I? ••
Strawberry and Chocolate
flavoured cuban culture
BY REYNALDO GONZÁLEZ
A recent cuban film, Strawberry and Chocolate, directed by Tomás Gutiérrez Alea and Juan Carlos Tavío, took all the
leading prizes at the XVth Festival of New Latin American Cinema, held in La Habana, Cuba, and has become an
unmatched sucess story in the island, also winning the Berlin Festival's Silver Bear along with other awards. The writer
and essayist Reynaldo González maintains that the film is more fhan just a happy ennumeration of unpleasant situations,
that he has suffered also, and that it is part of a project of renewal that cuban culture must necessarily undergo, in order to
understand better what intolerance elevated to political culture meant. This essay cuts into the essence of the hardest years
that cuban artists experienced during the euphemistically termed "grey quinquennium", that was really a very long
nightmare, a wound still open because burocratic acknowledgements and incentives can't simply heal it.
1. ASUBJECTFORAN
EXCEPTIONAL FILMMAKER.
Many believe God is oii iheir side,
others beg him to let them be at
his side... Island saying.
Tomás Gutiérrez Alea is one of the
cuban cinema directors that has
International standing. Yet not because
he has pandered to popular tastes or to
distributors' demands, but due to his
ability for narrating significant stories.
T. Gutiérrez Alea and Che Guevara.
Historias de la Revolución.
His work was part of a movement that
cama to be callad New latin Amarican
cinema, and it was new indaed because
its directors refused to continué
churning out fatalistic formulas and trita
ranchar cinema tliames, or stories of
seamstresses battered by the wavas of
virtua and vice.
Ha told US about tha bourgeois man
perturbed by tha impact of revolution in
Memorias del subdesairollo, a
representation of the upper and middla
classes that wera facing the emargent
social phenomanom that would bring
them toppling down, and of tha
aristocrat slavar of the ninetaenth
cantury in La última cena, (Tha Last
Supper), prona to raligious santimants
that maka him turn a group of serfs into
"apostles of Christ" during ona evaning
only to bahaad them naxt morning. Ha
CÍNKOAÍlANTKrODt *ftt MOOfíMO
narrated the regressive decadent process
of the cuban national middle class in
Los Sobrevivientes, (The Survivors), and
the ironic puteóme that the imposition of
an ideal during the sixteenth century
brought about when it tumed
destructive, in Una pelea cubana contra
los demonios, (A cuban fight against
demons).
Films like Las doce sillas, (The twelve
chairs) or La muerte de un burócrata,
(Death of a Burocrat), are indebted to
the picaresque tradition, that a castüian
analyst called "hungry cunning", a
popular subversive tool. With this
material and his tendency to populist
inflexions, his work has revealed artistic
mastery, keeping to the tradition of the
cinema d'auteur, that poses demanding
questions to an audience and doesn't
merely drug them up. Gutiérrez Alea
stands out in cuban cinematography,
that is vocationally distanced from
commercial trends, as one of the most
talented directors in the field of
contemporary reality, including the not
very satisfactory result of Hasta cierto
punto, that dealt with considerable
emphasis on a theme, that of cuban
machismo, which Pastor Vega treated
much more efficiently in his film Retrato
de Teresa.
If something characterizes the work of
Gutiérrez Alea it is the fact that very
clearly defined arguments enable him to
expand his thoughts on history and to
suggest different contents. He is one of
the great masters of cuban cinema,
together with Humberto Solas in fiction,
and Santiago Álvarez in documentary.
He has often come up with polemics
because he has lived Ufe intensely. His
resources, those of contemporary
uitellectual discourse, (distance and
proximity required for the
rationalization of emotion), allow him to
move with dexterity in themes and
problems that stemmed from a socialism
conditioned by the blockade and
economic dependency, improvisation
and schemes that the cuban process
wasn't able to avoid despite the
autonomy of its origin, its leadership
and the impetuous health and resilience
of national culture.
