This suitcase goes out to fulfill a dream

 

I) Mariano and me. First step of our journey: Brussels, Ghent, Brugge and Illeghom.

Taking my son to see the Brussels Museum of Musical Instruments was my aspiration since I visited the museum for the first time.

We arrived in Brussels and visited the historical centre and the National Museum during the first day. The works of Bosch were what I was most interested in seeing again.

The next one was dedicated to the Museum of Musical Instruments.  The building where the museum is located is in the Art Nouveau style. It was, during the 19th century, the headquarters of a company and today it has been completely restored. Being there with my son and living together the experience of touring the museum was very meaningful for me.

Each floor is dedicated to different aspects of music. Starting from the basement you can go through first electronic music experiences; music produced by mechanical means, such as automatons and statues that composed a sculptural group and so on.

Getting to know instruments from other continents, such as China, India or Japan and those used in Chinese and Nepalese monasteries was very shocking and opened our perception about  the functions and sounds that music had in the past in different and distant places.

Medivial and barroquian instruments were exhibited and it was posible to listen their sound. Instruments like oboe, flute or clarinet are descendants of ancient folk instruments which sounds  we were able  to listen to.

Music is a universe largely unknown to us. Brass or keeboard instruments, for instancie, a huge variety of them that we didn´t known. Before electronic devices, like radio or televisión people spent their time making music with a huge variety of instruments.

Our visit to the musem took us five hours and we left it with a wider perception of the infinite territory that music is.

That first step of our trip continued in Ghent, a magnificent old town, with canals,  an ancient castle and numerous churches. We took the train and visited Brugge one of the days and its  wonderful museum. The museum has rooms dedicated to different centuries and styles of painting.

 We sailed along the canals of Bruges, visited the convent of the Carmelites and saw some of them in a religious service. Then we toured the place where they live, a beautiful group of houses. We returned to Ghent at dawn.

I made the mistake of planning to go to the small town of Hilleghom in The Netherlands. There were no cabs,  uber or buses at the train station, and it was necessary to ask around to get to the Bed and Breakfast in which we had our reservation. Some very young boys, who were playing. gave us some accurate and useful information in English that helped us. In spite of that, once there we were  able to spend our stay so well. We went to a neighboring town on a beautiful night walk to have a dinner in a very nice restaurant, walking trough tulip plantations, and quiet streets in which we could see very nice houses. The next day we went to Haarlem, a wonderful nearby town with a great museum. It was like stepping into the 19th century as the building looked like it did at that time.

Finally we went by train to Amsterdam to take our flight to Barcelona where a Mariano´s friend met us.  They accompanied me to my hotel, then we had a beer together and after that we said goodbye. Mariano would contiue his trip and I mine.

Some time ago, the identification of one of our suitcases was: "This suitcase goes out to fulfill a dream". This proved to be true. Every trip is a dream that we go out to fulfill, with more or less fortune.

The first step of the trip was over and the adventure was just beginning.

 

II Second Step: Basque Country, Mount San Michelle

I. I. After eleven days of traveling with Mariano I was suddenly alone in my room at the Hotel Comte, in Barcelona. The next day I had to be exactly at 9 am at Hertz ride to pick up the motorcycle with which I would cover the 477 kilometers that separated me from Leitza, in the Basque Country.

“Every time I go to get the motor bike I feel like a tingling sensation", someone once said. That emotion goes through me every time and now, on the eve of a trip through two foreign countries and on routes different from the usual ones, the feeling was even more intense.

I arrived at Hertz ride and as soon as I entered David, the manager of the agency in Barcelona told me "Hi Eduardo, this is  your Honda NC, please wait for me a moment, I'll be with you soon" and went on to attend two Germans who were picking up two motorcycles.

In front of me was a brand new Honda NC 750, black, with two side cases and a large top case.

Then I deeply enjoyed the moment and my concern about how to get out of Barcelona to the road took a back seat.

Leaving Barcelona I understood that we usually got worried due to things that end up going well and that the real problems are what surprise us, since I was able to find the highway easily.

The more I advanced, the more relaxed and happier I felt and when I was sure that I was on the road to Zaragoza I turned off the cell phone I was using for my navigation. 

Zaragoza is 200 kilometers away from the Basque Country and by the time I arrived at that point I would be closer to my destination. But when that happened, and I was approaching Tudela something abruptly changed: the sky suddenly became darker and darker, I saw lightning flashing through that gray curtain, I heard a thunder and suddenly a heavy rain began to fall without mercy.

Anyone can ride a motorcycle in 24 degrees, I thought, assuming this was part of the adventure.

Under the limited protection of some trees, I stopped to put on my rain suit as the trucks sped past me, very close to me. It was terrifying.

The worst had finnaly happended: I was under the rain,  and now I had nothing to worry about except getting to my destination.

By the time I reached Irturzum the rain had stopped and I asked some Policía Foral officers for the way to Leitza and soon after that I reached the town and Lurdes and Josetxo's house.

My cousin Lurdes heard the sound of the motorcycle and leaned out of the balcony and that was the welcoming image I saw.

