Books

Poetic vigour

This selection, made by the translator, covers over 50 years of Pere Gimferrer’s varied, lyrical, avant-garde poetry. The very young Gimferrer was a fresh voice in the 1960s, part of Catalonia’s cultural resurgence, setting fire to the straitjacket of the dictatorship with verbal fireworks

Gim­fer­rer’s was a post-war gen­er­a­tion and he was able to free him­self of the oblig­a­tion felt by the ’so­cial poets’ of the 1950s to tackle the mis­eries of the dic­ta­tor­ship. This does not mean that Gim­fer­rer ig­nored the dic­ta­tor­ship in his work. What it does mean is that he did not feel forced by the dic­ta­tor­ship’s very ex­is­tence to write against it. In this se­lec­tion, Tròpic de Càncer and Tròpic de Capri­corn are lengthy ru­mi­na­tions on the re­cent past. By look­ing crit­i­cally at his Catholic child­hood, he was at­tack­ing im­plic­itly the dic­ta­tor­ship, which al­lowed no crit­i­cism. His po­etry con­nects to the Span­ish mod­ernist poets of the Gen­er­a­tion of 1927, who were killed, ex­iled and dis­persed by Franco. And he is alive to the in­ter­na­tional sur­re­al­ist and sym­bol­ist tra­di­tions of Cata­lan poets like Foix be­fore the Civil War. In both Span­ish and Cata­lan po­etry, Gim­fer­rer was re-con­nect­ing to pre-Civil War styles and tra­di­tions.

No Ivory Tower

Gim­fer­rer’s per­son­al­ity and ab­solute com­mit­ment to po­etry have made him the sub­ject of nu­mer­ous anec­dotes. Nate West, the poet’s trans­la­tor to Eng­lish, men­tions the story that he does not know how to peel an apple (why any­one should wish to peel an apple is an­other ques­tion). The rea­son for his ex­treme im­prac­ti­cal­ity was:

…that Pere had de­cided from an early age, in view of the un­cer­tainty of life and the in­evitabil­ity of death, that there wasn’t time for every­thing, that what he re­ally loved was lit­er­a­ture, and hence that he would live in such a way that he was forced to de­vote as lit­tle time as pos­si­ble to other mat­ters.

The image of a high-minded poet se­cluded in the ivory tower of beau­ti­ful lan­guage is false. He could hardly have writ­ten the long poem Mas­carada (1996) on love and sex in Paris if he had re­mained in his tower. His poems have crit­i­cised Fe­lipe González and talked of Che Gue­vara, Jean Har­low or George Soros. Gim­fer­rer is an eru­dite lletraferit (lover of let­ters); and he is im­mersed in mass cul­ture.

One should add that Gim­fer­rer him­self cul­ti­vates the pure-poet image, with his long over­coat, thick black glasses to match a wide black hat and white scarf. Though I knew noth­ing of his writ­ing, I knew the pub­lic per­sona. But who knows? Some­one so con­cerned to pro­ject an image may well be en­gaged in a (play­ful or se­ri­ous) bit of mis­di­rec­tion. Masks and mir­rors are com­mon im­ages in his work.

As well as po­lit­i­cal com­plaints, in­evitably there are lin­guis­tic ques­tions asked of Gim­fer­rer. He started off pub­lish­ing in Castil­ian. Arde el mar (The Sea Aflame) won Spain’s Na­tional Po­etry Prize when he was only 20. He switched to Cata­lan in 1970 with Els mi­ralls (Mir­rors), then early this cen­tury he pub­lished poems in Castil­ian again. He side­steps the po­lit­i­cal im­pli­ca­tions of these changes. Poems, he avers, occur to him in one lan­guage or an­other. “Ital­ian is also one of my lan­guages,” he said with provoca­tive in­sou­ciance when in 2014 he pub­lished Per ris­gardo (With Re­gard), his poems in Ital­ian. This col­lec­tion con­tains poems in all three lan­guages - on the left-hand page, with the Eng­lish trans­la­tion on the right - and from every stage of his ca­reer.

