“There is a mysterious fire in her chest,” the groundbreaking feminist Bolivian poet Adela Zamudio (1854-1928) wrote in a work whose title declares, with blunt force, how she viewed herself: “Poet.” That “mysterious fire,” a few lines later, is called “sacred,” the “shard of a shattered soul,” and the very “blood of the heart.” For Zamudio, that fire was both Art itself and “the Idea,” and the act of pulling it out from one’s self and giving it voice in a society hostile to artists in general, poets in particular, and women above all else—well, that was an act of courage.
Now, almost a century after her death, Zamudio’s rousing, visceral, defiant work is at last available to the English-speaking world, thanks to this searing, sensitive translation from Yetter.
Yetter’s choices—from individual word choices to her selections of poems and prose pieces—illuminate the sweep and heat of the fire in the poet’s chest. The pieces here reveal Zamudio’s passions, interests, beliefs, and career, from the powerfully explicated feminism of poems like “Born a Man,” to her handling of subjects like depression and the feeling that one must wear a false face in society. These verses feel urgent and timely, and poems like “Masquerade” could be about Instagram: “In the dance of the world /our joy / is a dazzling garment /of fantasy / we use to cover /the hidden sadness / we repress.”
Even poems with traditional romantic forms and subjects (“To a Seagull,” “To a Tree”) pulse with a sense of fin-de-siècle ennui and, often, outrage about injustice, while one literally titled “End of a Century” builds to the bleak punchline of what “admirable and blessed” science has bequeathed us: the knowledge that, after our sufferings on Earth, we face the void. The long, surprising “Iron Crazy Woman,” meanwhile, and a poem of love for Zamudio’s sister, offer crucial consolations: the mystery and artistry of the former, and the deep feeling of the latter.
Takeaway: Trailblazing poems from a Bolivian feminist in English at long last.
Comparable Titles: Gabriela Mistral, Rosario Castellanos.
KIRKUS Starred Review
A collection of writings from Bolivian poet, essayist, and feminist activist Zamudio (1854-1928) addresses enduring social issues.
Though the bulk of the author’s body of work, which spans poetry, prose, and nonfiction, dates back a century or more (the pieces here were originally published between 1887 and 1942), it’s only recently that political and social conditions have renewed interest in her writings and facilitated their translations for a global audience. This collection has two sections, one for poetry and one for prose, focused on themes including feminism (“Born a Man”), Indigenous identity and revolution (“End of the Century”), mental health (“To a Suicide”), and the viability of a battered society (“Masquerade”)—subjects that Zamudio grappled with as a woman far ahead of her time, culturally speaking. Yetter’s translations aptly retain the exigencies of the author’s writing, though the poems do lose their rhyme schemes in English. In the prose section, Zamudio employs an almost epistolary, introspective style to document many of Bolivia’s societal and political foibles; one story—“Yesterday’s Meeting”—uses an animal motif (much like George Orwell later used in Animal Farm (1945)) to relay bureaucratic tensions and flaws in democracy. Zamudio employs the struggles of women and Indigenous people as fodder, both for her own work and for broader revolution. Her imagery is both whimsical and grounded, optimistic and learned; as she writes in “Poet,” “it is necessary that she must dive into / Life’s most bitter dregs; / To know horrid misfortune / And rugged paths; / Hurt by life’s cliffs and thistles, / Wounded by the shocks of life. / That is inspiration!” We watch and read the news to understand what’s going on in the world, but we also seek out art to contextualize how all these events make us feel and show us how to get through them; Zamudio’s work serves these purposes brilliantly.
Confident, stirring writing by a prescient poet.
