© Peluquería

Cover photograph:

“Tres colonias” Barbershop. Tehuantepec st., between Monterrey

y Medellín, Col. Roma, Mexico City.

Georgina Mexía-Amador, 2011.

©Micolo’s Barbershop is a three monthly nonprofit on-line publication. Authors are responsible for the texts they sign. Editors do not necessarily share the points of view of the authors. No. register 04-2011-082211030200-203 (Mexico, 2011).

Direction, edition and design

Georgina Mexía-Amador

Translators

Georgina Mexía-Amador

Fabiola Mercado

Nayelli Pérez

Editorial committee

César Abril

Jan Markus Amundsen

Contributors

Carlos Ascencio

Walter Keller-Kirchhoff

Marisol Vázquez

Photo: Transit signal in Insurgentes Av., Mexico City. ©Georgina Mexía-Amador.

5 Preliminary words

6 Installing in the Genealogies. Predecessors and Contemporaries: El Renacimiento •Georgina Mexía-Amador

11 Travels and Literature: NEPAL •Walter Keller-Kirchhof and Alexandra David-Neel

37 THEATER 24/6: A Jewish Theater Company’s A Doll House •Yoni Oppenheim

40 The Tale of Heike. A War Tale of Samurai Japan •Carla del Real

44 Texts in Mazahua: “Töjö/Song” and “Un t’ii ñeje ne dyáá/The Boy and the Mountain” •Lizeth Rodríguez

48 MUSIC International Music Fair, Guadalajara, Mexico, 2011 •Carlos Ascencio

52 The Graveyard of Pomuch, Campeche •Jesús Morago

59 in gestation: “The Geraniums’ Little Grave” •Guadalupe Vera

Girona, España. “A Place for Dreaming” •Joan Llensa.

63 REVIEWS “Riding in a Cadillac” •Guillermo Sánchez Cervantes

65 Contributors

Photo: Light posts in Insurgentes Av., Mexico City. ©Georgina Mexía-Amador.

For second time we open the doors of this barbershop,

incorporating urban presences such as transit signals, light posts, graffiti, as well as stickers and stencils, two representatives of what has been called street art.

Just as we promissed in our former issue, we now bring the first article on predecesor and contemporary literary magazines, beginning with the publication considered as a pioner in the history of Mexican literature: El Renacimiento (The Renaissance), founded by Ignacio Manuel Altamirano in 1869. Afterwards, you will find in our section ―Travels and Literature‖ a catching-eye footage of Nepal by our German photographer Walter Keller-Kirchhoff.

From New York, Yoni Oppenheim tells us about his experience as dramaturg and theater director when adapting Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll House in a modern Jewish context. Afterwards, Carla del Real offers us an excellent article on The Tale of Heike, whose context is samurai Japan.

This if followed by a couple of interesting texts in Mazahua, a Mexican indigenous language, written by Lizeth Rodríguez. Our contributor, Carlos Ascencio, offers an article on the International Music Fair (FIM in Spanish), in which he questions the organization and the offers in this sector of culture.

Since this issue comprehends November, we devote some sections to the Day of the Dead, one of the most important events in Mexican calendar during such month. Jesús Morago takes us to the particular Mayan graveyard of Pomuch, Campeche, while Guadalupe Vera, in the section ―in gestation‖, shares a harsh short story about the dead of a child.

In the same section of novel writers, we have Joan Llensa and his pictures portraying his native Girona, Spain. Last but not the least, in our section of reviews Guillermo Sánchez Cervantes delights us with his notes on the last novel by Álvaro Enrigue, Decencia.

Thank you for your preference.

MICOLÓ Photo: Stencil on a post in Insurgentes Av., Mexico City.

©Georgina Mexía-Amador.

INSTALLING IN THE GENEALOGIES PREDECESSORS AND CONTEMPORARY

El Renacimiento

Mexico, 1869

Text and translation by

Georgina Mexía-Amador

We start this section devoted to Mexican literary

magazines with an important predecessor: El

Renacimiento (The Renaissance), foundation

stone of our literature.

(All the images have been taken from the facsimile edited

by the UNAM —National Autonomous University of

Mexico— in 1979.)

s we said in our former issue, Mexican literature is to

be found in the magazines. However, all of them are

either in the forgotten aisles of the libraries or have

been published in thick and

boring facsimiles. That is why we wanted to

write this series of short articles in order to

approach the curious readers to our literary

magazines.

El Renacimiento, founded by

Ignacio Manuel Altamirano, appeared in

January of 1869. Mexico had already been

through the Independence war, the French

and US interventions, and it had been two

years since Maximilian of Habsburg had

been fusilladed. Amidst this confusion and

war, Altamirano and his fellow writers had

to leave the Muse for a while in order to

seize their weapons and defend their

country. Once the Republican government

of Benito JUárez was reestablished, peace was found and

writers opened a ―temple‖ for the country they had in common:

literature. But at that time, liberals and conservatives fought

between them, disputes that resulted in the Reform Wars.

Therefore, what Altamirano proposed was that in his ―temple‖

writers from both sides could reunite, leaving aside their

political differences. This was one of his merits. The other one,

was the attempt of founding and authentic Mexican literature,

which so far had only copied European models. We shall not

mistake copy with influence; Altamirano

himself distinguishes each of them: the former

was unthinkable, while the second was

necessary, evident. So, El Renacimiento, just

as its name signals, meant an artistic and

literary search where differences could be

forgotten in order to build a Republic of Letters.

And in that almost destroyed country, in

gestation, Altamirano concluded that what

Mexican people needed was education, and so

he poured in his publication his moralist ideas.

For us, literature is not a vehicle for teaching,

and so his arguments can seem out of date,

such as his strong criticism against the Can-

cán and the Zarzuela. However, in his context,

Altamirano was right and thought that drinks,

specially pulque (the beverage we are nowadays rescuing

from oblivion) was the cause behind people’s ignorance and

stupidity.

A

Page of El Renacimiento

The contents of El Renacimiento

Altamirano and his contemporaries were interested in a

number of literary genres and topics: national and foreign

writers, music, science, theater, travels, history, the past…

If we talk about the poetry they wrote and published we

must say that it was very bad, since men and women were still

clinging to the sentimental language and topics of their time.

