Neruda

Lamp(s) on Earth, such kindred exceptional souls who have chosen to illuminate, accompany, and guide me on this path: numero uno, Abram Brosseit, whose brotherhood, teaching, and unwavering belief in me have made me realize literature, writing, my dreams, this book, myself. Thomas Kohnstamm’s writing compañeroismo, his concern and consideration, have been so considerable. I first met Liza Baskind in 1994, the first week I stepped foot in Latin America. She became like a sister to me as the land, that experience, imprinted itself into us. Five years later, I visited her on my first-ever trip to San Francisco. On that very first morning, she led me to another important first step: into City Lights Books. Liza’s part in that connection makes my connection between those two worlds even more special—yet nothing near as special as that cherished friendship I share with her and her husband, Brian Steele. Lucho Vasquez, from passing Abram and me copies of Kenneth Patchen and other writers in our first year at Michigan, has continued to be a teacher, an inspiration, the most solid friend. I am also very appreciative of my brother Eric Eisner, of his exceptional intelligence and truly sweet nature.

To the Meta-Metcalves, with a particular nod to Aly’s ability to artfully put words to colors, words that help paint this book. As if their friendship and motivation, their examples of how to live a life and be a human, were not enough, it was Aly who introduced me to Jessica Powell. Witnessing her creative brilliance, I asked Jessica to translate Neruda’s book venture of the infinite man, a project I had brought to City Lights. The world is richer for her talent. She has also been a major help to this book, never flinching to lend her time to help with a passage or two, a page or two, or more. The growth of our friendship through this process has been the most rewarding outcome of it all.

I am thankful for those friends whose particular knowledge nourished this book: Soledad Chavez, linguistic professor at the University of Chile; Tina Escaja, dynamic Spanish poet, visual artist, and scholar; Rodrigo Rojas, professor and poet (whom I first met, by chance, at a reading at Neruda’s Santiago house, circa 2001).

Federico Willoughby Macdonald’s generosity and guidance opened Chile up to me. My gratitude to him is profound. He invited me to live on the ranch where the idea for The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems was born. Forrest Gander, Robert Hass, Jack Hirschman, Stephen Kessler, and Stephen Mitchell’s poetry, generosity, and belief in a very young me all enabled that book to take form. Alastair Reid, a contributor as well, was a special kindred angel on this path. These friendships have continued, their wisdom and support informing this book. With them aboard, Elaine Katzenberger at City Lights took on The Essential and published it. How my life has changed because she recognized something in it. And at holy City Lights, my continued appreciation for Stacey Lewis, Robert Sharrard, Chris Carosi, and, of course, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, who has been a hero of mine since college, since I first set out on this literary camino.

Those early days at the University of Michigan were formative in so many ways. I am deeply thankful for all Michigan gave me, but here in particular I can’t express warmly enough my appreciation for its creative writing undergraduate program. With their huge hearts and gifted prose, Eileen Pollack and Alyson Hagy both saw me for who I was, recognized the writing I had to do, and helped to launch me on this path. They’ve both been alongside ever since, which means so much to me and my writing. More recently, Jeremy Chamberlin, currently the associate director of the writing program, helped give me the tools to reimagine the narration at a time I felt the whole book was stuck.

At Stanford, I am grateful to Katherine Morrison, Jim Fox, Terry Karl, and the Center for Latin American Studies; Yvone Yarbo-Bejarano and the Department of Spanish and Portuguese; and Tobias Wolff and the Creative Writing Program for grants that enabled me to do some of the initial work toward what would eventually become this book. A special shout-out to Terry, my thesis adviser, for her teaching and understanding. Stanford’s Bing Overseas Studies Program funded a crucial 2002 trip to work out of its center in Santiago. In 2015, Iván Jaksić, the Santiago center’s current director, opened its doors to me again. And his warmhearted help on early twentieth-century Chilean thought proved invaluable.

It was on that 2002 trip that the Pablo Neruda Foundation welcomed me in, leading to some wonderful, important relationships. In particular for this biography, I had the opportunity to spend days in the library and archives, where Darío Oses, a saint, afforded me so many hours, helping me research the treasures of archival documents, answering my questions, and engaging in probing conversations, all the while looking out over La Chascona’s patio and the mountains beyond. In addition, much gratitude to Carmen Morales, executive director Fernando Sáez (whose excellent biography of Delia del Carril was very helpful to me), Adriana Valenzuela with the library, and the so cariñosa Carolina Briones, among many others. And for their dedicated and gracious help in granting the permission to use much of the original material used in this biography, gracias a Carina Pons, Ana Paz, and the late Carmen Balcells at the latter’s famed agency, who represented Neruda and now the foundation.

My first tentative interaction with the foundation was in 1999, through Verónica, the student I described meeting at La Chascona in the introduction to this book. She of course has my sincere thanks for being such a kind, brilliant catalyst. One of the first people she introduced me to was Federico Schopf, poet and professor at the Universidad de Chile. Federico’s initial encouragement was foundational, and the wisdom and knowledge he shared through long discussions over bottles of vino tinto served as the initial bedrock of what came