'n • t

OPUO.l!D O!.IaA!IO

Oliverio Girondo

S,Qre,row&

other ""omQliel

A Xenos DuaI-Language Edition

translated from the Spanish by

Gilbert AIter-Gilbert

with an anti-preface by

Karl August Kvitko

"XENOS F300Kc:::5

Original texts © Herederos Sucesión Oliverio GirondoContact: Susana. Lange de Maggi susyfjord@tutopia.com

English translation © 2002 by Gilbert Alter-GilbertAll rights reserved

This Xenos Books publication was made possible by a giftfrom the Sonia Raiziss-Giop Charitable Foundation.

Front cover art: Alfredo Castañeda, "Cuando el espejo sueña con otraimagen" (1988), reproduced with permissionfrom The Bonino Gallery,New York, New York.

Back cover: Oliverio Girando, Espanatapájaros (1932); photographcourtesy of El Museo de la Ciudad de Buenos Aires.

Frontispiece: Portrait of Oliverio Girondo, drawing by Carlos Alonso(1970), reproduced witñ the permission 01 the artist.

Book design by Karl Kvitko

2001026983

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publieation DataGirondo, Oliverio, 1891-1967.

[Seleetions, English & Spanish, 2002]Seareerow & other anomalies / Oliverio Girondo ; translated from

the Spanish by Gilbert Alter-Gilbert with an anti-prefaee by KarlAugust Kvitko.

p.em."Xenos dual-language ed."Ineludes bibliographie referenees.ISBN 1-879378-21-3 (pbk.)1. Girondo, Oliverio, 1891-1967--Translations into English.

l. Title: Seareerow & other anomalies. 11. Alter-Gilbert, Gilbert_111. T it le,PQ7797.G535 A23 2001861~.62--de21

Published by Xenos Books, P.O. Box 52152, Riverside, CA 92517.Tel. (909) 370-2229. Website: www.xenosbooks.com.Printed in USA

by Van Volumes Ltd., Three Rivers, MA 01080

(al alcance de todos)SCARECROW

,ESPANTAPAJAROS

Accessible To Al!

Yo no sé nadaTú no sabes nadaUd. no sabe nadaÉl no sabe nadaEllos no saben nadaEllas no saben nadaUds. no saben nada

Nosotros no sabemos nada.

La desorientación de mi generación tiene su explicación en ladirección de nuestra educación, cuya idealización de la acción,era -¡sin discusión! - una mistificación, en contradicción con

nuestra propensión a la meditación, a lacontemplación y a la masturbación.

(Gutural, lo más guturalmenteque se pueda.) Creo que creo

en lo que creo que no creo.y creo que no creo enlo que creo que creo.

«Cantar de las ranas»

¡Y ¡Y ¿A¿A ¡Y ¡Ysu ba llí llá

bo jo es eslas las tá? tá?

es es ¡A ¡Aea ea quí cá

le le no noras ras es es

arri aba tá tába!. .. jo!. . . !.. . !. ..

su babo jo

las lases esea ea

le leras ras

arri ababa!... jo!. ..

[4}

I know nothingYou know nothingThou knowest nothingHe knows nothingMen know nothingWomen know nothingYou all know nothing

None of us knows anything at all.

The disorientation of my generation has its explanationin the direction of our education, whose idealizationof action, was - without question! - a mystification,

in distinction to our passion for meditation,contemplation and masturbation.

above

thestair

waysclimb

ingover

head!

(Guttural, as guttural as can be.)I believe 1 believe in that whichI believe 1 do not believe.And 1 believe I don't believein what 1believe I believe.

"Song of the froggies"

And

Is Isit it

th thither

?It

And

a bebove low

the thestair ladways dersclimb cur

ing vingover underhead! neath!

And

And

below

thelad

derscur

vingunder re

neath! !

ere?It

isn't

he

isn'thi

ther!

[5}

Jamás se había oído el menor roce de cadenas. Las botellas nomanifestaban ningún deseo de incorporarse. Al día siguiente decolocar un botón sobre una mesa, se le encontraba en el mismositio. El vino y los retratos envejecían con dignidad. Eraposible afeitarse ante cualquier espejo, sin que se rasgara a laaltura de la carótida; pero bastaba que un invitado tocase lacampanilla y penetrara en el vestíbulo, para que cometiese losmás grandes descuidos; alguna de esas distracciones imper-donables, que pueden conducirnos hasta el suicidio.

