Roberto Fernández Retamar--poet, essayist, and professor of philology at the University of Havana--has long served as the Cuban Revolution’s primary cultural and literary voice. An erudite and widely respected hispanist, Retamar is known for his meticulous efforts to dismantle Eurocentric colonial and neocolonial thought. Since its publication in Cuba in 1971, “Caliban"--the first and longest of the five essays in this book--has become a kind of manifesto for Latin American and Caribbean writers; its central figure, the rude savage of Shakespeare’s Tempest, becomes in Retamar’s hands a powerful metaphor of their cultural situation--both its marginality and its revolutionary potential. Retamar finds the literary and historic origins of Caliban in Columbus’s Navigation Log Books, where the Carib Indian becomes a cannibal, a bestial human being situated on the margins of civilization. The concept traveled from Montaigne to Shakespeare, on down to Ernest Renan and, in the twentieth century, to Aimé Césaire and other writers who consciously worked with or against the vivid symbolic figures of Prospero, Calivan, and Ariel. Retamar draws especially upon the life and work of José Marti, who died in 1895 in Cuba’s revolutionary struggle against Spain; Marti’s Calibanesque vision of “our America” and its distinctive mestizo culture-Indian, African, and European-is an animating force in this essay and throughout the book.
Roberto Fernández Retamar was a poet, essayist, literary critic and President of the Casa de las Américas. In his role as President of the organization, Fernández also serves on the Council of State of Cuba. An early close confidant of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro, he has remained a central figure in Cuba since the 1959 Revolution. Fernández has also written over a dozen major collections of verse and founded the Casa de las Americas cultural magazine.
Professor Joao Cesar Castro de Rocha, at the University of Manchester has described Retamar as "one of the most distinguished Latin American intellectuals of the twentieth century." In 1989, he was awarded the National Prize for Literature, Cuba's national literary award and most important award of its type.
"You taught me language and my profit on it is I know how to curse! A red plague on you for learning me your language". Caliban in Shakespeare's THE TEMPEST
The year is 1971. In the words of William Burroughs, "vast guerrilla armies are descending upon the metropolis of the empire". Castroite rebels are active from Colombia to Brazil. The dead Che' Guevara still ignites fires of revolution from Puerto Rico to Sri Lanka. The monarch of the empire is scurrying from Viet Nam. What better time for Roberto Fernandez Retamar, the intellectual Pontificus Maximum of the Cuban Revolution, to pen a polemic of hope, and a manual for revolution? Taking THE TEMPEST for a template, Retamar argues that the monstrous, grotesque and illiterate figure channeled by Shakespeare to represent the colonial Other should be embraced by Third World revolutionaries as their champion and patron saint. (THE TEMPEST is seemingly set in the Mediterranean but its characters and geography are closer to the Caribbean). Can it be mere coincidence that Caliban=Carib=cannibal? Retamar is intentionally rejecting the notion, favored by many Latin American intellectuals, and today some Latin neocons, that the Latin peoples should model themselves after Ariel in THE TEMPEST; a figure spiritually superior to the European (read colonial) conquerors. (For those of you so inclined I suggest reading Jose' Enrique Rodo's ARIEL, published early in the twentieth century.) On the contrary: let's take Shakespeare at his word at let the First World think the worst of us. With Latin America in the grip of neoliberals and fainthearted leftists CALIBAN is more timely and urgent today that at the start of the Seventies.
The title essay, "Caliban," is so complex and wide-ranging. Really fascinating and brilliant criticism of colonialism and Eurocentrism. One of the only issues I have is that he repeatedly name-drops people and writes something along the lines of "this is very obvious and clearly you've heard of it." I haven't! I don't know who they are! I understand, though, that I am neither his target audience, nor in his target era, so I do not entirely disparage him for this. If you're interested in Latin American post-colonial, cultural, Marxist, or structuralist criticisms, this is fantastic.
Frankly, this collection of essays made it a point to remind me that I know nothing. Fernandez Retamar is on another level. I can definitely see myself coming back to this work, and others of his, later in my life.
This quote resonated with me:
“The creation of conditions by which an entire people who have lived in exploitation and illiteracy gains access to the highest levels of knowledge and creativity is one of the most beautiful achievements of a revolution” (Fernandez Retamar 44).
some interesting notions, particularly in the "caliban" essay. the translation is extremely readable too. however, the reader must sort through quite a lot of political propaganda.
maybe its just the translation but to me this just read like a muddled stream of consciousness straight from the head of the author. now to be fair i only really read caliban, but from what ive seen it is not coherent at all. the author inserts his opinion at random points for no real reason, includes superfluous information in paranthesis also randomly, and makes vague passerby references to other works he doesnt really explain. all of these for me just broke the essay up and made it difficult to read.