I had finally arrived in the Basque Country by motorcycle and I felt completely happy.

 

III Third Step: From Leitza to France and back to Barcelona

I. I. Now and yesterday

 The days I spent in Leitza with Lurdes, Josetxo and the rest of the family got me back in time and reminded not only of the first trip but also the following ones.

It was in the second trip I knew Maricarmen Baleztena, one of my father´s  cousins, and her husband Batiste, and the following time my whole family and me were guests in Maricarmen and Batiste´s house for almost a month. We were very happy that time and we enjoyed very much staying in their house in Leitza, and in their little house in Eratsun, a small village in front of the hill where the farmhouse where my grandfather was born is located.

We went in Winter time the following year and stayed in Eratsun.   Every morning a herd of sheep  passed in front of the house and later returned  from the hills. The sound of the sheep bells awakened us in the morning and greeted us in the evening.  Our children played with the children of the village and all of them waited for the gifts from the Three Wise  Kings on january the 6 th.

That time we celebrated New Year's Eve with Maricarmen, but later,  that same year we went though a terrible situation that meant that for ten years we could not return and when we did, everything had changed.

When we were able to return Batiste, who was a very funny and generous man, had already passed away and we only stayed a few days, as Leitza was just one more point of a longer trip. The same happened the next time, and that was the last time we saw Maricarmen.

After she passed away, in 2022, I understood that it was necessary for me to go back and walk the same paths we walked when our children were small, and recover some of that old fascination.

 Everything seemed the same and at the same time different now, and I felt everything that time is taking away, and at the same time everything that remains in spite of the years.

Now I was traveling alone like the first time and what I felt that first time and now was the same.

We took walks, Lurdes took me on my pilgrimage to the farmhouse where my grandfather was born and from which he left to never return. It was not easy to get there. The mountain hamlets are abandoned and the heather with thorns grows and no one takes care of the roads anymore.

The feeling of arriving at the Catalinea Borda farmhouse cannot be put into words. It is a return to the origin, to that remote place from which I come from and to which I feel I am linked.

As the first time, We went to a cider house, spent most of the day there, talking with people that worked in that place,  and all that bond was reborn.

Saint Jean de Luz, in the French part of the Basque Country, Zarauz, Getaria, Zumaia, on the beautiful Basque coast beyond San Sebastian, Elizondo, in the Baztan Valley, the Monastery of San Miguel de Aralar were the goals of several walks, also places near Leitza, such as Zubieta, Ituren and Santesteban.

I went as far as Soraluce, where the miniseries Patria was filmed, and I left copies of my book of essays on that novel in the library.

Being in Leitza, those who were closest to Maricarmen told me about her, and I was able to visit the tomb where she and her husband Batiste rest, and it was possible to properly close that long-remembered era.

I said goodbye to my family in the Basque Country to continue my journey.

 

III.II Toward France

A new step of the trip was about to begin.

The long line of trucks and the dense traffic on the highway to Irun made me miss the calm and beauty of the Basque Country mountain roads.

Suddenly, I was alone in France with the unreliable cell phone's browser as my only help. However, like when I left Barcelona  and took the highway for the first time, the more I rode the happier I felt.

While traveling by motorcycle in a foreign country was challenging, it was also something else that is impossible to define and was very exciting.

I arrived in La Rochelle, a beautiful coastal city, one hot afternoon and after resting I spent the evening touring the coast and the old part of the city. I was as happy as I was exhausted. 

The next day I left for Mount Saint Michelle.

Images of Mount San Michelle always convey a sense of antiquity, beauty and mystery. It seems to come out of some ancient narrative that will reveal something to us.

We visited Mount Saint Michelle in 2011, arriving from Paris on a guided tour, and now, after arriving at La Rose de Ducey, the Bed and Breakfast where I was staying, I was riding around the surrounding area and could see  Mount San Michelle in the distance.

I arrived early the next morning and, after leaving the motor bike in the parking lot, and going tot the information center, I took the shuttle to Mount Saint Michelle.

Getting there was an amazing experience. There was a man at the entrance who gave me a piece of advice. He recommended that I visit the abbey and the monastery  in the upper part first and, just after doing that, visit the lower zone.

On the terrace in front of the entrance of the abbey there is a beautiful view overlooking the islet and allowing to see the mainland in the distance.

The altar, the refectory, the cloister, the various chapels form an endless labyrinth of rooms, with corridors, stairways and other places.

From the base of the rocky place towards the abbey, what were once medieval dwellings are now stores, hotels, restaurants and some homes.

The contrast between this place and the abbey and the monastery is very huge and as the morning progressed the place was filling up with people: schoolchildren, groups and visitors. Then, I went out for a walk along the beach and I remainded there for a long time, I went back to the lower part later and finnaly I took the bus to go back to the Information Center, pick my things up and leave.

 It was still early and I decided to go to Saint Malo, about 40 kilometers away. The navigator took me through places that led nowhere, and when I finally found the right road I headed there. I was a little short of arriving when heavy rain came down; without the protection of the right equipment I ended up soaked and, as I could, I returned to La Rose de Ducey.