En el acto de entregar su tarjeta, por ejemplo, los visitantes sesacaban los pantalones, y antes de ser introducidos en el salónse subían hasta el ombligo los faldones de la camisa. Al ir asaludar a la dueña de casa, una fuerza irresistible los obligaba asonars~ las narices con los visillos, y al querer preguntarle porsu mando, le preguntaban por sus dientes postizos. A pesar deun enorme esfuerzo de voluntad, nadie llegaba a dominar latentación de repetir: "Cuernos de vaca", si alguien se refería alas señoritas de la casa, y cuando éstas ofrecían una taza de té,los invitados se colgaban de las arañas, para reprimir el deseo demorderles las pantorrillas.

El mismo embajador de Inglaterra, un inglés reseco en elprotocolo, con un bigote usado, como uno de esos cepillos dedientes que se utilizan para embetunar los botines, en vez deaceptar la copa de champagne que le brindaban, se arrodilló enmedio del salón para olfatear las flores de la alfombra, y despuésde aproximarse a un pedestal, levantó la pata como un perro.

[10]

you couIdn't hear a sound, not even a faint rattling of chains.The bottles stood still, showing no desire to move from thespot. The day after a button was put on the table you foundit still in the same place. The wine and the portraits weregaining dignity with age. You couId shave in any mirror with-out fear of running a cut all the way to your carotid; but nosooner had the first guests rung the bell and stepped into thevestibule than they began to commit the most outlandish incivi-lities, each of these unpardonable disturbances driving usdangerously close to an unintended suicide.

During the act of proffering their calling cards, for example, thevisitors fumbled so clumsily that they al! but climbed out oftheir trousers, and they proceeded into the salon with theirshirttails flapping around their navels. As they carnein to greettheir hostess, some irresistible force compelled them to blowtheir noses on the curtains, and when they wanted to inquireabout her husband, they asked about his false teeth instead.Even with the fiercest application of willpower, no one couIdovercome the temptation to repeat "holy cow!" each timesomeone referred to the young ladies of the house; and whenthe latter offered them a cup of tea, the guests climbed up intothe chandeliers to restrain their desire to bite at their calves.

Even the British ambassador, an Englishman steeped in proto-col and sporting a well-worn mustache, like one of those tooth-brushes one uses to blacken one's boots, did not accept thebumper of champagne offered him, but instead knelt down inthe middle of the salon in order to smell the flowers printed onthe carpet; then, after sidling up alongside a pedestal, he liftedhis hind leg like a dogo

[11]

Nunca he dejado de llevar la vida humilde que puede permitirseun modesto empleado de correos. ¡Pues! mi mujer - que tienela manía de pensar en voz alta y de decir todo 10 que le pasapor la cabeza - se empeña en atribuirme los destinos másabsurdos que pueden imaginarse.

Ahora mismo, mientras leía los diarios de la tarde, me preguntósin ninguna clase de preámbulos:

"¿Por qué no abandonaste el gato yel hogar? ¡Ha de ser tanlindo embarcarse en una fragatal., Durante las noches de luna,los marineros se reúnen sobre cubierta. Algunos tocan el acor-deón, otros acarician una mujer de goma. Tú fumas la pipa encompañía de un amigo. El mar te ha endurecido las pupilas.Has visto demasiados atardeceres. ¿Con qué puerto, con quéciudad no te has acostado alguna noche? ¿Las velas seráncapaces de brindarte un horizonte nuevo? Un día en que lacalma ya es una maldición, bajas a tu cucheta, desanudas unpañuelo de seda, te ahorcas con una trenza de mujer.".,..y no contenta con hacerme navegar por todo el mundo,cuando hace diez y seis años que estoy anclado en el correo:

"¿Recuerdas las que tenía cuando me conociste?.. En esetiempo me imaginaba que serías soldado y mis pezones seincendiaban al pensar que tendrías un pecho aspero, como unfelpudo.

[12]

4

I

,

The only life 1 had ever known was the humble one affordedme by my position as an employee of the post office. So mywife, who has a manía for thinking out loud and saying thefirst thing that pops into her head, took it upon herself toassign me fortunes more absurd than any you would everlmagme.

