The couple travels by sea to Mexico, where the poet will assume the position of Consul General of Chile, and once in that position it will be very difficult for him to move to the Cuban capital without a plausible reason. That is why Delia asks Marinello that the Cuban friends write to the Chilean authorities “and let them know of your wish that Pablo pay you a visit.” He adds that the poet “is getting quite ahead of his Canto General”, and that “if he does not write personally and has left me that pleasure”, it is because he is overwhelmed by a series of “tedious and unpleasant” letters that he must send to Chile and he wants take advantage of the stopover that the ship they are traveling on will make in Lima to send them.

That handwritten letter dated July 29, 1940, which is in the collections of the José Martí National Library and whose reading is difficult, especially the initial page, due to the faded ink, bears a postscript from Neruda himself. “I can’t wait to go to Cuba,” he tells Marinello and asks him to greet Wenceslao Roces, translator of Marx into Spanish, the poet Manuel Altolaguirre, Nicolás Guillén, Francisco and Félix Pita Rodríguez, and Emilio Ballagas. He immediately adds: “And in particular to all of Havana except for the old bastard Juan Ramón Jiménez.”

It is worth clarifying that by then Platero’s poet had left Cuba. They had an old quarrel, which time had been intensifying, motivated by Juan Ramón’s opinion about the Chilean’s poetry, whom he considered “a great bad poet, a clumsy translator of himself who sometimes confuses the original with the translation” . Opinion that in 1942 he modified to say that Neruda expressed “with exuberant trial and error an authentic general Hispanic-American poetry, with all the natural revolution and the metamorphosis of life and death of this continent” to conclude: “You are prior, prehistoric and turbulent, closed and gloomy”, a judgment to which the Chilean was not insensitive, who did not stop expressing “the deep emotion with which I read his lines, which with their sincerity magnify the admiration that I have felt for his work throughout my life”.

deed song
It will not be until 1942 that Neruda comes to Havana for the first time. The great communist poet has been invited by a Catholic writer, José María Chacón y Calvo, then Director of Culture of the Ministry of Education. At the National Academy of Arts and Letters he gave four lectures, two of them on Francisco de Quevedo, and he evoked, says Volodia Teitelboim, in his biography of the poet, “for the first time in America, His Majesty’s Post Office, Don Juan de Tassis , Count of Villamediana, in love with the Queen, who one day sets fire to the curtains of the Palace stage in order to have a pretext to flee with the tall forbidden beloved in his arms”.

He came back in 1949 or 1950 for a few hours. He was returning to Mexico from Europe – he had attended a peace conference in Paris and the celebrations for the sesquicentennial of Pushkin’s birth in Moscow – and the plane he was traveling on made a stopover in Havana due to a technical failure. Persecuted in Chile after President González Videla’s betrayal of the Popular Front, then-Senator Pablo Neruda was “the wandering poet,” as the journalist Enrique de la Osa called him.

When he returned to Havana for the last time, at the end of 1960, he brought the poems of Canción de gesta, the first book – he boasted of it – “that a poet in any part of the world had dedicated to the Cuban Revolution”, and which closes with a Meditation on the Sierra Maestra that is also a summary of the poet’s life in that dawning hour: “… I receive my past in a cup / and I raise it for the entire earth, / and although my homeland circulates in my blood / without his career ever fading / at this hour my nocturnal reason / points to Cuba its common flag / of the dark hemisphere that awaited / finally a true victory…”

On that visit, in the Plaza de la Revolución, before a million people, the poet read, with his peculiar intonation, his song To Fidel Castro: “Fidel, Fidel, the people thank you / words in action and deeds that sing , / from afar I have brought you / a glass of the wine of my country…”

Bohemia magazine offered a cocktail in his honor and, of course, he did not leave Cuba without tasting the dormant black beans, the tachinos, the yucca with mojo and the roasted pork slices with juice at La Bodeguita del Medio. Aware of his presence in that very Cuban restaurant, two excellent comedians, René de la Nuez and the “Galician” Posada, did not want to miss the opportunity to greet him and, oddly enough, they entered the establishment riding a donkey, which made Neruda burst out laughing.

“The usual nonsense of the poet, his inconvenient attitudes, which led him to be offensive at times, perhaps without meaning to, did not leave the slightest memory,” narrator Lisandro Otero wrote in his memoirs (1997).

His love and fidelity to the Cuban Revolution were not clouded by those “painful misunderstandings” of 1966, when Cuban writers, in an open letter, judged “his poetic, social and revolutionary activity,” according to Neruda himself. The poet, offended, responded sharply.

While he did not forgive those who signed the letter, whom he lambasted or disparaged in his memoirs, the incident did not dampen his sympathies for Cuba and his Revolution. He says it explicitly in I confess that I have lived: “A black point, a small black point within a process, does not have great importance in the context of a great cause. I have continued singing, loving and respecting the Cuban Revolution, its people, its noble protagonists.”

(By Ciro Bianchi)

We share with the readers of Cubadebate the special program for the centenary of Haydee Santamaría:

In 2022:
Friday October 21 || 5:00 pm. || Casa de las Américas: Inauguration of the exhibition The Fabric of Memory. Tribute to Haydee Santamaría, with works from the Haydee Santamaría Art of Our America Collection.
Tuesday October 25 || 3:00 pm. || Che Guevara Room: Presentation of the 2023 calendar “Haydee Santamaría one hundred years after her birth”. A co-edition of Ocean Sur and Casa de las Américas.
Friday, November 25 || 5:00 pm. || José Antonio Echeverría Library; Inauguration of the bibliographic and documentary exhibition “Centenario de Haydee Santamaría”.
Thursday, December 15 || 3:00 pm. || Che Guevara Room: Presentation of the book Hay de defend la vida, a compilation of texts by Haydee Santamaría, which Casa de las Américas publishes in co-edition with Ocean Sur and a special issue of Casa de las Américas magazine dedicated to its founder.
Thursday, December 15 || 5:00 pm. || Che Guevara Room: “Songs for Haydee”. Concert by the Ensemble Vocal Luna, under the direction of the teacher Maribel Nodarse.
Friday December 16 || 2:00 p.m. || Cinema 23 and 12: Special function of the Cuban Cinematheque with Icaic materials dedicated to Haydee Santamaría or that include her presence.
Friday December 30 || Broadcast on Cuban television: Screening of the documentary “Nuestra Haydee”, a production of the Casa de las Américas, directed by Esther Barroso.

