6XUUHDOLVPLQ/DWLQ$PHULFDQ/LWHUDWXUH6HDUFKLQJIRU%UHWRQ·V*KRVW

E\0HODQLH1LFKROVRQUHYLHZ

0DQXHO*XWLpUUH]

5HYLVWDGH(VWXGLRV+LVSiQLFRV7RPR;/,;1~PHUR0DU]RSS
5HYLHZ

3XEOLVKHGE\:DVKLQJWRQ8QLYHUVLW\LQ6W/RXLV
'2, KWWSVGRLRUJUYV

)RUDGGLWLRQDOLQIRUPDWLRQDERXWWKLVDUWLFOH
KWWSVPXVHMKXHGXDUWLFOH

Access provided by Fondren Library, Rice University (29 Oct 2016 03:25 GMT)
Sección Bibliográfica 205

to think that perhaps that final “and” should be “an.” Another error, appearing on
pages 180–82, transposes the captions under color reproductions of Aurelio Arteta’s
“Tríptico de la Guerra” (1937), so that the image of the Basque militiaman fighting
on the front lines is identified with the caption, “La retaguardia,” while the poi-
gnant painting of a dying mother and her child, who languish among their livestock
in a devastated Basque countryside, is placed at “El frente.” These are two of several
minor editorial oversights (spelling and accentuation on 35, 36, 182, 186, awkward
phrasing on 210: “through this case study is possible to understand”) that by no
means detract from the excellence and authority of this fine collection of essays.

WORKS CITED
Català Doménech, Josep M. Pasión y conocimiento: El nuevo realismo melodramático.
Madrid: Cátedra, 2009. Print.
Labanyi, Jo. “Testimonies of Repression: Methodological and Political Issues.”
Unearthing Franco’s Legacy: Mass Graves and the Recovery of Historical Memory
in Spain. Ed. Carlos Jerez-Farrán & Samuel Amago. Notre Dame, Ind: U of
Notre Dame P, 2010. 192–205. Print.
Singer, Ben. Melodrama and Modernity: Early Sensational Cinema and Its Contexts.
New York: Columbia UP, 2001. Print.

Samuel Amago The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

Nicholson, Melanie. Surrealism in Latin American Literature: Searching for

Breton’s Ghost. New York. Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. 267 pp.

Surrealism in Latin American Literature maps the transatlantic network

of intellectual exchange that brought surrealism “across the pond” to Latin Amer-
ica. The organizing premise of this critical cartography may be inferred from the
book’s subtitle: “Searching for Breton’s Ghost.” According to Melanie Nicholson,
surrealism—as an actitud vital or attitude—enjoyed a rich “afterlife” in Mexico,
Argentina, Peru and Chile long after the historical movement’s initial impetus had
floundered and its founders had passed. Across this region, the movement’s aes-
thetic practices and political ideals were transformed and reinvigorated in unexpect-
ed ways. Demonstrating that a “genuinely distinctive” Latin American surrealism
emerged, Nicholson proves surrealism played a significant role in the development
of Latin American literature (31). Yet, despite the movement’s importance to the
region’s literary, artistic and cultural history, some scholars have minimized surre-
alism’s impact, going as far as to suggest that, aside from a few minor poets, the
movement failed to gain a footing in Latin America. Analyzing Latin American po-
ets’ interest in the ideas and activities of surrealism, Nicholson demonstrates pre-
cisely how a proliferation of critiques, homages and reappraisals of the movement
206 Sección Bibliográfica

emerged. Whether against or in favor of surrealism’s tenets, this interchange ulti-

