A Poet in Cuba

Reinaldo Arenas

In September 1958, I tried to join Fidel Castro’s guerrillas. I was fourteen, the ‘love child’ of a family of poor peasants. But I was not really all that different from those around me: I knew what poverty meant, what real hunger was like, and I had experienced injustice and corruption at fir…

Failed Saxophonist
The Business of Mourning