In 2023:
Sunday January 15 || 5:00 pm. || Avellaneda Hall of the National Theater of Cuba: Special function of the National Ballet of Cuba dedicated to the centenary of Haydee Santamaría.
Friday January 20 || 7:00 p.m. || Che Guevara Hall: Concert by José María Vitier dedicated to Haydee Santamaría.
Thursday, January 26 || 7:00 p.m. || Che Guevara Hall: Concert by Amaury Pérez dedicated to Haydee Santamaría, as part of the activities of the 2023 Casa de las Américas Literary Prize.
From February 20 to 24 || Manuel Galich Room: Dedicated to honoring the memory of Haydee Santamaría, the International Colloquium “Politics and Politics in the History and Culture of Latin American and Caribbean Women” will be held as part of the Casa de las Américas Women’s Studies Program.
Wednesday, March 8 || 3:00 pm. || Manuel Galich Room: Women and women’s struggles from the Casa de las Américas. A panel in homage to Haydee Santamaría.
Friday April 28 || Che Guevara Room: Celebration of the 64th anniversary of the Casa de las Américas.

A dilemma? Yes, a dilemma, perhaps half resolved when I put into practice a kind of distancing where the close image is replaced by words that little by little allow me to develop some themes. What a Borgesian paradox!, since later those same issues must be addressed with rigor, coherence and knowledge of the cause.

For example, from my condition as a son, it is very complex for me to say Nabori Indian. Nabori Indian? No, if I called him daddy, old man, old man, how can I call him something else now? Nothing, that’s how things are: one comes to life and hears voices from here, from there, from this one, from that one, from everyone… However, there is so much external noise that the voice of any person can be silenced. What must I do then to listen to the sound of my most intimate echo?

Perhaps, and in the first place, to understand or unravel the resonances of a man named Jesús Orta Ruiz, for which, inevitably, I have to resort to the aforementioned distancing.

Here is a small detail: the person who signs these lines has already published several books of narrative, poetry and essay. As if that were not enough, he has also ventured into the cinema and leads an intense academic life, giving conferences, workshops and literature classes in the most diverse places in the world. However, the person who signs these lines continues to be, for a large majority, the son of the Naborí Indian, only the son of the Naborí Indian.

Perhaps an honorary title that will accompany me for life? This is the acoustics of a personal reality where the following response resonates daily: welcome to the honorary title! Among other things, because I will always wear it with great pride.

The three preceding paragraphs briefly explain the title that identifies this essay approach. El Indio Naborí: a centenarian with a magnifying glass, since we are facing a poet whose work is an essential ingredient of the national imagination. Mentioning his pseudonym, anywhere on the Island, first becomes synonymous with identity, and then ends up becoming history, legend or fascination of obligatory reference; a truth that, in a clear way, explains the socio-cultural event that has been taking place with the celebration of his Centenary.

Although of course, if it is a matter of remembering it, I could have started my analysis with a tone more or less like this: “…Jesús Orta Ruiz, better known as the Naborí Indian, born in Havana, Cuba, on September 30, 1922. Poet, essayist and journalist. National Prize for Literature and National Hero of Labor of the Republic of Cuba. He is considered by literary critics as one of the most outstanding figures of Cuban letters…”.

In those words, everything is true, but aren’t they foreign? Believe me I feel too distant. Anyway, I already said it: matters related to this poet are not easy for me. What I feel is anguish? I don’t know, I really don’t know.

Then the magic detachment reaches my brain, responsible for driving away the dark cloud and bringing back a dawn where the father and son keep their faces out of the gloom. Why remember the Nabori Indian from sadness? Today is a great day. Enough of complaints! And he must be remembered from poetry, since she was the cardinal axis of his life.

Logically, it is not a matter of sewing and singing, because we are dealing with a poet highly committed to the historical moment in which he lived, with a poet who had an intensely creative life, with a highly atypical poet. In the same person, the revolutionary and the intellectual, the journalist and the folklorist, are united, but the cultured poet and the popular poet are also united, and so are the poet who writes and the poet who sings or improvises tenths; For this reason, it is very complex to carry out an independent analysis of each part without ultimately becoming accomplices of its significant whole.

Nothing more like this man than his own poetry, which is why he had no need to write his memoirs. Whoever really wants to know him, inside and out, only has to approach his work, both written and oral, having as an analysis premise that between his minstrel alter ego and his lyrics alter ego there never existed no contradiction, because both were complementary.

There is a detail that I must not overlook: what is Cuban, let’s say that what is most authentically Cuban, is not in the words or strophic forms that the poet uses, nor in the themes that he develops. Nope! Here what is most authentically Cuban is in the experience, in the immaterial sense exhibited by his loyal belonging to Cuba. The Naborí Indian did not sing to sing, he did not write to write. Quite the contrary. His verses, from the first to the last, were always remembered emotion, shared emotion, something that exploded in his voice from a lived and vivid experience.

Eusebio Leal explained it this way:

“… Cuban as the royal palms, he never used his word to serve a cause other than social justice. For this reason, peasants and workers saw in the song of Jesús Orta Ruiz the most legitimate expression of their own feelings…The Naborí Indian searched -until he found- the traces of the first spilled blood…”.

What happens in practice? I say it without embellishments of any kind: the best of the poetry of the Naborí Indian, despite the passage of time, refuses to die. It is a poetic event that transcends the borders of exact times and reaches our days. Read and study thoroughly the titles that I now mention: Peninsular traveler, Intimate eviction, Through a smell, To my father, Elegy of the pencil, Elegy of the knife, My death will come, Work, Madrigal of the mist, Triumphal March of the Army Rebel, It was the morning of Santa Ana and Elegy of the white shoes, just to mention a few poems.

The subsequent significance of these verses is given precisely by the multiple vibration of the emotional perspective, never approached from maudlin or dramatic poetic approaches. Everything contrary. Here the verses flow naturally and dynamically, leaving in the air a spiritual resonance that at the same time is emphatic, because the heart of human beings is also emphatic: “…You are, then, an abstract child/ and you come when I invoke you / untouchable life that I touch / in an illusion of touch…”.

I also insist on the importance of language. This is where the misunderstanding of a certain poem can be. Does the above happen with the Nabori Indian? No, it does not happen at any time. See then this other finding: his poetry is first felt and then understood, leaving more than clear a wonderful verbal combination that can be summed up as follows: feel, move and understand. All this from combining themes, language, inner rhythm, materialization of the abstract, tones, stanzaic forms, emotional perspective, personified abstractions and the absence of derogatory metaphors. An essence that is even more sublimated when analyzed from the tenth, because these virtues can be felt both orally and in writing.

