José Martiacute (1853-1895) is the most renowned political and literary figure in the history of Cuba. A poet, essayist, orator, statesman, abolitionist, and the martyred revolutionary leader of Cuba's fight for independence from Spain, Martí lived in exile in New York for most of his adult life, earning his living as a foreign correspondent. Throughout the 1880s and early 1890s, Martí's were the eyes through which much of Latin America saw the United States. His impassioned, kaleidoscopic evocations of that period in U.S. history, the assassination of James Garfield, the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge, the execution of the Chicago anarchists, the lynching of the Italians in New Orleans, and much more, bring it rushing back to life. Organized chronologically, this collection begins with his early writings, including a thundering account of his political imprisonment in Cuba at age sixteen. The middle section focuses on his journalism, which offers an image of the United States in the nineteenth century, its way of life and system of government, that rivals anything written by de Tocqueville, Dickens, Trollope, or any other European commentator. Including generous selections of his poetry and private notebooks, the book concludes with his astonishing, hallucinatory final masterpiece, "War Diaries," never before translated into English.
Born José Julián Martí y Pérez, he was a Cuban nationalist leader and an important figure in Latin American literature. During his short life he was a poet, an essayist, a journalist, a revolutionary philosopher, a professor, and a political theorist. Through his writings and political activity, he became a symbol for Cuba's bid for independence against Spain in the 19th century, and is referred to as El Apóstol; "Apostle of Cuban Independence". He also fought against the threat of United States expansionism into Cuba.
Seldom does one encounter a literary and cultural phenomenon like José Martí. A poet who transformed the way poetry was written in his society; a journalist with an unfailing eye for the telling detail, along with an unwavering moral compass; an inspiring orator; a fervent and impassioned advocate for the independence of his beloved Cuba � he was a true Renaissance man, who in his short life carried within his great heart the spirit and the aspirations of an entire people. For Cuba, he was Robert Frost and Thomas Paine and Martin Luther King Jr. and Walter Cronkite, all in one. And this Penguin Books edition of Selected Writings of José Martí provides North American readers with an excellent opportunity for getting to know Martí, his life, and his work.
Any English-language edition of Martí’s work, if it is to be helpful to readers from the Anglosphere, must endeavor to capture the breadth and variety of Martí’s writing; and this edition, translated by Esther Allen, with an introduction by Roberto González Echevarría of Yale University, certainly does so. Included in this edition are poems (both in the original Spanish, and in English translation, on facing pages), along with letters, notebook entries, journalistic articles, essays, and even a play written early in Martí’s career. Particularly helpful � and something that one may not find in other translations � is the inclusion in this edition of excerpts from Martí’s War Diaries of 1894-95. The first of those diary entries was written in February of 1894, as Martí and fellow Cuban revolutionaries were making their way along the border between Haiti and the Dominican Republic, trying to find a way off Hispaniola and over to Cuba. The last was written on May 17, 1895. Two days later, Martí charged Spanish forces, against orders, and was killed. At the age of 42, he gave his life for his beloved Cuba.
As Martí spent much of his adult life in the U.S.A., working as a journalist while sending articles out for publication in newspapers like La Nación of Buenos Aires, his commentaries on life in the United States of America may be of particular interest to American readers, as when he writes in his 1883 article “Tributes to Karl Marx, Who Has Died� about the American attitude toward the United States� wealthiest citizens. “Rome,� Martí writes, “prided itself on its generals; the United States prides itself on its rich men. It does not raise them high upon a shield, however, but mocks them even as it worships them� (p. 136) � an assessment that seems just as accurate for an American reader in 2016 as it must have seemed to Argentine readers in 1883.
Of particular value, however, are those writings in which Martí defends the honor of his beloved Cuba against all who would challenge that honor, whether Spanish or American. In a time when Cuba was a last gem in Spain’s old imperial crown, Cubans were divided among autonomistas (who favored Cuban autonomy within the Spanish empire), anexionistas (who favored annexation of Cuba by the U.S.A.), and independentistas (who wanted to see Cuba become an independent, sovereign republic beholden to no other nation). Martí was proud to be an independentista, and he articulated his belief in Cuba’s independence and national dignity in many of his writings. In response to anti-Cuban sentiments expressed in pro-annexation newspapers in Philadelphia and New York, Martí wrote in “A Vindication of Cuba� (1889) that “no self-respecting Cuban would like to see his country annexed to a nation where the leaders of opinion share towards him the prejudices excusable only to vulgar jingoism or rampant ignorance� (p. 263). In other words, why would nationalistic Americans who despise Cubans as people want to annex Cuba as a new state of the American Union? Martí’s logic is unassailable.
In “Our America� (1891), one of his most famous essays, Martí calls for Cuba and her sister nations of Latin America to establish republican government on the basis of their indigenous cultural traditions, asking, “In what patria can a man take greater pride than in our long-suffering republics of America, erected among mute masses of Indians upon the bloodied arms of no more than a hundred apostles, to the sound of the book doing battle against the monk’s tall candle?� (p. 291)
And in “To Cuba!� (1894), written after American tobacco companies responded to a strike by Cuban cigar workers in Key West, Florida, by importing Spanish strike-breakers, Martí offers a compelling suggestion that Cubans will have no friends in their quest for independence except for Cubans themselves: “There is no patria, Cubans, but the one we shall win with our own efforts�.No one loves or forgives except our own country. The only solid ground in the universe is the ground on which we were born�.Cubans, there is no man without a patria, and no patria without freedom� (p. 328). His calls for Cuban freedom and national pride still inspire the Cubans of today.
