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Ángel González, Spanish English poet

" do not know if you know the poet Ángel González . " For my part I remember some of his verses, including acquaintances of his first book, "Rough world" (1956), popularized in the Metro de Madrid, in its campaign disclosure of Reading:

To which I call Angel Gonzalez,
for despite my being on the ground, it was necessary

a wide space and a long time:
men of all sea and every land,
fertile wombs of women and bodies and more
bodies melting into another body incessant
again ...

has now fallen into my hands and read with pleasure a fictionalized biography of the poet, very well written by fellow poet and essayist Luis García Montero. Behind these pages lies a friendship that allows the author a thorough knowledge of the poet, the rise and fall of his memories " only retain a fraction and his " of the poet's family history, threshed, it is understood through a lot of conversation and the glass at home and in the nearby cafeteria Kon Tiki.

I wrote "fictionalized biography," but perhaps I should say poetic biography, as García Montero reached in his narrative tone the lyrical prose that few writers can go, tinged with a touch of irony that are only able to achieve the best.

As told in the book - his childhood, painful, almost pathetic .- and the verses are interspersed in the text, Angel González I think a poet intimate and chaste, "Modesty is one of the characteristics of the poems of Angel Gonzalez, who tries to hide the most powerful feelings under irony and humor "(p.111)

Nobody bathes twice in the same river. Except the very poor

Nobody gets twice in the same predicament.
(except the Marxist-Leninist)

I told-I am excited about your eyes.

And she said - Do you like alone or with mascara?
-Big
answered without hesitation. And no doubt

I left them on a plate and went groping

Angel Gonzalez was born in Oviedo in 1925 into a family tradition of teaching. In Spain at the time, interest in education was an almost revolutionary. His maternal grandfather, Manuel Muniz, and his father, Pedro González Bueno, " the two most important dead life, did he ever know, (some people death can not still living in the house after the disappearance) were teachers and so was his sister Molly. His mother, Maria Muñiz was a housewife who was afraid of wind, thunder and war.

I remember my mother was afraid of the wind
,
was small in stature,
you frightened of thunder and war

was always far temiéndolas


since before the last break

the treaty signed by all ministers of foreign affairs

His two older brothers, Pedro and Manuel were advanced ideas. Pedro got into the revolution and lost. After the war he was exiled. Until 1960 he never saw the mother ("I saw my brother as a giant" 1). Manuel had even worse luck. Although not involved in politics Falangists found him trying to get out of Oviedo and shot him.

Lives are summarized in a sequel paper. The family of Angel Gonzalez are stored in a blue folders that have stood the test of time (not all papers burned at the stake of the time. What really burns human life "p.21).

Angel child sees and hears the words of the elders who " are left floating in the air from one room to mingle with the light in memory of children's words, names, family histories, the smells of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen, the street noises are part of the land on which one learns to walk "(p.81).

All children are alike. In the infancy of Angel Gonzalez are also yours and mine, the reader. The memories of the child Angel González bring me own. The big house their "little secrets children confused with the world" (p. .82) the light coming through the window, the loving care of the mother, the sun on the terrace, dinner table conversations, people passing ... Child who listens attentively, passing unnoticed by the older adult can listen. " The good listener attends to the words with the gesture, hands, lips and turns his silence as an act of respect and love, a way of caring for others, understood, wait ... , then you know that, because knowing that is not exactly the same as knowing about "(p.60).

The history of childhood Angel walk down memory. " Childhood is a time frozen, solid, compact, so that gas may be brought forward brother remember him after years " (p.100).

Angel's entrance to school is an entry in time and space unknown. The first day of school is imprinted strongly in our memories. All baby comes first warning " sly fox's eyes and nails of the lion in the smiles of his fellow strangers, which they greeted each other, cheerful and insolent, as a wildlife cahoots from the previous year (p .93).

All children are alike. In the photograph of her freshman year, I recognize the faces, the poses of the kids in my school, twenty years later. Children playing soccer with balls made of paper and suffer Latin declensions.

Angel Gonzalez, an early reader. " The boy had learned from his mother and sister that particular ligament that connects the eyes to the pages of a book and the heart to the eyes, and heart ideas" (p.126). During the war, in a desolate, ruined city, the poet begin to read the classics, Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Shakespeare, Stendhal, " Less The judge's wife, read them all!. There were available in bookstores, and very cheap 2 "

" Few things are saved of this tough law. Cities are one of those things, because they mix the times, extending the reality, and what has gone live with what remains, what is born, to which imposes a firm way their presence "(p. 106)

" Doctor in Oviedo and in their tracks " 3 , Gonzalez in his poetry evokes the city of his born:

City sunny dirty tiles:
about you actually, just nest
just a rumor, a smoke
detached from the walls green and amazed

"Growing up is a task difficult, a fatality, an obligation to ask not only where we go, but we come from, and these questions are like stones falling in the tranquility of the lake and fill it concerns water "p.136). For spectacular discoveries, which we will in store every age and difficult, often heroic conquest, that of our successive realities as we grow older. " To live is to take sides, choose between slow and fast, between left and right, between night and day, between cats and dogs " (p.183).