What is interesting, though, are the translations they

made of Schiller, Victor Hugo, Lamartine, Lord

Byron, from their original languages; sometimes the

Spanish translation came along the original text, as

it happened with a fragment from the Divine

Comedy by Dante. Two poems by José Tomás de

Cuéllar are also among the things worthwhile,

dealing with his favorite topic: the pollos and pollas

(lazy and opportunist urban male and female

youths).

But other than this, poetry offers no more

interest. Since the publication tried to emphazise a

nationalistic spirit, an important trend was Mexican

landscapes, preferably the indigenous ones:

Pátzcuaro, Jalapa, Tizapán waterfall, and poems in

praise of the volcano of Colima and of the ruins of

Palenque. In this nationalistic furor, Francisco Pimentel, one of

the most firm conservatives, contributed with a series of

studies of indigenous languages: huaxteco, mixteco,

mexicano, mame, otomí, tarasco, zapoteco, tarahumar, ópata,

cahíta, matlatzinca and totonaco. Archeological studies were

included as well.

Images were an important component, most of them

litographies, which were included in the publication but not as

integrated with the texts. Foreign landscapes appeared in them

as well, since travel chronicles

were regularly published, such

as those by Gonzalo A. Esteva

written during his trips to

Heidelberg, Germany, and

Belgium.

But the most important

sections were the Chronicle of

the Week, in which Altamirano

himself made a recount of the

social, civic and cultural

happenings in the 19th century

Mexico City. He commented on

the National Day, the Day of the

Dead, concerts, theatrical

shows, moral matters, books

Litografía de El Renacimiento.

and even the presidential agenda. These chronicles are

invaluable documents if we want to learn about life during that

time.

Another interesting section was the Theatrical

Magazine by Manuel Peredo, in which operas, dramas and

even zarzuelas were talked of. We also find the Fashion

Magazine, whose target was the female readers.

Altamirano incorporated the Bibliographical Bulletin, in

which all the literary, scientific or political novelties were

reviewed. The section of Mexican Dates was under the pen of

Ignacio Cornejo, who gathered week by week all the dates

worthy of being remembered in Mexico, according to his own

criteria.

Justo Sierra and Altamirano worked on literary studies

on Charles Dickens, Victor Hugo, Lamartine; Francisco

Pimentel wrote one about Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. Novels

were also published periodically, whose titles are nowadays

forgotten because of their lack of attraction. However, we find

amongst them Clemencia, by Altamirano, the last Romantic

novel in Mexican literature.

In this aim of covering as much topics as posible, it is

interesting that there is an article devoted to the dinosaurs,

―pre-diluvium monsters‖, as well as other specimens being

discovered by paleontologists. The author of such article is the

German Oloardo Hassey.

El Renacimiento had a second epoch, starting from

September of 1869. Altamirano selled the publication because

of economic reasons (the very well-known story to Mexican

literary magazines), and he became redactor; F. Díaz de León

and Santiago White became editors. The section of the former

epoch remained the same, except for the Fashion Magazine.

Amongst the contents, it is remarkable an interesting

article by Cuéllar, entitled ―La literatura nacional‖ (―National

Literature‖), which is an attempt of tracing the history of

Mexican literature from the Aztecs till their present time.

However, the most important feature of this second epoch

is when Altamirano determines the end of El Renacimiento and

recognizes it as the incitator for the emergence of new literary

magazines in other spots of the country. But we had to wait

some years for the emergence of its undoubtful heir: the

Revista Azul, founded by Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera, which was

already installed in the cosmopolitism of the first years of the

Porfiriato and the one that inaugurated Modernism in Mexico

and Latin America.

Photo: Urban Art, Insurgentes Av., Mexico City. ©Georgina Mexía-Amador.

© Mr. Fly

Women procession in Kathmandu, the main city of Nepal.

Travels and Literature

in the top of the World: Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, Patan

Pictures: Walter Keller-Kirchhoff/Texts: Alexandra David Neel/

Translation from Spanish: Georgina Mexía-Amador

NEPAL In this issue the photographic work of Walter Keller-

Kirchhoff takes us to Nepal. These images taken at

the beginnings of 2011 are accompanied by

fragments of the diary by Alexandra David-Neel,

Belgian woman who travelled to Nepal in 1949,

already converted to Buddhism and speaker of

Tibetan.

As every woman of her time, she confronted

prohibitions, and even more as a Westerner in her

dealing with traditional men of India y Nepal.

Her impressions and her way of thinking are those of

a traveler, not of a tourist, and she always shows a

great respect and wisdom for the culture and religion

of those remote places, which remain unknown and

alien to us.

―—You will see —he continued— cities, monuments, all the things that any foreign tourist allowed to enter Nepal can see. But there is another Nepal… a Nepal dating from thousands and thousands of centuries, and whose vestiges are still perceptible for those who have been able to enhance their perception faculties and have acquired new senses.‖

Patan main square, in Kathmandu valley, with

its pagoda-like buildings.

Old man in Bhaktapur, in Kathmandu Valley. The features of the ancient native tribes of the Himalaya are easily distinguishable in his face.

Poster seller in the Tamel area of Kathmandu.

Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, Durga… and Mona Lisa.

Buddhist-style sculptures worshipped in a street of Kathmandu.

With red tika on the forehead, the god contemplates.

Women in a ritual in Kathmandu.

Prayers, incense and tika on the forehead. Marigolds hang from a corner. They do not condemn with their glances our scrutiny of the divine.

Woman sitting in the porch of a traditional house in Bhaktapur.

Meanwhile, the dog dreams…

―We are told that Nepal derives from Nê, a wise man who ruled the country in very ancient times.‖

(A. David-Neel)

Religious procession in Bhaktapur, ―the city of the worshippers‖.

The wind does not move the stony moustaches of the guardians… but their eyes do look at us.

The same religious procession in Bhaktapur.

Now the seashells sing.

Buddhist stupa of Swayambunath in Kathmandu.

