Books in Cuba: When a Preface Steals the Limelight

Books in Cuba: When a Preface Steals the Limelight / Juan Juan Almeida
Posted on February 9, 2014

Over-fulfilling the goals of the books programmed to be delivered to the
printer, now they're regulating the presence of the second edition of
"History of a Liberator, 1952-1958″ in all the independent book stalls,
libraries, whether they're provincial, scholastic, universities and even
childcare centers, bookstores and Cuban consulates abroad.

The reason: Ex-president Fidel Castro edited the preface of this
sleep-inducing volume that, boring as a funeral, was written by Georgina
Leyva Pagán, the wife and life companion of Julio Camacho Aguilera, a
member of the Central Committee of the Party and octogenarian
constituent of the so-called Rebel Army, whom many people from Santiago
surely remember for his inefficient management as first secretary of the
party in Santiago de Cuba, between 1985 and 1987, as much as the fact
that he generated a contagious conga popular in the teasing style that
said, "Ay Camacho, Camacho, we are drunk all the time".

Such an epic reference book isn't an analytical study (or
auto-analytical) about the harmful consequences that the indiscriminate
use of alcohol causes to the intellectual health of a state official.
It's a selective compendium and testimony in which, scarcely separating
guilt and innocence, emerges a series of data that with extraordinary
invention, stained with something of imagination, permits the reader to
confuse once again the spirit of that group of men who decided to twist
the economic, political and social direction of our Caribbean island in
an evil direction.

With theatrical gestures, like some impressive disciple of Bertolt
Brecht or Konstantín Stanislavski, the publisher of such an ominous tome
didn't read the fragments of the same but centered her attention on the
ceremonial torch of an inevitable preface. "Gina, in her book, helped me
to remember and understand with more precision the thinking that
propelled me in those intense years I lived, although, yes, I'm aware
that more than a preface I'm writing a chapter of history."

Anyone could predict what would happen later. The ex-leader and
convalescent, but still powerful preface-writer, usurped with grotesque
impertinence the leadership of the author, who, trembling, could only
conclude, "The Commander-in-Chief, with his prologue, saw the long view
of my humble book." And naturally, the surrounding biodiversity, with
its habitual dose of consideration and drama, applauded.

It was no surprise that the launching of the deafening preface, since
the book passed to a second level, was attended by José Ramón (El
gallego) Fernández, the ex-minister of education and immodest
professional wreck, José Ramón Balaguer, an excellent practitioner of
karate, but a man skilled in measuring the pressure of national
politicking; and Guillermo García Frías, who in reality, owing to his
constant lack of literary receptivity, no one knows even what he's doing
in a bookstore, which he proved by serious cracks in his strategy of
control.

Perhaps Guillermo only was practicing his usual quiet subversion.

Also present were Miguel Barnet, Abel Prieto, Rafael Bernal and other
exploiters who, captive of a useless sytem, in order to coexist at the
margin of popular necessity, opt for pretending and/or forming part of
that great herd of sheep who obey the voice of the shepherd, even when
he is absent.

Translated by Regina Anavy

3 February 2014

Source: Books in Cuba: When a Preface Steals the Limelight / Juan Juan
Almeida | Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/books-in-cuba-when-a-preface-steals-the-limelight-juan-juan-almeida/