Out of the blue, while reading the evening papers, she tumedto me and asked, without preliminaries:

"Why didn't you give up the house and the cat? It would havebeen so niee to take a cruise on a frigate!... During the moonlitnights, the sailors gather on deck beneath the outspread sails.Some play the accordion, others fondle a rubber woman. Yousmoke your pipe with a mate. The sea has hardened your pu-pils. You have seen it all, Is there any port, is there any citywhere you have not spent the night? Does there yet remainsome undiscovered horizon towards which the sails may loftyou? One day when the calm has become a curse, you will godown to your bunk, untie your silk kerchief and hang yourselfwith a woman's pigtail."

And not content with having me circumnavigate the globe,even though I've been at anchor in the post office for morethan seventeen years:

"Do you remember the braids 1 had when you first met me? ..At that time 1 imagined that you would become a soldier, andmy nipples caught fire at the thought that you would have arugged, hairy chest, like a doormat.

[13]

"Eras fuerte. Escalaste los muros de un monasterio. Teacostaste con la abadesa. La dejaste preñada. ¿A qué tiempo,a qué nación pertenece tu historia? ... Te has jugado la vidatantas veces, que posees un olor a barajas usadas. ¡Con quéavidez, con qué ternura yo te besaba las heridas! Eras brutal.Eras taciturno. Te gustaban los quesos que saben a verija desátiro... y la primera noche, al poseerme, me destrozaste elespi~azo en el respaldo de la cama."

y como me dispusiera a demostrarle que lejos de cometer esasbarbaridades, no he ambicionado, durante toda mi existencia,más que ingresar en el Club Social de Vélez Sársfield:

"Ahora te veo arrodillado en una iglesia con olor a bodega.

"Mírate las manos; sólo sirven para hojear misales. Tuhumildad es tan grande que te avergüenzas de tu pureza, de tusabiduría. Te hincas a cada instante para besar las hojas que sequejan y que suspiran. Cuando una mujer te mira, bajas lospárpados y te sientes desnudo. Tu sudor es grato a lasprostitutas y a los perros. Te gusta caminar, con fiebre, bajo lalluvia. Te gusta acostarte, en pleno campo, a mirar lasestrellas ....n

"Una noche - en que te hallas con Dios - entras en unestablo, sin que nadie te vea, y te estiras sobre la paja, paramorir abrazado al pescuezo de alguna vaca..."

[14]

you were strong. You scaled the walls of the convento Youwent to bed with the abbess. You left her pregnant. To whattime, to what place, does a story like yours belong? ... Youhave played the game of life so many times that you have thesmell of a worn deck of cards. With what eagerness, with whattenderness 1kissed your wounds! You were savage! You weresilent! You liked cheeses that tasted like a satyr's groin ... andthe first night, when you possessed me, you broke my spineagainst the backboard of the bed."

And before 1 could prove just how far 1 was from perpetratingthese barbarities, that 1 aspired to nothing greater, during myentire lifetime, than gaining admission to the Vélez-SársfieldCountry Club:

"Now 1 see you kneeling in a church with the smell of a winecellar.

"Look at your hands; they are good for nothing but turningthe pages of missals. Your meekness is so great that you areashamed of your purity, of your prudence. You fall on yourknees at every moment to kiss the pages that sigh and com-plain. When a woman looks at you, you lower your eyelidsand feel naked and ashamed. Your sweat is pleasing to prosti-tutes and dogs. You like to walk feverish through the rain.you like to lie down in an open field and gaze up at the stars ...

"One night - in which you come face to face with God-you will enter a stable without being seen and stretch out onthe straw, so as to die with your arms around the neck of sómeold cow ... "

[15]

11

Si .h~biera sospechado 10 que se oye después de muerto, no meSUICIdo.

~p.enas se desvanece la musiquita que nos echó a perder losultlI~oS mom~ntos y cerramos los ojos para dormir laetermdad, empIezan las discusiones y las escenas de familia.

¡Qué desconocimiento de las formas! ¡Qué carencia absoluta decompostura! ¡Qué ignorancia de lo que es bien morir!

Ni un conventillo de calabreses malcasados, en plena catástrofeconyugal, daría una noción aproximada de las bataholas que seproducen a cada instante.