―Swayambhu is the Buddha who ―gave birth to himself‖ or that ―exists

for himself‖. […] The masters of the esoteric schools teach that

Swayambu-flame is a symbol which designates energy.‖ (A. D-N)

―—Nepal —he continues— is a land highly favored by the gods. The gods

have formed it between the mountains, building valleys and obliging the

mountains to let the water they kept run so that the rivers bathe the

valleys…‖ (A. D-N).

Jug seller.

Women in a balcony in Kathmandu.

Are they only looking at the street or was that the place, when they were young, from where they

wished to be looked at by someone?

Stone lion and Hanuman in Bhaktapur.

The sacred beasts…

We are being watched from the other world, where time is a cycle of reincarnations.

The Buddhist stupa of Pashupatinath in Kathmandu.

Children are being initiated in the knowledge of Buddha. The flags are of Tibetan influence, not far away from here. The Tibetan shamans wrote prayers in pieces of cloth and hung them so that the wind could take them to the deities. Then, Buddhism adopted this practice.

Buddhist monk standing on the esplanade of the Pashupatinath stupa.

Oh, monk, if you cover yourself thus from the sun, what will you do when you contemplate Buddha’s blaze?

The eyes of the Buddha of Pashupatinath.

The sacred bell of Pashupatinath.

Whom shall we invoke?

―I feel horror for those programs scheduled by others to determine my movements. No matter how kind

and well-intentioned you are, you cannot guess what I am interested about, what I wish to see and which

are the things that do not interest me in the least.‖ (A. D-N)

The traditional square of

Bhaktapur.

Old man in Bhaktapur

The transience of human life: always standing between light and shadow.

―—Why are you dressed as our

sadhus do?— he asks me almost

angry.

—I am a Buddhist sadhui.

—But you are a foreigner … Have

you been allowed to enter

Nepal?...

—Yes.

His face darkens even more.

—It is incredible! It should not be

allowed to the barbarians to enter

this country.‖ (A. D-N).

Wooden carved door, with rests of tika and marigold.

Street seller of bangles and necklaces.

For the Nepali women, the color of the sari must match with that of the bangles, the earrings and the bindi with which they adorn the forehead. Each wrist must carry at least five bangles, all of them of the same

color. And the sound they produce is regarded as a coquetry.

Newspapers stand in a bazaar in Kathmandu.

How will it be to read a rock magazine in Devanagari?

Typical house in Bhaktapur.

Let’s gaze the world through these windows!

Man who has gone to the temple with flowers, tika on the forehead and the typical male Nepali hat, the dhaka topi.

by Yoni Oppenheim

24/6: A Jewish Theater Company’s A Doll House

TORVALD: Nora—can I ever be more than a stranger to you? NORA: (picking up her Megillah – Book of Esther) Oh, Torvald—it would take the greatest miracle of all— TORVALD: What would that miracle be? NORA: Both you and I would have to transform ourselves to the point that—Oh, Torvald, I’ve stopped relying on miracles. TORVALD: But I do believe. It’s Purim. Tell me! Transform ourselves to the point that—? NORA: That our life together would be a true marriage. (She breaks out of the performance square, kicking candy, and opens the door and walks through it, kissing the mezuzah on the door.) TORVALD: (sinks down). Nora! Nora! (Looks around and gets up) Empty. She’s gone. (Picking up her headscarf and smelling it, a feeling of hope washes over him.) The greatest miracle— BALLADEER: (singing) I am free/ I am free/I am free/No more cages for me/Free as a bird, Free as can be./Songbird/Yes you've found your song to sing/You were singing for your supper/Had a taste for finer things./Songbird/Now you know what song to sing/And you can spread your wings. NORA slams the door shut behind her. Blackout. (Excerpt from A Doll House Adapted by: Yoni Oppenheim, music and lyrics by: Bronwen Mullin, All Rights Reserved 2011)

s the last moments of my adaptation attest, 24/6:

A Jewish Theater Company’s A Doll House was

no ordinary production of Ibsen’s play. Ibsen’s

original characters are 19th Century Norwegians

celebrating Christmas at the dawn of private banking in

Norway, whereas ours are 21st-century New York Modern

Orthodox Jews celebrating the holiday of Purim in the

aftermath of the financial crisis and the Madoff scandal.

Ibsen’s play lies at the heart of modern social drama. Our

production included elements of the traditional Purim

A

Theater

spiel, which lies at the origin of the socially engaged

Yiddish theater tradition, along with interwoven texts from

the Bible which were chanted by Nora as her tarantella.

In a theater landscape which is largely secular and

where performances on Friday nights and Saturday

matinees are de rigueur, we are a company of actors,

directors, designers, playwrights, and musicians pursuing

theater as our vocation despite being Sabbath observant.

As a home for Sabbath-observant Jewish theater artists,

we aim to balance our distinct religious traditions while

fully engaging and contributing to the modern world in

which we live. Ibsen’s play provided us with a forum to

explore these issues and the challenges they present to

our community. It also allowed us to present a classic

play to an audience of whom surprisingly many were not

familiar with this, Ibsen’s most popular play.

Resetting Ibsen’s play into a modern Jewish

culture is not as far fetched as it might sound to some.

The production itself was inspired by several experiences

I had doing my Masters in Ibsen Studies at the University

of Oslo’s Centre for Ibsen Studies. Whilst in Oslo I saw

Mitsuya Mori’s highly successful and very memorable

Japanese production Double Nora, a modern Noh play

based on A Doll’s House. It opened up for me the

possibilities as a director in adapting Ibsen across

cultures, while making it highly resonant to a modern

audience. Later in my studies, I learned that the one book

Ibsen admitted to reading and influencing his work, and

which still sits on his desk in his apartment which is now

the Ibsen Museum, is the Bible. My production analyzed

Ibsen’s play through the lens of the Book of Esther and

simultaneously, deconstructed the biblical story though

the lens of A Doll House. Finally, I discovered Ibsen’s

deep affinity for the Jewish people which was expressed

in his letters to his contemporary Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

and to Danish-Jewish critic Georg Brandes. In the Jewish

people, Ibsen found a model and inspiration for

maintaining one’s unique identity despite the challenges

of an exilic existence. We at 24/6: A Jewish Theater

Company in turn, have found inspiration in Ibsen’s words

and works, and have created a home for Sabbath

observant theater artists, whose work and voices are too

often exiled from the world of the theater.

