'Mexicaness???'

Lately fate has shown it self poetically, I mean it either literally and figuratively...

Coincidentally and ironically I came across El Laberinto de la soledad (The loneliness labyrinth) by Octavio Paz (thanx to Mariana). Ironically? well just because this book talks about why Mexicans behave like we do, well not as simple as that, the book goes through history in a bid to explain the psychology and philosophy behind this 'Mexicaness'. Reading this book just few days about to throwing ourselves into an absurd, almost religious patriotism results providential. However this book was written in the 50's, and although a number of events that could have changed the Mexican paradigm have happened. I personally think that it is still valid.....

The other thing I came across was a short poem written by Jose Emilio Pacheco. In the poem the author tries to picture from his own perspective, a delimited and synthesized concept of patriotism. A concept far away from the abstract and a bit irrational and traditional one...

Here, humbly, I will try to transcribe an extract from the book and the poem it self.


Mexican Masks

Old or young, creole or half caste, labourer or professional. The Mexican shows himself as an entity that locks up and preserves himself; the face is a mask, the smile is mask. Standing in his shy solitude, he is tough and courteous simultaneously. As a defence system the Mexican serves him self from either the word or the silence, the grace or contempt, the irony or submission. As jelous of his own intimacy as of others intimacy.

Everything can hurt him; a word, or even just the suspicion of words. His language is reluctant and allusive. Even while in silence, he express himself, the silence has shades, textures, indecipherable threats.

In summary, he builds up a wall between the reality and himself. An invisible wall. However impassable. A wall of impassibility and remoteness. The Mexican is always far away, far away from the world, the other and far away from himself.



High treason

I dont love my country
Its abstract glow is elusive
However(it mightn't sound good)
I'd give my life for ten places,
some people,
some ports, some pine forest, some fortress,
a mounstrous, grey and tore away city
some heroes, a range of mountains
and three or four rivers.