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Nelio 07-12-2006 09:21 AM

Massacre in Mexico
This book is be Elena Poniatowska. It has a good as introduction by Ocativo Paz, really good.

This book deals with the Student Massacre that took place in Mexico City in 1968. I am into the first chapter and i find this a very interesting book. It seems as this book is told by not really the author perse but by statments she got from people. STatments about the movement that went on before the massacre. From both students, teachers, workers, mothers and fathers, some officials, Politcal Prisoners taken into custody during the whole movement who were inprisoned for protesting and marching.
But yeah, give you a sense of peoples thoughts and mind as things were going on. Like i said, they are statements, somethings 3 or 4 per page, sometimes 1 a page. ALot of the people statements were taken from appear more then once, but it is a good book, interesting way of telling the story.

"No, the real remedy is not to be found in a reform from the top downward, but rather from the bottom upward, a reform strongly backed by an independent popular movement."-Excerpt from the introduction of Massacre in Mexico page VXI

El Charro 07-12-2006 09:34 AM

Re: Massacre in Mexico
my girl talked to me about this, it how i learned about it. They also hold a special ceremony on the day of the massacre. interesting stuff.

tecpaocelotl 07-12-2006 09:43 AM

Re: Massacre in Mexico
A book with anything involving Octavio Paz is always good.

Nelio 08-13-2006 07:49 PM

Re: Massacre in Mexico
An excerpt from the book Massacre in Mexico of an eyewitness acount on the night of October 2, 1968.

The Night of Tlatelolco

We lost site of Reyes and I heard a shout from my brother: “Don’t let go of my hand.” We clutched each other’s hand and headed toward the right, trying to reach the park with the ruins. There were lots of people down there, trying to find cover from the terrible hail of bullets coming from all directions. We could hear shells exploding over all the other noises; the ruins were being shattered by the bullets, and bits of stoned started falling down on our heads. I was still clutching my brother’s hand, despite the fact that there were other people between us, and I tried to pull him closer to me. Some students were lying there on the ground between us, some of them dead and others wounded. There was a girl right next to me who had been hit square in the face with a dum-dum bullet. It was ghastly! The entire left side of her face had been blown away.
The shouts, the cries of pain, the weeping, the prayers and supplications, and the continuous deafening sound of gunfire made the Plaza de las Tres Culturas a scene straight out of Dante’s Inferno.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

I tugged at my brother’s arm. “Julio, what’s the matter?” I asked him. I tugged at his arm again; his eyes were half closed and there was a very sad look in them. And I heard him murmur the words “I think. . .”
My mind was a total blank. The tremendous crush of people screaming in panic made It hard for me to hear what he was saying. I thought later that if I’d known, if I’d realized that Julio was dying, I would have done something absolutely crazy right then and there.
Later some of the soldiers who had been shooting at the buildings around the Plaza came over to us. The smell of gunpowder was unbearable. Little by little people made room for me so I could kneel down beside Julio.
“Julio, Julio, answer me, little brother,” I said to him.
“He must be wounded,” one woman said to me. “Loosen his belt.”
When I loosened it, I could feel a great big wound. I found out later at the hospital that he had three bullet wounds: one in the stomach, one in the neck, and another in the leg. He was dying.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

“Hey, little brother, what’s the matter? Answer me, little brother. . .”
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

Little brother, speak to me. . . . Please, somebody get him a stretcher! I’m right here, Julio. . . . A stretcher! . . . Soldier, a stretcher for somebody who’s been wounded. . . . What’s the matter, little brother? . . . Answer me, little brother. . . . A stretcher! . . .
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

Now that I’d managed to get to Julio and we were together again, I could raise my head and look around. The very first thing I noticed was all the people lying on the ground; the entire Plaza was covered with the bodies of the living and the dead, all lying side by side. The second thing I noticed was that my kid brother had been riddled with bullets.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

“Soldier, please have somebody bring a stretcher!”
“Shut up and stop pestering me or you’ll be needing two of them!” was the only reply I got from this “heroic Johnny,” as our president calls the soldiers in the ranks.
Just then a med student hurried over and said to this “heroic Johnny,” “That biy there ought to be taken to the hospital right away!”
“Shut your trap, you son of a bitch,” the soldier answered.
Everyone standing around watching began shouting in chorus, “A stretcher, a stretcher, a stretcher!”
A couple of people made a makeshift stretcher out of some lengths of pipe and an overcoat. But the med student who helped us was arrested.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

“Please let me go with him-I’m his sister!” I begged.
They gave me permission to leave the Plaza with the stretcher-bearers. I climbed into the Army ambulance with my brother.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

Why Don’t you answer me, hermanito?
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

Before I climbed into the Army ambulance, a “student” whom I’d seen at UNAM came up to me and said, “You handbag, please. . . .”
“What do you want it for?” I asked.
The soldier who was with me was surprised too: “Who are you?” he asked him. But then he noticed the white handkerchief or something in the fake student’s hand and said to him, “Oh, you’re one of them, are you?”
The guy was an undercover agent posing as a student. I handed him my purse, and he searched through it and then gave it back to me. I have no idea to this day why he asked me for it.
They took my brother to the hospital then, and I waited there for hours to find out how the operation had gone. A male nurse kept coming in every so often, and one time he asked the women who were there waiting it out, just as I was, “Which one of you was with a boy in the blue suit?”
“He was with me. . . I came here with a boy in a blue suit,” I said.
They took me to identify Julio’s body and sign the necessary papers.
When we held the wake for Julio, I was deeply touched by his fellow students’ loyalty to him and their concern for us. All the boys from Vocational 1 came to the house the minute they heard the tragic news of his death. They had taken up a collection and offered us some five hundred pesos. My sister told them we didn’t really need the money, and would prefer they used it for the Movement. “No,” they said. “The way we see I your brother is the Movement. We’d like you to accept the money.”
Julio was fifteen years old, a student at Vocational 1, the school out by Tlatelolco housing unit. That was the second political meeting he’d ever gone to. He had asked me to go with him that day. The first meeting we went to together was the big Silent Demonstration. Julio was my only brother.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

My father died shortly after Julio was killed. He had a heart attack as a result of the shock of his death. Julio was his only son, his youngest child. He would often say, “Why did it have to be my son?” My mother has managed to go on living somehow.
Diana Salmeron de Contreras

FreedomNow 08-16-2006 10:25 AM

Re: Massacre in Mexico
hey... glad u picked that book up nelio... i think i mentioned it on the thread u were asking about books bout massacres....

it s a cool concept too... the interviews intermingled with dialagoue and pics...

LilDreams 02-13-2007 04:32 PM

Re: Massacre in Mexico
my amigo en Mexico told me about this.. how they were killed and churches closed doors.. on Oct,2 en mexico city they have a ceremony around el angel

tecpaocelotl 10-02-2015 01:16 PM

Re: Massacre in Mexico

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