In summary, and this is an almost unanimous criterion, the Naborí Indian renewed the sung and written tenth, invigorated the elegy, granted an unusual range of perpetuity to social lyrics, energized free verse, pontificated the sonnet, revived the romance and left a very important mark on folk research, blending and elevating the cultured and the popular, the classic and the modern, to an aesthetic category. But to that poetic vocation we must add at all times his vocation as a Homeland, which for him was the same as saying Revolution.

Ángel Augier, in his essay Dos poetas de cubanidad raigal (referring to Nicolás Guillén and Jesús Orta Ruiz) analyzed the subject as follows:

“…Guillén and Naborí, from that popular origin of their rhythms and motifs, of their tunes and clamours, forged their Cuban, American and universal poetry, which encompasses the most diverse poetic resources and dissimilar features and themes, but which never abandons its nurturing roots of the Cuban national spirit. Both have achieved the difficult feat, already pointed out by some critic, of pleasing and even exciting, due to their poetic genius, at all levels of the cultural spectrum, from the most popular to the most elite, from the neighborhood to the salons, from the jubilant party to the severe and solemn atmosphere of the academies…”.

Today, Friday, September 30, the Naborí Indian would be one hundred years old. Until today, among other things because the date began to be celebrated in September 2021, more than one hundred events dedicated to the poet have been held in the country. It is truly impressive.

In practice what Angel Augier said is fulfilled: from the neighborhood to the halls, from the jubilant party to the severe and solemn atmosphere of the academies. I see it as a festival of national

In practice what Angel Augier said is fulfilled: from the neighborhood to the halls, from the jubilant party to the severe and solemn atmosphere of the academies. I see it as a festival of national culture, coordinated with exquisite sensitivity by the Ministry of Culture and the Cuban Book Institute, but in the same way it has served to remind other Cubans that from poetry they made the same Homeland: José María Heredia, Julián del Casal, Napoles Fajardo, José Martí, Agustín Acosta, Regino E. Boti, Eugenio Florit, Emilio Ballagas, Manuel Navarro Luna, Nicolás Guillén, Regino Pedroso, Félix Pita Rodríguez, Mirta Aquirre, Samuel Feijóo, José Lezama Lima, Eliseo Diego, Cintio Vitier, Fina García Marruz, Carilda Oliver Labra, Roberto Fernández Retamar and Fayad Jamís, among other great Cuban poets.

I would like to close these lines by quoting the Spanish professor Maximiano Trapero, who looking at him from a deep vantage point, and thinking above all of the youngest, has been able to visualize the transcendence of the Naborí Indian for the future:

“…For myself, every time I reread his work, the conviction grows that his poetry is of such height that it will be “classic”, it will last forever, because he managed to catch up with the great lyricists in the Spanish language… The name of the Naborí Indian will continue to resonate in legend, like a timeless Homer, made a myth, because in his person and in his work the two most enduring human and literary types of popular literature in the Spanish language since the Middle Ages were combined: the minstrel and the troubadour…The Naborí Indian is today the most genuine representative of oral poetry in the Hispanic world…”.

The same intimate poet who wrote the famous Peasant Prints, or The Escape of the Angel, or Deep Wedding, or Come in and forgive yourself, or A conscious part of the twilight, or With your eyes of mine, was also capable of being an extremely inspired singer of the Revolution. The validity of all his poetry allows us to reaffirm that we have celebrated, and will continue to celebrate, a centenary with a magnifying glass, given that the Naborí Indian is a poet that Cuba continues to need.

(By: Fidel Antonio Orta)

This valuable, important, transcendental book we present here today was compiled and edited with particular care by the Office of Historical Affairs of the Presidency of the Republic and is the first title of its publishing house, Ediciones Celia, named in honor of a figure central to our revolutionary process, in war and peace, a woman who did so much, especially for the preservation of its history.

We are presenting a very beautiful edition on the eve of the birthday of the author, Army General Raul Castro Ruz, a gift to Raul on this anniversary of his birth, and also, no doubt, a great gift to the Cuban people.

I must say that Revolución, la obra más hermosa (Revolution, the most beautiful work) was to include a prologue by our unforgettable Eusebio Leal, who had a very close friendship with Raúl, whom he called, as we all remember, “el General Presidente.” Eusebio was ill, and his ailments, growing progressively worse, did not allow him to introduce the book.

Conceived in two volumes, with top quality design and finish, and a meticulous and very useful index, this title is a compilation of speeches, remarks, interviews and statements delivered by the Army General between June 14, 2006 and May 1, 2019. With the exception of the first text, all others are dated after the “Proclamation of the Comandante en jefe to the Cuban people” on July 31, 2006, in which Fidel explained that for health reasons he was obliged to provisionally withdraw from his responsibilities leading the Party, the state and government, and delegate these to Raul. On February 18, 2008, the “Message from the Comandante en jefe” was published, in which he indicated that he was definitively retiring from all positions in order to continue the struggle as “a soldier of ideas.”

On February 24, 2008, the National Assembly elected Raúl as President of the Councils of State and Ministers; and later, in April of 2011, the Sixth Party Congress elected him as the organization’s First Secretary.

These pages cover more than a decade in which transcendental events for the nation took place, including the debate and approval of the Economic and Social Policy Guidelines of the Party and the Revolution; the freedom of the Cuban Five, finally all in the homeland, as promised by Fidel; the reestablishment of diplomatic relations with the United States, after talks in which Cuba made no concessions; the physical departure of the Comandante en jefe, his funeral tribute and the massive, painful, committed farewell of his people; and the broad popular debate and subsequent approval of the new Constitution in a national referendum.

At the same time, along with the enormous weight of the responsibilities he held, Raul faced very bitter moments on a personal level. Revisiting these moments and the national and international context in which the events in these pages took place, our admiration for Raúl grows, for his courage, for his integrity, his stature as a leader and as a human being.

This book reveals the uninterrupted thread that seamlessly unites the thinking of Fidel and Raúl: the absolute identification of the two brothers in terms of ideals, values, principles – the product of having shared, together, all the challenges and risks involved in confronting and defeating the Batista dictatorship and in the epic feat of making “a socialist Revolution under the very nose of the United States.”

