The Rembrandt of Surrealism

While it is a signal honour that Paz has been acknowledged as one of Latin America's greatest writers, it is a travesty that his essays have not been embraced by social science and philosophy. The essays offer a sophisticated critique of global modernity and a refined line of reasoning that also fine-tunes contemporary thought in those two disciplines. This is, perhaps, a Himalayan gaffe, not just a mistake. As Oliver Kozlarek, the editor of Octavio Paz: Humanism and Critique (2010), explains and sums up this paradox, "Paz's work is intimidating (what) with its scope, in terms of topics and forms, being difficult for the conventional academic disciplines to deal with." He adds, "Literary scholars may be intrigued by the fact that Paz preferred essays over novels, while folks interested in his poetry (could) be irritated by his essays, which take up questions that are deemed the reserve of the social sciences, or philosophy."

A closet Marxist in his youthful years, Paz became a wise and sober persona only through experience. He denounced "the simplistic and simplifying ideologies of the Left" - a clear volte-face from his The Labyrinth… days. It was something that made him a sitting duck for critics. This wasn't all: Paz's views regarding the free-market economy drew flak from across Mexico's political spectrum, including the right wing, which castigated Paz for his hypocritical views. That he had a clear sympathy for the right wing complicated his image somewhat too - the difference being of degree, if not substance. All the same, such complexities did nothing to deter Paz from his pursuit of truth - a truth he thought was not only just, given changing global equations, but equitable too.

Paz was appointed curator of Privileges of Vision - a representative autobiography of his life and work - at Mexico City's Museum of Contemporary Art, in 1990. The exhibit reveals a definite connection between culture, time, and language - and of ideologies closely related to Paz's own perceptions. His poem, Sun Stone (1957), merges them in a simile: "With shadows I draw worlds/I scatter worlds with shadows/I hear the light beat on the other side."

If a poet can be said to translate the language of the universe, Paz's saga was the refined epitome of such translation. More than that, his poetry, exquisite and visual, was also a slick, fruitful union of culture and love: of the old with the new, or modern. Just maybe one could think that verse isn't a popular form at present. Not really. "Poetry," said Paz, "is an essential part of human life, the memory of a country, of language. Without poetry, people cannot talk well."

Paz, who slipped into eternal sleep on April 19, 1998, was beyond question a great admirer of technology and the Infobahn. He always felt it was folly to say the world was at the end of the arts, folly to contend that modern culture and communication could lead to bland, soporific artistic standards. He argued instead that, "We are at the end of some kind of art, that's all."

This sums up Paz, a visionary who thought that the 21st century was just not a monologue of reason, but a dialogue between human beings and cultures - all thanks to the new 'borderless' cultural ball that has been set rolling in the world of art, and its environs, today.

Touché! There won't be another like him again.