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Indio Gris
FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2002 WE
DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
INDIO
GRIS, IS A PRODUCT INDIO GRIS Nº 118 YEAR III EDITORIAL INTERVIEW
WITH THE POET MIGUEL OSCAR MENASSA Carmen
Salamanca: Is it a different position when one reads than when one writes? Miguel
Oscar Menassa: Of course, but there is not much difference, in the sense
that a piece of writing shows how you have processed a reading. When you like
one of my poems, for example, one of those poems which apparently deal with
reality, you like it because there is something that you would have liked to do
(I say you, because you are a poet) and up to now it hasn't occurred to you. A
good saying about reality, that is a good way of reading, so, I show you how I
have processed the reading of that reality. It doesn't mean that you don't have
the capacity of writing, what you lack sometimes, is a good processing of
reality, of the reading, because the problem doesn't lie in the writing (not in
you, because you write very well). Well, this that happens to you sometimes, it
almost always happens with our Spanish contemporaries. CS:
There are problems with the processing of reading. MOM:
In the reading itself. I can stand how some write (who write quite badly), but
how they read, what ideology they convey, that I don't like very much. Against
that, can we demand from our writers not to transmit their illness, why not?
Yes, we can. If society gave them the responsibility of writing, of being
transmitters of what is happening, they should try not to transmit to the
future, only the illness they suffer from, they should have some approach to
social reality, to the scientific reality of this era. CS:
A little of piety. "I ask God for mercy, for soul, for a little of soul to
reach the end of the month" I
want to paint, you say. I have been watching the window glasses of the billiard,
meaning, I have been watching you paint during eight, nine years. MOM:
I liked watching more than playing, when I wished very intensely to play, I
appeared on the other side playing. Did you learn anything? Yes, why? Because I
was going to play, but that I can say afterwards, because if I had never played
billiards, I wouldn't have been able to learn anything just watching, we would
never have known if I would have learnt something or not. What
do the girls say about the movie realizations we are doing? CS:
They are happy. MOM:
But, what things do they flatter? CS:
The strength of these things. They told me that they are crazy looking for
material to make documentaries, we, instead, have enough subject matters to
reach the next century. MOM:
You could make a documentary about me, "A day with Menassa". CS:
No, about life. MOM:
Well, about life. Listen one thing from me, now I have been a poet for 40
years, when I was about 20 or 25 years as a poet, there was a woman who said:
"An anthology of your work can't be done without showing that you generated
persons, that you generated a school". That happened when I was celebrating
25 years with writing. And she already thought that, besides one's work, social
work was the most important thing to do. CS:
So, your work extended. MOM:
A creator, a cultured man, can convey that culture to a lot of people, whom,
without creation, would never reach to acquire it. Then, what I can't understand
is why the states give so little importance to creation. Because (supposing I
were a good painter), if I am a good painter, I should master the painting of
all my contemporaries, and some painters from this century and from the last
century, as well. It's OK, the guy has access to nothing, but if he could have
access, if I put this at the reach of his hands, at the price of a kilo of
tomatoes, if I offer the art schools to a son from a Villamiseria (slums in
Argentina) or from a chabola (slums in Spain) so that he can afford the price I
offer (because the state has realised that an art school brings wisdom and
education) and so I put Art Schools at the reach of children from the
Villamiseria, they may rob me some canvasses, they may rob me some colour, but
there will be great painters, and besides there will be not only great painters,
but also people that would become cultured. Because, apart, the difficulty of
painting, makes me value the painting of others. Because you say: how do you
dare to do that?, but, why do you say that to me? Because you wanted to do it
the other day and you couldn't do it. Apart,
I don't know if it can be said that painting a large painting, because of the
way of using the painting, at the same time I painted three smaller paintings. I
don't know if it can be said. You know that I'm right because if we find out
that this is aesthetic, that you like and you are no fool, the painting costs a
certain amount, the paints cost a certain amount, it took you an hour and a half
to paint it, how much? Well, 120 Euros that I for sure have to sell at 3,000
Euros. Do you see that 3,000 Euros is unaffordable? We have made it unaffordable
to half of the humanity, let's see if you can understand that. Instead, if we
put it at a reasonable price, I know that there are people who are unable to buy
potatoes, but if we put it at a reasonable price we increase the rate to 80% of
the humanity. And
it is not little. When
we looked within other men and women When
we looked within other men and women, When
we looked within other horizons, roads, It
was nothingness what we were looking for when we searched, We
handed one another with slowness, DARLING, I
understand it, little girl, in the midst of so much light, no one will be able
to beg for candles. A
going around along the most remote galleries of memory. Everything that couldn't
be due to the great waterfalls of oblivion. Those waves, those springs which if
illuminated would have been the whole universe. Skies
wrapped in gods disturbed by love, perfect cosmic skies adulterated by goodness. Immaculate
beasts, screams of the lost time of love. Blackened
voluptuous passage, your blinded body. Lastly,
darling, I am, to say goodbye till the next time, a white enamoured stallion, of
the prairie that it traverses with its singing. An eagle which falls in love
with the wind, which, with its ferocity, breaks it in twos when it flies.