The weather forecast indicated an 80% chance of rain for the next day, but by leaving early I was able to anticipate the rain, leave Ducey and make it safely to the next stop, in Gradignan.

Once there, I walked to the coast and on the beach there was a Jazz band and two dancers playing on the promenade near the beach.

The trip was almost finishing and the following day, early in the morning I headed to  Barcelona, my final destination. Not long after leaving Gradignan, I found myself in Spain.

Something happened on the way: I stopped to refuel and when I resumed the march all indication of the route to follow had disappeared from the screen of my cell phone, and it was impossible to get it to connect again.

I decided to keep riding paying attention to the signals of the highway, which were full of indications to different cities and villages. Almost arriving in Barcelona I stopped to refuel again. I was hopeful that the browser would be able to reconnect there, but it was still the same as before.

While I was thinking about what I could do in this situation, I decided to ask for help from a young woman who worked at the gas station. Apologizing for the interruption, I explained my problem. She checked my phone and thought that it should bee able to indicate the route, because everything was correct. Suddenly, she noticed that the phone was set to indicate the route on foot. She rectified the indication and the route magically appeared.

It was one more example of the solidarity of  people on the road, in the moments when you need it most.

I thanked her deeply and sincerely and headed to Barcelona, a huge city where the entrance is long, fast, with tunnels and very dense traffic.

The fear of getting lost again due to new wrong indications of the browser, the impossibility of predicting what other inconveniences might arise made me not try to enter any other town or city on my return, and at 12 noon, without any problems, I arrived at Hertz Ride, greeted and hugged David, who was waiting for me at five in the afternoon, and ended my trip.

I still had a lot to know, a lot to do, but I had lived a new and different adventure and I felt enriched just for that.

In my mind, I said good bye to the Honda NC 750 in which I had traveled 4000 kilometres  and which I will never forget.

 

I have fulfilled my goals: going with Mariano to Brussels Musical Instruments Museam; going back to the Basque Country, meeting  my family again and traveling by motor bike.

It has been an excepctional experience and now I come back to my ordinary life.

 

Al rescate de una materia literaria: Historias Robadas, de Jorge Dietsch (MB Editorial, 2023)

 

 

            “Los cuentos reales, expresión que tal vez se me haya pegado del gran Abelardo Castillo (`Los mundos reales´) debe su nombre a que la mayoría de estos cuentos nacieron de historias reales, escuchadas en conversaciones propias o ajenas, vividas o  transpuestas lo más poéticamente que pude a la palabra escrita”. Tal es la propuesta del libro de cuentos y relatos Historias Robadas, El Chimenea y Otros Cuentos Reales de Jorge Dietsch.

            La vida es materia de la literatura, pero requiere ser elaborada literariamente. Algo sucedido, contado, escuchado (a un paciente, o venido por una vía indirecta), perdura y circula en esa elaboración. Después de todo, el momento de la oralidad estaba destinado a no desaparecer. La literatura es esa memoria, ese apresar el momento, fijar la experiencia y hacerla circular hasta donde sea posible.

            Esta oralidad fijada, llevada lo más poéticamente que se puede a la escritura es un postulado tan central que en las Notas para la gratitud, en las últimas páginas del libro, se nos cuenta el origen de cada una de las narraciones y podemos rastrear en ese detalle cuánto hay de sucedido y cuánto de elaborado.

            Registros

            El narrador no se limita a contar algo sino a encontrar la inflexión capaz de plasmar aquella experiencia, la impresión que produce y el significado que hay en ella. El lenguaje, entonces, cambia y lo hace por medio de un trabajo estilístico que al menos tiene cuatro variantes: el del lenguaje en aquello que tiene de simbólico; el diálogo puro; la desaparición del narrador ante la primacía del hecho en sí mismo y la voz reflexiva y lírica de El chimenea, cuyo textura es propia y diferente a la de los otros textos.

            Cosas imposibles de ser dichas

Dividido entonces el libro por registros, en los primeros cuentos el lenguaje trabaja desde lo alusivo de la palabra, en una economía y precisión de recursos que pone en primer plano la imagen que se desea plasmar y su significado.

En De la mano, por ejemplo, una niña asiste al regreso de los soldados sobrevivientes de La Gran Guerra (1914-1918) –entre los que espera encontrar a su padre- y el narrador lo describe con el menor despliegue posible de palabras:

Desde el fondo de la calle los vio aparecer. Venían maltrechos, vendados, con los ojos salidos por la fiebre y el hambre. Con el fusil al hombro como un peso que llevaban en un último esfuerzo. Malheridos y enteros. Y pasaban tan cerca que con solo estirarse podía tocarlos. Pero tuvo la sensación de que eran tan frágiles que si los tocaba, como un trozo de tierra seca se desmoronarían en pedazos.

Por eso, cuando encontró su mirada, se metió con cuidado en las filas, de vuelta a casa, como le había prometido a su madre esa mañana.

