started translating in Mexico City in
the early 1990s. Mexico City is Mexico's capital, but it's not
analogous to Washington DC or, say, Ottowa, Canada. The megalopolis,
"the endless city," as Carlos Monsivaís calls
Mexico City, is like Washington DC, New York, Boston, Chicago,
Miami and Los Angeles, all piled into one. In other words, its
the political capital, financial capital, publishing capital,
cultural capital, and television and movie capital. Oh, and business
capital, too. Yes, there are other important cities in Mexico,
and they have become more important in many ways, and some of
them have some excellent writers and poets. But Mexico City is
Back in the early 1990s, the ruling party, the PRI or Partido
Revolucionario Institucional or Institutional Revolutionary Party
was in power, about to enter the last decade of its more than
70 yes, 70years in power. How did it last so long?
There are many answers to that question but the main one relevant
for our topic at hand is that the PRI attempted to bring everyone,
whether farmers, campesinos, industrialists or intellectuals,
and that would include poets and writers, under its own big tent.
It had its ways. Stick and carrot or bone, as Mexicans
like to say.
You may be aware that after two consecutive presidential administrations
under the PAN or the Partido Acción Nacional, over the
past decade, Mexico's Presidency has since returned to the PRI.
But it's not exactly a return to the past. Not exactly.
I'm not going to get all political on you, I simply want to underline
the fact that back in early 1990s, the Mexican literary establishment,
concentrated in Mexico City, was heavily influenced by and subsidized
by the PRI government. Just to give you a notion of this: If
you were to go into a library and look at some back issues of
the leading Mexican literary and intellectual magazine of the
time of course that would be Octavio's Paz's Letras
Libres you would see a large number of advertisements
from government-owned entities and Televisa, the party-allied
television conglomerate. There were literary gatekeepers, as
there are everywhere in this world, but in Mexico City at that
time, they were ginormously powerful. Octavio Paz was king.
Though Octavio Paz met his maker some years ago, in some ways
things remain the same. Mexico City is where it's at. The government
still plays an important, though lesser role. Letras Libres
remains a leading magazine of influence, and in fact it does
publish some of the best writing you'll find anywhere.
But since the early 1990s there have been political and economic
sea-changes in Mexico. Power is more dispersed. Other political
parties have become far more powerful. On the right and the left
they rival the PRI and on many an occasion, beat the PRI at the
And even more than the political and economic changes, the technological
changes have been sea-changes. I'm talking about the rise of
digital media, from blogging to YouTube, podcasting, Tweeting,
FaceBooking, and publishing and by the way, amazon is now
in Mexico with www.amazon.com.mx.
To find a Mexican writer to translate, you no longer have to
travel to Mexico City and get chummy with the powers that be
who can make recommendations and, perhaps, invite the anoited
to tea. Now, say, from Boston or Hong Kong or Cleveland, you
can follow any given Mexican writer's blog, and comment thereupon.
Or, say, send her a Tweet!
I would love to tell you the story of how, in the late 1990s,
I started my bilingual magazine, Tameme,
which published many Mexican writers, and my experiences with
putting together the anthology, Mexico:
A Traveler's Literary Companion no easy task, since
the idea of the TLC series is to provide writing about the whole
country and that would include writing from and about Baja
California, Yucatan, Chiapas, Chihuahua...
At present I am translating a batch of Mexican writers: Ignacio
Solares, a novelist born in Ciudad Juárez and is based
in Mexico City; Agustín
Cadena, who was born in the state of Hidalgo and is living
in Hungary; Araceli
Ardón who was born in San Miguel de Allende and lives
in Querétaro; and yet another, Rose
Mary Salum, who is from Mexico City and now based in Houston,
But I don't want to take time from my fellow panelists and what
I hope will be a rich question and answer session. The main thing
I want to emphasize is that, although there may not be much money
in this game, the fact is, we, as translators, can play a powerful
role in influencing who and who is not read in English.
Who to translate? It's good to ask for advice from the powers
that be of the literary establishment in, say, Mexico or Cuba
or Chile, and maybe even choose to translate one of them. They
might be blast-your-wig-to-the-asteroid-belt fabulous! But we
also have to recognize that there are power structures in literary
communities, some of them entangled with political structures,
and we need to acknowledge and examine, in our own minds, and
our own hearts, what part we play in that or choose not to play.