Beautiful text, Monika! When I was a child (I was a very precocius
reader :) and read history of Rome and Greece. My favorite was the
history of Carthage and I was shocked how the city was erased and the
Romans threw salt in it to avoid the Carthagineses should build it
again.
These horrible fate
Today is the real estate and the commerce and the corporate world--- memory of
a city does not constitute a value, unless it's a negative value, because it
becomes a threat to the powers.
Nationalism of any kind does not interest me. Instead, is the redefinition of
otherness as sameness.
I
A group of friends of mine, the architect group Hackitectura,
www.hackitectura.net
work with maps and try to make a cartography of the memory (or the
lack of it) mapping social relations, inmaterial networks, political
issues.
One of their main pillars is the work with communities wanting to
I would love to get in touch with them, if you think possible.
This has been and continues to be my main project (in other cities as well)
since last year and it would be interesting to consider a collaboration with
them, should they be interested.
I feel a deep connection to your writing Ana
Thank you Monika! I feel a deep sympathy with your writing and your
work. Mourning and lament make heavy bonds :) I am back in Uruguay
after 34 years of exile in Sweden and I meet now many women who has
been in jail with me. We feel a deep connection, having shared those
terrible years make us
dear Alan, Ana, and all
I am very sorry if I tried, unsuccessfully, to combine a great respect for the
seriousness of the issues raised here, the lived experience reported here by
you Ana in memory of the time of incarceration and torture, and for example
Alan when you talk about the dying
I think I am here trying to discuss with myself the value of my
memory. It took me 32 years to write the book about the time on jail
about torture and my own story. But before these book I wrote and
published nine other books, fiction, short stories, two novels. In
none of those books I adressed
What follows below is the second part (of 3) of a dialog on severe pain,
between Alan Sondheim and myself. I see this dialog as woven into the
discussion so far. In this dialog, we are concerned with the inexpressibility
of severe pain and at the same time the necessity of expressing it. In
