The Eternal Feminine (Los adioses)

I'm not a seed of anise.

I am a girl and I'm seven years old.

The five fingers on the right, and two on the left hand.

And when I stand, I can look straight at my father's knees.

No higher.

I imagine he is still growing like a great tree...

...and that on his highest branch, crouches a tiny tiger.

My mother is different.

Her hair, so black, so thick, so curly...

...draws passing birds who like it and stay.

I only imagine it, I've never seen it.

I see only what lies at my level.

Certain bushes with leafs half-eaten by insects.

The school desks, stained with ink.

My brother.

And him, I see completely, for he was born after me...

...and by then I knew many things that I now explain to him in detail.

Such as this:

"Columbus discovered the Americas."

Thank you very much. Thank you, Rosario.

I want to add that FCE Press is fully confident...

...that Balun Canan is already a classic in Mexican literature.

Dearest Ricardo:

I started writing this letter as soon as I got to Spain.

I've been feeling very sad, and what's worse, it shows.

So, the others leave me alone, just what I need to be with you.

I examine myself incessantly and find your image everywhere...

...the memory of you.

With you, I was so perfectly, so thoroughly happy...

...that this separation hasn't disturbed nor destroyed me.

I am still too full...

...too overflowing with the happiness you gave me.

My reserves of joy are still plentiful...

...and I hope they won't run dry before your presence renews them.

Doesn't it make you uneasy, to mean so much to someone?

Because you should know that I can't love whom I don't admire.

I'll say goodbye now.

And I swear upon my heart that I'm utterly faithful to you.

It makes me happier to think of you than to talk to people.

I love you, dear Ricardo, as far as the eye can see...

...and keep in mind I stand facing the sea.

I am genuinely grateful that you agreed to see me.

I didn't do it for you. I just wanted closure.

I wanted to talk to you...

- We're talking now. - No, not like this.

How else are we supposed to talk?

What is that?

- Are these my...? - All of them.

Every single one you ever wrote me.

- Are you giving them back? - No! Of course not.

I wanted...

...I don't know, I guess...

...I wanted you to know I still keep your words.

All together like this, they do seem like a lot.

You were gone for a long time.

I have five postcards from you.

Look, I'm nothing but a poor philosopher, Chayo.

The only words of love I have came from you.

- I didn't do things right. - You don't say!

You're exaggerating. Other than the bit about...

...asking me to marry you and then marrying another...

...you were a dream.

I made a mistake. That's why I wanted to see you.

To tell you that I know I made a mistake.

Next week, I'm signing my divorce papers.

I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.

Oh, Guerra!

You are... a prodigy of nature.

- Like the Rock of Gibraltar? - No!

Nothing as boring as that.

I'm sorry.

Do you have plans? Want to get lunch with me?

No.

Yes... I don't know.

I don't know what I want.

I did five minutes before seeing you, I swear it.

Ouch!

I'm sorry!

I am so sorry.

What's wrong?

I used to be skinny.

But so skinny that I almost didn't have a body.

I used to wander around, floating like a ghost.

And at night...

...I used to dream that I died.

My brother and I used to pretend that we died.

And the following morning, I couldn't feel alive again.

Later, I got fat as a cow and that was that.

I now dreamt of pork rinds, instead of dying.

Come here.

When I'm with you, I feel solid...

...and consistent, dear Guerra.

I love you.

I don't want to be something sad and heavy.

I love you.

Like all those things you learned back home.

I don't want to be heavy and sad...

...or any of those things you learned back home.

How dare you, scoundrel? My house was a carnival.

"Loneliness traced its wrecked landscape."

"The shape it takes before men is that of a hostile nudity."

Give me the sheet.

- Give me the sheet. - What? Why?

It's hard enough being naked to feel exposed on top ot that.

You brought up childhood and you wrote the poem.

Ricardo.

You show up after all this time and make me feel naked.

Literally.

Look at me.

I'm just as naked as you are.

I want to be by your side.

Don't think I'm fine with you reading me my monstrosities.

I did it because I liked that poem even before I liked you.

Don't you dare.

This is my favorite one.

"And so it is that we love and enjoy."

"And even of this feast for worms, we make pornographic novels."

"Or adult-only films."

You scare me more than high windows.

Don't you leave again.

Miss Castellanos!

- I'll get it. - Don't.

Darling, let it ring.

Hello?

Yes, yes. I told her.

Tomorrow.

I can meet you there.

I’d rather.

Yes.

Yes, I know.

No!

No, no, no.

No, it’s the building that is…

What?

Nothing.

You're not the only one working, you know?

I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

- Your coffee, ma'am. - Thanks, María.

Dear, your coffee!

- None for him? - That's OK, leave it here.

The kitchen is gleaming in its whiteness.

It's a shame having to tarnish it with use.

It'd be better to sit and watch it, describe it...

...to close one's eyes and bring it to memory.

On close inspection, its sharpness and tidiness lacks the glare...

...that usually prompts chills in hospitals.

Or is it the aura of disinfectants, the rubber steps of the nurses?

Or is it the hidden presence of illness and death?

Come here.

Come here a minute.

I'm coming.

I just need to finish...

- ...finish this. - Come here.

Now that democracy has come to our beloved Guatemala...

...President Arévalo has extended an invitation to Mexico's youth.

So we can start a dialogue on the future of Latin America.

We know of no one better to respond to this invitation...

...than our comrade Rosario Castellanos.

Rosario, please.

I'm honored that you call me your comrade, Otto.

Who is she?

Who, Castellanos?

She was the student rep for the faculty last year.

- Where is she from? - Chiapas, I think.

I see, so she thinks she is a communist.

- But she is a landowner for sure. - Ricardo!

Excuse me, comrade. I have a question.

Save your questions for the end, please.

I thought this was a forum, not a press conference.

- It's more practical to... - Don't dismiss me, comrade.

Politeness doesn't detract from your socialism.

I am comrade Guerra.

There are only two subjects worth writing about.

And by writing I mean rearranging...

...because in their pure state, they are intolerable.

Sex and death.

That's it, we all suffer them, but they are kept hidden...

...in a dark place, covered with prejudice.

Bringing them to light is risky because we're doomed to fail.

There are no words to talk about sex or death.

They happen in the body, so far from our conscience...

...and its instrument, language. So, what can we do?

Should we recognize our limits?

Chayo! Our poems were published!

- Really? - Let's see them.

- Let me see. - Sergio!

Lola!

"I was encircled by rings of words."

"Rising like smoke in space."

"Diluting their mass, becoming lost."

"All that remained, thick like milk poured over me..."

"...one that knotted origin and destination."

"Woman."

"A hypnotizing, radical voice..."

"...in Eve's throat and all thereafter."

"A docility of honey meant for kissing."

Rosario Castellanos.

Someone should tell you...

...that even if you hide, you are visible for miles.