(De la mano, en “Historias Robadas”, Edit. MB, Miramar, 2023, pág. 10)

            La palabra expresa en lo que omite y lo que elige decir: la fragilidad, el desamparo, la atroz incertidumbre (¿volverá, no volverá?). Al hacerlo también, sin mencionarla expresamente, caracteriza a la guerra como una maquinaria cruel y absurda que se apropia de las vidas inocentes.

            En la historia lo que se plasma es precisamente eso: el triunfo –por mero azar- de la inocencia y el sentimiento puro.

            Los cuentos de este registro están vinculados precisamente por lo no dicho, por aquello que se alude, lo mismo un vínculo no confesado (Recuerdos en sepia) como algo que aconteció en un lugar que hoy es irreconocible, como en Esa esquina que, junto con De la mano son acaso los cuentos más notables de la serie.

            El personaje de Esa esquina se encuentra de pie en un cruce (en la referencia del final sabremos que es el de San Juan y Libertad):

Hacía grandes esfuerzos, sobre todo en los últimos años, para no tener traspiés con su memoria, pero ella le sorprendía cuando menos imaginaba. Una vez atrapado, no tenía forma de salir. Menos ahora, que el tiempo le había vuelto débil la voluntad.

-¿Sabía usted, joven, que hace setenta años había aquí una laguna?- le dijo a un muchacho que pasaba a su lado con apuro.

El joven lo miró, sorprendido, y atinó a darle la hora […]

Miró para todos lados buscando alguna señal, algo que le indicara que esos recuerdos agolpados habían sido reales. Si descubriera un árbol, pensó, un charco, un pájaro que busque todavía esos rastros me creerían.

(Esa esquina, obra citada, pág. 19)

           

Desde el comienzo la propuesta contiene los elementos centrales de la narración: la memoria que conduce a un lugar que pugna por sobrevivir y termina prevaleciendo sobre el presente; la imposibilidad de compartir esa experiencia con los demás y la superposición del futuro y del pasado.  

Este último elemento va expandiéndose a lo largo de la narración a grado tal que será aquello que la  resuelva en la indefinición: en efecto, no sabemos qué sucedió, si es que algo sucedió, con el personaje.

Si bien el narrador declara que se trata de historias oídas, robadas, o tomadas prestadas a otros, son algo más que eso: constituyen la materia de un trabajo estilístico gobernado por una idea: el rescate de aquello que se aleja.

Queda la duda acerca de si el autor utiliza esos materiales para una obra gobernada por leyes puramente literarias o si es capaz de plasmar un resultado literario a partir de aquella experiencia que tomó como punto de partida.

Aquella mañana […] había visto alejarse a otra niña, mucho tiempo atrás. Casi en el mismo lugar, a orillas de la laguna, después de que él le dijera que le gustaba. Roja de vergüenza, la muchacha corrió por el borde sin detenerse ni mirar atrás, sin tropezar siquiera con los matorrales de colas de zorro y junco que crecían alrededor.

(Esa esquina, pág. 21)    

            En el final, como fragmentos, escenas del presente interrumpen el recuerdo, que sin embargo prevalece y cierra la historia. Salvo eso, ignoramos lo que en verdad sucedió con el personaje y ese es el efecto del cuento. El narrador nos induce a creer en un final que no deseamos aceptar y buscamos otras posibilidades que nos permitan rescatar al personaje:

El semáforo dejó de jugar con las luces y se apagó definitivamente. Desapareció bajo el agua.

El miraba recostado contra el muro. Los autos dejaron de pasar. Sentía crecer las plantas […]

Sintió que Diana lo llamaba. De lejos le decía que a ella también le gustaba.

(Esa esquina, pp. 22/23)

 

            Diálogos

            Hay varias funciones del diálogo: como modo de  plantear la acción (Un buen tipo), de desarrollar una situación insólita (Solo quedaron cenizas o Madres eran las de antes). De este modo, el diálogo aparece asociado a situaciones graciosas, inimaginables –como pedir rescate por las cenizas de un familiar- o curiosas pero posibles (Diálogo de sordos):

                        -Sí, soy yo el médico

                        -Hola doctor, habla la hermana de su paciente. De Elida, Elida Sánchez.

                        -Ah, sí, y ¿qué anda pasando?

                        -Está con un problemita. Tiene un dolor. En la barriga, creo.

                        -Sería mejor que ella me lo explicara. ¿Puedo hablar con ella?

-No, doctor, ¿no lo recuerda? Mi hermana es sorda (Usted puede hablar pero ella no lo va a escuchar) […]

-Y ella,  ¿qué señas le hace?

-La panza, se señala la panza. Arriba

-¿Arriba a la derecha?

-¿Derecha de quién?

-Suya

-¿Mía o de ella?

(Diálogo de sordos, ob. cit., pp. 67/68)

            Concisión, rapidez, efectividad, la maestría de su manejo lo hace el único instrumento posible.

Con un registro diferente, las anécdotas de la última parte nos indican que nada hay ajeno a la literatura.