One could expect from Gutiérrez Alea
that he would get involved in any matter
deemed "problematic" without
succumbing to triumphalist propaganda
or giving Ln to irrational scepticism, two
of the most serious dangers that prey on
artistic cuban creation. He has
succeeded in doing so with his film
Strawberry and Chocolate that has
scored highs in ticket sales and has
become debating fodder for intellectuals.
Its mighty success has meant that a
subject never before treated with such
stark sincerity has reached homes,
offices and places of public meeting.
It benefitted from the coUeiboration of
another sardonic and analytic producer,
Juan Carlos Tavío, [La Permuta and
Plaff), who worked on a script by Senel
Paz. They started with a critical work
and remained faithful to its literary
condition, El lobo, el bosque y el hombre
nuevo, (The Wolf, the Forest and the
New Man), written by the script writer
himself. Alea, Tavío and Paz dared to
tread slippery ground, to satisfy certain
long standing demands of cuban
contemporary culture: the
marginalization of homosexuals, the
instrumentaUzation of prejudice during a
recent period, yet beyond that, a deeper
seated intolerance, derived from
ideahzed notions on the behaviour of
individuáis in society.
Strawberry and Chocolate tells of the
difficult friendship between David, a
young communist, sexist and prejudiced,
and Diego, a non-closet homosexual, a
"mad girl" as cuban argot says. Parallel
stories with their respective contexts
reveal double standards, political
dogmatism and the reciurence to the
blackmarket as a means of survival in
the diré conditions of the blockade and
an economy that isn't able to solve in
any way the problems of home-market
consumption.
Things get complex because the subject
is not isolated, and it precipitates a
social convulsión that is set on revisLng
everything. The anecdotal background
and the narrative angles had to reflect
the various thoms of a problematic
situation where oppressors and
oppressed were locked in a struggle
between tradition and the need for
reform, where assent was given by
inherited concepts and the pressing
obligation to subvert them. This leads us
to an ethical problem that has been
shaped by forcé of history, with many
sedaacks, but upholding to a reforming
will that nobody in their sane mind can
doubt.
It is true in general that almost all the
work of cuban film-makers can be
grouped inte this kind of ethic reflection
exemplified through anecdotes. Some
recent films emphasize debate, mainly
those already mentioned by Alea and
Vega, Un hombre de éxito by Humberto
Solas, Papeles secundarios by Orlando
Rojas, the tales of Mujer transparente,
especially "Laura" by Ana Rodríguez,
Adorables Mentiras by Gerardo Chijona,
and the controversial Alicia en el Pueblo
de Maravillas by Daniel Díaz Torres, to
which cuban creativity owes much,
despite its problematic reception;
another chapter of an ongoing series that
threatens the futiu^e of the cinema
screen: excessive intolerance.
If it is true that the concern for an ethics
that is progressively defined as it runs
into difficulties, (the same ones that
beset our society), could determine our
cinema's character, it is equally evident
that of the arts it has been the one that
has approached reality in Cuba with the
greatest freedom and lack of constraint,
even when "random gales" devastated
the cultural arena with tremendous
forcé.
Its premier showings in La Habana
broke all audience expectations well
before it went into the provincial circuit,
and that is considering that in Cuba the
cinema has been a great public concern.
"If we can interpret the evidence
correctly", said a north american
cubanologist visiting the island, "then
the mile long queues symbolize the
success of the plot and the approach,
they constitute a criticism of incalculable
effect because it tums into a majority
concern a problem that had never before
been treated so directly. In this sense the
film acts as revulsión for discriminatory
concepts upheld over a long period of
time."
The very existence of the film already
proves that things have began to change
with respect to the gay minority in
Cuba, yet that "the authorities didn't
make such a keen effort to try and
eradicate anti-homosexual feelings as
they did when it carne to bettering the
consideration due to the blacks and to
women, for example."