Mi~ntras algún vecino patalea dentro de su cajón, los de alIadose Insultan como carreros, y al mismo tiempo que resuena unestruendo a mudanza, se oyen las carcajadas de los que habitanen la tumba de enfrente.

C~alquier cadáver se considera con el derecho de manifestar agr~tos l~s deseos que había logrado reprimir durante toda sueXIsten:Ia de ciudadano, y no Contento con enteramos de sus:nezqumdades, de sus infamias, a los cinco minutos de hallarnosInstalados en nuestro nicho, .nos interioriza de lo que opinansobre nosotros todos los habitanres del cementerio.

I?~ na~a ,sir:veque nos tapemos las orejas. Los comentarios, lasrisrtas ironrcas, los cascotes que caen de no se sabe dónde, nosatormentan en tal forma los minutos del día y del insomnioque nos dan ganas de suicidarnos nueVamente. '

[381

11

Jfl'd had the slightest inkling of what 1 was going to hear aftereath, 1 would never have committed suicide.

carcely has the bit of music that spoils our final momentsbegun to fade and we close our eyes to sleep for all eternitythan the arguments and family scenes begin.

What disregard for good form! What absolute lack of com-posure! What ignorance of what it means to die well!

A tenement house full of ill-wed Calabrians in full conjugalcatastrophe couldn'r give even an approximate notion of thehurly-burly produced every momento

Wrule some neighbor kicks around inside rus casket, those nextdoor trade insults like truck drivers, and at the same time thatsomething moves and clatters, peals of laughter emerge fromthose who inhabit the tomb in front.

Some cadaver considers it rus right to make known at the topof rus lungs desires that he had successfu11y rep~ess:d duri~g rusentire existence as a citizen, and, not content with informing usof rus every meanness and infamy, within five minutes of ourbeing installed in our niche he makes us privy to the thoughtsand opinions that all the other inhabitants of the cemetery haveabout uso

It is useless to plug up your ears. The cornments, the sarcasticsnickers the rubble that falls from who knows where so tor-ment us' at every moment of the day and insomniac night thatit's enough to make us want to commit suicide all over again.

[39]

Aunque parezca mentira - esas humillaciones - ese continuoestruendo resulta mil veces preferible a los momentos de calmay de silencio.

Por lo común, éstos sobrevienen con una brusquedad de sín-cope. De pronto, sin el menor indicio, caemos en el vacío.Imposible asirse a alguna cosa, encontrar una asperosidad a queaferrarse. La caída no tiene término. El silencio hace sonar sudiapas6n. La atmósfera se rarifica cada vez más, y el menor rui-dito: una uña, un cartílago que se cae, la falange de un dedoque se desprende, retumba, se amplifica, choca y rebota en losobstáculos que encuentra, se amalgama con todos los ecos quepersisten; y cuando parece que ya se va a extinguir, y cerramoslos ojos despacito para que no se oiga ni el roce de nuestros pár-~ados, resuena un nuevo ruido que nos espanta el sueño paraSIempre.

¡Ah, si yo hubiera sabido que la muerte es un país donde no sepuede vivir!

[40]

Although it may be hard to believe - these humiliations -this continual clatter proves to be a thousand times more pre-ferable to the moments of silence and calmo

Usually they occur with the suddenness of a swoon. All atonce, without the slightest warning, we tumble into the void.It's impossible to latch onto anything, to find anything roughor protruding to grabo The fall has no end. Silence lets itsamplitude sound. The atmosphere gets more rarefied momentby moment, and the least noise - a fingernail, a bit ofsloughed cartilage, a phalange that comes loose from a finger -resounds, is amplified, bumps and rebounds as it encountersobstacles on its way, and is amalgamated with all the otherpersisting echoes; and when it seems that finally it is going tofade out, and we close our eyes gently to avoid hearing the frie-tion of our eye1ids, there arises a new noise to scare us out ofour sleep forever.

Ah, if only l' d known that death is a country where no onecan live!

[41]

2.0

Con frecuencia voy a visitar a un pariente que vive en losalrededores, :Al pasar por alguna de las estaciones - ¡no fallaID por casualídad! - el tren salta sobre el andén, arrasa losequipajes, derrumba boletería, el comedor. Los vagones setrepan los unos sobre los otros. El furgón se acopla con lalocom~tora. ~o hay más que piernas y brazos por todas par-tes: bajo los asientos, entre los durmientes de la vía, sobre lasredes donde se colocan las valijas.

