Ali Chumacero (1918-2010) was a Mexican writer, essayist, poet, and publisher. Although he had a remarkable talent for letters, he was best known for his performance as an editor and literary critic. He went down in history as a kind, honest and communicative man.
His work was characterized by the use of a well-elaborated and symbol-laden language. At first his writings were very personal, although he later evolved into themes of universal interest. One of Chumacero's main influences was the Mexican writer Xavier Villaurrutia.
The poetic publications that gave him recognition were: Wasteland of Dreams, Banished Images Y Words at rest. Alí Chumacero had extensive work as an essayist and critic and his texts were published in Mexican newspapers such as: The National, New land Y Mexico lettering.
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Ali Chumacero Lora was born on July 9, 1918 in Acaponeta, a municipality in the state of Nayarit. He came from a cultured and traditional family, his parents being Ali Chumacero and María Lora de Chumacero. He was the third child of the six the couple conceived. The poet lived a large part of his childhood and adolescence in Guadalajara.
Chumacero attended the first years of primary education in his hometown. Then the family moved to Guadalajara and there he completed primary, secondary and high school studies. When he was nineteen he went to the capital of the country to start a university career.
His desire to study literature was initially clouded by failing to pass some subjects in high school. So he dedicated himself to reading, writing and connecting with the cultural life of Mexico City. Later, he managed to start studies at the National Autonomous University of Mexico..
Alí Chumacero founded the magazine New land, in the company of some friends from the university. The publication dealt with literature and its innovations, as well as balancing the creativity of texts with established literary norms. The magazine circulated for two years.
At that time he devoted himself to writing reviews and essays for the print media in his country. Then in 1944 he had the opportunity to publish his first book of poetry entitled: Wasteland of dreams. In this work he dealt with themes related to time, the end of existence, loneliness and dreams.
Chumacero also had time for love. When he was thirty-one years old, he married a young woman named Lourdes, who became his friend and life partner since 1949. The couple conceived five children: Luís, Guillermo, María, Alfonso and Jorge.
Alí Chumacero's performance as a literary critic was based on the study and analysis of works by Mexican, European and Latin American writers. With these works, the author managed to break the barriers of the national culture of his country to give way to new modernist and avant-garde trends.
Chumacero spent the last few years focused on the development of his critical and editorial work. The good performance of his literary career made him worthy of several recognitions, among them, being a member of the Mexican Academy of the Language. He died on October 22, 2010 due to pneumonia.
- Member of the Mexican Academy of Language as of February 14, 1964.
- Xavier Villaurrutia Award in 1980.
- Alfonso Reyes International Award in 1986.
- National Prize for Linguistics and Literature in 1987.
- Amado Nervo State Prize for Literature in 1993.
- Belisario Domínguez Medal in 1996.
- Ramón López Velarde Ibero-American Poetry Award in 1999.
- Jaime Sabines-Gatien Laponite Poetry Award in 2003.
In his first poetic works, the literary style of Alí Chumacero was characterized by the use of an expressive language, well structured and loaded with symbols. Then he evidenced a shift towards the popular, as a more realistic and universal way of being. He wrote about time, dreams and loneliness.
- Wasteland of dreams (1944).
- Banished images (1948).
- Words at rest (1966).
- The critical moments: essays and reviews (1987).
“I think that the dream exists because I exist;
but if I cross faces against the world
and light winds lift flights,
tunics not to wear statues,
and with words that later disappear,
unexpectedly raped,
I evoke his gaze and his words: 'heaven', 'life'
that were like a walk in the dark,
as sad as me and as my soul,
like when the night falls apart
and it comes to my hands down,
I think I exist because the dream exists.
… I will also find new sorrows,
eyes that no longer look, empty corpses
and again the memory of his eyes ...
But I will never know my own dream,
the soul that pretends to defend me,
my empty heart, nor my shape ".
"Now that my hands
they can barely palpate ductilely,
as reaching the sea of the unknown,
this soft mystery that is born to me,
robe and air, warm agony,
on the deepest edge of the skin,
next to myself, inside,
there where the night does not grow,
where the voice cannot pronounce
the name of the mystery.
... And I begin to understand
how the mystery is one with my dream,
how it burns me in a desolate embrace,
incinerating voice and lips,
like a stone sunk in the waters
rolling uncontrollably in search of death,
and I feel that the dream is already navigating the mystery ".
"Between my hands you live
in confusion of birth and wounded heart,
how to fade or contemplate
a high mock of ruins ...
Born for my caress,
with a forgiveness that forgets and I begin
of ecstasy and aromas,
I get closer to your breath,
your ear with my lips I touch and say
that our love is agony ...
The more I withdraw my face from your eyes
because I can't think of a word anymore
let your name not live,
and why do you even emerge from silence
as an enemy who disdains the weapon
and suddenly it is born in the shadows ...
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