Katherine M Hedeen - “Raul’s poetics challenge US-centric notions of queerness”

How did you discover Raúl Gomez Jattin’s poetry?

In 1997, I visited Medellín, Colombia. While I was there, I was able to be part of Festival Internacional de Poesía de Medellín – one of the most important international poetry festivals in the world. I heard about Raúl for the first time then because he had just died. He was a close friend of the Cuban poet Víctor Rodríguez Núñez, who is also my husband. He was devastated by the news. All the organizers of the festival — a rebellious lot — loved Raúl, and so I began to read him.

What were some of the personal and political reasons that led you and Olivia Lott to translate his work into English?

In terms of the personal, from the beginning I thought that Raúl’s poetry needed to be translated. He is not an overly well-known poet in Spanish let alone English. In my translation workshops at Kenyon College, I used to assign students specific poets to translate, normally ones that had not been translated into English yet. I assigned Raúl to Olivia Lott, a student in the class. This eventually became her Honors project in Spanish, which I advised. Later on, she asked me to collaborate with her on the book.

As for the political, I am drawn to Raúl’s work for a lot of reasons. His voice is quite unique in Colombian poetry and in Latin American poetry more broadly, particularly because he offers readers a queer poetic subject that defies easy definitions.

How would you describe his place in Colombian literature today? Is he being more widely read, anthologised and taught?

Raúl is more recognized in Colombian poetry than he used to be, though he certainly does not receive the attention he deserves. It is my impression that he is still considered a “poète maudit”. It is a term in French; we really do not have a term for it in English. Maybe “cursed poet”. His readers are attracted to his rejection of bourgeois norms on the one hand and to his fierce queerness on the other.

Why did you choose Almost Obscene as the title for this book? It sounds like a trigger warning for prudes. Was that your intention?

We chose Almost Obscene first of all because it is the title of one Raúl’s most beautiful poems. I think, too, it demonstrates well the conflict and tension so present in most of Raúl’s work. His poems are, at once, erotic, sensual, heartbreaking, raw, tender, and often times trite. We thought Almost Obscene encapsulated the complexities of his work well.

How have your translations of his poetry been received by LGBTQIA+ communities in Latin America and the wider Spanish-reading world?

I am unsure of how it has been received in Spanish, since the book is in English translation and it is not a bilingual edition. I can tell you that it has been well-received by queer communities in the US. I am happy about that. One of the reasons I believe in this project so much is because Raúl’s openly queer poetics challenge US-centric notions of what queerness is. His poetry complicates any preconceived notion a US reader might have about Latin American or Colombian queerness.

In the poem “Poets My Love”, he writes: “Poets my love are/just to be read So don’t pay attention/ to what they do in real life.” What do you make of these lines? 

There are a few things going on. First off, these lines reflect a common theme throughout Raúl’s poetry. There is, at once, an intensity and determination to be as true to himself and his desires as possible, and then the inevitable guilt that comes from society’s repression of those desires. At the same time, I think Raúl is being slightly coy with his readers; he is suggesting that despite what seems like confessional poetry, the poet is not showing us all his cards. I like that he reminds us of the separation between poet and poetic subject. Readers often just assume the “I” in the poem is the poet. Raúl is telling us that’s not necessarily so.

He worked as an actor, playwright and theatre director for several years. How was his craft as a poet influenced by his work for the stage?

I don’t have a definitive answer for that, though I would conjecture that some of the more (melo)dramatic parts of his poetry as well as the way he “performed” them at readings were related to his experience in the theatre.

Much of his poetry is dark as it delves into loneliness and schizophrenia. What feelings did you go through while engaging closely with this work? How did it affect you?

Raúl’s work is deeply compelling and often heartbreaking. It is impossible to translate The Book of Madness (the last poems that appear in the collection), for example, and not be affected by it. At the same time, those poems specifically are so valuable because it is rare to see mental illness documented as poetry in such a direct, genuine, honest way. It is incredibly brave, and I, as a translator, wanted to honour it.

What strikes you about the way he writes about his desire for men?

His poetry complicates definitions of queerness through its sincerity, directness, and openness. May the Girls Forgive Rafael Salcedo is an excellent example of this, but it’s throughout his work in poems like Navel Moon, Almost Obscene, Serenade. I leave it up to readers to interpret.

Please tell us a bit about his Middle-Eastern heritage, and how that is reflected in his work.

There is a significant population of Middle Eastern descent in Colombia. Raúl’s family belongs to it. He recognises his heritage in his poetry (Eastern Abuela, for example), but he identifies more with the region he is from in Colombia, Cereté and the Sinú Valley.

If you could go back in time and meet him in person, what would you like to chat with him about?

I think the first thing I would want to do if I could meet Raúl is to hug him. Because of the intimate, often autobiographical nature of his poetry, I have the sensation that I know him a little already. More than talking to him, I would want to listen.

Which other queer poets would you like to translate into English? Why?

As a translator of poetry, my loyalties lie precisely with that: poetry. I am most interested in challenging a very limited canon of Latin American poetry in English translation by seeking out work that breaks with preconceived notions — mostly by US Americans — of what poetry from Latin America should be. All this is to say that I don’t necessarily seek out work to translate because of a determined identity expressed in the work.

Chintan Girish Modi is an independent writer, journalist and book reviewer.