Tomás Gutiérrez Alea had once again
touched an issue that stirred deep held
popular anxiety. The challenge was also
far-reaching, in a context where
homophonic prejudices are the result of
an understanding that the majority has
of sexual affairs as a whole. For future
tmalysts wishing to explore certain
presumíibly implicit themes of cuban
culture, this topic will require more
detailed judgement, from an
interdisciplinary basis, in order to
determine exactly what our idiosincracy
is, including the áreas of popular beliefs
and its myths, not as radical as was
esteemed initially, until we have seen
how many of these homophobic criteria
have been injected and overdimensioned,
when not clearly instrumentalized
during different periods of our history.
The other implications of the plot and
what Alea proposed to express through
it, as he tends to do, lent it an
unimagined transcendence. Fresa y
Chocolate was destined to be much more
than an exceptional film. For the
moment I prefer to analyse the context
of this anecdote and what the 70's
meant for the cuban cultural life that
saw the birth of the friendship between
the young undergraduate conununist
and the homosexual emerged from the
closet. And it isn't a whimsical
insistence, for in the film is debated with
understandable emphasis the fate of the
art work that challenges established
guidelines and the personality that loves
its own national culture as opposed to
canons that were imposed as ideal and
exclusive for the construction of a nwe
kind of society.
II. GREY QUINQUENNIUM OR LONG
TERM NIGHTMARE?
"The problem is that that isn't
literature. There's nothing there. Just
clichés. They only forgot to put
mujik instead of "guajiro" (Diego).
Allhoiigli tlie miifh decimated cuban
jjress has oiilv devoted proniotional
notes lo tlip film, wilhoul going on lo
analyse tlie significances of ils content,
lilis fací is already significan! for those
accustonied lo reading between the Unes.
Such propagandistic praise would iiave
been inipossiiíle a few" vears ago, as
indcefi ihc existence of tiie film itself.
The postm'e of ihe cuban governnient,
llial doesn t usiiallv participale or
esTaljJish debates on such inatters, is
obsiously one of atonement for past
errovs thal nianv cui)an and foreign
crilics have reminded theni of. and
wiiich onlv served lo increase dislances
on behalf of personahties thal had
pi'e\ iouslv offered snpport.
h is evidenl thal wiliiiu llie cuban
stnicl tires of fihn prodiiction and
(Hslrii)uli()n. wilhoul express
govenunenla! a|)pro\al llie inaking of a
fihn such as Fresa y (Jhocolale wouldn t
llave been possible, for it is not contení
jusl to lell a stoi'v biit goes on to judge
behaxiour. Two lliings are therefore
clear. It exists because it gained
governinent approval and il ineans thal
somelhing is changing in Cuba, despile
lile inimobihsni ihal its adversarles
coulinue to denoiince and that niaiiy of
the organizers would like to take refuge
in. íeai'lul as thev are of ihe lioiror racui
thal inevitable reh)nn will bring.
At the last Habana Festival, directed by
the cuban Pastor Vega, the saine man
wlio a decade ago inade an iinpassioned
and firin defense of woinen against
machismo, [Re/rali) de Teresa. Porli'ail
of Teresa), bis film \ idas Paralelas.
(Parallcl Lives) Irealed the subjecl of ihe
hardshi])s homosexuals sufl'ered due lo
intoierance. One of his characters was a
gav man who emigrated to llie L'S
hoping to live more coinlortabK'. and
who didn'l find happiness. The paradox
of a non-closel lile awailed him. bul al
the expense of assmning the ini|)lications
of Ufe in a so|jhi.sticated ghetto. In
another successful cuban fihn. La Bella
del Allianthra. bv lMir¡(]ue Pineda
Barnet, a lioinosi;xual earned the
aiidience's .sympathv. He was a pathelic
stereolype of the Iriuniphant vedette,
wilh imcondilional devoliou lo lus
whore-mi.stresses.
