Love: Called Eros the God, is so attracted unavoidably to Death.
Thanatos: A huge black hole of nothingness like the most warm embrace ...
It is never the person we give the privilege of causing disturbance on our hearts the real culprit, it is us.. we know this by now after the likes of Freud or Lacan, it's our transference, our projections.
On the blank screens of appearances we see things, symbols, signs, and we eventually find lost parts of ourselves, of our forgotten past and dreams.
And this is exactly what happened to her when she meet him, and after the meeting.. that trail he left.. that scent that for some reason seemed to take her, to guide her in to the deep nights of secret meetings for briefings about the real exact Revolution, as it was so much needed at those times.
So please, don't even think that due to some extra powers this man had, whom she did loved once, that she then decided to put her self on a list to go and jump in to death, to disappear.
As it was irrelevant where he was now, because it was what happened then, the essence of that times and the subdued influence he exerted over her unwillingly.
This is what was mysterious, thrilling, and fascinating about the fate of agent E2162
How was her to be involved on all of this could have not ever been explained if he will not had crossed her path at a very special moment of her short life. As simple as this may sound, him or he: Appeared out of the bluest blue, as that unexpected being influencing her throughout his embraces and his deep bright black Mapuche eyes.
It was about those unfair deaths, far away during his childhood that he carried as a shadow.
An immense shadow overpowering all and anyone who had a heart: His mother and her sisters and their husbands and his grand father too, had been sequestered, tortured and ultimately dispatched. Being getting rid off. This systematic slow cleanse of leftist intellectuals of Rojos was an enduring praxis.
Very easy for the system and the military police all knitted and perfected every year. With all the Nazi intelligence residing in their new lands, a re-colonised or borrowed República Argentina.
All these persecutions and tortures just for being considered subversive on a time and a place where this disappearances could just happen overnight, quietly.
The national secret police will came and will take you. And as this on a snap, they will make you go.
They did not enjoyed such long times together, most of it was(as she pointed out after his proposal)like love in war times, love in a short time, a timing and a context, and then a long distance, a long spacetime of nothingness passing by.
As she had also said then, like loving before we are about to die.
She agreed, even knowing she would regret it both ways: if rejecting it, the whole emptiness up on her for ever: Unbearable, impossible and desolate. And if agreeing as she did, having almost for sure(will she had not already knew ??) having to live with that passion, that memories, that burning desire for "that", which had gone for never ever come back here or to her again.
So all this happens on his absence, on how this shape-up on a reconstructed figure. And how all this could transform in to politics and then later in to a total militancy ?
Love as blood? as violence for justice, as deep will to finish up all that should not be there anymore.
Still a mystery as the one of that so called saint trinity. A sort of transubstantiation maybe? From love to hate.
She was more aware now, she had been for a while, but this feeling of loneliness mixed up together, make her inner senses open wide and feel the pain of unfairness to heights she could not have ever fathom. And her being, awaken and alert for things, intense feelings and issues that before seemed pointless or just impossible to reach.
One of them been revolution here and now...Revolution or revolt(she used to think till then)is not possible any more.
We are too much under control, we love too much our little easy narcissistic lives and superfluous comforts and even if I know (she said so many times)we are just bloody happy slaves, there is not much we can do about it, no?
But she developed this un-comfort, this aggressive feeling, this sickness to what she witnessed, slowly more and more as the every day life of squizo extreme poles of everywhere around her.
And one day, as if this was just also coming on her way, next to how unexpected and ephemeral had been her meeting with that man she knew she will not forget for at least a long long while if ever, this other man appeared (a man who was almost as a negative version of her by then so long ago tasted unknown hero, a man so feminine, hermetic like an sphinx and excitingly dangerous) and this was by then how she got recruited and how she did give her self to all this risk and commitment and ultimately to her own death.
Her own death as an exchange for her believes and also(she did not know this )as the part of the deal she silently made when she gave her self to that man who carried the shadow of a monstrous crime perpetrated by the nation where his grandfather grew-up, married and had its three beautiful hopeful daughters, who then married and had hopeful lives and believes, had babies of one, two years old.Given to other military couples to be raised by the perpetrators families while their world was sunk in the mud and thrown on to the Ocean.
Like her own Argentinian ancestors, they both knew how long it taken crossing the Atlantic, emigrated back or forwards from Buenos Aires to Barcelona.
II
Marlene was a man, and he had an immense ambitious agenda:
Revolution against the Fascist once more again.
Can you believe it?
She was baptised agent E2162 and her mission was of a double direction as herself was a mix of quite small little "petit burguesa", of Cuban creole's workers in to the industrial navy and Argentinian immigrants with an orphan grandfather who could have been a Moor or Berber(a Morisco from the forced converts of Spain)as many in that ghostly poor inlands came from.
E2162 had Bipolar loves and hates: deep down or not so, as an intense despise of high society and its cruel vacuousness.A deep sadness over the leftovers, her own lumpen bohemianism for all the queer and unadapted bodies and minds, the fringes and the un-rested. As she knew deep down all her ancestry had a series of points of coincidence:Converting to another faith by force of circumstance, hiding, negated, persecuted, fear and panic, loss, poverty, humiliation, trauma, illness.
So she did started and she did got drip by drip, day by day, more involved and more hard headed. Her heart still bleeding between the steel that she needed in order to work it all trough. And drip by drip, even if all we do anyway is going to the same place, her death was getting closer and closer like a mathematic diagram she had traced a kiss after a kiss that one night, at that one humid harbour with that man she had promised to die for, after their ritual made and sealed.
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