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El Cuarto mundo

El Cuarto mundo in Bloomington, MN
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En El cuarto mundo, tercera novela en la fecunda trayectoria de Diamela Eltit, un hermano y una hermana gemelos compiten por la atención del lector del mismo modo en que, antes de nacer, competían por el espacio en el vientre materno, lugar de enunciación elegido por la escritora para hacer hablar a sus personajes en el arranque de esta historia. Tal y como acostumbra, sirviéndose de un lenguaje lírico que desafía y cautiva, Eltit explora los límites de la narración para abordar con espíritu crítico el universo familiar y la maternidad, la construcción del género, los roles socialmente asignados a hombres y mujeres o la materialidad del cuerpo femenino como centro de las relaciones de poder. La novela se publicó en 1988, todavía en el contexto de la represión dictatorial chilena. Eltit describe en estos términos lo que era hacer literatura en aquel período aciago: «Escribí en ese entorno, casi diría obsesivamente, no porque creyera que lo que hacía era una contribución material a nada, sino porque era la única manera en la que podía salvar mi propio honor. Cuando mi libertad –no lo digo en sentido literal, sino en toda su amplitud simbólica– estaba amenazada, me tomé la libertad de escribir con libertad. Pero eso tampoco reparó ni las humillaciones, ni el miedo, ni la pena, ni la impotencia por las víctimas del sistema: escribir en ese espacio fue algo pasional y personal. Mi resistencia política secreta. Cuando se vive en un entorno que se derrumba, construir un libro puede ser quizá uno de los escasos gestos de sobrevivencia».
In The Fourth World, the third novel in Diamela Eltit’s prolific career, a twin brother and sister compete for the reader’s attention in the same way that, before being born, they competed for space in the mother’s womb, the place of enunciation chosen by the writer to make her characters speak at the beginning of this story. As usual, using a lyrical language that challenges and captivates, Eltit explores the limits of narration to critically address the family universe and motherhood, the construction of gender, the roles socially assigned to men and women, and the materiality of the female body as the center of power relations. The novel was published in 1988, still in the context of Chilean dictatorial repression. Eltit describes in these terms what it was like to write literature in that fateful period: “I wrote in that environment, I would almost say obsessively, not because I believed that what I was doing was a material contribution to anything, but because it was the only way I could save my own honour. When my freedom – I don’t mean this in the literal sense, but in all its symbolic breadth – was threatened, I took the liberty of writing freely. But that did not make up for the humiliation, the fear, the pain, or the helplessness for the victims of the system: writing in that space was something passionate and personal. My secret political resistance. When you live in an environment that is collapsing, writing a book can perhaps be one of the few gestures of survival.”
In The Fourth World, the third novel in Diamela Eltit’s prolific career, a twin brother and sister compete for the reader’s attention in the same way that, before being born, they competed for space in the mother’s womb, the place of enunciation chosen by the writer to make her characters speak at the beginning of this story. As usual, using a lyrical language that challenges and captivates, Eltit explores the limits of narration to critically address the family universe and motherhood, the construction of gender, the roles socially assigned to men and women, and the materiality of the female body as the center of power relations. The novel was published in 1988, still in the context of Chilean dictatorial repression. Eltit describes in these terms what it was like to write literature in that fateful period: “I wrote in that environment, I would almost say obsessively, not because I believed that what I was doing was a material contribution to anything, but because it was the only way I could save my own honour. When my freedom – I don’t mean this in the literal sense, but in all its symbolic breadth – was threatened, I took the liberty of writing freely. But that did not make up for the humiliation, the fear, the pain, or the helplessness for the victims of the system: writing in that space was something passionate and personal. My secret political resistance. When you live in an environment that is collapsing, writing a book can perhaps be one of the few gestures of survival.”