Yet the occasions have been rare when
members of the gav niinoritv have b(>en
svmpalheticallv porlraved, bevond ihe
standard caricature that pandered to
machoisl criteria iii vogiie. Fresa and
Chocolale Iranscends conlextual
reference and becomes an accusative test
of intoierance in its broadest serise. It
.strikes home lo an exceptional degree,
and given its intelligent nelwork of
related thenies. it offers ¡deas that go
much beyoiid the suffering of a
mai'giiuilized commuiiiU .
Il is cjuile astonishing thal iii a countrv
whei-e machismo aiid anli-hoinosexual
prejuilices were inleusified i-alhci- iban
relaxed bv faclors ihal foreign observers
llave persistentiv emphasized, nianv
heterosexual speclators end up
¡denlifying wilh the gav cliaracter and
are moved when ihe vonng cominunisl
and the gav inad-girl embrace in a íinale
ihal stirs all. This slorv is lold by a
cuban film, aller ihe hardshi].) of real
experieuce, withoul ignoring the fact
ToTiiás (íiiliérroz .Mea. Slniírbcrn- iiiid Clioroliih'.
that homophobic prejudice and the steps
taken to repress hoinosexuality serioiisly
damaged our cultural lile and created a
climate oí mistrust and insecui'ity.
The issue reached boiling point during
the 70's, when inany actors and theatre
directors were dismissed íroni their post
and when a type of pogrom was imposed
on all of those who maintained
relationships with a public, with
children or with students. This
marginality sought justiíicalion in the
moral dictates approved by a Congress
of Educalion that eventtially became of
Education and Culture, (beginnings of
1971), and has gone down in intellectual
memory as a bitter reality. This purge
attacked university lecture rooms, the
printing world, public offices related to
culture and education; political
strategies eventtially tainted everything
to the point that motivations and causal
reasons became confused as this
movement gained a signil'icance that had
drastic effects for ctiltural lile as a
whole.
Cuban theatre, for instance, that had for
other latin american countries enviable
standards of quality and owed its
renaissance to government sponsorship,
still hasn't recovered from the effects of
that policy, despite the efforts and the
energy of the present cultural
administration. A similar purge was
suffered by renown authors whose
iiterary expression would never again be
the same even though atonement was
officially made for the policies enforced
against them.
Some cases gained notoriev, like the one
of Cuba's greatest lyrical poet, José
Ijczarna Lima, who paid with ostracism
the international lame of his novel
Paradiso, where referenccs to
homosexuality are manifold: from being
President of the Writer s L.nion he
suddenly became a "non-member ". His
seveinieth anniversary was marked by
the publieation of several of his works,
bitt tlien followed deep silence, although
he had the respect of those wlio
recognized his career and knew he was a
great insular poet; yet they coidtl do
nothing to avoid a predeslined late.
The most significant ctiban playwirght
of the twentieth century, Virgilio Pinera,
had to endure a period of iiostility and
silence akin to Lezania s, unlil his deatli.
His works were ptit in the drawer of
inapprojiiate literatiire; his lile was
extremelv disrupted. Now we have his
sad unpublished texts and his prívate
correspondence, that Iiterary scholars
discuss, in seminars and conferences
that hinge on liis work.
Beliind these grand ñames, other writers
were forced lo ado|:)t silence. Thev make
np a long list, in a country where art
and creativity seem to find ]jrivileged
circiuiistance. Thev took on anonvmous
jol:)s in librairies and printing firms.
Some suffered in (he (|iialil\ of llicir
work, embittered and analhematized.
Others took the path of exile. It was the
tijne when the official cultural
directorate tried to inipose the models of
"socialist realism " that came from
Eastern Eiirope, witli exident contempt
for rlch. local culture.
Tomás (áiliérrez Alea. Slrfíiríx'rry (iiid ('liocolnU'.