De mi compartimento sólo queda un pedazo de puerta. Echoa un lado los cadáveres que me rodean. Rectifico la latitud demi corbata, y salgo, 10 más campante, sin una arruga en elpantalón o en la sonrisa.

Aunque preveo lo que sucederá, otras veces me embarco, conla esperanza de que mis presentimientos resulten inexactos.

Los pasajeros son los mismos de siempre. Está el marido adúl-t~ro, con ~ sonrisa de padrillo. Está la señorita cuyos atrae-trvos se conzan en proporción directa al alejamiento de la costa.Está la señora foca, la señora tonina; el fabricante de artículosde goma, que apoyado sobre la borda contempla la inmensidaddel mar y 10 único que se le ocurre es escupirlo.

Al tercer día de navegar se oye - ¡en plena noche! _ unestruendo metálico, intestinal.

¡Mujeres semidesnudas! ¡Hombres en camiseta!· [Llantos!¡Plegarias! ¡Gritos!... .

166]

2.0

Often 1 go to visit a relative who lives ou~de of ~own. .Whilepassing through one of the stations - u certainly did nothappen by chance! - the train jump~d over ~he platform, de-molished the baggage, wiped out the ticket offIce and the snackh The cars stacked up one on top of the other. Thes op. dI

boxear coupled onto the locomotive. There were ~ an egseverywhere: under the seats, along the tracks, up ID the netsfor the luggage.

Of my compartment all that remains is a splinter from thedoor. 1 shove to one side the cadavers that surround me. 1straighten my tie and step outside, ~ cheerful. as you please,without a wrinkle in my trousers or ID my smile.

Although 1 foresee everything that will happen, 1 haveembarked on more than one such journey in the hope that mypremonitions will prove mistaken ...

The passengers were the same as alwa~s ', Ther~ was the adul-terous husband with his pious, patromzing smile. There ~asthe young lady whose charms are priced in direct proportionto your distance from the coast. There was the seal w?man,the tuna woman; the manufacturer of rubber ~oods leaning onthe guard rail and contemplating th~ immensity of the o~e~,which seems to inspire him only with the thought of spitnngon rt,

On the third day of the voyage there was heard - in themiddle of the night! - a metallic, intestinal screech.

Half-naked women! Men in their nightshirts! Tears! Prayers!Screams!

[67]

Mientras los pasajeros se estrangulan al asaltar los botes desalvamento, yo aprovecho un bandazo para zambullirme desdela cubierta, y ya en el mar, contemplo - con impasibilidad decorcho - el espectáculo.

¡Horror! El buque cabecea, tiembla, hunde la proa y sesumerge.

¿Tendré que convencerme una vez más que soy el único sobre-viviente?

Con la intención de comprobarlo, inspecciono el sitio del nau-fragio. Aquí un salvavidas, una silla de mimbre... Allá uncardumen de tiburones, un cadáver flotante...

Calculo el rumbo, la distancia, y después de batir todos losrécores del mundo, entro, el octavo día, en el puerto dedesembarque.

Mis amigos, la gente que me conoce, las personas que saben decuántas catástrofes me he librado, supusieron, en el primermomento, que era una simple casualidad, pero al comprobarque la casualidad se repetía demasiado, terminaron por consi-derarla una costumbre, sin darse cuenta que se trata de unaverdadera predestinación.

Así como hay hombres cuya sola presencia resulta de una efi-cacia abortiva indiscutible, la mía provoca accidentes a cadapaso, ayuda al azar y rompe el equilibrio inestable de quedepende la existencia.

¡Con qué angustia, con qué ansiedad comprobé, durante los pri-meros tiempos, está propensión al cataclismo!... ¡La vida secomplica cuando se hallan escombros a cadapaso!... [Pero es talla fuerza de la costumbre!'" Insensiblemente uno se habitúa avivir entre cadáveres desmenuzados y entre vidrios rotos, hasta

[68]

As the passengers strangled one another clawing their way tothe lifeboats, 1managed to reach an inflatable raft, dove underits tarpaulin cover and, already in the sea, surveyed - with theimpassiveness of a cork - the unfolding spectacle.