A Doll House Scene 1 Torvald: Leor Hackel Nora: Etta Abramson (Nora is wearing her Queen Esther crown. She is holding her copy of The Book of Esther and a traditional food package which people give one another on Purim. Torvald is wearing a yarmulke (skull cap) on his head.) TORVALD: ...All these snacks are making me hungry. When did you get this stuff?

NORA: After I brought Ivar and Emmy to school. Bob’s still asleep.

TORVALD: You shouldn’t be spending so much money on this stuff.

NORA: Chanting from Esther 9:22 or 9:19 “…sending delicacies to one another, and gifts to the poor.”

TORVALD: Mockingly chanting back in the same melody ―I don’t think the Bible had personalized M&Ms in mind.‖ Nor fancy costumes. Anyway, until my new job at the bank starts we should be the ones getting gifts for the poor.

24/6 A Jewish Theater Company http://twentyfoursix.weebly.com

he Tale of Heike (Heike Monogatari) is considered one of the two greatest works of

Japanese literature, along with The Tale of Genji (Genji Monogatari). The Heike has been called an “epic”, but it is not correct to qualify it with this term. Even though the Heike has some characteristics of this genre, “epic” is a word used to qualify some works of Western literature. Therefore, the term monogatari is prefered over “epic”. The monogatari is a Japanese literary genre that designates literary works written in prose. Carlos Rubio López, one of the translators for the Heike Spanish edition by Gredos—one of the few Spanish translations that have been done of this work—explains that the Heike belongs to the gunki monogatari or “war tales” genre, of the bun-hōshi or the “bonze literature” kind, played by the biwa-hōshi or “lute bonzes.” These bonzes were blind priests that used to

recite the 12 books that make up the Heike, but only the most accomplished ones were allowed to recite the epilogue. They sang the Heike for all kinds of public throughout Japan—the emperor and courtiers, people from all trades, people that lived in far away provinces, and so on.

The Heike Monogatari is a work that has its origins in the oral tradition, and is a product of several authors. The first version of the written text is attributed to Yukinaga and Shokubutsu—a learned monk and a blind musician, respectively. Yoshida Kenkō, a Japanese author and Buddhist monk, asserts in his work Essays in idleness: “Yukinaga wrote the Heike Monogatari and showed it to a blind musician called Shokubutsu, who recited it […] Shokubutsu was a native of the eastern region. Yukinaga ordered him to gather information on samurais, archery, horses, and war strategy, and then he wrote it all down.” Throughout time other details such as Buddhist teachings, family trees, and so on, were added. The definitive Heike version

T

On a moonless pitch-dark night, two generals of a samurai clan discuss the strategy they should follow. Regardless of the pouring rain and the roaring sea, one of them decides to go on board. His objective is to attack and surprise the enemy, who is in a nearby island… Text and translation from Spanish: Carla del Real

The Tale of Heike, A War Tale of Samurai Japan samurái

Background image: Heike monogatari manuscript

Rare Books of the National Diet Library

http://www.ndl.go.jp

was dictated in 1371 by Akashi Kakuichi, who led one of the two schools of Heike balladry that existed back then: the Ichikataryū school and the Yasaka-ryū school, Kakuichi’s school.

The Heike’s plot is based on historical events that took place in twelve-century Japan. It covers a period of 90 years (1131-1221), but it focuses in the 1167-1192 period. It tells the rise and fall of the Heike (or Taira) clan into the hands of the rival clan, the Genji (or Minamoto) clan. Instead of paying attention to the characterization of

characters, the Heike intends to portray the ephemeral aspects of earthly issues through a parable that can be appreciated in the opening lines of the Heike prologue: “the bell of the Gion temple tolls into every man’s heart to warn him that all is vanity and evanescence”, and the closing lines of the epilogue: “as the evening sun was about to go down behind the mountain, the bell of Jakkō-in temple began to toll.” It does not intend to portray heroic deeds. The Heike has no heroes. The characters give the reader an impression of deep humanity. They make good and bad decisions and suffer their consequences. It could be said that this is one of the religious motifs of the Heike: the belief in karma contained in the Buddhist teachings, a religion that, along with Shintoism, has been practiced in Japan for centuries. As a result of the law of karma, the fall of the Heike clan is produced, an event that leads to another motif of the Heike: the social motif. The Heike reflects the struggle for political power that existed between these two powerful samurai clans and the substitution of one group by another.

Even though the Heike does not have a protagonist, the character of Taira no Kiyomori stands out, for he is the one who sets into motion the action that happens throughout the Heike.

Kiyomori is a Heike general who is rapidly promoted due to his victories and thus rises quickly in the social scale. He leads the Heike clan to a splendorous age. As a result of becoming prosperous in court and enjoying the favor of the emperor, Kiyomori becomes arrogant, proud, tyrannical, and ambitious. Not only the rival clans are affected by Kiyomori’s excessive and despotic power and ambition, but also the governors from far away provinces, Buddhist monks living at reclusive locations, and the population in general. His family enjoys prosperity for 20 years, but in so far as Kiyomori’s power, influence and arrogance grow, his enemies at court, temples, the capital, and provinces multiply. Kiyomori dies before witnessing the devastation and fall of his clan caused by the bad karma, which reaches all his descendants.

Heike monogatari film version poster.

http://ja.wikipedia.org

Heike monogatari illustrated version detail.

http://sonic.net

Despite this, Kiyomori is not an antihero, for the Heike has no heroes. The characters are not idealized, not even the most balanced, humble, wise and sensible ones—for instance, Shigemori, Kiyomori’s son. A man can be appreciated in Kiyomori, nothing more. He makes mistakes and takes good decisions; he has virtues and defects. The same could be said of all the characters that appear throughout the Heike. General Minamoto no Yoshitsune and Kiso Yoshinaka are characters that also attract the reader’s attention because of their actions. They both are samurais that belong to the Genji clan. They stand out in battle due to their bravery, daringness, and their victories in the battlefield, but also due to arrogance and conceit, in Yoshinaka’s case.