The editors made a wise decision in opening the first volume of Revolución, la obra más hermosa, with the speech Raul delivered on the 45th anniversary of the Western Army’s founding. He explains in this speech how, after Bush launched the war on terrorism in 2003 and a very real danger of aggression emerged, the decision was made “to increase everything we can to strengthen defense” (Volume 1, page 2) and how, after the successful completion of Exercise Bastion 2004, it was possible to make “a significant, qualitative leap in the country’s defensive capacity.” (Volume 1, page 5)

Now, Raul added, the enemy ” focuses its blows on weakening us ideologically … with its sights set on the future, in a scenario considered more favorable to its objectives.” (V1, 8) And then he refers to the so-called “transition to capitalism” the Bush administration had designed for Cuba, “betting on the end of the Revolution when its historical leadership would no longer be present,” and that he Yankees know “that the special confidence conferred by the people on the founding leader of a Revolution is not transmitted, as if it were an inheritance, to those who will occupy the country’s principal leadership positions in the future.” (V1, 9)

This is why, Raúl said, “I repeat what I have stated on many occasions: there is only one Comandante en jefe of the Cuban Revolution, and only the Communist Party, as the institution that brings together the revolutionary vanguard, and serves as a sure guarantee of the unity of Cubans at all times, can be the worthy heir of the trust placed by the people in their leader. We are working for this and so it will be…” (V1, 9)

This theme is present, above all, throughout the first volume of the book, as related to the sinister, perverse plan of the Yankees to prevent “Castro’s succession.” The plan was based on waiting for what they cynically called the biological solution, that is, the physical disappearance of Fidel, to then apply one of several variants, including military intervention, to make the survival of the Revolution impossible.

Raul discussed these plans with journalist Lazaro Barredo and quotes several U.S. officials who refer to the matter. Raúl recounts that one of them openly stated that the U.S. does not accept the continuity of the Cuban Revolution, but “He did not say how they intend to avoid it.” Another individual insisted that the transition in Cuba – that is, the death of Fidel – could happen at any moment and they needed “to be prepared to act decisively and swiftly.” He went on to say that the U.S. wants to be sure that “the regime’s cronies do not take control,” adding, “They were working to make sure there would be no succession to Castro’s regime.” And Raul concludes: “In what way could these goals be achieved, other than military aggression? Thus, the country adopted the pertinent measures to counteract the very real danger.” (V1, 17)

But, as we all know, Fidel retired for health reasons, resigned from his positions and Raul took his place as the First Vice President of the Council of State and Ministers and Second Secretary of the Party Central Committee, and moreover given his extraordinary merits, his amply demonstrated ability, and because he had always been at Fidel’s side in all the battles, as undisputed second in command of the Revolution. The fact is that Raul led the country with a firm hand and took on new challenges, and the people reacted, as Raul himself says in several speeches included in these pages, with great confidence in the Revolution, with much confidence in himself.

The Yankees believed the theory that when the caudillo, as the reactionary press said, fell ill or disappeared, everything would collapse in Cuba. They invent stereotypes, caricatures and fables and end up believing them. Fidel was not a caudillo, of course, he was a guide, a visionary, a founder, with very deep roots, endearing roots, and he, along with Raul and other founders, with the Party, with the people, had created a revolutionary institutionality that was not going to just fall apart.

This was not included in the empire’s calculations. They had not foreseen that Fidel could retire and the country continue in complete normality, that Raul would assume his responsibilities and undertake a number of bold transformations to perfect our socialism, with the overwhelming support of the people, without the even slightest crack appearing in the unity of Cuban revolutionaries. This took the Yankee politicians by surprise, as well as their think tanks, their intelligence services, the prophets supposedly specialized in our country and its destiny. Just as it has taken them by surprise that Raúl left his positions years later in the hands of a much younger leader, compañero Díaz-Canel, and that the process, which Raúl has defined as “the gradual and orderly transfer to younger generations of the main responsibilities of the nation’s leadership” (V2, 88), was taking place.

And this has begun to occur in a very visible manner; the Central Committee has been rejuvenated, the Political Bureau and the Secretariat have been renovated, the Council of State and the Council of Ministers have been recharged, and in this country our people continue to trust in the leadership of the Revolution founded by the generation that did not let Marti die in the year of his centenary, which fortunately for all of us continues to accompany us.

Revolución, la obra más hermosa is a book that should become a must-read for every Cuban – and, for sure, will have many readers beyond our borders. It is full of passages that generate reflection, analysis, self-critical evaluation of our own conduct, that rudely place us face to face before the mistakes we revolutionaries can make, the distortions, the ineptness, the bureaucratic, superficial, routine, dogmatic attitudes. Other passages are very emotional, including those associated with the Comandante en jefe’s death: Raul’s moving speech on November 25, 2016 and his speeches during the tributes in the Plaza de la Revolución, on November 29, and in Santiago, on December 3.

Others serve as true lessons on the principles that define the international projection of the Cuban Revolution, thanks to Raúl’s speeches at meetings of the Non-Aligned Movement, ALBA-TCP, CELAC, Cuba-CARICOM, Petrocaribe, the Summit of the Americas in Panama, the talks between the Colombian government and the leadership of the FARC-EP, at various United Nations events, in Rio de Janeiro, in Moscow, in Johannesburg, in Luanda, in Brasilia. And I could go on mentioning many other forums of a similar nature in which Raúl participated during the period addressed in the book.

Reading these speeches in a single sitting, one cannot help but feel proud to have been born on this Caribbean island, geographically small but immense in moral and solidary stature, and to have known this brother of Fidel’s, in blood and ideas, so modest (as his own name indicates), and at the same time so admirable.

Revolución, la obra más hermosa allows us to understand better Raul as a statesman, as a defender of the poor of the earth, of abandoned children, of immigrants cornered by racism and neo-fascism, of the illiterate, of the unemployed, as a defender of peace, of multilateralism, of a new international economic order, of the right of every people to choose the political system it deems convenient, of non-interference in the internal affairs of other states, of an integral and comprehensive conception of human rights, of the founding principles of the United Nations, which have been impudently violated by U.S. imperialism and its allies.

In all the forums he attends, Raul introduces the subject of peace and the solution of conflicts by peaceful means. He constantly refers to the absurd and dangerous growth of the arms industry, with funds that could be used for development and the fight against climate change. Let us recall that one of the projects to which Raul devoted most time and effort was his patient and laborious promotion of CELAC, an organization of nations inspired by the dreams of Bolivar and Marti, which brings together Our America and the Caribbean without the presence of old or new metropolises. In addition, CELAC approved, as we know, the historic Proclamation of Latin America and the Caribbean as a Zone of Peace.