El Chimenea y Pedro Salvadores

“Doña Conce, hace muchos años, me contó la historia de un familiar suyo que en España, fue ocultado por los habitantes del pueblo…para evitar que lo enviaran a la guerra. Creo que se trataba de la última guerra Carlista…en una de esas chimeneas enormes que había entonces en las casas” señala el autor en el epígrafe de esta extensa narración, que guarda estrecha semejanza con la de Pedro Salvadores, de Borges, en “Elogio de la sombra.”

A lo largo de las doce secciones en que se divide, el texto es una reflexión lírica acerca del absurdo de la guerra, y la propia condición del confinado:

Así hemos seguido viviendo, Así estamos unos fuera otros dentro de estas honduras que nos asustan. Así estoy yo, en este pozo que soy yo mismo, por fuera y por dentro, a la espera no sé de qué, tal vez de algo que salte o que vibre y nos señale que por allí puede estar la respuesta o la pregunta, porque es este asunto no sabemos siquiera la pregunta. Ahí sí que intuimos  que hay algo, algo que no tiene respuesta pero no sabemos siquiera a qué.

(El chimenea, ob. cit., pág. 108)

            Un punto de partida remoto es a la vez un universal capaz de expresar la fragilidad de una condición que nos indica que, de uno u otro modo, todos estamos encerrados por algo que sucede más allá de nuestro entendimiento pero que nos oprime fuertemente, como lo señala Borges: “Como todas las cosas, el destino de Pedro Salvadores nos parece un símbolo de algo que estamos a punto de comprender.” (Jorge Luís Borges, Pedro Salvadores, “Elogio de la Sombra”, 1969, Obras completas, Emecé, 1977, pág. 995)

   

Jorge Dietsch ha dicho que es un médico que escribe, definición que deberíamos reformular en un nuevo enunciado: es un escritor que es médico o un médico que es escritor, ya que en esa relación no es posible determinar cuál de los términos debe ir primero.

            Algo es cierto, una instancia se nutre de la otra y el amor a la profesión se manifiesta como amor a la literatura y, como en este libro, al rescate de aquello que merece ser materia de esa literatura.

 

Eduardo Balestena

 

 

The keys to this secret (The attack on Pearl Harbor, a different version)

 

The attack by the Japanese Empire on December 7, 1941 on the Pearl Harbor base, its subsidiary airfields and Honolulu is a recurring -not to say obsessive- theme for me since, stranded in Patagonia due to mandatory quarantine, in March/April 2020, several times I watched the movie Tora, Tora, Tora! on an old twenty-inch TV set.

When I returned home, getting the film must have been the second or third thing I did. I began to research the subject from that point of view, circumscribing it to the political circumstances of the time, the reference to information about the ships attacked, the places and the way in which the aggression took place.

It was only when the magazine Élite published the article I wrote in December 2021, on the occasion of the eightieth anniversary of the attack, that my point of view changed radically.

It so happened that when reading this text, my friend Carlos Ure mentioned the book The Final Secret of Pearl Harbor (The Roosevelt Administration's Contribution to the Japanese Attack), by Rear Admiral Robert A. Theobald (1954) where the thesis is sustained that both the foreign policy of President Roosevelt (Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces), as well as different measures and certain practices, were aimed at inducing the attack and that it was successfully carried out so that, breaking with the isolationist position that prevailed in the United States of America, the country would enter the Second World War. Even the day and time of the attack was perfectly known, as well as the size of the force that would carry it out.

Something similar had happened in 1861, when then President Abraham Lincoln maneuvered the South to attack Confederate troops at Fort Sumter and initiate hostilities

Fiction, non-fiction

It was a sentence from that book that triggered the writing of my latest novel, The Keys to that Secret. The sentence in question was from Admiral William Standley, who was a member of the first commission that investigated the aggression: "While at my home in San Diego, California, I received at 10:00 a.m. on December 17, 1941, a telegram..." The call informed him that he would be a member of the Roberts Commission.

From that point, having read and signed the book by Theobald, who, as a destroyer captain, was in the attack, the novel burst forth and was written through me over the course of a month.

I invented a character who would be Admiral Standley's assistant, who is the narrator of the story, one who, almost from the beginning, became independent of the central events and made his own way.

The action follows the investigation: the events have already happened, but it is necessary to determine in what way and how they unfolded and to be able to answer the questions: How could it happen? And can something of that magnitude be the responsibility of only two people, the base commander and the Pacific Fleet commander?

The novel begins, then, at the end.

 

The reverse sequence

In a historical narration, the facts are usually taken from the beginning to their development and end, and in enumerating them, they are explained in a certain way, one that is taken for granted and never questioned.

Thus, the expansionism of the dictatorship of the army that ruled Japan, the occupation of territories in China and French Indochina, found a threat in the American presence in those latitudes, with the Pacific Fleet anchored in Pearl Harbor -as a deterrent- and an army in the Philippines.

