"Puente De Cristal" and "Pasión Sin Nombre":
Sexual Desire Sublimated

"Puente de Cristal" ("Crystal Bridge") and "Pasión sin Nombre" ("Passion Without a Name") present two different views of the

persona's sublimation of sexual desire. They create an inner vitality in order to compensate for an essentially lonely and empty life. In "Puente de Cristal" the sexual act is consummated, whereas in "Pasión sin Nombre" it never takes place. The creative energy impelling these poems comes from the erotic codes and conventions of a Mexican lyrical tradition. In "Puente de Cristal" the natural cycle of a larva becoming a caterpillar and then a butterfly implicitly denotes the sexual growth and maturation of a woman; the night succumbing to the sieges of war is a metaphor for a woman surrendering herself to a male lover. In "Pasión sin Nombre" the image of the potro (a young horse) is a metaphor for the wild, unbridled passion of the lover.

In "Puente de Cristal" Corpi disguises a story about sexual liberation with a story about political liberation. Codes of social struggle intersect with codes of sexual struggle to create ambiguity. The struggle (la lucha ), however, is more sexual than political. "Pasión sin Nombre" contains less displacement of sexual desire because Corpi represents the object of desire as a man.

PUENTE DE CRISTAL

Caminábamos dóciles
en un puente de cristal
y la lucha nos encontró.

Se desgarró el capullo
y a punto cero calculado
el ojo sibílico apuntó.

Grito de lucha
en el campo
en la fábrica
en mi yo
en el tuyo
al extraño
al compañero

Sólo entre el silencio
preciso de dos puertas
pueden mantenerse
crisálidas eternas.

Caminábamos dolientes
en un puente de cristal
entre dos puertos.

Abrió sus piernas la noche
El arco ofendido cedió
y se fertilizó
la semilla guerrillera
entre el abrir y cerrar.

Giró el humo rojo
en la médula del viento
formando punto a punto
el fénix dialéctico.

Y yo por primera vez
dejé que mi palabra
apuntara hacia esenciales.

THE CRYSTAL BRIDGE

Obediently we walked
over a crystal bridge
and discord found us.

The bud tore loose
and the sybil's eye
aimed at zero.

Battle cry
in the fields
in the factory
in my self
in yours
to the stranger
to the friend

Only in the precise
silence of two doors
can the chrysalis
sleep forever.

Painfully we walked
over a crystal bridge
between two doors.

Night opened her legs
The wounded arch gave way
and the seed of war
quickened
between the opening and the shutting.

Red smoke whirled
in the medulla of the wind
forming, point by point,
the dialectic phoenix.

And for the first time
I allowed my word
to turn to essentials.

The first stanza of "Puente de Cristal" establishes the setting. The plural verb caminábamos suggests a group of two or more travelers, but it may also point to a speaker who travels in the community of her dreams and illusions. Since the bridge is "crystal," it represents a tenuous boundary that can break at any moment. At a metaphoric level it has two possible readings: in images of war, we may read a sexual struggle; in images of sex, we may read a political struggle. The word docíles ("soft") suggests travelers who are easily led, who are even unaware of their surroundings. The travelers are confronted by la lucha , taken as a reference to social struggle until the reader remembers that Lucha is the poet's name. The poet is playing with her name for the ambiguities it allows. If indeed we take la lucha to designate the poet, then the poem is a metaphoric description of an encounter with herself. The poet's strategy of punning on her name is also a convention of a popular lyrical tradition.^[19]

The second stanza shifts from descriptive language to a language that is more metaphoric and lyrical. It also shifts from an "I" that speaks of itself as subject (caminábamos ) to an "I" that speaks of itself as object, or the capullo . The reader's attention is deflected from the real subject of the discourse to something else. The shift from an "I" as subject to an "I" as object is a recurrent strategy employed by Corpi. The capullo , a metaphor for the bud of a flower or the cocoon of a butterfly, becomes the vehicle for describing the result of the encounter with la lucha . Essentially, a silky tissue or covering is torn. Our attention is directed to the natural process of the ripping of the cocoon in order to describe a woman's entrance into physical sexuality. These lines are prophetic of the events described in stanza 6. The sibylline eye points with a calculated aim to the target (punto cero ). The commotion and confusion of struggle are felt by everyone in the fields and factories. The line Grito de lucha again plays with the ambiguity of the poet's name: the cry of a community's struggle or

