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From the author of Death and the Maiden, this fascinating memoir offers an elegant meditation on language, exile, and memory.
In this remarkable memoir, Dorfman describes an extraordinary life, torn between the United States, South America, and his Jewish heritage, between English and Spanish, between revolution and repression. Interwoven with the story of how Dorfman switched languages and countries--not once, but three times--is a day-to-day account of his multiple escapes from death during Pinochet's military takeover of Chile in 1973. Combining eight vignettes of his life before 1973 with eight scenes from the coup, Dorfman filters these events through an engaging, hybrid consciousness. A beautifully written and deeply moving auto-biography by one of the "greatest living Latin American writers" (Newsweek), Heading South, Looking North is at once a vivid account of a life as complex and mysterious as the fictional characters Dorfman has created, and an enthralling search for a permanent home, a political cause, and a cultural identity.
"A fascinating memoir ... intensely personal and often moving."-- The New York Times Book Review.
"Dorfman has written the most universal of stories, a meditation on the fragility and uncertainty of life." --The Boston Globe
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By I. Forney (Wolfenbuttel, Germany)
This is the worst book that i have ever tried to read. That is right i couldn't even finish this thing. If you are not being forced by a university to buy this then save your money and buy yourself some booze.
By xenia (NY)
Ariel Dorfman's Death and the Maiden helped me learn some new Spanish words, soak in Chile, Chilito, pisco sour... it also helped me imagine with more concreteness the hell that foreign policy and the Pinochet dictatorship unleashed upon Chilean men and women. I learned pieces of the dialogues by heart and wondered about the implications of human frailty and resistance in general. Alas, I took the work to be an expression of criticism toward the weak-willed husband who was content with a foul compromise, with the so-called "dialogue". This memoir as well as Dorfman's pieces in Counterpunch opened my eyes, however. Dorfman has never advanced past the boy who forsook Spanish for English, the boy so awed by glories of Holywood that he'd rather be a whimsical, charming Ariel than a weird Vladimiro. It is hilarious that he is being criticized for Communist sympathies here, when he is a liberal in the nineteenth c. sense of the term who would fight and die for nothing but his piece of the northamerican pie. I wish I had never read any of his work, and I cannot forgive him his cowardice, his duplicity, his heading AND looking north. I'll stick to Galeano instead.
By Erika Mitchell (E. Calais, VT USA)
This book is the internal memoirs of a man whose defining moments were exile from his homelands and his languages. Exile was a longstanding way of life in Dorfman's family, from his grandparents who had to leave Eastern Europe, to his parents who had to flee both Argentina and the US, and now Dorfman himself, who was forced into asylum after the fall of Allende in Chile. But exile is more of a secondary or co-theme of this book. The other major theme is Dorfman's search for identity through his languages. Throughout the book, Dorfman describes how he came to know language, and the identity traits that go along with a language. He also describes how he came to choose which of his two languages, English and Spanish, to use in different contexts and to consciously construct different identities.
Rather than tell his story chronologically, Dorfman works from a repertoire of pivotal moments. He has asked himself, when and why did I first start using English? When did I begin to write? When did I embrace the philosophy of non-violence? He then describes these episodes in detail, and speculates and philosophizes on them. The story of Dorfman's political activities in Chile and what happened to him during the coup constitute about half of the book, with these political chapters alternating with chapters about the other significant events in his life. The bouncing back-and-forth between time periods moves almost smoothly, like the thought patterns of an insomniac reflecting back at the end of a busy day.
I found many aspects of this book quite interesting. The first-person account of bilingualism, and its ties to a conflicted identity were described very clearly. The inside perspective on the Allende regime and its fall was also informative. What was particularly telling was the speculation on why the regime lost popularity amongst the Chilean people- -how Dorfman himself shamed people who were celebrating the Allende victory with a right-wing singer who was trying to mend fences, and told them the singer was not welcome in the revolution, or how he didn't reach out to a neighbor whose job was jeopardized and then lost because he wasn't an Allendista. Another aspect of this story that I found intriguing was Dorfman's identity as a gringo English speaker brought to Chile against his will as a young teenager, who came to adopt the country and become active in its politics. I couldn't help but think of another young man, Michael Townley, who was also brought by his American family to Santiago in his teenage years, and also learned the language, married a local girl, and wanted to call Chile his permanent home. But Townley was on the other side of the revolution, and became a right-wing terrorist working for the Chilean intelligence forces. Did Dorfman ever encounter Townley? Of course, Dorfman wasn't actually American- -he was an Argentinean who spent a significant portion of his childhood in the US, but he looked and spoke the part. How many other young Americans adopted Chile during this period? What was their combined influence on Chilean politics?
By Harriet Cannon (Seattle, WA, USA)
While Mr. Dorfman's experience of crossing cultures and language during a high profile time in Chilian and American history is poinent, it is not unique or objective. His self absorbtion is irritating. His self rightousness criticism covers unresolved suvivor's guilt which would be better resolved in the analysts chair. It is unfortunate Mr. Dorfman presents such idealised view of the Salvador Allende. I have lived and worked in Chile and am well aquainted with many people,peers of Mr. Dorfman, who also have parents who immigrated from Europe or Russia. Allende caused terrible harm to the Chilian economy in his repartiation of middle class businesses and land amoung other things. Middle class housewives demonstrated in the streets begging the military to oust him. No one approved of the repressive regime, the fear and the disappearances of the early Pinochet years, but in the last years Pinochet opened the Chilian markets to the world. Pinochet was voted out and democracy in with the addition of "primary" elections so that no one will be elected with 33% of the vote as was Allende. There were no monsters in Chile, no saints,but there is complex history, culture and politics. It is a shame Mr Dorfman with his high visability couldn't have addressed that.
By Stephen O. Murray (San Francisco, CA USA)
Both as a memorial to the democracy that was delayed for a generation in Chile (and to his friends who were casualties in the Pinochet terror) and as an account of how a major writer became the bilingual hybrid he is by rejecting first one and then the other of his linguistic selves, this is a fascinating book. . Battered from continent to continent by political events of the twentieth century, Dorfman's survival (as he knows well) depended on considerable luck and on his father's connections. Although he has accepted that his vocation is to tell stories, especially the stories of repression in Chile, there is no doubt that he harbors a considerable amount of survivor guilt.
Contrary to the misrepresentation of earlier reviewers, Dorfman does mention Borges (three times, all with respect), criticizes Castro as well as Pinochet (though Chile is a place to which he gave his heart and soul), and is not just aware, but explicit that it is ironic "I should have become a spokesperson for the poor in Latin America because I had spent so many years in the rich North" and of the recurrent ironies that the connections of his marxist father got them out of harm's way.
This is a very honest, un-narcissistic account of an interesting life of multiple exiles, observing failures of democracies, making clear the different selves that emerge in different languages. I would have liked more on the second American exile and assenting to bilingualism, and I regret that the hardback cover composition was replaced by the duller, less bicultural one on the paperback.
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