Forthcoming on Cortázar...

My article on Julio Cortázar's poetry is forthcoming in Issue Three of the Madrid Review, out on 14th February...

The epigraph

As my launch date moves ever closer, I'd like to share the epigraph to The Knives of Villalejo. It's taken from Julio Cortázar, who has long been best known as a prose writer but whose poetry is outstanding:

No aceptar otro orden que el de las afinidades, otra cronología que la del corazón, otro horario que el de los encuentros a deshora, los verdaderos.

One possible translation might read as follows:

No accepting of any order other than affinities, any chronology other than the heart, any schedule other than encounters at an inappropriate time, the true ones.

Hopscotch

"Seminal" is an overused word, but it really is valid when referring to Julio Cortázar's 1963 novel, Rayuela (Hopscotch). A possible translation of part of the author's own introduction to the book might read as follows:

"In its own way, this book is many books. However, above all, it's two books. The reader is invited to choose one of the following two options:

The first book can be read in the normal way and ends at Chapter 56...The second book can be read by starting at Chapter 73 and then following the order that's indicated at the bottom of each chapter...73, 1, 2, 116, 3, 84..."

In other words, Cortázar is inviting his readers to play hopscotch (thus the title of the novel). Likewise, we can either plough through a poetry collection from start to finish or we too can play hopscotch, jumping from page to page, flicking back and forth, dipping in and out, inventing our own connections. I far prefer the latter option. What about you?

Poetic prose

"Poetic" is a term that's often applied to prose, but what does it mean?

Blurb-writers and critics use it as shorthand for the lyrical use of device, for musicality as expressed through sounds and rhythms. However, I feel this interpetation is slack journalese, perpetuating the public's misconceptions of poetry.

In fact, real poetic prose is the pared-down use of language, where each word works overtime for its keep. It's prose where there's a heightened awareness of the slightest nuance belonging to every lexical choice.

The compact, compressed nature of short stories lends itself more to this quality than a novel. Cortázar, Borges and Carver are all examples of writers who began with poetry and then excelled as short-story writers. As for myself, I love telling short stories in my poetry.

Julio Cortázar, what a voice!

Some poets' voices don't seem to fit their work, others' don't meet our own expectations, but Julio Cortázar added hugely to his poems when reading them aloud.

Not theatrical, just completely and uniquely Cortázar, his Argentinian accent formed a partnership with the words that lifts them off the page. Here's a link to an original recording that shows what I mean:



A suitable soundtrack to another glorious British summer!

The invented truth

There are a few gorgeous moments as a reader when an author helps you make that final jump. Cortázar gave me just such a shove when I first read this...

"Supe que no llegaría a la verdad inventada...si me convencía de que país nuevo era vida nueva..."

"I knew I wouldn't reach the invented truth...if I convinced myself that a new country was a new life..."

As a point of reference for a writer who lives abroad (whether through choice or due to political repression), this phrase is extremely relevant. It's been key to me, converting an intangible, semi-conscious feeling into a crystalised, clear thought.

Julio Cortázar

This Argentinian writer is famous for his intricately schemed short stories and renowned novel “Rayuela” (Hopscotch). The idea behind the latter is gorgeous in itself, the execution even better. Part of Cortázar’s own introduction reads as follows :

“A su manera este libro es muchos libros, pero sobre todo es dos libros. El primer libro se deja leer en la forma corriente, y termina en el capítulo 56…el segundo libro se deja leer empezando por el capitulo 73 y siguiendo el orden que se indica al pie de cada capítulo…71, 1, 2, 116, etc”.

“In its own way this book is many books. However, above all, it’s two books. The first one can be read like normal and finishes at the end of Chapter 56…the second one can be read by starting with Chapter 73 and following the order that’s indicated at the foot of each chapter…71, 1, 2, 116, etc”.

The game of hopscotch isn’t just technical virtuosity for its own sake – Cortázar’s challenging of our expectations goes much further. I can’t recommend this novel enough.

Nevertheless, my favourite Cortázar book isn’t a novel or a collection of short stories. It’s his collected poems (Salvo El Crepúsculo), tough to find even in Spain. He’s virtually unknown as a poet, but his skill is immense. Cortázar’s poetry is scattered with terrific turns of phrase, but is also held together by an original vision that juxtaposes everyday and abstract elements:

“…esa comida recalentada, la memoria…”

“…el pozo herido
de una sola cabeza en una almohada…”

And here’s my betrayal of his original versión:

“…memory, that reheated dish…”

“…the wounded well
of a single head on a pillow…”

Wonderful stuff - this is poetry that accompanies me all the time.