It was a horrible sight! The ship pitched, shuddered, nosedunder at the prow and slipped beneath the waves.

Did 1 have to convince myself one more time that 1 was theonly survivor?

So as to be sure, 1 inspected the site of the shipwreck. Herewas a lifesaver, a wicker chair... there a school of sharks, abobbing cadaver...

1 calculated the distance, set a course and, after beating a11world records, entered, on the eighth day, the port of disem-barkation.

My friends, those who knew how many similar debacles 1hadbeen spared before, surmised at first that what had happenedwas a simple accident, but, having to admit that these accidentshappened so often, to the point of seemingroutine, fina11yhadto treat it as a case of authentic predestination.

Just as there are men ,:hose pres.ence exerts .an un~rringabortive efficacy,my special faculty is for provoking accidentsat every turn, for helping along unforeseen calamity and up-sening the unstable equilibrium on which all existence depends.

With what anguish, with what anxiety did 1confront, in thosefirst days, this propensity for cataclysm!... Life gets compli-cated when it trips over wreckage at every step!". But the forceof habit is invincible... Without noticing, one eventually be-comes accustomed to living among disintegrating cadavers and

[69]

que se descubre el encanto de las inundaciones, de los derrum-bamientos, y se ve que la vida solo adquiere color en medio dela desolación y del desastre.

¡Saber que basta nuestra presencia para que las cariátides secansen de sosten~r los edificios públicos y fallezcan - entre suscapiteles, entre sus expedientes - centenares de prestamistas,que se alimentaban de empleados ... ¡públicos!... y de garbanzos!

¡Saborear - como si fuese mazamorra - los temblores queprovoca nuestra mirada; esos terremotos en los que lasbañaderas se arrojan desde el octavo piso, mientras perecenenjauladas en los ascensores, docenas de vendedoras rubias, yque sin embargo se llamaban Esther!

¿Verdad que ante la magnificencia de tales espectáculos, pierdentodo atractivo hasta los paisajes de montañas, mucho mejor for-madas que las nalgas de la Venus de Milo?

El exotismo de las mariposas o de los mastodontes, los ritos dela masonería o de la masticación - al menos en 10 que a mí serefieren - no consiguen interesarme. Necesito esqueletos pul-verizados, decapitaciones ferroviarias, descuartizamientosinidentificables, y es tan grande mi amor por 10 espectacular,que el día en que no provoco ningún cortocircuito, sufro unaverdadera desilusión.

En estas c~ndiciones, mi compañía resultará lo intranquilizadoraque se qUiera.

¿Tengo yo alguna culpa en preferir las quemaduras a las cole-gialas de tercer grado?

[70]

shattered glass, even to the point of discovering the enchant-ments of floods, the delights of structural collapses, and soonone feels that life acquires color only in the midst of desolationand disaster. -

Note that our mere appearance on the scene is enough to causecaryatids to weary of holding up public edifices and thus tocause the downfall - among their crumbling columns offigures, among their portfolios - of hundreds of moneylenders,who feed on the body politic ... and on garbanzo beans!

Learn to relish - as if they were delicious plates of boiledmaize - the temblors that fill us with awe, earthquakes inwhich bathtubs sprink1e from the eighth floor while dozens ofsalesgirls are trapped and perish in the e1evators, and thoughblonde are still called Estherl

Who can deny that before the magnificence of such spectaclesmountain landscapes lose a1ltheir appeal, even if they are bettershaped than the buttocks of the Venus de Milo?

The exoticism of moths or mastodons, the rites of masonry ormastication - at least as far as I'm concemed ;- hold not theslightest interest. 1need pulverized skeletons, railroad decapita-tions, unidentifiable corpses drawn-and-quartered, and so greatis my love for the spectacular that the day on which it doesn'tproduce in me a short circuit, 1 will expire from sheer dis-illusionment.

Under such conditions, my company would be as uncertain asuncertain can be.

Am 1 to blame if 1 prefer conflagrations to third-grade school-girls?

[71]

Aunque la mayoría de los hombres se satisfaga con rumiar elsueño y la vigilia con una impasibilidad de cornudo, quien hayapernoctado entre cadáveres vagabundos comprenderá que elresto me parezca melaza, nada más que melaza.