In this logic, given the intention of forming an empire in Asia and opposing U.S. policy by neutralizing U.S. naval power for at least six months, this empire could be consolidated and America could be forced to negotiate with it. The best way-according to Admiral Ysoroku Yamamoto's plan-would be to carry out a surprise attack on the Pacific Fleet. The postulate was itself highly debatable, at a time when it was aircraft carriers and aircraft that would decide the battle, not battleships, the attack itself was a test of that.

This is, more or less, the official version, to which is added all the historical information about the events.

The novel begins at the end, on November 17, 1941, when all this had already happened and the Roberts Commission, the first to investigate the events at the place where they occurred and as soon as they happened, was beginning to meet.

The historical novel, or a novel with a historical theme, implies two operations: to organize dispersed facts, causal or linked to the political situation of the moment, into a narrative structure and to make them plausible and from there a new and different explanation emerges. Otherwise, such a narrative would have no greater interest than the story itself, which is already known.

This is precisely what happens in this case.

The hidden and the evident

Several things emerge clearly in the face of this rupture in the known discourse: that the first commission of inquiry was aimed at determining the responsibilities of military commanders, especially those in Hawaii, and not the authorities in Washington; that at least twice (in January and October 1941) they had been aware - by two different means - of the intentions of the Japanese, and that, since before 1941, the messages written by means of the complex "Purple Code" between the Japanese government and its embassies and diplomatic agencies had been deciphered, but that this crucial information was not forwarded to the commanders in Hawaii, neither by means of encrypted messages nor by delivery through emissaries, as was the case with those who were included in the list of deliveries drawn up by the navy and the army. In other words, they were deliberately excluded from the list of recipients.

The Pacific Fleet had been sent in April 1940, from its base in San Diego to Pearl Harbor, arguing that this would have a deterrent effect; however, while anchored in Hawaii, Japan invaded French Indochina, that is to say that the presence of the fleet had no effect on Japan's policy.

The squadron was not seaworthy for lack of the necessary supply trains; security conditions were less than minimal - as the attack showed - and this made it a decoy for the Japanese. Admiral Richardson, then commander of the fleet, insisted on these points on several occasions; he was suddenly relieved of his command.

If we were to place these circumstances at the beginning of the narration of what happened, it would not allow us to conclude that it was a surprise attack. The sense is inverted by including these facts.

The problem we face then is that of argumentation and the question would be: how do we accept as true a version that the rigor of the arguments does not allow us to arrive at?

Two instances

Although the central motif of the novel is the attack, its causes and what happened afterwards, its real theme is the truth, the possibility of accessing it and asserting it, which entails the question of the general credibility that is installed on the basis of a fallacious version.

Argumentation is the presupposition of this process aimed at ascertaining the truth; this does not consist in a version believed by consensus but in the fact that the statements of the facts coincide with what actually happened and that it is possible to explain them by the way in which an indication or an event can fit into another and lead to a conclusion.

There are two main parts, one could be called research/reflection -they take place in different sequences and places: San Diego, Oahu, Washington, in 1941, 1942 and 1951- and the other Significance/conclusion -which takes place in Provincetown, New England, 1970-.

One of the parts is coeval and contemporary to the facts. It is there where the findings are produced that allow us to reach a conclusion that is not politically correct. The other places them in the perspective of time and of what was preserved: the secret, the false version, the consensus.

The two parts are integrated into a single purpose that guides Peter Welch, the central character: to impose that truth that emerges from the facts themselves and that explains them in their totality.

It is a mechanism composed of numerous pieces, many of them unknown to those who maintained the official version: Tokyo's interest in knowing the exact location of the ships at the Pearl Harbor base, which emerges from many of the deciphered messages; the messages of the "Code of the Winds" - the one corresponding to the hostilities between Japan and the United States was "East Wind Rain" and of "The Hidden Words" - the word corresponding to the beginning of the hostilities with the United States was "Minami". From both it was clear that war would soon break out between Japan and the United States. However, the commanders in Hawaii were - systematically - kept in the dark about this information.

Coupled with the interest in knowing the location of the ships at Pearl Harbor, the possible conclusion is only one: it was well known that, once the deadline for diplomatic negotiation was over, the attack would take place. A message had warned that thereafter "things would happen automatically" but that the impression must be given that a diplomatic solution could still be found.

While the information was methodically withheld from the Hawaiian commanders, two warnings were issued to them about the imminence of hostilities, but noting that they were expected to occur in distant theaters, such as the Kra Peninsula or Borneo. These were general warnings, of an ambiguous nature, not accompanied by concrete measures of preparation and enlistment, as would have been appropriate.

On November 26, the government had intimidated Japan - by means of what is known as the Hull note, after the Secretary of State who drafted it - to withdraw from China as a requirement for unfreezing Japanese assets in the United States and lifting the embargo on supplies, in response to Japan's imperialist policy in China.

Message 901 from Tokyo to the Japanese embassy in Washington warned that the reply to the Hull note would be sent in a long message in 14 parts, 13 of which were received and decoded throughout Saturday, December 6. No sooner had the transcripts of the first 13 parts been delivered than Roosevelt said to Harry Hopkins, his secretary, "this means war," yet the government's inaction was absolute: no action was taken and no communications were sent to the Hawaiian commanders.