Clearly, Raul’s pacifist vocation does not contradict the priority he has given internally to the doctrine of the entire People’s War. For him, our permanent, unceasing, conscious preparation for defense is the only way to preserve peace.

In the course of Raul’s international activity, we can observe his ability to address delicate and complex issues, and to build closer relations and consensus among representatives of very different governments, always on the basis of ethics and principles. One of his most recognized and visible efforts has been to bring the countries of the South together, to bring them closer, regardless of cultural, political, religious differences, of all kinds, and to articulate their forces.

In these forums, Raul often insisted that unity can be achieved within diversity, that it is possible, that we must concentrate on the issues we have in common, on which we agree, and put aside the issues we understand differently and not turn them into obstacles. Thanks to unity, we will be heard and we will have the opportunity to achieve victories in this self-centered world controlled by the interests of the rich elites. “We are one hundred and twenty Non-Aligned States…. Our enormous strength cannot be underestimated when we act as one,” he said in September 2016 at the XVII Summit of the Non-Aligned Movement.

The peoples of the South have had in Raúl a passionate and lucid spokesman. A loyal spokesman, who at all times calls for a more just and better world, freed from the vestiges of colonialism and the geopolitics of plunder; a world based on collaboration and not on a deceitful, unequal competition, with support and transference of technology from the developed North to the underdeveloped South, in which we work together to reduce the abysmal gaps in all arenas. Raul is also an advocate of the potential of South-South cooperation.

With respect to the environment, Raul maintains a position of persistently warning and denouncing transnational corporations and industrialized countries, the planet’s principal predators. He criticizes the inadequate political will of great powers and the lack of concrete commitments in events addressing an issue that cannot be postponed. At the same time, Raul draws attention to the devastating effects of climate change on small island states and calls for a differentiated approach in their case.

At the domestic level, Raúl has been a driving force behind Task Vida, “the Cuban state’s plan to confront climate change… a matter of special strategic significance for the present and especially the future of our country, given our condition as an island, in which the participation of our national scientific and technological forces has been key.” (V2, 400)

Returning to the international dimensions of his work, we must remember that Raul always has words of encouragement and friendship for the long-suffering Haitian people. He continually recalls the debt the West owes this nation, and how Cuba has never and will never abandon Haiti. He harshly condemns the “charity” in quotation marks, the theatrical “charity” designed for television cameras offered by some powerful countries. Likewise, he devotes words of solidarity to the African continent, the Palestinian people, the Saharawi people, to Puerto Rico, to the just causes the hegemonic press never covers truthfully.

It should be noted that during Obama’s term in office and his policy changes with respect to Cuba (while his offensive against Venezuela was intensifying), the voice of our country, and in particular the voice of Raul, was raised on all tribunes to express our solidarity with the homeland of Bolivar and Chavez, and with all the victims of interference and dirty tricks on the part of the United States and its allies.

At the General Assembly, celebrating the 70th anniversary of the UN, in September 2015, Raul concluded his speech with these words:

“The international community will always be able to count on the sincere voice of Cuba in the face of injustice, inequality, underdevelopment, discrimination and manipulation and for the establishment of a more just and equitable international order, in which human beings, their dignity and well-being are truly central.” (V2, 251)

Revolución, la obra más hermosa allows us to identify the primordial core of Raúl’s thought and action, both in his international work, as we have already seen, and in what constitutes the raison d’être of our Party, the methods and styles of work that should characterize a Cuban leader of today and the future, in the Party, the government, in mass organizations; his constant, astute, critical evaluation of revolutionary work; his very broad, very complete, very deep and coherent vision of the challenges we face, his optimism in the face of any contingency and confidence in victory.

This book illustrates, with many examples, his stature as an exceptional leader, who defends this “Revolution of the humble, by the humble and for the humble” from the overt or covert aggressions of the empire and its mercenaries, and tirelessly defends it, as well, with action and sharp words, from all obstacles, in particular from those leaders and officials with “obsolete mentalities,” from the self-satisfied, sectarian, corrupt and crooked, to those who are insensitive to the needs and demands of the population.

Also of significant conceptual and practical utility are Raul’s views on cadre policy and the qualities that should characterize our leaders, as well as the attributes that can disqualify a person. He establishes as a rule that cadres must have worked at the grassroots level and exercised the profession they studied, before assuming a leadership responsibility. He emphasizes that, although we have made progress, female, black and mixed race cadres are still promoted only in a limited fashion. He insists that this is an issue of utmost importance, which should not be left to spontaneity.

His way of speaking to the Cuban people, transparent, direct, frank, adhering strictly to the truth, in its essence far removed from any trace of demagogy, is clearly evident in this book. This type of communication between Raúl and the people is accompanied by his repeated calls for open, penetrating debate:

“All the information and arguments on which every decision is based,” he says, “must be put on the table and, in this way, stem the excess of secrecy to which we have become accustomed over more than fifty years of the enemy’s siege… Explaining, substantiating and convincing the people of the rightness, necessity and urgency of a measure, however hard it may seem, is vitally important… The Party and the UJC (Young Communists League), in addition to the CTC (Federation of Cuban Workers) and its unions, mass and social organizations, have the capacity to mobilize the support and confidence of the population through debate, not bound by dogmas or impractical frameworks, that constitute colossal barriers and absolutely must be eliminated little by little, and we will achieve this with the efforts of all.” (V1, 418-419)

He has said before that we should not be afraid of disagreement, which “will always be more desirable than fake unanimity based on simulation and opportunism.” (V1, 417)

He warns, with much realism, that “…as the implementation of the new model advances, a different scenario will be created for the party organization, characterized by increased heterogeneity among sectors and groups in our society, emerging from the differentiation of incomes. All this imposes the challenge of preserving and strengthening national unity in circumstances unlike those we became accustomed to in previous stages.” (V2, 307)

Bearing in mind this essential mission, he emphasizes, “In the Party ‘giving orders’ must definitely end; its strength is moral, not official, that is why leading the Party requires morals and the ability to convey this spirit to the mass of members.” (V2, 13)

Raul very frequently reflects in these pages what should characterize leaders at all levels. He reiterates that they must permanently have their ears to the ground, listening to the people, attentive to their opinions. He rejects defensive, deceptive positions and anything intended to avoid the analysis of the real problems: “prepared,” “decorated,” “scripted,” visits to provinces and municipalities by the national leadership; accountability reports to the National Assembly, with “arranged” praise; any fake, feigned misrepresentation, which leads us away from directly confronting mistakes and errors. He conducts a penetrating, rational assessment to expose work systems and nonsensical habits that have taken root in different sectors, and emphasizes the waste of resources they imply.

