The poet Pablo Neruda was born in 1920 at the age of 16. It was in
October of that year, anyway, that a young man whose unsuspecting
parents had baptized him Ricardo Eliecer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto first
signed with the name Neruda the poems that he felt he existed in order
to write. Already, at 15, Neftalí (as his familiars addressed him until
he escaped to college in the big city) had described himself, in excited
drafts, not just as a poet but the poet, Mark Eisner points out in his new biography, Neruda: The Poet’s Calling.
A sonnet titled “The Poet Who is Neither Bourgeois nor Humble” alluded
to his potent, unknown poet-ness: “The men haven’t discovered that in
him exists / the poet who as a child was not childish.”
Neruda as an adolescent poet amounted almost to a parody of the type,
worryingly thin, melancholy and shy, and got up, unlike other local
boys, all in black. Sickly and frail, he was unsuited to the physical
labor done by most of his neighbors, and, a lazy pupil at school, he did
not suggest a country doctor or lawyer in the making. He appreciated
the splendors of the natural world and mooned over pretty girls but
otherwise showed little aptitude or interest for anything outside of books.
Among the men who didn’t recognize his promise was the poet’s own
father, a former dockworker with a hard demeanor. Following the death of
Neftalí’s mother mere weeks after the birth of her son, he’d installed
the family in the frontier town of Temuco, halfway down the racked spine
of Chile, where as the conductor of a “ballast train” he oversaw a crew
of laborers continuously pouring gravel over the railroad to keep the
tracks from being washed away by violent weather. ... [mehr] https://newrepublic.com/article/148907/poet-partisan-world-pablo-neruda
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