The fourteenth part arrived between 4 and 6 a.m. on Sunday, December 7, and was accompanied by the indication that the message should be delivered at the 13th hour to Secretary Hull and that the cipher machines and all secret documents were to be destroyed.

Three times before in history, the Japanese had initiated hostilities by timing the delivery of an ultimatum with a surprise attack. Even knowing this, neither the Army Chief of Staff, General Marshall, nor the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Stark, alerted the Hawaiian commanders by any appropriate means or arranged for concrete readiness measures.

 

"The truth was not for public knowledge."

Such is the title of the chapter in Theobald's book that deals with the activity of the eight commissions that investigated the events.

In the case of the first one, it was hastily constituted and, despite the serious irregularities that occurred during its work and the dissidence of Admiral Stadler, it only held accountable the commanders of Hawaii, who were removed from their posts before the commission had determined whether or not they had any responsibility.

The subsequent Army and Navy commissions, on the other hand, held the Washington authorities, Army Chief of Staff General Marshall and Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Stark and other senior officers accountable. The next step was for the Secretaries of War and the Navy to set and enforce appropriate sanctions. Instead, they formed two other commissions aimed at pressuring the witnesses of the previous commissions to modify their testimonies, which finally happened.

When the Senate Bicameral Commission was formed, its authorities decided to incorporate, reaching the unmanageable figure of 40 volumes, all the documentation of the previous commissions so that the prosecution evidence, which had previously remained classified, would be diluted in this mass of paper.

The Democratic majority effectively manipulated the hearings, the Republican minority was ineffective in the interrogations and the only responsible persons were again, for the majority, Admiral Kimmel and General Short, as if a disaster of such magnitude could be the responsibility of two persons.

 In his diaries, the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, detailed all the circumstances related to such a fateful period. However, the Bicameral Commission did not request its inclusion as a documentary annex. This, says Rear Admiral Tehobald, as well as the so-called "White House File", with all the communications between President Roosevelt, General Marschall, Admiral Stark and the highest authorities in Washington, are the keys to that secret that hides the true reasons and circumstances for which the attack took place.

 

"The day that will live in infamy."

The message from Tokyo was to be delivered precisely at 1 p.m. half an hour before the attack. It was known that because of the time chosen, the target could not be other than the Pearl Harbor base.

The length of the message, the decoding, translation and typing of the message caused the delivery to be delayed, occurring fifty minutes after the attack.

Thus, the attack was "surprise".

This and the speech of President Roosevelt pointing out that December 7, 1941 was a date that will live in infamy, installed in the public opinion the surprise character that was so useful to the government, because already in wartime, it became impossible to go back on the unjust measures taken against the commanders of Hawaii before any investigation and all the effort was warlike.

The infamy, indeed, was such, but it was not the one referred to by President Roosevelt, but it resided in a policy that cost a very high number of lives, material losses and resources, to force the entry into a war that in any case was inevitable.

 

 

 

Eduardo Balestena 

Ray Bradbury planteaba nuestros propios interrogantes en un cuento de anticipación

 

 

Principio del formulario

Final del formulario

              La gran pregunta

La pregunta que nos surge hoy es si la tecnología nos libera o nos aprisiona, haciéndonos más dependientes de ella y menos capaces por nosotros mismos y limitando nuestras habilidades al solo manejo de aplicaciones y un teléfono celular.

            Las habilidades tecnológicas  parecen estar desplazando a las esencialmente humanas. Sabemos –o muchos saben- manipular aparatos pero ignoramos las preguntas centrales, como aquella que se interroga acerca de si todo eso habrá de depararnos la felicidad o la liberación, o si esas cosas dependen de algo mucho más simple, que es el arte de vivir, que a veces se limita a sobrevivir en un mundo con cada vez más flujo de información pero al mismo tiempo más frívolo y superficial.

            Estos interrogantes, que parecen surgir ante la realidad compleja de ser gobernados por sistemas que no conocemos ni podemos entender, ya estaban presentes en un cuento que Ray Bradbury escribió en 1953, hace 70 años

           

El asesino

 The Murderer –El asesino- es un episodio del El teatro de Ray Bradbury, un programa de televisión transmitido desde 1985 a 1992.

El episodio en cuestión está basado en el cuento del mismo título, escrito en 1953.

Nacido en 1920, Ray Bradbury era un escritor joven y maduro como tal al momento de plasmar esta historia; para entonces ya había escrito uno de sus libros centrales: la serie de cuentos que integran su volumen Crónicas marcianas  (1950)[1], y su magistral novela Farenheit 451 fue publicada durante el mismo año en el que El asesino fue escrito.

 Compacto, intenso, en más de una manera violento, todos los principales motivos de  Bradbury aparecen en este cuento: el hombre dominado por la tecnología, etiquetado por las autoridades como un inadaptado y  aislado en el seno de un modo de vida frívolo y superficial.

