Acceso usuarios
Jeannine M. Pitas
Considered to be one of Latin America's most distinct and unusual poets, the Uruguayan Marosa di Giorgio (1932-2004) urgently seeks knowledge of an ultimate reality. Often writing from the perspective of a child narrator (or, just as often, an adult narrator engaging with the magical and disturbing memories of childhood), Di Giorgio's writing transforms the quotidian space of a family farm into a strange landscape populated by angels, demons, gods, druids, monsters, and the constant presence of nature, which reveals itself to be dangerously sublime as well as beautiful. Just as Lewis Carroll's Alice struggles to navigate the completely unfamiliar world on the other side of the looking glass, Di Giorgio's poetic voice seeks to find her way in a landscape where the borders between reality and dream, memory and desire are never clearly defined. Sometimes, we listen to this voice as it aims to apprehend the transcendent reality it perceives. At other times, Di Giorgio's narrator finds herself in danger and seeks to escape from whatever threat presents itself, whether that of thieves, wolves, or young, godlike men who are simultaneously enticing and horrifying. While the poetic truth that Di Giorgio seeks is often located in memory, sometimes this same memory is oppressive, cumbersome, and better left behind. And, while it is occasionally possible to understand this hennetic truth, there are many other instances when such attempts prove futile, and Di Giorgio's narrator responds with either inexorable pathos or dark, ironic humour.