-
Look, doctor, I'm reaching the bottom because of a foolishness. They love
each other and they desire one another, so I can't understand why the encounters
are so difficult. Why is love among more than two persons so immoral for our
culture? I don't know, I don't know, any other perversion as bad as it may look,
receives some sort of social protection. But in my case, doctor, a healthy man,
who having psychoanalysed, as I did, the relation with his mother and can love
two people at the same time, it is something that no one can tolerate, not even
the actors of that passion are able to tolerate it. When
the two of us are in solitude, she always loves me. Taking advantage of her
docility in these cases, I will have to invent the multiple monogamy. Different
relations, but as if all were the only one. Different
women, different relations, but all suffering from the same disease. A certain
resistance to turn completely the relation to the word, to humanity. -
We'll
continue the next time.
Slightly,
I went on pushing her towards the women toilette. She had on a very short skirt,
so I immediately reached her pussy. At this point, she embraced me and sighed. While
I suavely caressed her between her legs, she started to sigh, to my
understanding, in a loud way considering the place where we were, locked in one
of the small rooms of the ladies' toilette. The
situation turned me mad, and thinking that she would like to see how my dick had
become because of her sighs, I undid my fly and she put her hand inside and
started to cry: -
Look, what a dick you have! It is huge. And
while she sat on the toilette and started to lick it, she continued saying
between her teeth, while she licked it: -
What a dick, but what a dick you have. I
let her lick it, but I couldn't stop thinking in this young woman, just the way
she was licking it at me, could change my life. She
felt herself loved, after so many men, for the first time, and she enjoyed as
ever and she loved me and wanted to offer me everything and I told her yes, so
that she might have her first orgasm, but I took nothing. She
embraced me hard and she felt as if she were embraced to a torrent of light and
she came and did it in two or three languages, there, embraced to me, quiet,
illuminated. I stained all her dress with scented semen and she asked me to let
her drink some drops of my semen, and she absorbed me as if my body were a lemon
sherbet.
1 To
do good, doing myself good, this is the clue of Christian humanism. 2 We
have arrived somewhere. A roaming about eccentric to oneself, this is the road
to poetry. 3 Everything
there was in the world was meant nothing to him. He was guided only by his
religious beliefs, which, on the other hand, didn't coincide with none of the
religions. 4 To
abolish the truth of money by possessing it. 5 We
were young, now we are old, in our field, some young people will make a living
out of our work. People
think terrible things of other people. We
were wrapped in a thick fog, we saw a bundle, hither and thither, around us, a
body lying over another body, but we couldn't recognise each other. This
way twenty years went by. We
had done everything to one another, usurpation of tittles and honours, contempt,
swindle, direct stealing and, once in a while, we made love. But no one realised
anything, we were also blind. The
mist was neither for us. We
were indifferent to what would happen in reality, it was more or less the same
for us. We
said poor people and the people were us.
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