Subcomandante Marcos

In this gorgeous collection of allegorical stories, Subcomandante Marcos, idiosyncratic spokesperson of the Zapatistas, has provided “an accidental archive” of a revolutionary group’s struggle against neo-liberalism. For 30 years, the Zapatistas have influenced and inspired movements worldwide, showing that another world is possible. They have infused Left politics with a distinct imaginary—and an imaginative, literary or poetic dimension—organizing horizontally, outside and against the state, and with a profound respect for difference as a source of political insight, not division. Marcos’s inspiring and sometimes Kafkaesque stories bear witness to how a defense of indigenous traditions can become a lever for the construction of a new anti-capitalist and anti-patriarchal world. With commentaries that illuminate their historical, political, and literary contexts and an introduction by the translators, this timeless elegiac volume is perfect for lovers of literature and lovers of revolution.

Zapatista Stories for Dreaming An Other World

Macy HB

Who can boast of humanity when even among leftists there is nonchalance towards mass death?

This is the end of our fable and the end of this missive. I remind you that divisions between countries serve only to define the crime of contraband and to justify wars.

Indeed there exist at least two things that transcend borders: one is the crime disguised as modernity that distributes misery on a global scale; the other is the hope that shame will exist only when someone misses a dance step, and not every time we look ourselves in the mirror. To bring an end to the crime and make hope bloom, we need only to struggle and to become better. The rest falls into place on its own and is what fills libraries and museums. 

Conquering the whole world isn't necessary; it is enough to make it anew... Cheers, and know that for love, a bed is only a pretext; for dancing, a tune is only embellishment; and for struggle, nationality is merely an accident of circumstance.

The forest was left silent and alone. It rained, and then stopped raining. The Moon came out, and the Milky Way once again unwound its twisted body. Suddenly, a beam of moonlight managed to slip through the great branches and leaves of the tree at the center and, with its dim light, was able to read the colorful sign that was left there. It said: "To the first ones: we who came after did understand. Salud."

His imbalance and the powerful agency of the women become, for a moment, a symbol of an old order about to topple. For the duration of that shutter speed at least, we can imagine that "another world is possible."

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