"Outside life, nothing gather on Earth" (p. 229). Angel, a child of nine and ten years, you know life, filtered through the conversations between his older brothers, then the memory is selected and cut out the truth and makes the lies, imaginations and become part forgetfulness of that reality and the poet become literary.

The objectives of the future are fixed in the short to medium term: "You future call / because they never come "

Si;
finally the day has gone. Much
was not (did not bring anything);
Lost forever ago it was finally lost

dead which was killed

War. " War is a bottomless pit, a bag in which everything fits, noise, oil stains, the smell of gunpowder, glass trembling, crack crystals, glass breaking, fears, ways of knocking called strong, weak calls, unanswered calls, new friends, morning sun, endless vacation, surprises and customs, concerns and calm, turmoil and loneliness, and lightning tragedies such, findings, losses, empty words, words, destroyed, appropriate words, silences fuller account, secrets, queues, rationing, power outages, hours of thirst and a long, sharp, proud, random stitching with strong thread events and emotions, timing and emotional scars to weave the vertigo of a present too fragile and holes possessed some memories, unpredictable and solids that are owners of memory, in the first or last row, for too long "(p.212).

The civil war left its mark on the character and poetry of Angel Gonzalez. Like many of his generation was touched by the war, more than many others because large losses were irreplaceable family: his older brother, Manolo, shot, his other brother, Pedro, exile and his sister, Molly, deprived of school he owned.

" War is a bottomless pit in which fits the comedy and tragedy, ridicule and dignity, the storm clouds and sunny skies, children with the barbarity of the largest and the same children who are glad suspended classes in schools or institutes, the boy who is haunted by the uniforms and the same boy who learns to play guitar through a regular sergeant, a teenager who is evicted from his house when the neighborhood becomes a field battle and the teens who collect shells and play with the treasures that the fight has hidden under the grass or behind a glass window without local abandoned. In the course of the war float good days and dangerous eddies, paper boats and broken beams in a bombing. War is a bottomless pit in which everything is precipitated, but in the end only a sediment is stark and dark, a fool mud, marking the days, days without war, the years of peace, and takes over, the character I drown, and clears the anecdotes, the findings, the miseries, joys, to impose an inheritance ocher which confused forever, life, fear, anger and desire to mourn. "(p.214).

The stories never end unhappily. As hard or more that war is the war, although " there are shades of horror, a painful situation is the same as a tragedy " (p.337)

After eating both of twelve
crabs someone said to Pilate:
- what do we do now? He
hesitated, and answered
(polite, distant, indifferent)
"Boy, you do what you want.
I wash my hands .

The long war. Forties. Oviedo in ruins. A poor prognosis: TB in extreme fear is not overcome, the only recourse is to think of anything "(p.363). Ángel disease counseling, seeking a high, dry climate, its march Sil Paramo, where his sister acts as teacher, long convalescence until healing, studied law and journalism, but that is another story, after the story of his childhood told (why modesty?) in this book through a third person.

Angel Gonzalez served as the Technical Officer of the Civil Administration in the Ministry of Public Works (Head of Bureau initiatives), where he was partner and friend of Juan García Hortelano (mornings file, evenings phrase ") and Jaime Lorenzo, was a friend of his friends Manuel Lombardero, Caballero Bonald and many more.

Angel, "writes Benjamin Prado April, on the death of the poet, January 12, 2008 - it was a pessimist wanting to remain a long time, but death at the end of a decent life, arrived first. Her ashes are in Oviedo, next to his mother.

Ángel González is a wonderful poet who read his verses to remember:

I regret so much useless complaint

so much temptation out of order.
are the rules of the game appealed
and justify all, any loss.
Now
only unexpected or impossible
could make me mourn.
A resurrection, no death

Manuel

© Martínez Bargueño
August 2010

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NOTES

1 Juan Cruz " Ángel González, Poet ." El País 13 January 2008.

2 Juan Cruz, see note above.

3 Juan Cruz, see note above.

4 Benjamin Prado. " With doubts but despair." El País, January 13, 2008