I’m currently reading Before Night Fall by Reinaldo Arenas.
It’s the memoir of a gay, Cuban novelist/poet who suffered under the Castro
regime. I found one passage particularly interesting and wanted to share it. I
plan to make this a theme in a future novel.
Ours is a national history of betrayals, uprisings,
desertions, conspiracies, riots, coups d’etat; all of them provoked by infinite
ambition, abuse, despair, false pride, and envy. Two attitudes, two
personalities, always seem to be in conflict throughout our history: on the one
hand, the incurable rebels, lovers of freedom and therefore of creativity and
experimentation; and on the other, the power-hungry opportunists and
demagogues, and thus purveyors of dogma, crime, and the basest of ambitions.
These attitudes have recurred over time: General Tacon agaist Heredia, Martinez
Campos against Jose Marti, Fidel Castro against Lezama Lima and Virgilio
Pinera; always the same rhetoric, the same speeches, always the drums of
militarism stifling the rhythm of poetry and life.
Dictators and authoritarian regimes can destroy writers in
two ways: by persecuting them or by showering them with official favors. In
Cuba, of course, those who opted for favors also perished and in an even more
deplorable and undignified manner: People of unquestionable talent, once they
embraced the new dictatorship, never wrote anything worthwhile again.
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