The Heike Monogatari has inspired other branches of art, such as painting and theater. For instance, the portrayal of several Heike scenes on the Heike Monogatari emaki (paint roll) or on ukiyo-e paintings (Japanese woodblock prints), and the Noh plays devoted to Heike chapters. Again, Carlos Rubio López provides information on this point. An example of a Noh play based on the Heike is “Atsumori”. This play follows the “The

Death of Atsumori” (9, XVI) in which samurai Naozane regrets having to behead his enemy—a young Heike samurai who looks like his son. Carlos Rubio also points out that Noh theatre is “the illustrious depositary of the Heike topics, for most of the 16 Noh plays on military issues (shuramono) are based on Heike episodes and many of them follow faithfully the Heike Monogatari text.” Furthermore, the kōwakamai—musicals with dance—that descends from one of the Noh divisions, has as protagonists in 33 of its 50 musical dramas the Heike samurais. Contemporary examples of the validity of Heike Monogatari are all those manga (or Japanese comics) that tell the Heike story throughout their vignettes.

As a curious data related with the Heike, there is the heikegani (Heike crabs), a species of crab. The face of a samurai can be observed on the shell of these crabs. The legend tells us that the heikegani are the reincarnation of the spirits of the Heike samurais who were defeated and died in the battle of Dan-no-ura—the place where the definite battle against the Heike took place. More information on this topic could be found in Carl Sagan’s video “Heike crabs” (in Cosmos: A Personal Voyage series), in which he explains this process of artificial selection, where the Heike crabs are thrown back to the sea by the fishermen. Dan-no-ura crab.

http://meimikaligawa.blogspot.com

Dan-no-ura crabs painting.

http://suzukiroshi.sfzc.org

© Mr. Fly

TEXTS IN MAZAHUA by Lizeth Rodríguez Translation from Spanish by Nayelli Pérez

Until now, indigenous writers have needed to write in Spanish to reach more readers. Therefore, we are glad to include a Spanish speaker who has ventured to write in Mazahua, one of the several indigenous languages in Mexico.

Photo: wall of an abandoned house in Huejotzingo, Puebla, Mexico. © Georgina Mexía-Amador.

Dyezho Tuxkuku Mexe Mijñi Dyoo Miño Pale Male Tata Nana Yo t'ii ¡Texeji töjöbi! Töjöbi por májá ¡Múbúbi mákjojme! Töjöbi, Töjöbi, Töjöbi Yo ubi, nu yoo, yo ntee Nanka ajense mixtjo Ñe nu universo pesi jyarù, zana, seje. Jmutúji töjö ngek`ua d'akú pokjú yotza de las cosas. ¡Dador de la vida!

Song Swallow Owl Spider Squirrel Dog Coyote Grandfather Grandmother Father Mother Children Everybody sing! Sing for joy Happy hearts! Sing, sing, sing Animals, flowers, people… Because the sky is beautiful And the Universe has the Sun, the Moon, the Stars. Join your song to thank the Creator of all things, Giver of Life!

Negeko e Emilio

Nzhodú San Felipe bi na dyáá chjüü Papalotepec, mbeka gi manji jango k’e nujnu nacía e jiarú. Ra xörä ra xörä ñeje nzháa – nzháa e jiarú kjaji rutina.

E Pablo kja mi tsike poblador de San Felipe ñeje páa nudya mi janda zinzapjú tzentzontle o mamaze: “Ri n era magó nujnu ngeko janda e jierú mbese.”

Ma xörä nijeje, Pablo go nanga punku jingua jonxora tmó chjimechi ñeje ndeje ngeko e viaje ñeje emprendío e recorrido tsike rrekua. Janga o sétre e dyáá, go ndese asta e axeze ñeje s’etre sorprendió texe ko o’soo janda su alrededor. ¡Vista na Hermosa!

Numa jñurú janda e paisaje, e jiarú comenzó mbese ñeje e Pablo se emocionó tanto, tanto, k’e ndizi paaka ndeseze e dyáá ngeko contemplar el nacimiento e jiarú ñeje janda yo súú volar por e jense.

The Boy and the Mountain

For Emilio

Near the town of San Felipe there was a mountain called Papalotepec, of which some people say it is the place where the Sun is born. Every morning and every sunset the Sun followed its routine.

Pablo was a young inhabitant of San Felipe and, one day, while he was seeing the flight of a tzentzontle, he thought “I want to go there to see how the Sun is born.”

Next morning, Pablo got up long before sunrise; he took some bread and water for his trip and started his way on a small donkey. When he arrived at the mountain, he climbed up until the top and, on arriving there he got surprised of everything that he could see all around. It was an awesome sight!

Then, when he sat down to admire the landscape, the Sun started rising and Pablo got thrilled so much that, from that day on, he climbs that mountain to gaze at the rising of the Sun and to look at the birds flying in the sky.

Photo: Newspapers stand in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. ©Georgina Mexía-Amador.

t is hard to approach to four days of intense activities

taking place in different places at the same time. So,

more than a detailed summary, this article is the

product of what one of the modest people present at the

fair, could watch..

The offer of the Fair consisted in concerts,

lectures, showcases, workshops, screenings, clinics

(spaces where a musician talks about his experience with

the instrument he plays), and encounters in different

places in Guadalajara, such as Expo Guadalajara, Teatro

Diana, Cine Foro de la Universidad de Guadalajara, a

couple of hotel’s lounges, and half a dozen venues.

However, most of the people present preferred to attend

the stands where alcoholic drinks were distributed for

free, courtesy of the sponsors.

I

International Music Fair

From June 16th to 19th the 1st International Music Fair took place

in Guadalajara, Jalisco (Mexico), and there are still many things

hard to digest… By Carlos Ascencio/Translation to Spanish by Nayelli Pérez

Café TACVBA

Photo taken from the band’s

oficial Facebook.

