Southern Picaresque: Mark Twain's "Huckleberry Finn"

Perhaps the greastest novel in North American Literature, Twain's Huckleberry is a prime example of the burlesque, with a penchant towards the picaresque, in very much the same level as Don Quijote. Huck and Jim's adventures in the Mississippi River are incomparable, nostalgic, symbolic. Narrated in the southern vernacular, this book is a definite must-read. With verisimilitude, Twain has created a work of supreme endurance, one that undoubtedly merges romanticism and realism, encompassing southern ethics, refusal to reform, love, hate, filial obligations, slavery, fact and fiction. An example of Twain's multitalented art is his authentic and ingenuous way of conjuring real life phonetic speech: "Dah, now, Huck, what I tell you?--what I tell you up dah on Jackson islan'? I tole you I got a hairy breas;, en what's de sign un it; en I tole you I ben rich wunst, en gwinter to be rich agin; en it's come true; en heah she is! Dah, now! I doan' talk to me--signs is signs, mine I tell you; en I knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwinter be rich agin as I's a stannin' heah dis minute!" Recommended Reading.

Recommended Reading: "Something Wicked This Way Comes", by Ray Bradbury.

Dark poetry reigns in Bradbury's seminal novel of fantastic proportions. Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway, two boys in the author's fictional Green Town, Illinois, are captivated by the sudden arrival of a sinister carnival: Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show. When they venture late at night after hours to procure a more furtive look at what goes on there, they find an unwanted horror that soon haunts them forever. Mirrors, mazes, calliopes, merry-go-rounds; the sweet idea of youth regained, old fears vanished, good vs. evil, and the importance of books all form part of motiffs that end in a single culminating moment when just one hearty laugh can vanish all the evil in the world. Stark, elliptical, and deeply poetic imagery permeate this grand work of magic realism, ala Americana. Buy at http://www.amazon.com/

"Triptychos", three poems by Manny Delgadillo.

Ode to a Barricade

The lonely and shabby barricade lingers
Aloft the broken highway, with its
Orange light, all chipped and shattered.

The street lights hang high above,
The cars pass by hurriedly,
The pedestrians pushing it aside.

And the barricade lies askew, and asks itself:
In today's highway, in yesterday's
And tomorrow's, where will I stand?

Nocturnal Haiku

Over the lonesome banks of memory,
Find your time, withered;
Perched as if on a bar stool.

Visions and Things

A flock of memories
And the thread of life, suspended.
A child picking grass in a green meadow,
The prodigal son wandering as yet.
The implacable circles between Two Lovers,
A life not lived…
Jasmines perfuming, undressing the twilight air.
A brook, a trembling leaf, the tenuous page
Of a lonesome book blown away by a feral wind.
Lovers undressed.
Things and visions, visions and things.

"Triptychos", tres poemas de Manny Delgadillo, traducido al español por Félix Anesio

Oda a una barrera

La solitaria y escuálida barrera se yergue
Encima de la carretera rota, con su
Luz naranja, toda astillada y quebrada.

Las luces de la calle cuelgan en lo alto,
Los autos pasan apresurados,
Los peatones empujándola hacia un lado.

Y la barrera yace oblicua, y se pregunta:
En las carreteras de hoy, en las de ayer
Y en las de mañana, ¿adónde estaré yo?

Haiku Nocturnal

Sobre las desoladas riberas de la memoria,
Encuentra tu tiempo, marchito;
Posado en la banqueta de un bar.

Visions and Things

Una bandada de recuerdos
Y el hilo de la vida, suspendido.
Un niño recogiendo yerbas en un verde prado,
El hijo pródigo aún vagando.
Los implacables círculos entre Dos Amantes,
Una vida no vivida…
Jazmines que perfuman y desvisten el aire del ocaso.
Un riachuelo, una hoja trémula, la tenue página
De un libro triste mecida por un viento feral.
Amantes desnudos.
Cosas y visiones, visiones y cosas.

A poem by Manny Delgadillo.

"Ode to a Barricade"

The lonely and shabby barricade stands

Aloft the broken highway, and its
Orange light, all chipped and shattered.

The street lights hang high above,
The cars pass by hurriedly,
The pedestrians pushing it aside.

And the barricade lies askew, and asks itself:
In today's highway, in yesterday's
And tomorrow's, where will I stand?

Fantastic Planet/ Planeta Fantastico. Recommended Viewing/ Altamente recomendado

Filme animado de ciencia ficcion del realizador frances Rene Laloux. 1973. Premio especial del jurado del festival de cine de Cannes. Synopsis: Los Draags oprimiendo a los Oms (humanos) en un planeta salvaje, repleto de paisajes y visiones surealistas. Finalmente, aprenden a convivir en paz y armonia. La moraleja del filme expresa que la coexistencia pacifica es lograble en tanto exista la firme voluntad de los pueblos de alcanzarla. Recomendamos verla.

