By Ilka Kressner, University at Albany, State University of New York
Poetry is a compelling voice to help us gain insight into the massive political and urban changes that took place Lima, Peru, during the last thirty-five years. After the Communist Party of the Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) had launched its armed phase in 1980 in the highlands of Ayacucho, the Andean country suffered a civil war with serious human rights violations committed by guerrillas as well as the armed forces (1980-92). It was followed by the repressive regime of Alberto Fujimori, who only fled the country in 2000 during the third (illegal) term of his presidency, as the massive corruption of his government had become too visible. Starting in the 1990s, Peru saw the implementation of a series of extreme neoliberal policies that led to drastic demographic changes, such as rural exodus to the Metropolitan Lima region during the last 20 years.
Peru has a vigorous lyrical tradition marked by a keen awareness of everyday life, the fundamental impact of the daily grind for self-reflection and/as artistic creation. In this context, César Vallejo’s oeuvre, and in particular its inclusion of minute observations and everyday facts remains inspirational for today’s artists. The following strophe from his “Espergesia”/”Have You Anything to Say in Your Defense?” (Los heraldos negros/The Black Messengers; trans. James Wright, Neruda and Vallejo) illustrates a poetic stance of existential disquiet, rooted in, and deeply shaken by everyday life that resonates with contemporary poetic production:
They all know that I’m alive,
that I chew my food…and they don’t know
why harsh winds whistle in my poems,
the narrow uneasiness of a coffin,
winds untangled from the Sphinx
who holds the desert for routine questioning. (Neruda and Vallejo 216)
(Todos saben que vivo,/que mastico… Y no saben/por qué en mi verso chirrían,
oscuro sinsabor de féretro,/luyidos [sic] vientos/desenroscados de la Esfinge/preguntona del Desierto; Vallejo, The Complete Poetry. A Bilingual Edition 160)
With its entwinement of objects, human movements, spatial conditions, abstract terms and figurative images, this passage highlights vulnerability as a key characteristic of human life in the rapidly changing city (in the context of Vallejo’s work, that of Lima of roughly 1915-18). Now, a century later, in the context of a blatant neoliberalization, vulnerability remains key: it is both an immediate bodily experience of the individual and strategy to link and connect us with others. Thus, the awareness and articulation of vulnerability can become a source of interconnectedness toward a shared responsibility (in the sense of an ability to respond). I propose to read vulnerability as a strategy of resistance in the context of neoliberal realities in the Peruvian capital.
In her presidential address at the 2013 convention of The Modern Language Association, Marianne Hirsch spoke on “connective histories in vulnerable times.” Hirsch places vulnerability as a connector and link at the center of her analysis. For her, “vulnerability… can move us toward an ethics and politics of open-endedness and mobility, attuning us to the needs of the present…” (330). A theorist of trauma, the concept helps her to expand the retrospective view of trauma toward alternative temporalities that might “galvanize a sense of urgency about the need for change, now” (337).
Vulnerability as a shared presence of communication, attunement to the needs of the present in view of a traumatic past, and as an ethics of connectivity and relationality (Butler 99) help me to approach contemporary Peruvian poetry marked by a past traumata, the violence of the years between 1980 and 1992, the time of the armed conflict that was fought among the Shining Path, Peruvian armed forces, and the peasants of the highlands surrounding the region of Ayacucho (Theidon 5), and the violent silencing of that trauma during the Fujimori presidency. This poetry aims at connecting troubled perceptions and responding to shifting realities—from rural to urban, and from a past urban reality to that of the neoliberal megalopolis that developed during the mid to late1990s. In her study Intimate Enemies. Violence and Reconciliation in Peru, Kimberly Theidon notes that in Quechua, people oftentimes use the wod “the Sasachakuy tiempo (difficult time)” to describe the armed conflict, a time “bracketed as a finite period” (3). The general, vague term is a telling example of the lingering trauma. The “difficult time” is still in need of its verbal expression, particularly by those most affected by the armed conflict: almost 80% of the 69,280 people who had died during the years lived in rural areas and spoke Quechua. Contemporary poetry written in Spanish proposes a strategy to the lingering trauma, which I describe as that of a voiced vulnerability of the human body that connects beyond age, race, class; at times, it connects the living with the dead via the shared violability.