the cry of a woman who encounters her sexuality for the first time. The shift from en to al in stanza 3 suggests that the cry reaches the extraño ("stranger") and the compañero ("brother"). Since both are preceded by the preposition al , they would seem to be regarded as equal. In a political context it makes no sense to equate "stranger" or "enemy" with "brother" because they take different sides in the struggle. In a sexual context the male lover may be a stranger or an enemy if he is feared, or a compañero if he is loved. Depending on the context, the word compañero means either a comrade or a lover/husband. The context here suggests the latter.

Stanza 4 shifts back into the more contemplative mode of stanza 2. Now the poetic consciousness realizes that only in some utopian realm ("entre el silencio / preciso de dos puertas" ["the precise / silence of two doors"]) can "chrysalis," or a condition of purity, exist. Stanza 5 reflects a change in consciousness because now the travelers are dolientes instead of dóciles . They experience the pain that awareness brings. The bridge they travel connects two ports or places of safety; it is the position between, emphasizing the peril of the journey.

The next stanza describes the consummation of the sexual act through images of war. The stanza also has a political connotation: the arch under attack (ofendido ) surrenders to the enemy and under cover of night the seeds of guerrilla warfare or of revolution are sown. The erotic images suggest that the sexual struggle is more intensive than the political one.^[20] The night serves as a metaphor for the woman surrendering to her lover. The arco ("arch") is traced by the position of the woman's legs which open to receive the sperm. The arch, a metonymy for the woman's sexual organ, is ofendido in the sense of "offended" or "hurt." There is another disguise in that arco as a masculine noun requires a masculine adjective: ofendido instead of ofendida .^[21] The verb cedió , the preterit of ceder , is more appropriate in a context of a town under siege which ultimately surrenders. The sound of cedió , however, suggests se dió ("to give oneself"), from the reflexive darse , a more suitable verb when a woman gives herself to a man. Sexual codes are couched in political terms. The semilla guerrillera in a sexual context is the poet's impulse (fertilizó ) to rebel and seek her sexual liberation.

The result of the sexual act in the following stanza is the "Red smoke," or the passion. Now realized, it forms the phoenix.

The phrase "en la médula del viento" ("in the medulla of the wind") points to the core of the passion: médula suggests "core," and "wind" in Corpi's poetry is the epitome of passion or love. The process of death and rebirth evoked by the image of the phoenix reinforces the transformation that has taken place within the poet. The dead embers of her passion have been stirred and transformed into passionate love.

In the final stanza the speaker inserts herself directly into the poetic discourse for the first time. After the sexual experience comes catharsis, and the poet—"por primera vez" ("for the first time")—can speak about essentials. The use of the preterit dejé ("allowed") and of the subjective apuntara ("that my word may point") places the statement at the level of desire rather than of fact. The poet sees herself in an imaginative space speaking directly without disguises. The implication is that the poetic consciousness knows that, until sexual desire is gratified, her words cannot describe things for what they are.

A comparison of "Puente de Cristal" and "Pasión sin Nombre" suggests that the poet can describe the consummation of the sexual act according to romantic conventions when it is presented in figurative terms, but not when it involves the woman's physical body. Although "Pasión sin Nombre" is certainly not free of some disguises Corpi uses to describe the sexual act between a man and a woman, it leaves no doubt that the gratification of sexual desire lies at the center of the poet's quest. The title of "Pasión sin Nombre" is ambiguous, pointing either to a passion so intense that it is impossible to name or to a passion that comes to no fruition (sin Nombre ). A close reading confirms that the poem allows for both possibilities.

PASIÓN SIN NOMBRE

Desdoblé el miedo
y observé al potro
desbocado de tu amor.

Quería que su crin
brillara entre
luciérnagas ocultas;

que tus manos
se cerraran en mi cuerpo
y desataran el nudo
ciego del viento dormido.

Mas no llegó el potro
con su crin brilante,
ni el roce de tu mano,
ni tú, antiguo amante.