The initiative of setting up the International Music

Fair (FIM by its Spanish acronym) came from the

Universidad de Guadalajara, the same architects of the

International Book Fair (FIL by its Spanish acronym) of

Guadalajara, one of the most important fairs of the world

(according to its own organizers), and the International

Film Festival (FIC by its Spanish acronym) of the same

city. Their intention is to raise the FIM to the same level of

those two events, that call thousands people every year

in Guadalajara.

Nevertheless, the FIM still lacks a personality of its

own and of a focused offer for the different kinds of public

that assisted, which resulted to be a quite mixed

audience, since you could find experienced musicians

with enthusiastic beginners, opera singers with trash

metal vocalists, and programmers of great auditoriums

with bands playing for a small group of relatives and

friends. That is to say, it might seem that there had not

been a true link between the exhibitors and the audience,

only in the field of their hopes. It is also regrettable that

some teachings learned from the organization of the two

events already mentioned (the FIL and the FIC) were not

capitalized, for instance, having a guest country for the

FIM.

Without a doubt, it was a good beginning, since,

long time ago, our country needed a place where different

characters involved in what we have called music could

meet: from the performer to the audience, not forgetting

the manager, the producer, the editor, the distributor, the

person who deals with royalties, the promoter, the

sponsor, and all the ―-or‖ that you can imagine, and that

can be behind the show business.

JAIME LÓPEZ

http://metropoliblog.com

I use the words ―show business‖ instead of ―art‖, ―cultural

or aesthetic expression,‖ since beyond all the good things

that this first FIM brought, the commercial aspect was the

one that lead the sails of this ship. The main debate of

several superb lectures was focused on the ruin of the

music industry, the new ways of massive distribution of

music, how to make business, marketing, and show

business. The fact is that, nowadays, music is a

business… a very profitable business. However, the

cultural, social, and academic aspects were the main

absence of the FIM and, instead of that, topics dealt with

the common place, the anecdotal comment, the

obviousness: for example, ―to record or not in a ―major‖

company?‖ became the question for which hundreds of

teenagers, holding their guitars and dreams under their

arm, were expecting the answer attentively. As if that

decision really depended on them, as if it was really an

option.

Among the most outstanding shows during the

FIM, I can mention the one performed by Jaime López

and his Chilanga Banda, made up, this time, by the

members of Café Tacvba, Ramiro del Real, Children, and

Andrea Balency in the Teatro Diana on Saturday, June

18. Unlike participations performed in other events such

as the Indie-O Music Awards or the last edition of Vive

Latino –during the tribute to Cerati– this band of

experienced musicians was perfectly assembled, and the

sound result of this coupling was excellent. So, the

question that came up inevitably was if there would be

more shows with the mentioned band and members,

which, without a doubt, it would be very tempting.

The FIM laid down an important precedent for what

will happen in the coming years. Besides, it offers a view

of how music is perceived nowadays, the course music

will take in a future, and the great challenges, legacy from

the past. If people want the FIM to be carried out again, it

will be necessary to make out and include new horizons

and not only to contribute reinforcing the predominant

system, since the word ―music‖ has endless edges and

slopes, and it is an inexhaustible topic. However, if it

continues that way, having four days with a so small

approach on the organizers’ side, it will be impossible to

say that it will become a true international music fair..

Guadalajara International Music Fair logo

http://fimguadalajara.mx

Photo: “No Parking” sign in Insurgentes Av., Mexico City. © Georgina Mexía-Amador.

In Pomuch death

is almost the end… almost.

Jesús Morago

Texts and pictures

Translation from Spanish by Georgina Mexía-Amador

The Graveyard

of POMUCH,

Campeche

Why shouldn’t

we, the dead

ones, enjoy

the light?

Who said we

were not

going to meet

again?

Beyond life you have your niche, your window, your watchtower.

Do you know me?

You have not

stopped

looking at me…

I hope

I have ironed the

cloth

the way you like it.

The cheese bread is being baked.

The aroma reaches the graveyard.

By Guadalupe Vera. Translation from Spanish by Nayelli Pérez

he head blew up as a melon that is thrown out on the floor.

We had no other choice than burying quickly. His mom didn’t

want that; she begged me to keep vigil over him and do some

processions, canticles belched by bitter and unfriendly

spinsters. She wanted people crying and go-betweens to meet at home

to say the rosary and sing to his soul. What for? He was good. I know that

everybody in the town says I am a heartless brute. Maybe I am.

When we carried him in his coffin there were some people who

wanted to help me lift him up. Wood was heavier than him! I let his

grandmother, my father, and my brother help me for a while. They loved

him too; and I knew the little grave weighed them more for the crushed

heart, that oppressed us and stopped from walking, than due to what the

coffin weighed on our shoulders.

The moment we buried him, María wanted to open the coffin to

kiss him and say goodnight to him. She yelled “José, José, my baby is

afraid of darkness!” And she threw herself down on the floor crying,

mudding the dry ground with her tears and dribs.

Of course I didn’t let anybody open the coffin! My kid isn’t any

fair game and he doesn’t have to raise people’s morbid fascination. They

didn’t love him as I did, they are not sorry about his death as much as I

am. Besides, I knew they wanted to see how his head had left to tell

another people later, and those to other strangers with faces of horror

and pity, and after this, I don’t care if they looked at me with sorrow

or compassion. What’s more, I don’t even want them to see me.

When they finished throwing the last fist of earth, everybody

rushed towards his mother to pick her up while she kept screaming, I did

not. It pleases me that she suffers. I was everything for the boy and he

was everything for me, and I am annoyed to see María crying. I can’t stop

seeing her with disgust and from a distance. Now I notice how much a

woman can pretend, to what extent she can use her tears to convince

others. She never loved him so much.

My boy was a burden for her, she complained constantly because

she had to clean him up, to get him off to sleep; she was annoyed when

he had a tantrum, when he did not want to eat, when he asked her to

play with him, when he laughed a lot on looking at me every time I got

from work; and now, it turns out that motherly love came to her with his

death disguised as regret… That’s why she wanted us to say the rosaries

and that, on the way to bury him, they played drums and trumpets so he

passed away happily. When people die you remember more how good

they were, but above all, what you stopped doing for them. You

remember memories of all your complaints as if they were a flock of black

birds that go for you to take your eyes out and dig you holes in your soul,

so happiness can slip away there. I wish everything slips away from her

there!