He speaks with great emphasis of the need to consolidate every step we take in updating the country’s model. Distortions and deviations must be detected, in order to rectify them immediately, in time, and never allow these distortions to become widely accepted, because, as he points out, rectifying them later becomes a political problem.

One of Raúl’s fundamental concerns is eliminating improvisation and establishing as the norm Martí’s concept that: “To govern is to foresee.” He pointed out during his Central Report to the Seventh Party Congress: “The issue is to have a method, a path, a project to make sure that things never surprise us and progress fluidly.” (V2, 316)

Another of his concerns is linked to the strengthening of our institutional framework, from all points of view, legal, ideological, moral, in terms of efficiency and service to the people, in terms of legitimacy. Toward this end, it is essential to check and systematically follow up on the agreements emanating from Party Congresses, Central Committee Plenary Sessions, the National Assembly of People’s Power, different political and governmental bodies. This is why he so harshly criticizes the tendency to shelve agreements and documents, or simply forget about them.

Apathy, paralysis and insensitivity are capital sins in these times. For Raúl, “The worse thing there can exist, the worse that a revolutionary or any plain, honest person, communist or not, can do is to stand idly by in the face of a problem.” (V2, 297)

Similarly, he criticizes improvisation and the use of “campaigns,” replete with loud, fleeting agitation, that are absolutely ineffective in completing critical tasks and ensuring follow-up.

He is particularly concerned about being rushed and the errors that result from hasty decisions: “The pace and depth of the changes we must introduce in our model must be conditioned by our ability to get things right and to rectify any deviations in a timely fashion. This will only be possible if adequate prior preparation is guaranteed – which we have not done – with training and understanding of regulations established at every level and the accompaniment and conduction of processes, aspects in which there has been a good dose of superficiality, an excess of enthusiasm and desire to advance more quickly than what we are really capable of.” (V2, 403-404)

Raul reminds us time and again of Fidel’s warnings in the University of Havana’s Aula Magna, November 17, 2005, about the urgency of eliminating corruption to save the Revolution, and goes further in describing the regression in our country of “moral and civic values, such as honesty, decency, morality, decorum, honor and sensitivity to the problems of others.” (V2, 71)

Raúl identifies two practices that would go a long way in preventing us from making mistakes when developing strategies: In the first place, rigorous, open discussion, “in the various collegiate bodies at our disposal, in the Party, the state and the government, to ensure that important decisions are always the result of collective analysis, which does not exclude honest disagreements or different opinions;” (V2, 333) and second, consultation with the people.

“The Party is obliged,” he tells us, “to constantly strengthen and perfect our democracy… It is our duty to promote and guarantee ever greater participation by the citizenry in the fundamental decisions of society. We have no fear whatsoever of differing opinions or disagreement, since only frank and honest discussion of differences among revolutionaries will lead us to the best decisions.” (V2, 311)

Raul insists that anything that separates us from what is essential, from core truths – be it mediocrity or a defensive, bureaucratic spirit – damages the Revolution, diverts us, creates a shadowy atmosphere where it is difficult to recognize mistakes and rectify them. That is why he summoned the entire Council of Ministers to see the play “Abracadabra” by the Colmenita theater company and to participate, guided by the child actors, in the search for the essence of things – and he refers to this many times.

If we do not get to the truth, to the essence of things, an inspection visit to this or that entity, or province or municipality, makes no sense. Rather, it diverts us from our objectives. We remain trapped in a tangle of lies and half-truths. “We must fight to definitively banish lies and deceit from the conduct of cadres at all levels,” Raúl emphasizes and reminds us of Fidel’s concept of Revolution: “Never lie or violate ethical principles.” (V1, 416)

It is possible, according to Raúl, to lie because of sheer negligence, like compañeros who, “without fraudulent intent, provide inaccurate information reported by their subordinates without having checked it and fall into a lie unconsciously.”

The problem, Raul says, is that “this false data can lead us to erroneous decisions with greater or less serious consequences for the nation.”

“Whoever acts in this way is also lying,” he continues, “and whoever the person is should be demoted from the position held, and not temporarily… and also removed from the ranks of the Party if he or she is a member.” (V1, 415-416

Such tendencies, that reveal superficiality, lack of seriousness and ethical weaknesses, can contaminate even vital tasks like ideological work. Raul leaves us, in these pages, an insightful assessment of the challenges we face in this field and the antidotes to which we must turn, with a comprehensive perspective:

“While we safeguard in the people the historical memory of the nation and perfect differentiated ideological work, with special emphasis on youth and children, at the same time, amongst ourselves, we must strengthen anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist culture, combatting, with arguments, conviction and determination, any pretension to establish patterns of petty-bourgeois ideology characterized by individualism, self-interest, a thirst for profit, banality and the exacerbation of consumerism. // The best antidote against policies of subversion consists of working with integrity and without improvisation; doing things well; improving the quality of services available to the population; not letting problems accumulate; reinforcing knowledge of Cuban history, national identity and culture; upholding pride in being Cuban and promoting within the country an atmosphere of legality, defense of the public patrimony and respect for the dignity of persons, values and social discipline.” (V2, 313)

These two volumes contain an important set of ideas of conceptual depth, moral foundations and projection in practical terms that offer us a guide of palpable relevance for today and the future. Here we find a wealth of lessons for all revolutionaries and in particular for leaders, young and not so young. With Revolución, la obra más hermosa, Ediciones Celia has made an immeasurable contribution to the preparation of our people for present and future battles.

The penultimate text included in Revolución, la obra más hermosa is Raul’s speech before the National Assembly, on the occasion of the proclamation of the Constitution of the Republic (Let us remember that Raul chaired the Commission created by the Assembly to draft the preliminary text and subsequently introduce the many valuable modifications that emerged from the popular consultation, before the referendum.) The speech is dated April 10, 2019.