mately enriched continental surrealism’s orthodoxy and, throughout Latin America,
spurned a more complex iteration of the movement’s primary doctrines.
Given the flurry of publications and retrospectives that in the last three
years alone have sought to trace the legacy of surrealism to Latin America, Nich-
olson’s incisive study is a necessary and timely one that undoes current trends that
center on surrealism’s impact on the visual arts. For example, The Getty Institute’s
recent publications Surrealism In Latin America: Vivísimo Muerto (2012) and Fare-
well to Surrealism: The Dyn Circle in Mexico (2012) are two contributions that reg-
ister US interest in Latin American Surrealism. This attention was furthered by the
massively successful cross-border retrospective organized by the Los Angeles Coun-
ty Museum of Art (LACMA) and Mexico’s Instituto de Bellas Artes (INBA) titled
In Wonderland: The Surrealist Adventure of Women Artists in Mexico and the United
States (2012). A similar phenomenon is taking place in Latin America. Last year
Mexico’s Museo Nacional de Arte (MUNAL) exhibited the monumental Surrealis-
mo: Vasos Comunicantes (2012), a retrospective of the movement through an inter-
nationalist lens that emphasized the presence of European Surrealists in Mexico.
While in Chile, the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (MNBA) opened the year with
Papeles Surrealistas. Dibujos y pinturas del surrealismo en las Colecciones del MNBA
(2013). Accompanying most of these exhibitions were a slew of conferences dedi-
cated to correcting the record and asserting that indeed surrealism had no nation-
ality, boundaries or limits and that in its extensive history, Latin America played
a central role. Yet, the focus of these efforts has been primarily on the visual arts,
lending only minimal attention to literature. In fact, though many of these exhibits
have acknowledged the importance of poets like César Moro and Octavio Paz in
spreading surrealism, these figures have only been treated as conduits for the visual
arts’ larger connection to the movement. Furthermore, though some recent critical
monographs have centered on a specific author’s relationship to surrealism, no over-
arching study has yet to account for the movement’s reception and transformation
across Latin American literature. Nicholson’s book successfully fills this void.
In charting surrealism’s reception, Nicholson divides her study into two
chronological divisions: an early period of “assimilation” of French surrealism
(1928-50) and a later era of “creative adaptation” (1950-80) (34). The initial pe-
riod was characterized by two opposing tendencies. First, an enthusiastic embrace of
André Breton’s ideals and, second, an outright rejection of his philosophy. Explor-
ing self through language while celebrating surrealism’s spirit of revolt against bour-
geois values, Latin American avant-garde poets welcomed surrealism’s commitment
to liberty and playful exploration with form. Examples of Latin American enthusi-
asm for surrealism can be drawn from literary journals including the Argentine Que
(1928/30), the Chilean Mandragora (1938-43) and the Peruvian Amauta (1926-
30). These journals informed readers of French surrealism’s main tenets and also
provided a space for poets to essay some of the movement’s practices. Still, leading
intellectuals who were primarily concerned with fostering a proper Latin American
tradition eschewed the movement’s ludic experimentation. One of the movement’s
most fervid critics was César Vallejo; he immediately warned artists and authors
Sección Bibliográfica 207

that the movement was a walking “corpse.” For Vallejo, who embraced socialism
and experienced the political anxieties of the 1930s, surrealism proved to be “inef-
fectual as a vehicle for political revolution” (100).
According to Nicholson, Breton’s ideals were perhaps most fervently re-
jected in Post-Revolutionary Mexico. Involved in national reconstruction through-
out the 1920s and early 1930s, few artists or poets paid attention to the move-
ment. Though poets such as Xavier Villaurrutia and Jorge Cuesta took stock of the
movement and even adapted some of its practices, generally, Mexican intellectuals
ignored surrealism. Nevertheless, Mexico still played an important role in the move-
ment’s history as many surrealists visited the country, often seeking refuge. Surreal-
ist exiles and pilgrims, including Antonin Artaud, André Breton, Wolfgang Paalen
and Leonora Carington, considered Mexico their home. Although the movement
did not have an immediate impact on the post revolutionary cultural field, surreal-
ism left an indelible mark on Mexico, coming to fruition in the work of Octavio
Paz.
The second half of this study offers brilliant close readings of Olga Orozco,
Alejandra Pizarnik, Nicanor Parra, Gonzalo Rojas and Octavio Paz. Nicholson ex-
plains that, offering alternatives for facing contemporary society, surrealism became
a form of “new humanism.” During this later period, Latin American Surrealism
“exceeded” earlier appropriations of the movement in originality and literary qual-
ity. Moving away from some of the surrealist practices yet embracing its general phi-
losophy, Latin American surrealists reimagined Breton’s poetics and ideals in their
own ways. Nicholson cites key examples and presents clear and incisive interpreta-
tions of the many important poets that created their own surrealism. This section is
brilliant in its scope and offers some of the book’s most fascinating moments.
Notwithstanding the impressive scope of this survey, a few missed oppor-
tunities should be noted. Though Nicholson acknowledges the many sites where
surrealism emerged, her study privileges a few key countries while overlooking
surrealism’s reach into Central America, the Caribbean and Brazil. Furthermore,
though its focus is on Spanish-speaking Latin America, one is left to wonder what
francophone surrealists in the region contributed to surrealism’s legacy. A case in
point is Haiti, where, by many accounts, Breton’s visit and lectures contributed to
the intellectual opposition of the 1940s. Additionally, Nicholson largely bypasses
the Caribbean, providing only preliminary remarks on the Martinican poet Aimé
Césaire, an important figure whose surrealist connections deserved more attention.
Finally, Luis Cardoza y Aragón’s importance to surrealism in Mexico and Central
America is never addressed and the one appearance the poet makes in this history
is only to erroneously signal his rejection of the movement. Cardoza y Aragón was
among the very few Latin American poets that André Breton met in Paris and per-
haps the earliest to register surrealism in his poetry. The Guatemalan did not reject
surrealism at large, but rather the political opportunism that characterized the Mex-
ican Surrealist exhibit of 1940. In fact, Cardoza y Aragón repeatedly declared him-
self more surrealist than surrealism and wrote several essays about André Breton.
Of course, it is impossible for any history of surrealism in Latin America to cover
every facet, but attention to these cases would strengthen Nicholson’s argument and
208 Sección Bibliográfica

