Domination in the Age of Emancipation: A Review of Goodbye, My Havana: The Life and Times of a Gringa in Revolutionary Cuba
Homosexuality’s confrontation with the revolutionary Cuban government has been the subject of numerous articles, books, and research. While the story of Goodbye, My Havana: The Life and Times of a Gringa in Revolutionary Cuba feels simple, there is more to it than meets the eye. Anna Veltfort gives us a very detailed, precise, and well-organized account of the history of homosexuality, art, and intellectuals alongside the Cuban revolution. In her autobiographical memoir, Veltfort narrates the story of 16-year-old Cornelia, who after escaping from Germany to the United States, travels to Cuba in 1962 with her German mother, Lenore, American stepfather, Ted, and two stepsiblings, Nikki and Kevin. To become more American, she changes her German name to Connie in California. She is interested in social justice, civil rights, and art. After finishing high school, she starts studying art history at la Universidad de Havana. By then, the reader knows that Connie is homosexual and living a life full of threat, fear, and judgment. Veltfort’s graphic novel not only tells the story of a German gringa in Cuba, but also depicts the history of the Cuban Revolution in vivid images. On many occasions, official news, propaganda posters, and images constitute the backdrop of Veltfort’s drawings. This, along with the author’s careful study of history, makes Veltfort’s story extremely credible. In Cuba, Connie learns about UMAP camps (Unidades Militares de Ayuda a la Producción), the Beatles in Cuba, El Puente literary group, ICAP (Instituto Cubano de Amistad con los Pueblos), and much more. |
Connie becomes integrated into her new lifestyle in Cuba and voluntarily works in camps. The third chapter, “The Sierra Maestra,” is mostly painted with bright colors, reflecting the life of the protagonist as a young revolutionary. However, after being accused of homosexuality, Connie and her friend Martugenia go through a lot: they are put on public trial and their lives are in jeopardy. Veltfort shows excellent artistry in the use of colors throughout this process. All the images in which the two young women are attacked and ultimately accused by two strangers on the Malecón in 1967 are depicted in red. When Connie is questioned by Carlos Amat, the prosecutor and judge of the university trial, she becomes red, too, burning in fear, shame, and panic. By the same token, “The Night of Three Ps” is in blue-grey, with red images of the so-called “pervert people” beaten by the revolutionary guard. The infamous disappearance of Gustavo Ventoso and the UMAP camps are portrayed in red. The Cuban Revolution’s obsession with homosexuality is coded in a bloody red color that shows the response to nonnormative gender identities and sexual orientations there. The graphic novel ends in two black pages with a single word: “fin.” In my view, this color represents the disillusionment of the protagonist, who is forced to leave her beloved Havana, her girlfriend, and her dreams of becoming a film editor.
Goodbye, My Havana portrays love on multiple levels: the natural love between humans, the eternal love of humans for art, and the patriotic love shaped by the revolutionary state. The latter is the only acceptable form of love and endangers the former types. The first and the most important love of all citizens is the revolution. All people following Che Guevara should be ready to die and sacrifice for their lover: revolution. Veltfort shows the human cost of this unilateral, obligatory love: Connie and many others are exiled in desperate loss and disillusionment. Freedom and emancipation were repeatedly emphasized in Castro’s and Che Guevara’s words as the greatest achievements of the revolution. While emancipation means creating space for all, the space of Havana seeks to homogenize everyone: gay people, heterosexuals, intellectuals, and artists. The reader can feel the melancholy of Connie’s voice as she says goodbye to her Havana for the last time—a Havana that is becoming emptier and gloomier than ever.
Goodbye, My Havana portrays love on multiple levels: the natural love between humans, the eternal love of humans for art, and the patriotic love shaped by the revolutionary state. The latter is the only acceptable form of love and endangers the former types. The first and the most important love of all citizens is the revolution. All people following Che Guevara should be ready to die and sacrifice for their lover: revolution. Veltfort shows the human cost of this unilateral, obligatory love: Connie and many others are exiled in desperate loss and disillusionment. Freedom and emancipation were repeatedly emphasized in Castro’s and Che Guevara’s words as the greatest achievements of the revolution. While emancipation means creating space for all, the space of Havana seeks to homogenize everyone: gay people, heterosexuals, intellectuals, and artists. The reader can feel the melancholy of Connie’s voice as she says goodbye to her Havana for the last time—a Havana that is becoming emptier and gloomier than ever.
Anna Veltfort was born in Germany in 1945. In 1952 she emigrated to the U.S. with her mother, who then married an American, a communist veteran of the Abraham Lincoln International Brigade in the Spanish Civil War. At the end of 1972, she returned to the U.S. and settled in New York City, where she still resides.
Goodbye, My Havana, The Life and Times of a Gringa in Revolutionary Cuba is a publication by Redwood Press / Stanford University Press and can be purchased online. Click here to purchase.
Goodbye, My Havana, The Life and Times of a Gringa in Revolutionary Cuba is a publication by Redwood Press / Stanford University Press and can be purchased online. Click here to purchase.
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