Cuban writers had a westem tradition
syinbolized by their greatest ñames:
Lezama Lima, Virgilio Pinera, Alejo
Carpentier or Nicolás Guillen, the latter
an author of elegies and songs that were
fuUy communist, yet completely sepárate
from the rigid schemes of "real
socialism". Painters continued to admire
their masters: Wifredo Lam, Rene
Portocarrero, Amelia Peláez and many
ñames that kept up a modemity related
to the avant-garde traditions, including
a local and very free adaptation of
abstract expressionism that became
exemplary, an art that Raúl Martínez
excelled in, and who, for a long spell
after, once he had got rid of the
contempt surrounding him, became the
iconographer of the revolution.
Writers and poets looked to their own
roots for inspiration in order to shrug off
such impositions and excepting a few
opportunists and hangers on, they joined
together against the aggressors. Intuition
and wisdom helped them on, though in
the institutions that governed and
valued culture dogmatic rules prevailed,
propelled by arrivism, in an eminently
centralized society. Prestige, and also the
chance of publishing and distributing
their work, could only come from this
sphere, but for them, as for Kafka's
mythical character, the door was closed.
Although they loved the revolutionary
process and had swom loyalty to it, they
were attacked by those in authority.
With many regrets they accepted an
involuntary inner exile, which was a
dramatic thing that nobody saw as a
farse.
The moment of the "revolutionary
mouth clamp" and of the avid emerging
"talents" who were given posts at the
head of institutions had come. It wasn't
a question of those who were promoted
in the civil service foUowing an order of
merit and seniority, but of cunning
fishermen in troubled waters. They
began to practice literature, theatre,
music or the fine arts, to fulfil
professions that they understood to be
strictly disciplinarian, and rising to the
challenge, they took advantage of their
"hour and moment" to impose lucid
"creations", lacking in depth and effect,
yet very attuned to official trends. The
empire of Socialist Realism didn't lack
its creóle Tsars and Tsarinas built to
domestic specification, generating a
court that enroUed sycophants and
buffoons, all of them passionate converts
to a truth imported from the East, hke
dawn itself.
Cuban cultural publications, where
before the work of native authors ruled
unchallenged, were flooded by
translations that flattered eastem
Europe. The Union of Cuban writers
and artists invented a "cuban school of
translation of socialist works", that
appeared in exemplary monographic
issues, and which only tumed out to be
an infamous parodie anthology.
We had to witness a pathetic crusade
against "wimpness", which meant
weakness of character, "foreigness", if
one imitated the corrupt West, because
even the world map had to be read the
other way round and Cuba ceased to be
westem as was God's will, and new
extrapolated paths raised the contigent
to ultímate reality. Never before was art
so much theorized about, and never did
true art receive such little promotion at
home.
III ABSENCE MEANETH NOT
OBLIVION
Today we recall all this as a transíent
nightmare, yet too recent to be
forgotten. Nobody can pretend that the
impact and the after effects of that
period be ignored. Cuban culttiral policy
has now tried to rescue those writers
who having created significant works,
were prevented from publishing them.
Those that perished are remembered
and commemorated with the bitter taste
of regret at the incomprehension that
beset their final days. Those that stayed
in the country and who endured, are
now saved from oblivion, published and
awarded distinctions of merit. They
possess as inherent and underlying
worth a more than triad fidelity and a
persistence in national cultiu'al valúes.
The most dramatic case of suicide and
exile was that of the prose writer
Reinaldo Arenas. His final works
become a lacerating criticism and
testimony, product of a delirious
imagination, where an understandable
paranoia blurrs the limits of reality and
fantasy. Calvert Casey, an author who
opted for exile and also committed
suicide, has recently been the subject of
an extensive apology in the same
niagazine Unión where he pubUshed his
last text in Cuba, the ironically entitled
tale: Adiós y gracias por todo,
("Goodbye and thank you for
everything").