Cryp­tic in­scrip­tions

The book after Arde el mar was the long (28 pages here) Death in Bev­erly Hills (1968), a poem tak­ing for­mal lib­er­ties, with­out rhyme and with dif­fer­ent lengths of line. Here’s an ex­am­ple:

In the phone booths

are cryp­tic in­scrip­tions writ­ten in lip­stick.

They are the last words of the sweet blondes

with blood in their cleav­age, tak­ing refuge there to die.

Last night be­neath the pale neon, last day be­neath the daz­zling sun,

streets re­cently sprayed with mag­no­lia, yel­low head­lights of pa­trol cars at dawn. (p.51)

Note the sur­real im­ages, the lus­cious, lyri­cal lan­guage, the pow­er­ful pic­tures from pop­u­lar cul­ture. Mean­ing is ’cryp­tic’, though, like the words writ­ten in lip­stick. This is to say that it is often not easy to un­der­stand what Gim­fer­rer is talk­ing about. He packs his poems with lit­er­ary and film al­lu­sions and a lot of rare words (Nate West said he was dri­ven often to the dic­tio­nary, but many were not even there), but the main rea­son is that this po­etry does not aim to pre­sent ra­tio­nal ar­gu­ment. Gim­fer­rer him­self said:

My as­pi­ra­tion is not in the least that the reader un­der­stand every­thing… , but only that the re­sult of it prove stim­u­lat­ing.

Nate West added that Gim­fer­rer is quite ap­prov­ing of loose trans­la­tions, but what he val­ues above all is that West main­tains in Eng­lish the orig­i­nal’s ’po­etic vigour’. We are in the realm of po­etry not logic. What stim­u­lates, and gives plea­sure, is rhythm, sound, al­lu­sion and as­so­ci­a­tions. His lan­guage flows, the words flash and sparkle. De­spite the poet’s image as an aes­thete, there is no lan­guor in the po­etry.

In this final para­graph, let me wind the ar­ti­cle back a bit. Gim­fer­rer’s not just about im­ages and lan­guage. Of course there are ideas, too. He said that Death in Bev­erly Hills is “my sad­dest book, in that its theme is nos­tal­gia and the de­fence­less need for love”. In the poem, set in the cap­i­tal of dreams, the young man dis­cov­ers that life is not eter­nal, but leads to death. He seeks to re­cover the lost mo­ments of love. I picked up this book in ig­no­rance of Gim­fer­rer, but put it down want­ing to read more.

I found very use­ful, and rec­om­mend for any reader as ig­no­rant of Gim­fer­rer as I was, the pre­sen­ta­tion of this se­lec­tion at the Com­mu­nity Book­store, Brook­lyn, on May 25, 2021. You will find it on-line at www.​youtube.​com/​watch?​v=HzRiv5M-​H6E

book re­view

Pere Gimferrer Author: Pere Gimferrer Translation & Introduction: Adrian Nathan West Pages: 141 Publisher: New York Review Books “Gimferrer lives in and for poetry…. His virtuosity shows he is capable of self-renewal and change without repudiating himself. Few authors are capable of such breadth and depth.” Juan Goytisolo

Gimferrer knows everything

Pere Gimferrer i Torrens (born 1945) is Catalonia’s best-known living poet, author of over 30 books. Nearly all are poetry, but one is Fortuny, a novel on the three famous generations of the Fortuny family. The youngest, the dress designer Fortuny i Madrazo, was subject of last month’s book review in these pages.

In 1970 Gimferrer was included in Josep Maria Castellet’s famous anthology of young poets reacting against the social poetry fashionable in the 1950s, Nueve novísimos poetas españoles (Nine very new Spanish Poets).

He was elected to Spain’s Royal Academy in 1985 and was awarded the National Literature Prize for a lifetime’s work in 1998. He won the National Poetry Prize for a second time in 1988 for El vendaval (The Gale). As well as all the poetry and the novel, he has published books of his articles, mainly of literary criticism.

He spent most of his working life at the publisher Seix Barral, where he promoted, among many others, the then unknown Roberto Bolaño, whose view of his omnivorous and obsessive editor was: “Gimferrer is a great poet and also knows everything.”

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