“The tone of the U.S. government attacking Cuba is increasingly threatening,” Raúl notes, “while a series of steps are taken to aggravate bilateral relations // Cuba is blamed for all evils, lies are used in the style of Nazi propaganda. We will never abandon our duty to act in solidarity with Venezuela. We will not renounce any of our principles and we will vigorously reject all forms of coercion // We have made it known to the U.S. administration, with the utmost clarity, firmness and serenity… that Cuba is not afraid of threats and that our vocation for peace and understanding is accompanied by our unwavering determination to defend the sovereign right of Cubans to decide the future of the nation, without foreign interference.”(T2, 523)

He ended his speech that day with these words:

Over 60 years, facing aggression and threats, Cubans have shown the iron will to resist and overcome the most difficult circumstances. Despite its immense power, imperialism does not possess the capacity to break the dignity of a united people, proud of its history and of the freedom conquered with so much sacrifice. Cuba has already shown that, yes, we could, yes, we can, and will always be able to resist, fight, and emerge victorious. There is no other alternative (V2, 525)

With this call to combat, before an empire in its most aggressive and fascist version, the second volume of Revolución, la obra más hermosa, concludes. Although we were aware of many of these speeches, reading them compiled here, in chronological order, is an incomparable, enriching and very intense experience. No revolutionary Cuban, no worthy Cuban, should forego living this experience and drawing nourishment from it.

I end by thanking compañeros Alvariño and Suárez, compañera Belkys Duménigo and the entire team at Ediciones Celia, for this book so full of ideas and revolutionary spirit. A book that allows us to approach Raul’s personality, his thought, his consistency, his wisdom, in a novel and moving manner.

Thank you, dear Raul, for so many lessons. Best wishes for (your birthday) tomorrow.

The event, officially backed by the government, was inaugurated by the city’s mayor, Antonio Beruff Mendieta, and closed by the Ministry of Education’s director of Culture, Dr. José María Chacón y Calvo. In spite of its ambitions, the project did not capture much attention in the media, drawing a disappointing number of visitors. It was a time to accept subjugation, not to read.

Books were a privilege for those born with financial resources; on the other hand, illiteracy was rampant throughout the country. Most Cubans could not even dream of discovering in the pages of literary works any light hidden from the poor. With the triumph of the Revolution and the elimination of chronic illiteracy, along with the creation of the National Publishing House on March 31, 1959, under the wise direction of Alejo Carpentier, books finally reached even the most remote corners of the nation.

Sixty-two years later, the Cuban Book Institute has called for celebrations today and evaluations of everything that has been done and what remains to be done in terms of publication and promotion of books in Cuba.

The path, which began with a mass run of a million copies of Don Quixote, can be seen today, with legitimate pride, in the thousands of titles and authors which fill the collections of Cuban publishing houses, because in Cuba reading is a feast for our minds and an irrevocable right of the entire population, especially children and youth.

(Taken from Granma)

The call was made at a meeting to follow up on the agreements reached at the 9th Congress of the Union of Writers and Artists of Cuba (UNEAC).

Diaz-Canel urged to read more and write better to create better citizens, the official website of the Presidency of the Republic and national television reported on Monday.

The president noted that a new form of life and thinking is being built around literature.

The head of State expressed interest in state of libraries and bookstores, and called to promote sales and loans of books at home.

(Prensa Latina)

According to the BNC, this edition deserved the praise of the Codalario magazine , one of the most prestigious in the field of Spanish music criticism, initialed by the specialist Albert Ferrer, who valued the relevance of the work.

Apart from biographical and personal experiences, in the book Alicia Alonso is firm in the defense of the value of culture as a bulwark for the artist, the knowledge of tradition, the ethical and aesthetic commitment to ballet, Ferrer stressed.

In Dialogue with Dance, the founder of BNC presents ballet as a national expression of peoples in their idiosyncrasy, as a manifestation of universal character due to physical potential, and expression of art linked to the subject, the BNC press release refers.

With its publication, the author denounced discriminatory attitudes and racial and cultural prejudices that marked her time before which she did not bow, while pointing out the difference between school and ballet style.

The book of the most universal dancer in Cuba, which is on sale in the main bookstores in Spain, is an editorial event and has aroused the interest of professionals in the performing arts.

(With information from Prensa Latina)

At this very moment, young readers in Spain are the first the leaf through the pages of a poetry anthology prepared, on the occasion of Benedetti’s centenary, by Joan Manuel Serrat. The singer-songwriter introduces the book with words that merit quoting, “It is not easy to select the most representative from Benedetti’s extensive body of work, but I am confident that this anthology contains all the Benedetti that Mario carried in his backpack,

the common office worker, the middle class Montevidean, the committed journalist, the curious traveler, the militant of the domestic homeland, the exile, the returned exile and also the political activist, and of course the meticulous, hard-working poet, that he always was…”

The common denominator of his multiple trades is a word the Catalonian emphasized: commitment. To which I would add: consistency. Here, we can say that Mario never faded. Not in the good times or the bad. A fact well known by those of us who had him as one of our own, during his years at the Casa de las Américas. His co-workers at the institution remember him and hold valuable memories of his closeness to its founder Haydée Santamaría, his contributions to literary investigations, and later to the shaping of young writers in the early 1970s, many who testify to the effect and thank him, like Víctor Rodríguez Núñez, Alex Fleites, Norberto Codina, Abilio Estévez, Jesús Barquet, and many others who attended the Roque Dalton literary workshop, on University Hill.

He was a simple man, generous, cordial, immersed in the vicissitudes of the Revolution, always under attack but resilient, and at the same time the poet and militant who internally suffered the horrors of the dictatorship, installed at that time in Uruguay, a condition he revealed in one of his texts from the Cotidiana series: “From the eighth floor of my third exile, I see the excessive sea they lend me… I think of the terrible sweetness and solidarity of this people that knows how to hold its allies close, asking for nothing in return… while blind deaf mute (their enemies) strike heads, plains and headlines, balls and wombs, that is attempting to destroy the future in every sprout.”

When Fidel reached his 80th birthday, Benedetti sent a message of congratulations and recognition to our leader, in whom he appreciated, “the simplicity of his proposals… the frankness he insists on despite our objections, and his unwavering will to defend and improve the lot of his people.”

He affirmed, “I have spent several periods in Cuba: the first time as a guest and later, many other times as an exile. Since it exploded onto the scene, the Cuban Revolution has given Our America a good dusting. In Río de la Plata, cultural sectors had turned primarily to Europe, but the Revolution made us look to Latin America. Not only to delve into the problems of the sub-continent, but also to attenuate the power and pressure of the United States.”

How did the writer understand commitment? Creation, civic duty and revolutionary passion. He believed in the emancipation of his homeland, that began with Uruguay and was extended to other lands of the continent and other peoples of the world.