 

La historia

En el propio comienzo, un psiquiatra es enviado a un gran edificio. Su misión es examinar a un prisionero apodado “el asesino”. Una seguidilla de insistentes ruidos surge tanto a su entrada al edificio como a lo largo de su camino. Permanentemente, el psiquiatra debe atender llamadas de su hijo, su secretaria y su esposa, demandándole distintas cosas, varias de ellas intrascendentes.

Sin embargo, luego de traspasar una entrada que conduce a la celda donde está el prisionero, apenas entra en el lugar para entrevistarlo percibe un hondo silencio y quietud. Desde un rincón de la celda, saliendo de la oscuridad, “el asesino” aparece.

Mr. Brock, un importante arquitecto, es el prisionero entrevistado y el personaje principal. Hace notar al psiquiatra que el silencio se debe a que de un puntapié “asesinó” a la radio, luego de ello toma un aparato de comunicación que el doctor lleva en su solapa y lo muerde, inutilizándolo. El médico le hace notar que ese dispositivo cuesta trescientos dólares que el prisionero deberá pagar, pero a éste eso no le importa. Tan pronto como el psiquiatra saca su grabador para obtener un registro de la entrevista, Mr. Brock se lo quita y lo deja caer en una jarra llena de agua. Deberá pagar otros trescientos dólares por eso.

“El asesino” explica que él no es un hombre violento más que con las máquinas a las que llama “jak, jak”.

El prisionero sostiene la idea de que teléfonos y aparatos drenan nuestra personalidad y  demandan nuestra continua atención, como niños malcriados. “Nuestra rutina diaria es una gran escucha”, dice, “una sinfonía de ruidos y una cacofonía visual.”  

Luego de esa introducción, Mr. Brock narra al doctor su primer acto de rebelión. Su primera víctima fue su teléfono, arrojado a la basura. Después de eso comenzó a destruir todos los aparatos que encontró en su camino 

Sostiene que para él eso sería el comienzo de una rebelión que esperaba que fuera seguida por muchos otros, ya que la tecnología invade toda nuestra vida y un mundo sin ella parece inconcebible para la mayoría. Ese quizás sea el verdadero problema, la incapacidad de concebir otro mundo posible que aquel que nos es dado y que, dentro de su legalidad, lo único que cabe es perfeccionar más y más la tecnología que lo rige.

El doctor piensa que la actitud de Mr. Brock es extrema y violenta, pero al final se da cuenta de que, al menos en un aspecto, “el asesino” tiene razón, ya que el propio psiquiatra se siente abrumado, invadido y sobrepasado por la tecnología.

En el final, el doctor, luego de una serie de interrupciones e “invasiones”,  también decide destruir todos los aparatos que hay en su propio escritorio.

     

            Un mundo gobernado por dispositivos

            El hecho de que “El asesino” sea presentado como un villano en el cuento es una ironía. Hay daños a lo largo del texto pero ninguna muerte. Los aparatos son asumidos como seres vivos, objetos valiosos y sagrados para la sociedad, que no concibe la vida sin ellos y que legitima que puedan gobernar esa vida. Empezar una rebelión contra ellos es considerado un crimen.

            Tal es la ironía central planteada, que es la propia base del cuento

            La concepción que de la tecnología aparece en el cuento es extrema, ya que aquella no es negativa ni positiva en sí misma, sino por el uso que de ella se haga, que depende de las personas, que pueden usarla como herramientas o hacerla algo esencial de sus vidas.

            El personaje vive de acuerdo a sus ideas, tratando de mejorar a la sociedad de acuerdo a su propia convicción, poniendo sus propias ideas en práctica, con ello asume que su concepto es único y que vale la pena imponerlo. Sin embargo, este elemento funciona como un recurso del narrador para colocar a la tecnología en el centro de su análisis, exagerando su poder, presencia y significación.       

            La brújula moral de Mr. Brock finalmente lo conduce al sistema penal. Él está preparado para aceptar la condena social porque se asume a sí mismo como un héroe.

            Una variante es pensar que aquel que se resiste al uso de la tecnología va siendo socialmente marginado por el propio modo de funcionamiento social, que demanda cada vez mayor complejidad en cosas que supuestamente deberían facilitarnos la vida pero que no siempre lo hacen.

            Hoy, si caminamos por las calles de grandes ciudades a gran mayoría de las personas irá como hipnotizada, con su teléfono en la mano y muchos hablando solos (lo digno de interés siempre parece estar en otro sitio y no en aquello más cercano). Como un gurú infalible su teléfono los guía, les dice a dónde ir, a dónde doblar, en un mundo donde el sentido último sin embargo queda más y más lejos, fuera de la frontera de cualquier navegador pero ellos no lo saben. Navegamos seguros con Google ¿pero rumbo a dónde?

Si pensamos que “El asesino” fue escrito hace setenta años, forzoso es asumir lo visionario que fue Ray Bradbury al concebir este texto.

Hoy en día, la tecnología nos modela de una forma que seguramente sería inimaginable para los lectores de 1953, pero no para un escritor visionario.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAWd0H9OknA&t=8s

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[1] Jorge Luis Borges wrote a very laudatory prologue of this book in the argentine edition.