barbara’s cat))

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Importance/difference between having and being.

Erich Fromm , “To Have or To Be.”

Flower in a crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you there, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
(Tennyson, English poet)

When I look carefully
I see the nazuna blooming
By the hedge!
(Basho, Japanese poet)

I walked in the woods
All by myself,
To seek nothing,
That was on my mind.

I saw in the shade
A little flower stand,
Bright like the stars
Like beautiful eyes.

I wanted to pluck it,
But it said sweetly:
Is it to wilt
That I must be broken?

I took it out
With all its roots,
Carried it to the garden
At the pretty house.

And planted it again
In a quiet place;
Now it ever spreads
And blossoms forth.
(“Found,” Goethe)
Ero.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

" O espirito da Nova Inglaterra."


Apesar da gripe que me atormenta neste momento, tudo continua indo bem, ainda mais quando tem as cores espetaculares do outono da Nova Inglaterra por toda parte. Ero














Monday, October 13, 2008

The good news of the bad news

Yes, for those who know us, you might have expected this wouldn't be all poetry and pretty pictures. Yes, there will be our own humble rants and raves on politics, or our pointing out others' rants and raves we think more people should be paying attention to.

First stab: the good news among all this financial and economic calamity is that it seems to point to an exhaustion -- probably just temporary, of course -- of absolute, religious-like faith in the free market(as Thomas Frank's "Baffler" called it a few years ago, "The God That Sucked") as the ultimate all-wise and fair arbiter human good and progress, of orthodox neo-liberalism positing that publicly minded regulation of capital was inherently bad. The message is reinforced by the awarding of the Nobel prize to Paul Krugman -- certainly no radical, but one who warned for years that the housing bubble was in fact a bubble like those before it that would burst, but of a scale that would be systemically calamitous. He didn't get the prize, as least mostly, for his NYT editorializing, but even his academic work was instrumental in pointing out the mixed bag of neo-liberal globalization and -- what a breakthrough! -- of pointing out that what benefits a multi-national corporation does not always benefit the people in the nation where that corporation is headquarted. Stunningly simple for a change -- corporation is not synonymous with people -- and odd that we would need to be reminded of that, still.

As a good overview of the crisis, and the need to still be wary of the still ongoing canonization of neoliberal rhetoric and ideologues, lest they return after the state once again stabilizes the private sector, see this great talk by Naomi Klein, speaking against the naming of a building or something at the University of Chicago after the godfather of radical free-market ideology, Milton Friedman, himself the winner of a Nobel prize in another now bygone moment. Maybe the U. of Chicago would like to update their naming rights, and give the building to Krugman?

Naomi Klein: Wall St. Crisis Should Be for Neoliberalism What Fall of Berlin Wall Was for Communism
As the world reels from the financial crisis on Wall Street and the taxpayer-funded $700 billion bailout, we spend the hour with Naomi Klein on the economy, politics and “disaster capitalism.” The Shock Doctrine author recently spoke at the University of Chicago to oppose the creation of an economic research center named after the University’s most famous economist, Milton Friedman. Klein says Friedman’s economic philosophy championed the kind of deregulation that led to the current crisis.

http://play.rbn.com/?url=demnow/demnow/demand/2008/oct/video/dnB20081006a.rm&proto=rtsp&start=10:52

Saturday, October 11, 2008

A poem a Saturday

A little habit I'd like to pick up from my friend Adriana, who blogs from Boulder. Just a poem a week, not much with hopes for a whole lot. This week, a poem from the Czech poet Miroslav Holub (1923-1998), from a little Penguin paperback I picked up while working at Meyer and Meyer Used Books in Moscow, ID, and that I'm now sending off on a belated whim to Joan, whose last name I think she shares, mostly at least, with Miroslav. -- Malcolm

Love

Two thousand cigarettes.
A hundred miles
from wall to wall.
An eternity and a half of vigils
blanker than snow.

Tons of words
old as the tracks
of a platypus in the sand.

A hundred books we didn't write.
A hundred pyramids we didn't build.

Sweepings.
Dust.

Bitter as the beginning of the world.

Believe me when I say
it was beautiful.