The History of Violets
The History of Violets
$15.00
Out of stock
About the Book
Originally published in 1965, The History of Violets (Historial de las violetas) twists the familiar face of a family farm, populating the fields and grounds with gods, monsters, and a whole “foamy army” of extras. Di Giorgio—whom Kent Johnson hails as “one of the most spectacular and strange Latin American poets of the past fifty years”—locks the natural and supernatural in a perilous dance, balancing humor and violence, beauty and danger, simple childhood memory and complex domestic drama. With disarming grace, these poems leave the reader swirling about, among the flowers, where no one is safe.
Author
Marosa di Giorgio
Born in Salto, Uruguay, and raised on her family’s farm, Marosa di Giorgio (1932-2004) is one of the most prominent Uruguayan poets of the twentieth century. Di Giorgio began writing in her childhood and published her first book of poems at the age of twenty-two. She then went on to publish a total of fourteen books of poetry, three collections of short stories, and one novel. While some critics have categorized her as a surrealist, she herself denied membership in any literary movement or school. Although she was relatively unknown outside the Southern Cone during her lifetime, she is now becoming more and more widely read throughout Latin America and Europe.
Translator
Jeannine Marie Pitas
Jeannine Marie Pitas is a writer, teacher, and Spanish-English literary translator currently living in Dubuque, Iowa, where she teaches at the University of Dubuque. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks and the translator of several Uruguayan poets. She has published translations of acclaimed Uruguayan writer Marosa di Giorgio’s work, The History of Violets (UDP) and I Remember Nightfall (UDP), and her own first full-length poetry collection, Things Seen and Unseen, is forthcoming from Quattro Books.
Praise
In the News
Links
Other UDP titles from Marosa Di Giorgio here
Di Giorgio reading “The mushrooms are born in silence …”
Di Giorgio reading “The daisies embraced the whole garden …”
Excerpt
I remember nightfall and your room’s open door, through which the neighbors and the angels came in. And the clouds—November evening clouds, drifting in circles over the land. The trees filled with droplets of water, burdened with jasmines and doves. That joyous pealing, endless chirping—every evening the same.
And then the next morning, with its dead angels littered over the ground like paper birds, or the most exquisite of eggshells.
Your dazzling death.