I read this edition of Martí’s Selected Writings while visiting Cuba. Over the course of a week in the country, traveling from Havana to the seaside resort town of Varadero, I noticed a number of things. One was that, at this early time after the relaxing of el bloqueo, the U.S. economic blockade of Cuba that followed the 1959 revolution, an American traveler in Cuba is still likely to be mistaken for a Canadian or a Briton. A second is that Cubans who realize they are dealing with an American are singularly gracious hosts, welcoming American visitors with warm hospitality, and with expressions of hope that more Americans will come to Cuba. And a third is that every town across the Cuban countryside, every district of Havana, seems to have its own monument to Martí. His trim, modest figure; his high forehead and thick mustache; his bearing, at once modest and somehow noble; his neat suit of broadcloth � there is no mistaking Martí when you see him. Martí is Cuba; he embodied the spirit of that beautiful and enigmatic island nation, and every reader who wants to gain an understanding of Cuba should read Martí.
I just finished Jose Marti, a collection of mostly newspaper articles he published during his lifetime, with a few poems, and short stories thrown in. I really enjoyed the later, but all of the articles wore me down. They were interesting - did you know the US tried to buy Cuba as a way of getting around paying an import tax on sugar, and the biggest deterrent was the fear of adding too many potential black voters? did you know 40 inches of snow fell on New York in one 24 hour period, March, 1888? Did you know Cuba imported Chinese slaves, or that 20 Italians were lynched in New Orleans, and the US had to pay Italy $25,000 because of it? Fascinating stuff, history.
“I've seen a man live with a knife in his side, never speaking the name of the woman who killed him.�
This excerpt of Marti’s poetry instantly struck me upon first reading, as one may imagine either Cuba or America as the woman who kills him despite his devotion. Cuba is self-explanatory: Marti was wounded and cast out in his early teens, and the duration of his years were spent attempting to return, to, and die for, his passion. Of course the fault doesn’t really lie with Cuba but it’s Spanish government, but I feel that point stands.
North America and New York, meanwhile, were Marti’s home away from home, and the bulk of these selections consist of his journalistic evaluations of the United States. His admiration of the States� best qualities exists hand in hand with his abhorrence of their worst, each further enflaming the other. His adoption of New York as a muse is unfortunately, with our foresight, the key to this second analogy. Though he eventually “speaks the name� of the US as the threat it could, and would, pose to Cuban independence, it is tragic to read through the midsection of this book knowing that Marti’s primary subject is (arguably) the greatest obstacle to true international Cuban sovereignty to this day.
There is also a fascinating discordance between Marti’s political thought as a revolutionary and his eventual leftist successors. Marti is critically conscious of class issues, but he does not fit neatly into a lineage of socialism; patriotism is, above all, his credo. The afterword of this book elaborates on this thought very well: “Marti's form of patriotism- absolute yet acutely critical, totally committed but never blind, selfless but never fanatical; a patriotism of bridges, not barriers-is not a common phenomenon.� As a result there are numerous discrepancies with some of his predecessors and followers, such as an absolute disdain for the poor Irish and opposition to spontaneous striking. As I read further, these discrepancies are what made his work even more compelling historically. I’m very surprised that Marti is not invoked to a degree anywhere near that of Castro, Guevara, or even Allende. Perhaps it’s because of the uncertainty of his political genealogy, or because he passed prior to any measurable victory of independence. Regardless, his work is well worth exploring.
My recent discovery of Marti led me in the direction of two books. One of which was a new English translation by Carlos Aguiar of his only novel: Fatal Friendship: Lucia Jerez. The other was this one.
He was certainly a better essayist than novelist. I did enjoy the novel though.
Our America is one of the best essays I've ever had the pleasure of reading in my life.
A reasonably interesting series of stories from America's turn of the century. The language is vivid and abundant but I had trouble really getting into as anything other than a collection of quite random musings about the culture from the perspective of a Cuban immigrant. Like I said, certainly some interesting sections like his description of the Haymarket Riot, but altogether was a little underwhelmed.
Marti is a very prolific author. His poetry is expressive and his prose is also very poetic. He has incredible powers of observation and an ability to take the most mundane topic and expound upon it most eloquently. This Cuban hero went most of his life outside of his home country, but his heart and spirit are always proudly Cuban.
A fantastic portrait of Martí’s writing across his entire life. Depicts wonderfully his views on political and social issues, memorable poetry, and without a doubt the best part his journalism. He would write unabashed and transports you to the late 19th century through all the topics he writes on.
I have to say I liked this book more after discussing it in class. By itself it seemed a bit wordy. (Am I a bad Cuban for saying that?) All in all, I'm glad I read it. My favorite part were the poems.
Jose Marti was someone I always admired, but I now consider him a role model because of this book. Even from a young age, his ability to write so purely was very evident.