Marjorie Becker, a poet and a Latin American historian who focuses on Mexico, wrote the following eulogy for María Elena Martínez. Please see the obituary in the current issue of the Hispanic American Historical Review here and place your own remembrances of María Elena in the comments section below.
And Cry Again, and Shout as We . . .
say some women, and say some poor and say México
México and gringa in a mist of time and space,
and say we seized a liquid, say a languid chord
set the bold, oh bold, oh ripe, of now the fruit
still hanging, swinging, being night and vice
and care, and feet and legs on fire,
we took the room, the peopled chance,
and then and there an ecstasy, and later too the pain
that left, we took the partners, trained and strained
and pushed the night, its hours still ripe,
its cheer, its one-time need for cruelty;
we pushed the night to other shores
and pushed the days, the languid days
to newborn naked places somehow here
just seize, just seize it now, the smiles, the hints,
the utter tender other faces, prance with them this now again, and tend
again the inner whims and feel the world its thought
although you’re gone, my friend, your whirl, your glance,
your chance unfurls again, your dance . . .
In Memory of María Elena Martínez
Marjorie Becker, 11/22/14