Animated film by French director Rene Laloux. Received the special jury prize at the Cannes Film Festival in 1973. Plot: The Oms (humans) are confronted by the oppresive Draags in a fantastic planet, replete with surrealist landscapes and visions. Finally, both groups learn to live together in peace and harmony. The film's overall theme denotes the possibility that peacefull coexistence is something that can be accomplished as long as a firm willpower exists between nations to accomplish it. Recommended viewing.

Young Writers: "Only Darkness", a poem by Elizabeth Ponce, a 16 years old student and member of "Literary Club" in Miami.

I look towards the sea, and
through the turquoise waves I see
the setting sun lying under its
yellow and pink and purple shroud.

I know that I will be with you soon,
but here I am, remembering
the first and last day without you.

I only remember darkness,
I see darkness, only darkness.
Although all are dressed in white,
I only see blackness.
A single line of cars,
all black, just black,
like my own heart.

Remove it and take it with your flowers
whence you will never return.
I am looking inside of me,
and find only darkness!

I wanted to disappear,
To not see you part when the sky cried.
How could it happen?
I don’t know.
I only know that soon we will be together.
Soon, very soon, as soon as my body
unites to the fierce, wild sea.
Soon, I will see you very soon.
Just now!

Escritores Noveles: "Solo negro", un poema de Elizabeth Ponce, joven escritora de 16 años, miembro del "Club de Literatura", en Miami.

Miro hacia el mar,
veo tras las olas color turquesa
el sol reposando bajo su manto
amarillo y rosado y púrpura.

Se que pronto estaré contigo,
pero antes recuerdo
el primer y el ultimo día sin ti.

Solo recuerdo negro,
veo negro, todo negro.
Aunque todos vayan de blanco,
yo solo veo negro.
Una hilera de carros,
todos negros, solo negros
como mi corazón.

Despréndelo y llévalo con tus flores
Alla de donde nunca regresaras.
¡Miro dentro de mí,
Y solo veo negro!

Quise desaparecer,
no verte partir cuando el cielo lloró.
¿Cómo pudo pasar?
No lo sé.
Solo se que pronto estaremos juntos.
Muy pronto, tan pronto como cuando
una mi cuerpo al mar bravío.
Pronto, te veré muy pronto.
¡Ahora!

"Los Teóricos", un poema de Carmen Karin Aldrey.

Los teóricos invitan a las frases prefabricadas
Sueñan que hacen lo que leen y escriben
Se fabrican la humanidad de la que carecen
Critican en otros lo que deben autocensurarse

Los teóricos duermen cuando morimos
Culpan a los demás de sus propias injusticias
Inventan jardines cuando sólo pueden incendiarlos
La ira los consume cuando son descubiertos

Los teóricos mienten pensando que dicen la verdad
Se escudan entre paredes para no ver el sol
Hieren a los que aman porque no se reconocen
El mundo que aceptan es cuadrado y sin ventanas

Los teóricos pasan por la vida ignorando sus leyes
Quieren ser ellos mismos proyectándose en los demás
Juran amar, sin embargo a cada paso odian
Destruyen lo que tocan sintiendo que construyen

Los teóricos suman dos más dos con resultado uno
Cubren de inmundicia las aguas puras del mar
Dicen amar la tierra donde pisan antes de escupirla
Hacen lo posible por vaciarla mientras rezan

"The Theoreticians", a poem by Carmen Karin Aldrey, translated into the English by Felix Anesio and Manny Delgadillo

The theoreticians offer prefabricated phrases
They dream they do what they read and write
And fabricate the humanity they themselves lack
They criticize in others what they should self-censor

The theoreticians sleep soundly as we die
Blame others for their own injustices
Invent gardens when they can only set them on fire
Rage consumes them when they are finally unveiled

The theoreticians lie while thinking they are saying the truth
They shield themselves between walls to hide away from the sun
Hurt those they love because they don’t acknowledge each other
The world they accept is like a square and without windows

The theoreticians pass through life ignoring its laws
They want to be themselves projecting in others
Swear they love while in every step they hate
Destruction from their touching instead of construction

The theoreticians add two plus two and come up with one
Cover the pure waters of the sea with grimy filth
They boast of loving the earth while they spit before stepping over it
They do what’s possible to empty it while they pray

"Y No Se Empeña En Tonos Mayores", un poema de Rogelio Obaya.

Un violín amarillo, bello como el otoño.--F.J.

Y no se empeña en tonos mayores:
él sabe cuánta aurora deshilachada
pesa sobre sus cuerdas.
Y no se queda solo ni un instante
aunque tres manos gualdas lo acaricien.
Y no le roba al viento los perfumes
ni se jacta en las ventanas de ser
el color del universo.
Es únicamente un violín desafinado
herido de muerte en el ojal de su memoria.

"And It Does Not Strive For Major Keys", a poem by Rogelio Obaya, translated into the English by Manny Delgadillo

A yellow violin, as beautiful as the autumn.
--F.J.

And it does not strive for major keys:
It knows how much the shredded dawn
weighs over its strings.
And it does not remain alone for an instant
Although three yellow hands caress it.
And it neither steals the air’s perfumes
Nor boasts in the windows of being
the color of the universe.
It’s simply an out of tune violin fatally
Wounded in the loophole of its memory.