English Translations of Cubans Writing From the Island
“Fly without fear” series, by Luis Felipe Rojas It was the Argentine author Jorge Luis Borges who said “To organize libraries is to silently practice the art of critique.” In the past few months I have also dedicated myself to organizing ’my library,’ but backwards, the library of books which I maybe had one day, … Continue reading “The Hungers That Kill Me / Luis Felipe Rojas”
We already know that Cuba is a country of paradoxes. Around here it’s not rare to see a nuclear physicist selling cotton candy in an amusement park. A plastic surgeon working 4 hours as a taxi driver. Or a university student alternating her studies with work as a prostitute. If there is something Fidel Castro’s … Continue reading “The Year of the Venezuelan Tiger / Ivan Garcia #Cuba”
On May 5, Liu Santiesteban, from Havana but living in Spain, sent seven questions to Ivan for an interview in his blog, Todo el mundo habla (The Whole World Talks). Ivan does not like to be interviewed, he said that journalists are for interviewing, not being interviewed. But a week later, he sent back the … Continue reading ““In the environment of Yoani Sanchez, there are people who have an African hatred for me.” / Iván García”
Photos: Francis Sánchez My watch was still running slow, probably because I needed to change the battery, so I went looking for a watchmakers when, about to turn a corner, I noticed that I was passing in front of a sort of bunkhouse, tenement block or similar poor dwelling. I remembered that there, years ago, … Continue reading “Lead Us Not Into Temptation / Francis Sánchez”
NOVEMBER ESLINDA Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo There is a month in the world when I watch a Cuba film. I watch it in a paleolithic format, on VHS, the only one that preserved the greys from the actual film, without the high contrasts of digital copies. A Cuban film from the ’70s and, as such, … Continue reading “A SOLACE OF SANDALWOOD / Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo”
One Anyone seeing all six-feet-eight of him go by, looking like a basketball forward, would never guess his true profession and what he cares about. Unless he puts on, obviously, the huge white coat he wears which marks him as a saver of lives. His name: Fernando Mederos. For a long time he’s been the … Continue reading “Who Said All Is Lost? / Ernesto Morales Licea”
Friday, July 2, while waiting at the Cinemateca to see the French film Rapt (Kidnapping), I was surprised by the commotion of chairs, books and the songs of Joan Manuel Serrat on the Spanish poet Miguel Hernandez, a recurrent figure in Cuban publishing houses, which they were celebrating on another Book Night at 31 points … Continue reading “Authors Blessed and Authors Proscribed”