It is evident that all of this is a sign of
change, and that currently we are Uving
a time of revisión and necessary healing,
of which Fresa y Chocolate is an integral
part. In the past few years there has
been the intention of regarding with
certain benevolence the work of some
exiled writers, previously reduced to the
status of "non-persons", or to those
controversial authors who stayed on.
Curious things crop up, not always easy
to explain.
The poet and author Severo Sarduy who
died recently in París has received his
post mortem consecration. However, the
play-wright who after Pinera is
considered Cuba's greatest, José Triana,
though he receives his quota of praise
when the island's dramatic repertoire is
mentioned, hasn't seen his plays
performed, not even his fundíimental
work, La noche de los asesinos, (The
night of the assassins) that for many is
the most genuine parable of the need for
drastic change in order to begin a new
life, to initiate once again the upheaval
of revolution. Then, a writer who in
exile degenerated from great innovator
of cuban narrative to a propagandist of
dead-end revenge, Lino Novas Calvo,
had his works beautifuUy and carefuUy
published, a right one can't deny him,
yet that strikes us as astonishing when
other exiled cuban writers of undeniable
worth are still in coventry.
A very significant event occurred, along
these lines, at La Habana university, an
instítution that during the black period
exercised with particular obsequiousness
discrimination against those authors who
deviated from the "recommendations" of
dogmatism, suspending them from its
syllabuses and comering them into
negative categories. The critic José
Prats Sariol presided a very fuU
conference room to whose audience he
went on to praise one of Cuba's greatest
living poets, Gastón Baquero. The
difference lies in the fact that Baquero
Uves in Madrid since the begirmings of
the 60's and doesn't stop attacking the
cuban revolution in the Spanish and
North American press. It was a
question of praising a notable disident,
not obviating reference to his
disidence, yet valuing his literary
excellencies.
Sometimes we are caught up in
zigzagging motion that is disconcerting.
Demands can't be too inflated in this
process of rectification, and especially
when refering to those absent. To
mention a notorious case, the dramatist
Antón Arrufat, resident in Cuba and
who in 1968 had problems because one
of his plays was considered irreverent by
the censors. Los siete contra Tebas, (The
seven against Thebes), hasn't seen anv
play of his perfomed on stage for over
twenty years, although his books are
published and he is consistently praised.
This can be interpreted as the failings of
a process where the variations of criteria
depend on the whim of burocrats, or are
the result of different, inexplicable
contingencies, or perhaps, are the
outcome of improvised non-discussed
initiatives.
The State has included in the list of the
honourable those that it repressed
erstwhile, always with great caution and
after much deliberation. Nevertheless,
beyond this debate that is oriented to
analysing and bringing to a cióse all that
the black period entailed, praise and
ceremonies of recognition are not
sufficient to make good the damage
inflicted. It is proof that the cultural
body can be damaged by decree,
although it can't be healed by the same
method.
In debates and in the specialized press,
that due to the circumstances of crisis
has only limited edition and erratic
distribution, reference is made to what
benevolent critics cali the "grey
quinquennium" and that in effect was a
very long decade. They lócate its high
point between 1970 and 1976, the year
the present Ministry for Culture was
l'üinás Gutiérrez Alea. Slrawhí^rn- <ut(l ( liocoídlc.
I'ouiided. Otiiers consiilcr that tlie mere
existeiice of that institution aiid tlie
measiires adopted (o rectify the situatioii
inherited, didti t mean., as woiild be
desirable, a deí'iiiite cliaiige fof the
better iii the adversities that the
protagoiiists of cuban cuhure suffered,
btit the beginiiiiig of a tTaiisformatioii
that hi ciihural teniis will be appi-eciable
with time.
The story of Fresa y Chocolate is set iii
that "grey" period. Its critical arrows
transcend the characters strife, striking
the hcart of inimetisin, that was a nevv-generation
"foreignness", undcr
sacralized pohtical atlittides, and come
out iii defense of cuban culture, as
represented by the homosexual
character. Soma moineiits of critical
finesse represent tliis theme, as when the
young coimnunist suffers the sovietizing
"intoxication" instilled bv excessive
propagandistic exaltation, that prompts
the homosexual's quick ¡ronic siuib,
steeped as he is in national culture.