perhaps complicate her interpretation of surrealism in Mexico. Yet, these are only
minor and debatable gripes about an otherwise fast-moving, anecdote-rich and im-
pressive study.
Surrealism in Latin American Literature masterfully pieces the disparate
Latin American literary magazines, manifestos, essays and poems that, through-
out the twentieth century, engaged with the movement. Building on a vast archive
of scholarship that in the past has focused on individual authors or national lit-
eratures, Nicholson’s fine effort places—into loose chronological order—the various
surrealist poets that populated the continent into one coherent, comprehensive and
suggestive study. In doing so, she proves that surrealism was just as vital to literature
as it was to the visual arts and that indeed this actitud vital was far from being the
“corpse” that some critics have preferred to see. Thus in scope, breadth and insight,
Surrealism in Latin American Literature is already the most important history of the
movement in Latin America.

Manuel Gutiérrez Rice University

Orloff, Carolina. The Representation of the Political in Selected Writings of

Julio Cortázar. London: Tamesis, 2013. 224 pp.

The relationship between literature and politics in the works of Argentine

writer Julio Cortázar was, to say the least, difficult. A self-described “elitist,” he left
Argentina because, in his own words, after the advent of Peronism in the 1940s he
could not listen to the composer Alban Berg anymore. However, Cortázar always
claimed that his exile in Paris, and, especially, his visit to Cuba in 1962, allowed
him to go from being a Latin American writer to being a Latin American (citizen)
who wrote. In The Representation of the Political in Selected Writings of Julio Cortázar,
Carolina Orloff states that this evolution from anti-Peronist to socialist has been
read through a “chronological political binary” (2), which has been reinforced by
almost all criticism of his works. Her contention, nonetheless, is that “a political
element can be traced throughout Cortázar’s writings, from the very first texts” (3).
To prove this point, Orloff selected as her corpus all of Cortázar’s novels,
two collage books (Último round and La vuelta al día en ochenta mundos) and some
of his critical output and letters. She left out the short stories because “no compa-
rable evolution to the one carried out here has been traced within the short stories”
(4). It should be pointed out that such claims dismiss too easily the political—in
the broad sense Orloff uses the term—and aesthetic complexity of not only the
well-known stories, but also of texts such as the ones found in Historias de cronopios
y famas, Un tal Lucas, or even in Cortázar poetry.
To carry on her textual and cultural analysis, Orloff follows a Marxist line
of analysis that claims that fiction is always mediated by ideology. The first chapter,
“The Anti-Peronist Years,” focuses on the early novels of the fifties (published after
Cortázar’s death) and on Los premios (1960). Orloff bases her interpretation mainly
on El examen, but shows convincingly that Diario de Andrés Fava and Divertimento