Cryptic Weaving
by Hugo Méndez-Ramírez

From antiquity, and especially since the romantic movements in Europe and Latin America, poets have dealt with the elusiveness of language, questioning its effectiveness to represent the reality of human existence. Few poets have maintained their faith in the power of language to create or transform reality. One of these is the Mexican poet Octavio Paz. Another is Chilean poet Cecilia Vicuña. But while Paz’s poetic convictions are rooted in profound knowledge of Oriental philosophy, Vicuña’s trust in the power of language is the result of ongoing inquiry into the intricate complexities of Andean languages and their poetic tradition.

Although her work has received little critical attention, Vicuña is one of the most protean and talented Latin American artists today. Borrowing themes and techniques form both Western and Amerindian models, Vicuña creates her own singular, artistic universe, a collage of old and new forms. In this postmodern era, her work is a unique synthesis of the artistic traditions of Europe, Latin America, and the ancient noncanonical heritage of Andean poetry. Although certain fundamental themes permeate her entire work, each one of her books concentrates on a vision or a specific reflection on her poetic task, which allows us, then, to coherently trace Vicuña’s artistic trajectory.

Precario, the second important book, is centered around the mysterious inner power of (in)significant objects, and their connection with nature and human life. The "performance events," as she calls them, included in the book, are collages made of natural rubbish, strings, and refuse, and are clearly linked to that variety of dadaism invented by Kurt Schwitters called Merz.

Strings or scraps of cloth contain hidden messages and powerful secrets. They may become bridges between the present and the past, or artifacts for recovering lost memory:

the poncho
is a book
a woven
message

(written in English, Unravelling 13)

Art is therefore the act of connecting or uniting that which apparently has no relationship.

PALABRARmás, published in Argentina in 1984, goes a step further in exploring the privileged relationship of the poet with language and the process of poetic creation. In the anthologized edition, a line from the Chilean poet Vicente Huidobro serves as an epigraph: "Open your mouth and receive the host of the wounded word" (Unravelling 25). In the book, Vicuña establishes, on the one hand, most convincingly the autonomy of language, and, on the other, the romantic vision of the poet as someone who has access to the truth

One of the most important aspects of this book, and indeed all of her work, is the process of the dissecting of language into semantic units, in an attempt to give back to every word its archaic meaning, its power as an instrument for acquiring wisdom and knowledge. PALABRARmas, the title of the book, is formed of pala (shovel) and abra (open, used as a command), palabra (word), of labrar (to work), armar (to arm or to assemble) and other words.

The poems of the collections are a collage of verses, aphorisms, direct quotes of philosophers, poets, critics, translators, and linguists, taken from books as diverse as the bible, the Popol Vuh, the Rig Veda, as wall as from etymological dictionaries—in fact, Vicuña’s principal source here is Joan Corominas’ Etymological Dictionary.

La Wik’uña, the most recent of her major works, is also the most mature and most cryptic of the three. As in the previous book, the introductory epigraph taken from Lezama Lima is revealing: "La luz es el primer animal visible de lo invisible" (Light is the first visible animal of the invisible). In effect the poetic vision of this book shares the metaphysical conception of the Cuban writer’s poetry, according to which the poetic text should produce epiphanies, revelations, or in Vicuña’s terminology, advinanzas (divinations). Here the poems are like ritual acts, powerful mantras that cast a spell over nature or human life in order in influence the unfolding of future events.

Watuq, el chamán es "el que amarra",
de watuy, amarrar.
Watunasimi, el lenguaje tejido crea el
Mundo en oráculos, parábolas y advinanzas.

(Wik’uña 85)

(Watuq, the shaman is "he who ties,"
from watuy, to tie.
Watunasimi, the woven language creates the
world in oracles, parables and divinations.)

(Unravelling 102)

Vicuña’s poetry, especially here, like that of the Inca is designed for collective use and and is written to be sung in the open air, in nature. This is similar to the Andean tradition of singing described by Regina Harrison, a noted anthropologist, a specialist in Andean culture, and an important source for Vicuña.

Another aspect that distinguishes this book from earlier works is its structure. The lines, and strophes are shorter, in the style of Japanese haiku, or emulating Andean rhythmic song patters. Regular rhyme and a certain formal symmetry appear for the first time, as does new emphasis on capturing and reproducing the speech of Andean women singers.

Vicuña great confidence in the power of language leads her to place the wisdom and knowledge of the ancient past in a dialogic confrontation with contemporary politics and the apocalyptic fate of Western civilization, in hope that the former will save the latter. "Sooner or later," she says, "we will reach the consciousness of word-working, the shared knowledge that until now injustice and exploitation have impeded" (Unravelling 60). In precisely this constant juxtaposition of apparently disparate elements, Vicuña is one of the very few who have been able to find a harmonious balance between ancient and contemporary forms, between European and American origins, between the schemes of indigenous languages and modern poetic inquiries.

For the full text of the "Cryptic Weaving" see: The Precarious/quipoem: The Art and Poetry of Cecilia Vicuña, edited by M. Catherine de Zegher, University Press of New England, 1997.