Yo soy - ¡qué le vamos a hacer! - un hombre catastrófico yI • ,

asr como no puedo dOI1DJ.rantes que se derrumben, sobre micama, los bienes y los cuerpos de los que habitan en los pisosde arriba, no logro interesarme por ninguna mujer, si no meconsta, que al estrecharla entre mis brazos, ha de declararse unincendio en el que perezca carbonizada... ¡la pobrecita!

[72]

Although most men satisfy themselves with musing on theirdreams and waking with the submissiveness of a cuckold, hewho has pernoctated among vagabond cadavers will compre-hend that the rest seems so much molasses, nothing butmolasses.

1am - and what can 1do? - a catastrophic man, and 1cannotsleep unless 1 can hear the rumblings above my bed of thebodies and the belongings of those living on the floors above,and I'm not interested in any woman, if 1haven't already madethis clear, unless, as she lies outstretched in my arms, she setsherself on fire in a blazing conflagration in which she is car-bonized to ash ... poor thingl

[73]

OLIVERIO GIRONDO (189i-1967) was bom into a wealthyfamily in Buenos Aires. He studied for law, but did not practiceit, preferring to experiment in literature. His chief publicationsare Veinte poemas para ser leídos en la tranvía (Twenty PoemsTo Be Read on the Streetcar, 1922), Calcomanías (Decals, 1925),Espanatapájaros (Scarecrow, 1932), Interlunio (Lunarlude, 1937),Persuación de los días (persuasion of the Days, 1942) and Camponuestro (Our Countryside, 1946), the last two being collectionsof poetry. This iconoclastic body of work is well representedin the present translation. His last book is the untranslatableEn la másmedula (Into the Moremarrow, 1954), poetry at thefar reaches of the mind. Girondo travelled widely and associ-ated with avant-garde writers in Europe and Latin America.He founded the journal Martín Fierro in 1923, which ran fortwenty-six years. At its close, he established the Martín FierroAward to support young writers. He and wife Norah Langehosted a literary salon in the capital and presided as patrons ofArgentine arts and letters unti11964, when he was injured in acar accident. A generous man, Oliverio Girondo greatly bene-fitted the cause of imaginative literature in Argentina. Citationof bis works in the film The Dark Side o/ the Heart (1994)created a sensation in Argentina and brought him belated worldfame.

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GILBERT ALTER-GILBERT is a translator, critic and literaryexplorer. Among his translations are Tbe Mirror o/ Lida Sal:Tales Based on Mayan Myths & Guatemalan Legends by MiguelAngel Asturias (Latin American Literary Review Press, 1997);Manifestos Manifest, from the French, by Vicente Huidobro(Sun & Moon Press, 1999); and Strange Forces: Tbe FantasticTales o/ Leopoldo Lugones (Latin American Literary Review,2001). He is the editor of Life and Limb: Selected Tales o/ Peril,Predicament and Dire Distress (Hi Jinx Press, 1996) and hasseveral other anthologies in the offmg. He writes art criticismand essays in literary esoterica, and serves as a consultant forXenos Books. His next translation with Xenos will be On aLocomotive & other runaway stories by Massimo Bontempelli.California bom and bred, Alter-Gilbert ventures far and wide,usually in a foreign automobile, but continues to reside in theGolden State, where he maintains one of the most distinctiveprivate collections of literary memorabilia on the Pacific Coast.A master of disguises, he delights in making unexpected appear-ances and unnoticed disappearances, leaving behind magneticmummies and historie illustrations of the seven vices.

KARL KVITK.O was bom in an area of the Blue Ridge Moun-tains to a woman of Ukrainian or Irish descent. His Germanicfather, a zookeeper, disappeared on an extended expedition invery wet terrain. Kvitko, raised in an orphanage, first took aninterest in snakes, then languages and literatures. Eventually hestudied Russian and specialized in espionage. Most of hisworks appear in another language under an official cryptonym.In 1985, convinced that the big publishers hated real literature,written, as Yevgeny Zamyatin observed, "not by efficient andtrustworthy clerks, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dream-ers, rebels, skeptics," he founded Xenos Books, taking for itsname the Greek word that means both "stranger" and "guest."Everyone involved with the press matches at least one ofZamyatin' s specifications.

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