Translated by Danica Jorden
The Uruguayan writer and journalist, author of emblematic books such as “Open Veins of Latin America,” “Memory of Fire,” and “The Book of Embraces,” died at 74 in Montevideo. The jury that awarded him the Doctorate Honoris Causa of the University of Havana in 2001 called him “a redeemer of the real and collective memory of South America and a chronicler of his time.”
Eduardo Germán Hughes Galeano was born in Montevideo on 3 September 1940, son of Eduardo Hughes Roosen and Licia Ester Galeano Muñoz, whose last name he took as writer and journalist. When he was a teenager, he began publishing cartoons in El Sol (The Sun), a socialist newspaper in Uruguay, under the pseudonym “Gius.” He also worked as a labourer in an insecticide factory and signboard painter, among other jobs, despite coming from an upper class family.
He began his career as a journalist in the early 1960s, as editor of the weekly Marcha (March) and the daily Época (Epoch). At the time of his country’s coup d’état, he was imprisoned and later set himself up in Argentina. A decade afterwards, he became director of cultural and political magazine Crisis, founded by Federico Vogelius (1919-1986). “It was a great act of faith in the solidary and creative human word…. To believe in the word, in that word, Crisis chose to be silent. When the military dictatorship prevented it from saying what it needed to say, it refused to continue speaking,” he said when it closed in August 1976.
That same year, his name made the wanted list of the Argentine military dictatorship, presided upon by Jorge Rafael Videla, and he travelled to Spain. There, he wrote the “Memory of Fire” trilogy (“The Births” in 1982; “The Faces and the Masks” in 1984, and “The Century of Wind” in 1986), in which he revisited the history of the Latin American continent.
Chronicler of his time, the vision of a united Latin America was reflected in his works, going back to titles like “The Next Days” (1963), the “Vagamundo” (Vagaworld) (1973) stories, “The Book of Embraces” (1989), and “Paws Up: The Story of the World Upside Down” (1989).
In 1985, he returned to Montevideo when Julio María Saguinetti assumed the country’s presidency by means of democratic elections. Together with Mario Benedetti, Hugo Alfaro, among others, he founded the weekly Brecha (Opening, or Breach). And then his own publication, El Canchito (a term of endearment referring to a little pig). He also joined the “National Pro-Referendum Commission ” (between 1987-1989), which was constituted in order to revoke the Law for the Expiry of State Punitive Presumption, enacted in December 1986 to impede judgement of crimes committed during the military dictatorship in his country (1973-1985).
For his work, Galeano was honoured with the Casa de las Américas Prize in 1975 and 1978; the Uruguay Ministry of Culture Prize in 1982, 1984, and 1986; the American Book Award in 1989, the Stig Dagerman Prize in 2010, and the Alba Prize for Literature in 2013.
Upon receiving the Doctorate Honoris Causa from the University of Havana in 2001, the writer said, “I have loved this island in the only dignified way, with its lights and shadows,” while the jury definitively called the writer and journalist “a redeemer of the real and collective memory of South America and a chronicler of his time.”
In 2004 he wrote a “Letter to Sir Future,” which summarised his ambitions. “We are being left without a world. The violent kick it like a ball. The sires of war play with it like a hand grenade; and the voracious squeeze and drain it like a lemon. At this rate, I’m afraid, sooner rather than later the world will be no more than a dead stone revolving in space, without earth, without water, without air, without a soul,” he warned in this letter. “That’s what it’s about, Sir Future. I ask you, we ask you, not to put us out. To be, to exist, we need you to continue to be, we need you to continue to exist,” he wrote. “For you to help us defend our house, which is the house of time.”
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In remembrance of Eduardo, I sent this yesterday when I heard of his passing to a few dear friends to whom I am connected in four countries:
The Man in the Moon
When I was a child I saw the man in the moon. It was clear, distinct, easily visible. I saw his face, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, always smiling. This was not my imagination, but you will say it is. You are wrong. I saw the man and he illuminated the night, brightly, unmistakably. He was there always, for many years.
I don’t remember how old I was when one day I thought about the man and the moon and I looked up one night to see him, and his face was gone. I remember I felt surprised. Where did he go? Was it just a child’s dream?
No. I saw the man in the moon too long, too often, in its intense brilliance. It was no dream and it was not imagination any more than the atoms that make up the earth are not real simply because I cannot see them. And I would be a fool to deny them.
Thus, I do not deny the man in the moon. Eduardo Galeano is the man in the moon that lights up the darkness. And while the news says that he is gone, he is not. Here he lives…in my heart, in my memory, even today in every way that is real. Eduardo lives!