As a cuban film director moved h\ the
work of bis coUeagues told me, "it is
diflicult that in so little time somebody
is able lo express better and more fully
the things that have worried iis so
much". Another film maker who had to
piit up with the incleinencies of dogmas
hostile to creation and circumstances
that turned one of bis films into a
battleground aben to art, said, "that it is
wortb having lived through these years
to see a cuban film that realizes this act
of justice".
What could be considered as the gay
community in Cuba, that does not have
representative organizations as in other
parts of the world, has received the film
with joy for it represents vindication.
Nonetheless, they admit that the issue
wUl require greater coUective effort,
against the deep set prejudices of
fundamental machismo. It is evident
that both are not only refering to the
film's story, but to a revisión process
long overdue.
This feeling has characterised the
reception of the film. Some see
themselves portrayed on the screen.
Others recognize the problem of cióse
friends. They are thankful that without
spinning yet another pohtical yam the
film makers were able to find the way of
treating such subjects within the story
une. This in no way could be achieved
by "orientations" of the cultural
administration, and far less so, by the
press in its present circumstances. Art
has broken the ice, from literature to
song, and it is understandable that the
cuban cinema should do it emphatically,
where extremist and populist tendencies
were vehemently stopped.
An example of how the problems that
Fresa y Chocolate describes and
considers have motivated cuban
creators, that now are overeóme by the
film and join the queues to see what is
already considered as a breakthrough in
our cinema's history is Pablo Milanes's
song, dated september 1993 and
included in a recent LP:
ORIGINAL SIN
for Lázaro Gómez
Two souls
Two bodies
Two men in love
Are going to be expelled from the
paradise
They were to live.
Neither of them is a hunter
Who garlanded their victories with
young boys.
Neither of them have the riches
To calm the wrath of their judges.
Neither of them is president.
Neither of them is a minister.
Neither of them is a censor
of their mutilated desire.
And they feel that every moming
They can see their tree,
their park,
their sun,
like you and I
That they can tear apart their flesh
In Love's sweet intimacy
Like I always desperately penétrate
your womb with my flesh
desparately your womb
with love.
We aren't God.
let's not get it wrong again.
The film Fresa y Chocolate comes, with
its arrows aimed at all kinds of
intolerance, at a moment when the
coUective awareness of the cubans has
matured and rejects elements that the
establishment tried to inocúlate it with,
yet that didn't germinate. The analyst of
all this, whose public presentation is
anxiously awaited, will have to search
for the symptoms that indícate a healthy
change among the publications and the
cultured events of the contemporary
panorama. There isn't a single
specialized review or any cuban cultural
event that doesn't proclaim that long
awaited rectification, and it is a shared
concern that its continuity is maintained
and that it wiU shape other future
rectifications. Avoiding overt
propagandistic messages, the Cuban
Union of Writers and Artists, an
institution that wasn't able to reject
perverse tendencies and contributed to
the deterioration of cuban culture that
was deprived of famous ñames, has
started in its reviews a campaign to
redress the uptipped beJance of the
cultural world.
The ticket sales' success story of Fresa y
Chocolate is the coUective seal of
approval that the majority in Cuba
provides, a majority that is more
enlightened than many and that has
developed a political sense of awareness
and not only the will to consume. Yet
whoever sees a simple gay event in
Diego's and David's embrace is a myopic
observer, or whoever feels content with
this acknowledgement isn't able to see
the woods for the trees. We welcome the
present moment of crisis if it promotes a
revisión of those valúes that
predomínate in cuban life and an
undeniable reaffimation of national
identity. This choice includes all
flavours, which means all options and all
interpretations.