Among the poets whose works I study are Roxana Crisólogo, Miguel Ildefonso Huanca, Victoria Guerrero Peirano, and Carlos Villacorta Gonzáles. All reflect on the experience of coming of age (and rage) during the eventful 1980s to 2000. For instance, Crisólogo’s Ludy D (the title refers to the nickname of a guerrilla militant of the Shining Path movement) is written from the perspective of a young student in Lima of the 1980s. It centers on her conflicted relationship to the militant party; on the one hand the attraction of its intransigence, and on the other her repulsion to its cruelty. The context of Guerrero Peirano’s El mar, ese oscuro provenir (The Sea, this Obscure Future), on the other hand, is the Fujimori regime.
In her book The City at its Limits: Taboo, Transgression, and Urban Renewal in Lima, Daniella Gandolfo describes the mood in the Lima of the mid-1990s as that of “euphoria. Imported vehicles had flooded the streets, high-rise buildings rose at breakneck speed, and while weekly bombings of electric towers in the outskirts of the city had for years kept entire neighborhoods in a recurrent state of darkness, the streets now seemed to glitter in a continual parade of light. Businesses had opened or reopened their doors, invigorated by foreign capital that poured into the country with Peru’s reinsertion in the international financial community…” (1‒2). Guerrero’s voice brings the urgency of the moment into the poetic realms and helps reflect on what lies behind the glitter and bright lights. While they refer to, and cite the discourse of publicity, many of her poems invoke the dark spaces of the brightly lit city, and describe for instance the solitude of the stars that have become invisible as a result of the light pollution. This poetry is marked by metaphors that stress the vulnerability of the human (and posthuman) body in the neoliberal city. In Guerrero Peirano’s poem significantly titled “ciudad sumergida” (submerged city), the lyrical voice describes how
a little boy felt the breath of the city
on its lonely walkways
nobody knows what those eyes have seen
but there are shoes, there is blood, there are kisses
on the dead ground… (my trans.)
(un niño ha sentido el aliento de la ciudad/por las azoteas solitarias/…/nadie sabe lo que han visto aquellos ojos/pero hay zapatos y sangre y besos/sobre la tierra muerta… (Guerrero, El mar 25)
Guerrero’s poetic city is depicted by a haunting image of a barren earth, with bodiless eyes that register human remains, such as shoes, blood, and kisses (or maybe remembrances of the latter). There are no bodies to be touched or voices to be heard. There is nothing but a verbal enumeration of a few material objects that point to those who were disappeared during the years of human rights violations from the 1980s to 2000. With the exception of the earth’s respiration, the scene is unanimated, posthuman and even spectral. Guerrero underscores the connecting power of vulnerability that links human bodies, abandoned objects and mutilated space. Space does not only reflect the memory of a massacre in an image of desolation. Moreover, it is connected to the body, being a requirement of the body to live. Here, I refer to Judith Butler’s description of space as “an infrastructural necessity and public good” (101). The juxtaposed portrayals of the human body, inhuman body and of the body of the environment underscores the connectedness among them. The act of mutilating one of the elements has a direct impact on the others. In the poem cited above, this shared vulnerability becomes an agent to mobilize, relate and recount.
The agency of the lyrical voices in the works by Crisólogo, Huanca, Guerrero Peirano, and Villacorta Gonzáles is far from that of a stable subject position. Oftentimes, poems become the sites of verbal enumerations of disposable items, gestures, glimpses, urging their readers to rearrange them. Words have no more healing power (I interpret this as a comment on the limitations of the various Truth and Reconciliation Reports). They are fragile, and similar to the human beings and the surroundings they describe, the words in Guerrero Peirano’s poem themselves face dismemberment, explosion or satiety. Vulnerability is explicitly put as a mode of relationality. It extends from, and joins the body of writing with the human body and the body of the city. In this way, vulnerability can connect and mobilize and, to return to Hirsch, “galvanize a sense of urgency about the need for change, now” (337).
Butler, Judith. “Bodily Vulnerability, Coalitions and Street Politics.” Differences in Common:
Gender, Vulnerability and Community. Ed. Joana Sabadell-Nieto and Marta Segarra.
Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2014: 99-127.
Crisólogo, Roxana. Ludy D. Lima: Ediciones Flora Tristán, 2006.
Gandolfo, Daniella. The City at its Limits: Taboo, Transgression, and Urban Renewal in Lima.
Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2009.
Guerrero Peirano, Victoria. El mar, ese oscuro provenir. Lima: El Santo Oficio, 2002.
Hirsch, Marianne. “Connective Histories in Vulnerable Times” PMLA. 129.3 (2014): 330-348.
Neruda and Vallejo: Selected Poems. Ed. Robert Bly. Boston: Beacon Press, 1971.
Vallejo, César. The Complete Poetry. A Bilingual Edition. Berkeley: University of California
Theidon, Kimberly. Intimate Enemies. Violence and Reconciliation in Peru. Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 2013.