Y mi cuerpo se quedó
muy quieto, centrado
en el blanco vestal
del viento huracanado.

PASSION WITHOUT A NAME

I unfolded my fear
and watched
the unbridled horse of your love.

I wanted his mane
to shine with
hidden fireflies;

Your hands to close around my body,
untie the blind knot
of the sleeping storm.

Yet the horse did not arrive
with its shining mane
nor the touch of your hand,
nor you, my love.

And my body became
very quiet, centered
in the vestal robe
of the hurricane.

This poem divides into two parts, with the first three stanzas expressing the speaker's ardent desire and the last two confirming its nonfulfillment. The speaker unfolds (desdoblé ) her fear and dares to see (observé ) the lover's passion. The speaker is a passive participant in the passion; she does not say sentí ("I felt") or me dí ("I gave myself"), for example. Again the focus on the eyes: she observes from a distance. The male lover's wild passion is personified by the potro , a young male horse before its first mating. The second stanza continues to direct the reader's attention to the potro , the object spoken about, rather than to the tú , the person addressed. It concentrates on one aspect of the young horse—su crin ("its mane"). This stanza reveals the woman's

socialization established in "Tres Mujeres," where all the woman's goals and motivations are projected to the male. As Amerina told Juana María, "Siempre has vivido por o para alguien más. Nunca para ti misma" (p. 83). ("You have always lived through or for someone else. Never for yourself.") The speaker in "Pasión sin Nombre" wants the male to shine in glory, to outshine even the luciérnagas ocultas ("hidden fireflies").

The third stanza continues to elaborate on this theme, but now the focus veers from the third person su to the second person tú . The lines "que tus manos / se cerraran en mi cuerpo" marks Corpi's closest approach to expressing an undisguised sexual desire, as her persona now talks directly to the lover, telling him she desires his hands to close within her body (en mi cuerpo ), an especially strong image. The word en in this instance means dentro ("inside"). The poet does not say "around my body" (alrededor de mi cuerpo ), as the English translation has it.^[22] The phrase en mi cuerpo obviously suggests "within" or "inside" the body. The next two lines, though advancing the speaker's desire, begin to hint that its realization is impossible. The viento dormido ("sleeping wind") is the latent passion, or "nudo / ciego" ("blind knot"). By saying "el nudo / ciego del viento dormido," Corpi affirms the presence of a "knot" so tight and blind that it is impossible to undo.

Stanza 4 marks the unbridgeable gap between the speaker's desire and its consummation. Corpi's speaker carefully negates each item that functions as an object of desire. Nothing has materialized: the potro did not come; nor did its manifestation (crin ), the lover's manifestation (el roce de tu mano ), or the lover himself (ni tú, antiguo amante ). The addressee is an antiguo amante ("ancient lover") simply because he has been desired for so long. The result is that the speaker's body is left totally immobile, silent, and still. With different words, the poet conveys immobility three times: quedó ("was left"); muy quieto ("very still"); centrado ("centered," "fixed").

The final two lines express the sublimated desire. The word vestal suggests the vestal virgins of classical mythology who vowed to remain chaste and guard the fire of the hearth. The poet, like the vestal virgins, sees herself dedicated to the service of a higher ideal, or, as she puts it, the viento huracanado . The classical virgins guarded a hearth fire; the speaker as vestal virgin guards a hurricane. The hurricane is an energy image highlighting

the intensity of her passion. The irony is that, whereas the vestal virgins chose to remain pure in order to fulfill their vow to the goddess Vesta, the speaker seems to have no choice.

The word blanco , used as an adjective, means "white," hence purity, but as it is preceded by the masculine article el it may also connote the "target" or the "center" of the service. The speaker's passion has been transformed from a viento dormido to a viento huracanado . In the midst of the very passion itself she cannot obtain it. The connotations of "vestal"—fire, hearth, and altar—suggest the sanctity of the home to which the woman may dedicate herself. The poet's writing is also a sublimation of sexual desire because in it she acts out her service to passion, the subject of her poetry.

The focus of "Pasión sin Nombre" is on the speaker's disappointment over the lover's failure to arrive. She is simply left at the altar of a violent wind to soothe and care for her devouring passion.