Even when they buried him I thought that boy loved me so much

that he decided to die so I can free from his mother. He threw himself

T

in gestation

from the stairs without anybody watching over him. I heard how his skull

blew up from outside, where I was making a little chair and a table so

that he did not eat on the floor and, however much I tried to run quickly,

the silence of the thud without a scream that came after, soften my legs

up. María didn’t realize just then, until she heard my sharp crying, while I

tried to put the filling in his little head.

That’s why I go. No useless rosaries or meals for people crying.

For this death there are no more mourners than me. Today I leave his

mother, there is nothing that join me to her spine; there are bad women

who do not love their children. They use their children to have money,

attention and even to hold their man. I know about it and that’s why I

leave her. I’m not going to have more children to become her instrument.

I don’t want my blood to become anybody’s walking stick, to get petate1,

food, and aguardiente2 for free.

Yes! It hurts me a lot to leave the grave with the little cold body,

but he is not there, only the remains of his black and blue skin, a smashed

head, and the most painful memory of what my boy was. I have in my

head, deep inside, his frank roars of laughter that rang out as a prize

when I made him jokes and he made me feel as the man who told the

best jokes in the world, although I don’t even know who to talk right in

public or in private; but he made me be someone hard-working and keen

to love a lot, and not the animal that everybody thinks I am.

1 A bedroll made of woven fibers of palm of petate.

2 An alcoholic drink.

And that thing of drinking alcohol and spending my time to

laziness, I decided that I won’t do it. I’m going to work far away from here

and in an honest way, because right now I feel he can watch me all the

time and I’m not going to let him believe he had a bad father. What it’s

true is that I already want that everybody gets out of the cemetery and

leaves me alone for a while to plant some geraniums on the ground that

covered him, because he loved to pull them up, although his Mom got

angry because he tore them up, because she does like to take care of her

plants, more than us. I’m going to plant a lot and, wherever he is, I think

he’s going to like to see his little grave.

Well, yes, maybe I am an insensitive brute as María says, but I’m

not coming back. I don’t care her suffering or how she will manage after. I

just tell all of you I decided that with the first salary I earn in the city, I’m

going to tattoo some geraniums on my chest to honor him forever and

not having to come to visit his little grave, where there is nothing left,

only remains and the last bond that join me with her, because it’s sure

she is going to keep coming very often, to water the geraniums feeling

less guilty and being out for people to feel sorry for her and, well, I don’t

want to meet her. I can already hear people from the town saying that

José, who is an animal, left María, who is so good, who loved her boy very

much, and that as she can’t get over her boy’s death, she is going to take

care of his little grave. Poor of my child, even after his death María will

keep using him as her walking stick to look for a new brute that believes

her words and gives her petate, house, aguardiente, and a new baby.

A Place

for

Dreaming

Pictures

and text

by Joan Llensa

Translation from Spanish

by Nayelli Pérez

in gestation

Many times we have contemplated a forest or a virgin spot without having really thinking

about what these places, apparently ordinary, can give us. Last April I decided to enter a

forest near my home. I prepared a bag with all the necessary things for a day trip: light

food, water, juice and, of course, my camera. I headed for northeast until the old stone

path started disappearing among the undergrowth and the grove. After one hour and a

half of trekking, my eyes discovered, in astonishment, a place that it seemed to belong to

the movies, where fantastic beings lived hidden from our eyes. The vision of a dark and

humid grove, with hundreds of stones white as snow widespread on the ground, made me

believe that I was in the world of elves.

I went on my way a little more

and, when the forest cleared, the

wonder before my eyes was

bigger: a mantle of all shades of

green you can imagine, burst into

the sapphire sky. A virgin spot

was just near my home. However,

of all the emotions that I felt that

day, there was one that attracted

my attention: I was not as alone

as I thought. Maybe it was the

illusion or the drunkenness that

dreamlike place caused me, but in

all moment I felt watched by

mythological forest beings: elves,

fairies… And that feeling took

deep roots in my heart as a

spear.

It was 1996 when the name Álvaro Enrigue began to be heard in the Latin American literary scene. He was a newbie that gained fame with The Death of a Plumber, novel with which he was awarded the Premio de Primera Novela Joaquín Mortiz that year. Then he revealed himself as a great promise in the letters that, until now, has been kept. Borges’ narrative influence, Vila-Matas’ precision, Bolaño’s wild lyricism and, beating now and then, Bryce Echenique’s heart can be felt in his pages.

This year he is back with his sixth and most recent novel, Decency, edited by Anagrama. Placed in the 1960s, it depicts an adventure in a Cadillac that travels across Jalisco and Michoacán looking for the paradoxes of the second half of the 20th century Mexico: How such a degree of violence and impunity was reached? What happened with the ideals of the 60’s? What about the Revolution? This book is about a road trip that aims to recount the Mexican 20th century in a 24 hours trip.

The novel is performed in two stages. The first one is the story of a rich old man called Longinos Brumell—who has built his life in the wrong way—that is kidnapped by two idealistic guerrilla youngsters for being the accidental witness of a terrorist attack against the consulate of the United States. While he is traveling, kidnapped, in the Cadillac, old Brumell is remembering the second story, his story: the boy he was when the revolution exploded in his face, his first cigarette, the first performance of the cinema, the seedy eyes of the Skinny Osorio—his first love—,the first dead.

— By Guillermo Sánchez Cervantes/ Translation from Spanish by Nayelli Pérez.

Riding in a Cadillac The new novel by Álvaro Enrigue, Decency, is an attempt to decipher present-day Mexico’s problems, with a story that can be enjoyed at top speed.

REVIEWS: BOOKS

Photo: Interior of a Buick ca. 1920 © Georgina Mexía-Amador.

