Wow what a diversity of perspectives on Argentina and their military dictatorship of the late 70s and early 80s. I have typically only thought of the disappearances, the torture, and abuses of human rights. Sure I wondered at the complacency of most of the nation, and what options they had for civil disobedience that wouldn’t have affected their lives, but I had never really thought about the military, and the many young men that were forced into positions of abuse without really having much say otherwise. Speranza and Cittadini’s piece on the various voices of military men shed some light on what it may have been like in the military during this particular junta. One line from Gustavo Pedemonte’s testimony summed up the lack of insight, involvement, and intention on the part of most soldiers during the 1970-80s military rule. “What we didn’t have was leadership, information, trust.” Not that one can be washed of all blame for atrocious acts committed merely for lack of the above, but the feeling imparted regarding the military was that so many of its members had no idea what was coming and what would be required of them. It was about survival, and about having a job.
The military position was strongly contrasted for me with Perlongher’s poem about Corpses. Why did he sometimes capitalize the first letter, and other times not? The lines: “In the hem of the train of the silk gown of the bride, who
never gets married
because her fiancé has
……………………………………………………....!
There are Corpses”
struck me by their sheer physicality, and also by the image that they conjured in my mind. It is as though every element and moment of Argentine society is permeated by the corpses that no one sees, but knows exist just the same. The entire poem conjured so much through my five senses. Not only was I picturing things in my mind, but I almost felt like I was touching things and smelling things while reading the series’ of disjointed but related images. Perlongher’s use of verbs implied the sheer violation and physical rape of Argentina as seen or not seen in the corpses of the country. I wonder if it is possible to escape the Corpses? In the same way that Mercado talks of Argentines in exile and their inability to let go of their country despite what it forced upon them. Premising his comments with this, “Nothing could be more anodyne or stupid than to say: ‘the exiles had it good.’” Formed an interesting framework. I assumed that he began like that in order to make the reader question. I thought that the exiles probably did have it better than those locked up in Argentina. But he gave me a new understanding of exile, and of longing for one’s country. Our memories can be powerful.