My Other Life
“I had already made myself unpopular at the festival by refusing to sign "An Open Letter to the Government of Kenya." The Kenayans had put a poet into prison. A fiercely freckled Welsh woman in a long hooded shawl that gave her the look of a gloomy druidess introduced herself as Bronwyn Thomas and thrust a clipboard and pen at me.
"Agostinho Neto was an Angolan poet," I said. "The Portuguese government put him into prison. He was one of the first prisoners of conscience that Amnesty Internationa...l adopted, and their pressure got him out of prison. Some years later, after Agostinho Neto became prime minister of Angola, he began throwing his political enemies into jail, and Amnesty had to plead with him to let them out." I smiled at her, because she looked murderous. "That's one reason I'm not signing." "You're being totally illogical," Bronwyn Thomas said.
"No. It's proof that poets can become tyrants, too," I said. "You know, Chairman Mao managed to be a dedicated poet and an imaginative tyrant." "You're saying, 'Do nothing.'" '"Tear him for his bad verses.' Ring a bell?MoreLess
"Agostinho Neto was an Angolan poet," I said. "The Portuguese government put him into prison. He was one of the first prisoners of conscience that Amnesty Internationa...l adopted, and their pressure got him out of prison. Some years later, after Agostinho Neto became prime minister of Angola, he began throwing his political enemies into jail, and Amnesty had to plead with him to let them out." I smiled at her, because she looked murderous. "That's one reason I'm not signing." "You're being totally illogical," Bronwyn Thomas said.
"No. It's proof that poets can become tyrants, too," I said. "You know, Chairman Mao managed to be a dedicated poet and an imaginative tyrant." "You're saying, 'Do nothing.'" '"Tear him for his bad verses.' Ring a bell?MoreLess
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