“From the beginning I planned on telling two stories that complemented one another as this trip through the west went on. The scoop was about getting together a survivor of the revolution and two guerrilla men of the Liga 23 of September—guerilla that outburst in the country in the 70’s—traveling at 1000 per hour in a Cadillac across Michoacán—says Álvaro Enrigue—. Two trips that run simultaneously, the same as the two levels of the Periferico.”

Decency is written with sweat and saliva. It is inhabited by characters that taste as cinnamon and liquor, and villains that, despite their misdeeds, become bosom friends, who captivate the reader with dialogs we would not think possible from such brutal characters, as in a movie by Tarantino: from which would be the best repertory of songs by Roberto Carlos, to how to make believe tequila with piloncillo is the most exclusive wine. A novel that crushes the patriotic myths and take the folklore off the country until leaving it naked.

“It is a book that problematizes the great decomposition that the country seems to be suffering; a problem that was brewed in the revolution. The idea of living fast and dying like a hero, the brutal machismo that screws everything, the culture of impunity, the judicial system the serves itself first and the bosses next. A conversation that the writers of my generation have not dared to have with the root it irremediably comes from,” says Enrigue.

With tragicomic tones and a humor without concessions, Decency portrays a Mexico of no one, where everybody seems to rule themselves without notion of order or ethics. “My characters have an outrageous idea of what is decent. Theirs is a mercenary moral with which the country was built after the revolution. Here each one is their saint,” he says. Characters that are the emblem of everything that has been done wrong, of how every abuse of the political stratus seems something credible, traditional, and even justifiable.

Álvaro Enrigue takes us from the past to the present with complete easiness: virtues of a novelist that writes alone, reads alone, and leaves the responsibility of judging his own narrative to the time. “Decency comes to tell us that we are responsible of the current disaster, that we have gone through a century devotedly cultivating the egg of the serpent,” concludes the writer.

Photo: Interior of a Ford Thunderbird 1957. © Georgina Mexía-Amador.

Carlos Ascencio (Mexico City, 1986). He studies a BA in Musical Education and Ethnomusicology at the ENA (National Music School) of the UNAM (National Autonomous University of Mexico). He contributes at the radio broadcast Mercado Negro which plays Hispanoamerican indie music in 90.9. He has been editor’s assistant in the Indie Rocks! Magazine. He won the second place in the First University Competition of Radio Broadcasting of the UNAM, in the category of musical broadcast. Walter Keller-Kirchhof (Germany, 1951). He is the Head of the Project of Betterment for the North and East of Sri Lanka, sponsored by the governments of Germany and Australia. This project looks for the betterment of the public services of that Asian country. He has also collaborated in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Thailand, Malasya, Indonesia and Timor Leste. Between 1985 and 2003 he worked as journalist and photographer. Marisol Vázquez (Mexico City, 1979). She has a BA in Pedagogy at the UNAM and a Masters in Educational Informatics. She has labored at the MUCA (University Museum of Arts and Sciences), at the FCE (Fondo de Cultura Económica) and has contributed with Santillana publishing house. She currently directs Arte con Letra. Joan Llensa Aubert (Sant Joan les fonts, Girona, Spain, 1977). He grew up reading the collections “Elige tu aventura” and “La máquina del tiempo”. When he was 14 years old he contributed with his local broadcast (Radio Sant Joan, 107FM), where he produced and presented a variety of programs during 10 years. In 2010 he goes deep in children’s literature creative writing guided by Carmen and Gervasio Posadas. He has published some short stories and is currently working in what he wishes to be his first novel. Lizeth Rodríguez (San Luis Potosí, Mexico, 1991). She is a student of the BA in Hispanoamerican Language and Literature at the UASLP (Autonomous University of San Luis Potosí). She belongs to the RedNELL (National Network of Literature and Linguistics Students) as a delegate of her state. She loves reading and writing, and speaks jñatrjo (Mazahua).

Guadalupe Vera (Mexico City, 1976). She studied Law at the UNAM and specialized in intellectual property. She loves literature and writing. She currently lives in Mexico City with her husband and their two kids.

Guillermo Sánchez Cervantes (Mexico City, 1983). Since he was a kid he felt a suspicious passion for fiction and books, which led him to study English

Literature at the UNAM. His dissertation dealt with the works of homosexual writer Com Tóibín. He is a frustrated professor, a chocolate lover, who has worked as a freelance translator and currently works as writer and journalist of the Mexican magazine Gatopardo, where he has interviewed artists, politicians, film makers and writers. He also currently conducts the podcast “Contraportada”.

Carla Del Real (Mexico City, 1982). She studied Informatics and English Literature at the UNAM. She is a specialist in the translation of texts in English and Spanish. She has worked with researchers in the fields of Buddhism, Psychology and is recently diving in the world of cars. Literature is one of her major interests, especially the Japanese. She loves animals, particularly dogs.

Yoni Oppenheim (New York). He is a New York based theater director and dramaturg. He is the founding co-artistic director of 24/6: A Jewish Theater Company. His paternal grandfather, Fritz Werner Oppenheim, was briefly a Weimar Republic Government consular attaché in Veracruz and later Mexico City, before returning to Germany because of challenges leading a religiously observant lifestyle in 1920s Mexico.

Jesús Morago (Mexico City, 1957). He graduated in Hispanic Literature at the UNAM with a dissertation on José Revueltas. He has published in several magazines and journals under different pseudonyms. He contributed at the newspapers El Nacional and Uno más uno. He is currently a professor in the Postgraduate program of Visual Arts at the San Carlos Academy of the UNAM.

TRANSLATORS

Fabiola Mercado (Mexico City, 1981). She has a BA in English Language and Literature from the UNAM, with a specialization in translation. She has worked for the renowned institute Colegio de México, the National Ministry of Education (SEP) and the publishing house Ediciones Culturales Internacionales. She is currently working at the publishing house Editores Mexicanos Unidos, where she labors as style corrector, translator and redactor.

Nayelli Pérez (Mexico City, 1982). She has a BA in English Language and Literature from the UNAM, with a specialization in literary criticism. She nowadays works for the publishing group Macmillan.

CONTRIBUTORS

http://lapeluqueriademicolo.weebly.com Facebook: La peluquería de Micoló/Micolo’s Barbershop P

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