8/18/2020

Revista Turnrow de la Universidad de Louisiana. Poemas de Carlos Rodríguez



Turnrow.Vol.1.no.2. Winter 2001
La Revista "Turnrow "de la Universidad de Louisiana publico a raíz de la partida del poeta Carlos Rodríguez, una amplia selección de poemas del autor con una presentación que le hace mucha justicia al poeta dominicano, de quien se afirma “No se sintió acosado por la insuficiencia del lenguaje” … ( He was not beset by the inadequacy of language…)

 Se incluye además una fenomenal descripción además del poeta y del ambiente urbano y la diversidad étnica de entonces.

Un equipo de cuatro traductores trabajó indistintamente diversos poemas de Carlos Rodríguez. La nuestra abre con una foto de Niurka Rodríguez, y diseñada gráficamente por William Ryan. Debajo de la foto un poema en español, que también forma parte de los textos traducido, entre ellos el famoso West End Bar.  El equipo de traductores lo integro por Michael Collins, Barbara Michaelides, Luis Herrera y Sim Shattuck

La introducción crítica de Turnrow sobre Carlos Rodríguez Ortíz


Carlos Rodriguez Ortiz (1951-2001)
Carlos Rodriguez was nineteen when his family emigrated from the Dominican
Republic and clustered next to Riverside Park in the shadow of the el at 125th and
Broadway. It's a diverse neighborhood—Columbia students, old New Yorkers,
Midwestern transplants, immigrants from everywhere, Vietnamese fish market, Ethiopian restaurant, Syrian bakery with the best cinnamon rolls... You can almost see the United States form there—Grant's Tomb, the G. WC Bridge, The Apollo Theater, Jersey across the Hudson as distant as the Orient. A few blocks uptown, you could think you 're in Santo Domingo, signs in Spanish, Caribbean fruits, merengue on the juke, platanos with your eggs, your steak rubbed with a mash of garlic, cilantro and ajicitos. The people of the neighborhood have made the green at Riverside Church into a plaza major, the carillon their certain accompaniment. This was the texture of his obscurity, seen "from a beautiful angle of the tropics.

When Rodriguez won the Prémio Pedro Henriquez Ureña de Poesia in 1994 for El Ojo y Otras Clasificaciones de la Magia and his poems appeared in various Spanish-language anthologies, young Latino poets began to show up at his apartment. Now the hard realism of his steely aesthetic insight came to visit him. After years of menial work, he had found a job he liked, teaching Spanish to physicians. He had published a book, won a national award, and as young adherents appeared at this door, disease began to diminish his good looks, his skin turned sallow, his energy waned, his wit dulled a bit. He wanted to look good for his arrival and be sharp. We are all vain, and Carlos Rodriguez was one of us.
These are our poems that he has written.


He was not beset by the inadequacy of language as are so many opposition poets, but by the lack of distinction between language and its ad campaign for reason, its incessant infomercial for the hermeneutic structures of logical analysis, its exclusive rationalistic methods of meaning. Once a poet abandons reason 's campaign for reason and therefore the circuitous way in which reason proves itself to be reasonably true, he might as well bury his pen in his belly and donate his metonymies to the language of the enemy—if it were not for the way many of us honor the effort, dig up the work and hang it out like a flag for a nation outside of all cultures.







West En Bar 


Traducido por 

Michael Collins 



The West End Bar is a space for dreams. 

Columbia students burst in, couples half-embraced, 

cleaving the air that undulates and whirls 

and forms transparencies, musical clouds, 

the jazz (an ultras ad blues sax) 

and my I, sitting, and my beer. 

Here probably was Lorca, 

monumental and obscure. 

New York is a closed book. 

New York is a drowsy spume. 

Now I find it without warning 

like something that turns into itself 

and sets a course in delirium. 

These are the breathed dreams, 

the incandescence of Manhattan, 

woven long in silence, 

bare food, naïve 

from a beautiful angle of the tropics.





Link de la "Turnrow"

La Revista tiene 158 páginas con lomo delicado
lo que impide escanearlo sin que se afecte
Convertí en gráfica el texto y tipié el poema reproducido
y lo haré en próximas entregas, ya que esta edición al parecer no está
completamente disponible en el link ofrecido arriba,
Es decir, disponemos de la revista físicamente
Agradecimiento, como siempre a Carmen Dorilda Sánchez, 
de quien recibi la Revista. Logre trabajar la gráfica y convertirla
en word. Asi puede ser leida y consultada de forma mas facil por la critica
 y los estudiosos de la obra del poeta Carlos Rodríguez. Disculpas a los lectores
de Miriamventurajournalism por cambios en el formato que no pude resolver.


1 comment:

Natalia Guzmán said...

Grandioso, Miriam. Gracias por contribuir a la difusión de su obra. Un abrazo grande!