Item description for America, My Brother, My Blood / Amrica, mi hermano, mi sangre: A Latin American Song of Suffering and Resistance (Ocean Sur) by Pablo Neruda, Alexandra Keeble & Rachel Kirby...
Overview Pablo Neruda's political poems accompany the art of indigenous Ecuadorian painter Oswaldo Guayasamin as the two artists combine to make a plea for the dignity and sovereignty of Latin America.
Publishers Description Bilingual in English and Spanish throughout, with extracts from Neruda's most significant poetic work, Canto General, and paintings from every major period of Guayasamin's long artistic career, America, My Brother, My Blood brings to life the battles, losses, victories, and heroes in Latin America's history of resistance.
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Est. Packaging Dimensions: Length: 0.5" Width: 11.25" Height: 13" Weight: 2.3 lbs.
Release Date Nov 1, 2006
Publisher Ocean Press
ISBN 192088873X ISBN13 9781920888732
Availability 0 units.
More About Pablo Neruda, Alexandra Keeble & Rachel Kirby
Pablo Neruda, seudonimo de Ricardo Eliecer Neftali Reyes, nacio en Parral, Provincia de Linares, Chile, en 1904. Paso la mayor parte de su infancia y adolescencia en Temuco, donde escribio sus primeros poemas. A partir de 1927 ocupo varios cargos consulares, primero en Asia y entre 1934 y 1938 en Espana, donde se hizo amigo de los escritores espanoles de la Generacion del 27. En 1940 se instalo en Mexico y posteriormente, regreso a su patria donde, en 1945, fue elegido senador y recibio el Premio Nacional de Literatura. En 1971 fue nombrado embajador en Paris por el gobierno de Salvador Allende. Considerado uno de los mayores y mas influyentes poetas de su siglo, fue reconocido con el Premio Nobel de Literatura en 1971. Tras menos de dos anos en Paris, regreso a Santiago, donde murio en 1973."
Pablo Neruda was born in 1904 and died in 1973.
Pablo Neruda has published or released items in the following series...
Reviews - What do customers think about America, My Brother, My Blood / Amrica, mi hermano, mi sangre: A Latin American Song of Suffering and Resistance (Ocean Sur)?
sisters, brothers, aunts, fathers, mothers and cousins in blood Sep 14, 2008
Battered and broken, the bodies, the beings in Oswaldo Guayasamin's paintings don't rest on walls or canvas. They cry and scream out to you in shrieking voices that only physical torture can bring about. Or they weep quietly on the bloody ground. Too exhaused to cry out. They disappear inside themselves in the sorts of emotional trauma that all too many have known, and all too many others have ignored.
That's what happens when I open this book. I'd never heard of Oswaldo two years ago but I stumbled across this book in the library and ended up checking it out a bunch of times until I finally gave in and bought it. I'm tempted to say his paintings have a texture all their own, but I don't know that for sure. Maybe someone else out there gets this sort of texture, too. Some of these paintings seem to be somewhere between sand painting and ancient cave painting. Others look like they were painted out of wood and blood and bone, but with a topical concern that crushes you in the weight of the horrors these people have witnessed, suffered, or inflicted upon others. They oftentimes don't even seem to be people. It's as if we're seeing emaciated, bipedal, spectral cousins. Not apes, but not human. The way their captors and killers must have seen them.
This book entwines poems from Pablo Neruda's Canto General, 50th Anniversary Edition (Latin American Literature and Culture, 7) with paintings from throughout Oswaldo's career. Oswaldo has some of the most viscerally emotional paintings I've ever seen. As much as the poems add to the feel of the book, you wouldn't need any words to know that wherever these paintings came from, there was suffering, brutality and desperation behind them. I'd spent over an hour looking at it before I ever read any of the poems, and even now it's the paintings first and foremost that draw me back to america, my brother, my blood. Still, there's no denying the symbiosis. It's as if you hold a Neruda poem in front of a mirror but the reflection is a Guayasamin painting.
I'm a little miffed at society because nowhere along the way before 2006 or early 2007 did I stumble upon anyone who pointed Oswaldo out to me as someone I shouldn't overlook. It's very similar to the way I felt after first reading Directed by Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jordan. Hopefully my review will lead someone else to this giant teller of the human story.
All the best pictures are inside. Don't disregard this book because of a 3-inch picture of the cover on a website. Art/books like this are why "better late than never" is a much-loved cliche.