Last Saturday I had the opportunity to go on a literary hike which took us along the locations that inspired or are mentioned in the book Costa do Solpor, written by Xosé María Lema. The story is meant to be a follow-up of what happened to the Hispaniola, the schooner from Stevenson's novel Treasure Island. It is a beautifully written book, with carefully chosen words and expressions and in which the location is almost a character in itself.
I really enjoyed the hike and the sights, but I also loved the human dimension of the activity. In fact, we had the opportunity to listen to Alexandre Nerium, a poet from Fisterra who showed us the Castelo de San Carlos and also delighted us with a touching poetry recitation. I am including below one of my favourites:
Cabaleiro do mar
Cabaleiro do mar, fun cabaleiro
dun castelo de estrelas desvalidas,
entre cachóns de anémonas perdidas,
entre cinzas que afloran no salseiro.
Cabaleiro do mar, fun cabaleiro
na galera de mans esvaecidas,
entre bágoas de sal esmorecidas,
amarrado á mesana dun veleiro.
Cabaleiro do mar; de pés mollados,
entre alfanxes sombríos, ondulados,
de azagaia sutil e nacarada.
Cabaleiro de soño e de serea
tumbado no devalo da marea
sen pavés, sen loriga e sen espada.
(De De mar e vento, Espiral Maior, 1997)
Another big discovery for me was Miro Villar, also a poet from the area (Cee). He did not recite any poem but as soon as I got home I "googled" him (don't we all do that nowadays?) and I came across another unexpected treasure, which was his intimate, heartwarming blog.
This is a very detailed, thorough blog which I honestly think could serve as an encyclopedia or reference list for anyone who, like me, loves poetry but never really had an education in this genre because, let's be honest, how much poetry was included in our school programmes? I don't know what is being taught nowadays, but as for me, we did not go beyond Antonio Machado or Jaime Gil de Biedma in Spanish. In Galician we never even read a whole book of poems, we just read isolated texts that appeared in our textbook. I guess something similar happens with theatre, which I think it's a little sad.
Anyway, it was here that I found a reference to Rosalía de Castro's letters, which are available online here for anyone wishing to read them.
They are beautiful letters, very much in line with her poems, where she, as they say on this website, "takes her dose of sorrow without dilution, but remarkably, also without bitterness". I feel privileged to be able to access these letters nowadays, years after she has been long gone, but I also feel that we are somehow prying into her life.
It made me think of an experience Patri Fernández and I had when we visited Viñetas desde o Atlántico in August last year. We were visiting the book stalls and all of a sudden we found a box with vintage cards. Accidentally, we noticed that some of them were written and we couldn't help but reading them. It turns out there were about 15 cards that had been exchanged between a couple during the 70es. She had been living in Coruña and he was from South Spain. Tender words being exposed to eyes which were not meant to participate in this intimate exchange.
What will happen to the letters/cards I have exchanged? Will they ever be found in a street market or in a museum exhibit? I can't help but wishing the contents stay private, between me and the recipient. A one-time act of communication.
But I guess once you send those letters, any control over them is gone, you have to let those birds fly free... and in any case I am sure glad I can read Rosalía's letters nowadays.
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