Jorge Etcheverry
(Fisrt published in La cita trunca)
Trying to determine the connection between poetry and exile, I asked myself what it is that makes poetry the artistic form most cultivated in a situation of exile and, at the same time, the most productive literary means for expressing the social and political problems of the day. Perhaps it is poetry’s connection with the “human heart,” which is also what connects poetry with what people care about most, not only in personal individuals terms, but in general, since human beings cannot be separated from their environments, whether social, political, or otherwise. “I am myself, plus my circumstances,” Ortega y Gasset said. Circumstances, the self and poetry, then, side by side. Poetry is, among other things, the most immediate form of artistic expression through language, second only to the lyrics of songs, which in turn can be another form of poetry.
Poetry is also a form of representation, however, and as such, is a form of knowledge, apart from its links to the spoken word, its alliterations, syntax and rhythm. Being an expression of feelings, poetry is also tied to physical, bodily expression.
If we accept that poetry is a form of representation, a form of knowledge, then, poetry is a depiction of the objective world, out there in front of us, like so many other mediated instances of human knowledge.
But poetry is the most immediate and committed form of literary representation since it requires the presence of knowledge in the very act of poetic creation or performance. Even after the most radical attempts to de-signify poetry through the random play of words and phrases, meaning will not allow itself to be excluded; even through this apparently haphazard blend of sounds it reasserts itself. Consequently, we can affirm that poets are always close to the heart of the matter, inasmuch as they are close to their own hearts, not because poetry is essentially lyrical expression but because poetry inevitably encompasses the world in its manifestation. Poetry, like its parents — myth and religion — developed amid “the works and the days,” recording the highlights of daily and historical life, now in the exalted words of prophets and priests, now in the low language of the street, or both together, while expressing the views of the speaker or community.
In a world of nomads and expatriates, of migrations and transhumance, the figure of the exile is unexceptional.
The all-embracing filigree of the novel would seem well suited for creating a pattern from these many odysseys — absorbing, digesting, sorting, and expressing them. Yet it is poetry, not the novel, that can best represent all that and at the same time convey the options available to the exile community. Poetry is immediate; it gathers its audience around. The presence of the speaker is essential, the recitation (even the subjective recital by the reader of a book of poetry). Hence the exile communities often include poetry in their political events, along with the songs that retell the fight of the exiled and their lost ties to home. Poetry may play a varied role in the exile community but it is always there. It enables the poet to share, preserve and publicize the causes and problems of the exile community in its original language. In a community of compatriots within the host country the poet testifies to the permanence of this community in exile and to their links with the original country and their history. It is not necessary that the poems address specific subjects. The poetry of exile can be, indeed it usually is, thematically determined — political commitment or personal nostalgia — but it doesn’t have to be so. In my own experience with the Chilean exile community in Canada, specifically from the late 70s and early 80s, I have found that in any solidarity event the audience enjoyed listening to politically committed poems, the songs of Victor Jara, the music of well-known Chilean groups, the rather cryptic prose poems of the School of Santiago (an avant-garde or experimental group of exiled Chilean poets), and fragments of Gonzalo Millán’s La ciudad, which later would become an emblematic work of Chilean exile and Chilean poetry. The linguistic resonance and the content of these texts touched the audience as they recognized experiences that they had known or lived, thus creating an empathy in a collective sense of togetherness.
Poetry as a cultural and political element of exile is a vital fact and has a long tradition. Not so long ago members of the Salvadorian Community gathered in a café in Ottawa to follow the results of the election being held in their country, and nobody was surprised to find exiled Latin American poets reading their poems. Currently, there is a rather informal wide world network of poets who use the new ICT technologies to communicate and publicize almost immediately the kinds of facts that the ruling powers formerly could keep hidden from the general public.
This poets’ network is part of an informal worldwide nexus of solidarity. It comprises lists of sites that people can use for chatting, sharing texts or opinions, protesting against specific actions or situations, disseminating information or signing petitions. Poetas del Mundo is a successful example of such networks. Poetas del Mundo is a well-organized global group of poets governed by their self-imposed mandate to foster and fight for peace and equity. Over 5000 poets, writing in many languages in many countries, are members of this network. The events and festivals organized by Taller Cultural Sur is a further example of the amalgam of poetry and solidarity in the Americas, and, of course, Poetas Antiimperialistas de América is yet another. The members of this last network, based in Montreal, are progressive and revolutionary poets of the Americas.
It is almost a given that any group in exile will have its quota of poets, sometimes well-known writers, usually cultural promoters, often critics or essayists, as well as activists engaged in political or solidarity work.
History, especially in the Americas, is replete with these polymorph exiled poets. Pablo Neruda in exile produced his Canto general, which some consider the best work of Latin American poetry. It was the new perspective from outside his accustomed environment and the situation of exile that enabled Neruda, without losing his own expression or momentum, to write this poem from the dual perspective of participant and observer.
Nowadays, exile is a reality that can encompass communities who often remain unintegrated in the host country. Some of these groups in exile do not want to become assimilated because their worldview and their political and social views, will never be accepted in the mainstream culture of the host country; they may even be perceived as anathema.
Globalization is imposing homogeneity. Business interests pick and choose whatever they can package for sale. It may be dress or food or entertainment, even the religion of a migrant/exile population, but it cannot be an ideology based in an alternative social and economic system. In this decentralized environment, political thinking, whether produced locally or imported by newcomers, may be unwelcome. Developed societies tend to be one-dimensional. They end up by isolating people in different tribes by creating alienated, lonely individuals.
In this context, poetry becomes a compendium of cultural signs that cannot otherwise be expressed. It has a cathartic effect. And after a gathering where poetry has been read, the audience goes home somewhat relieved.
For exile communities, or communities born in exile, poetry is still the principal way of maintaining a link with the original identity and of continuing to build a new identity without losing the old.
I have already mentioned some networks of poets with strong links between Canada and the world outside. I am sure there are others and their very presence in this event of poets who share exile, in whatever form, in common is proof positive of the enduring presence of poetry in the various ways that exile is understood.
