Javier Aranda Luna: Notes on not canonizing Monsi and inviting you to read him

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July 2, 1954, A group of artists and intellectuals gathered in Santo Domingo Square to protest the coup d'état in Guatemala that overthrew President Jacobo Árbenz, the first CIA-backed coup in Latin America.

Among the protesters was Frida Kahlo, who, despite having had her foot amputated, appeared in a wheelchair, accompanied by Diego Rivera. Her fist raised and her head covered by a scarf, her face reflected determination and pallor, just 11 days before her death.

In the crowd, a teenager with large, rimmed glasses watched her with a penetrating gaze. Three months later, on October 27, the same precocious, protestant, and presumptuous teenager was seen at a Bola de Nieve concert at the National Theater. He published both articles in the magazine El Estudiante, marking the beginning of the literary endeavor of the very young Carlos Monsiváis and establishing two of the central themes of his writing: the organization of civil society to transform its environment and spectacle, the joyful task of relaxation.

Throughout his life, Monsiváis remained faithful to these principles, avoiding being seduced by the iridescence of poetry and the social glitter of the novel, and always anchoring his gaze in reality.

Recently, while reviewing Monsiváis's archive at the Monsiteca, under the direction of Javier Castrejón, I found some scribbled responses on what appears to be a photocopy of a school survey but ends up becoming an exercise in Monsiváis's writing. Echoes of these responses can be found in some of his chronicles, or he took them from there. Below, I partially reproduce his answers, not only to recall his sharp sense of humor, but also because they are, in their own way, a self-portrait made in haste:

Name: Carlos Monsiváis. Profession: collector of commonplaces. Place and date of birth: May 4, 1938. Parents' names: Esther Monsiváis. Weight and height: robustness and mediocrity. Studies: various. Current duties or jobs: Survey Responder. The main trait of my character: hysterical serenity. My main flaw: indecision.

My main quality: my determination with which I accept my indecision.

What I like to spend my time doing: reading, watching movies, reading the newspaper, talking with my friends, watching time pass like a miniseries.

Sense of bliss: my life without the phone. What did you want to be as a child?: Full-time reader. What would you like to be now?: A senator of the Republic so you have all the free time. Why do you live in the city you live in?: by fate. The animal I admire most: the cat because it manages its time capriciously. My favorite prose writers: Borges, Isherwood, Cervantes, Dickens, Paz.

My favorite poetry writers: Whitman, Shakespeare, Eliot, Gorostiza, Villaurrutia, Sabines.

What am I currently reading and why?: Tinísima, by Elena Poniatowska. Because I already rate it as a great book.

My favorite fictional heroes: Sally Bowles, from Goodbye to Berlin; Pickwick, from The Pickwick Papers; Pedro Páramo.

My real-life heroes: Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Christopher Isherwood, Ricardo Flores Magón, Ignacio Ramírez.

My favorite musicians: Mozart, Bach, and whatever the evening dictates.

What name would I have liked to be given? A different one every day for every day of the year, so that it would somehow justify my identity problems.

What do I hate most in the world?: Cruelty to animals: hunting, bullfighting, dog fighting.

What natural gifts would I like to have?: those attributed to me.

Fifteen years ago, this writer passed away. He made me laugh and feel intelligence as something tangible. His Socratic dialogue, armed with questions, almost materialized the atmosphere. So, in remembering him, I wonder now what he observed in the anti-immigrant raids and the No Kings movement beyond the obvious; what in the Zionist positions of leftist academics; what was behind the capture of El Mayo Zambada; the Multiforo Alicia affair , threatened Trump-style; the 8 million viewers of public media boasted about since the morning press conference in contrast to the 3 from La Rosa de Guadalupe; the GPT Chat; the search engines; or the incorporation of the unpresentable people of yesteryear into the new political class that champions the transformation of the country via Morena's credentials.

Since Monsiváis is now merely his readers, it's in our best interest to cling to his aphorisms so as not to be swept away by the whirlwinds of these times. This one, for example: Either I no longer understand what's happening, or what I was understanding has already passed .