In 1987, he published a collection of reflections in El escritor latinoamericano y la revolución posible (The Latin American writer and the possible revolution), presenting ideas we can return to time and time again, given their continued relevance. Remaining intact is his call to assume a commitment that “must not be a mental cyst, but rather an ability under development, a kind of vitality, that listens, understands, and interprets the present contemporary reality, not comfortably installed in a pure state, basically verbal, which dictates norms,

formulates demands, judges conduct, and mandates how revolutions should happen and in what direction they should move.” An exercise in humility and participative vocation that we must always keep in mind.

As we should also remember another lesson he left us, in a letter sent to the critic Ángel Rama from Havana, in which he addresses the impact of the Revolution on human beings, “For the individual, it is frightening entertainment that keeps you on the alert, even against your wishes, and in the background is training you to make quick decisions, for deep changes, for original proposals. You cannot avoid the temperamental oscillation between feeling pessimistic and optimistic, though every time you return to the latter, you feel more at home.”

(Source: Granma)

A few days ago, I went out for a walk and someone said to me, “Wow, that was a really good article you published. Everybody liked it.” Halfway down the block, another person grabbed my sleeve to say, “That article you published was really bad. Everyone is criticizing it.” After a few minutes of consternation, I remembered one of Nietzsche’s maxims, “The world is much smaller than the world of imagination.”

Of course, we are not objects, but rather subjects; that is why we are more subjective than objective. I am being ironic, but if you pick up a cylinder and place it in front of a light, you will see a circular shadow from one angle, and a rectangle from another. Such skepticism may provoke a kind of “expressive anorexia.” But certain internal projections allow us to see our opinion as good and fat, while it may only be a few bones, and no one can convince us otherwise, even resorting to the axioms of mathematics (kilograms per centimeters of height).

But human beings are also thoughtful. Perhaps that is why we have invented so many philosophies, societies, clubs, congregations, castes, communities and religions. For some reason, a flat truth spoken by many becomes round.

Naturally, if a single newspaper or media outlet gives an opinion, not everyone accepts it. But if the same opinion appears in several – even if they are all owned by the same person, or someone else who is actually a clone – for many, what is said becomes a truth. This is why “media conglomerates” are created.

I have a Google alert for Cuba. For every news item with the word Cuba in its title, Google emails me a brief summary. This way, I see how certain “currents of opinion” function, often promoting campaigns intended to demonize persons or institutions. Opinions that appear to come from various sources, using different words, give the impression that the world has reached consensus on the issue. Nonetheless, when you begin to unravel the tangle, you can make some interesting discoveries.

Let me provide one example. The Spanish corporate group Prisa, a champion in the orchestration of worldwide media campaigns, owns more than 1,250 radio stations in 22 countries, each one with its own website. As if this were not enough, it owns – in their entirety or as a principal stockholder – publications read around the world like El País, As, Cinco días, The Huffington Post, and MeriStation; educational publishing houses like Santillana and Alfaguara; and important television broadcasters like Mediaset, Telecinco and Cuatro in Spain; TVI in Portugal and V-ME in the United States. When the chief executive of Prisa expresses a personal opinion, it appears to be held by the entire world.

One of these “currents of opinion” asserts that I am not an independent intellectual, because I live here in Cuba, nor, as a consequence, do I have freedom of expression. I could argue that they say this because they would like to see me repeat their half-truths instead of my own. What a paradox! Flouting a freedom with the intention of enslaving my thinking.

I could also say that nothing infringes more on my freedom of expression than a global campaign to present as fact that, simply because I live here, I do not have this right. Perhaps herein lies the real purpose: asserting, via intimidation and slander, that no dissenting opinion coming from Cuba has any credibility.

Nonetheless, I have my very own opinion about what constitutes intellectual independence. This is why I assert that I do not have it. Note the paradox! Let me emphasize what I have said. I am not an independent intellectual. Not because someone has bribed me or whispers in my ear what I must say, but because my opinion is based on an ideology, on historic memory, a culture, certain moral principles and what I understand as ethical.

I cannot comprehend a fact without considering the context, the social foundation, or the dialectical processes that produced it. This would be inconsistent. I cannot reduce to one adjective or one topic anything that is diverse and complex within the human condition. This objectifies people.

I cannot presume that my point of view should be assumed by all, since it is only one note within the dynamic of consensus.

But my opinion is also based on an aesthetic, and thus in some way, it is free (or perhaps I should say libertine.) If what is important is fighting, not conversing, the job is easy. It is no accident that homo sapiens traveled a long distance between grunting and words. As soon as they invented pottery, human beings began to etch drawings on their earthenware. What good are designs on a pot, if they contribute nothing to better protecting the food? Perhaps the most important evolutionary leap made by our species was developing a sense of beauty.

But form is not the only dictate. In this Flaubertian effort, I also attempt to free myself from stereotypes, rhetorical vanity, platitudes, stock phrases, common places and poor imagination. I don’t digress or resort to verbal juggling acts to

avoid the complexity of a phenomenon. On the contrary, I take on another equally controversial. I am absolutely convinced that one can always express the most polemic opinion. Although finding the words is an arduous task when the reader is considered, when one has some self-respect.

(Source: Granma)

Figures from around the world mourn the poet’s farewell at 89 years of age. Setting aside the grief, they speak of gratitude and of his abiding presence. “Dear Roberto, thank you for leaving us your work, your lucidity, and commitment,” wrote Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez on his Twitter account.

“We are left with his ideas that inspire the path of free peoples who will keep his legacy of resistance alive,” said Evo Morales, president of Bolivia.

U.S. writer Margaret Randall commented: “Over the years, Retamar was always a beacon for us, a political and cultural reference, and a friend. We mourn his death and celebrate his life.”

“Retamar leaves us as a legacy his example of a self-sacrificing revolutionary, a sensitive poet, a dialogical intellectual, a man dedicated to humanity’s most noble causes. To his family and to my family at the Casa de las Américas, a fraternal embrace of resurrection,” wrote the Brazilian intellectual Frei Betto.

Ernest Pépin, the Guadeloupean writer, said that he will remember Retamar as a man who served a revolution that has always stayed the course.

With words from César Vallejo, Peruvian poet Hildebrando Pérez Grande insisted: “His cadaver is full of the world.”

Spanish writer Selena Millares is convinced his words will always be with us: “Something no one will ever be able to erase.”

Dominican poet Chiqui Vicioso remembered him as “a reaffirmation of our utopias;” and Venezuelan writer Freddy Ñañez summed up: “The words left by our host, our father Calibán, are arrows stopped in time that continue to extend his life with the possibilities left intact in poetry and pure ethical presence… there will be a future to follow in the footsteps of the great Roberto Fernández Retamar.”

(Granma)