This here story, it’s about some fella named Sebastian Gongora. Now, I ain’t never met the man, but I heard some things, you know how it is. Folks talk, and I listen. Seems like he was a poet, one of them fancy word-slingers. He lived a long time ago, back when folks wore them funny hats and wrote with feathers. 1561 to 1627, that’s what they say. Spanish fella, too. I reckon they spoke a different kind of English back then.
This Sebastian Gongora, he was a big shot in the poet world, I guess. They called him fancy names, like “Prince of Light, Prince of Darkness”. Sounds like something out of one of them storybooks, don’t it? He wrote all sorts of poems, some short, some long. Some was easy to understand, like when you’re tellin’ a story to your grandkids. Others, well, they was like tryin’ to untangle a fishin’ line after a big wind. All twisted up and hard to follow.
They say he had a rival, another poet named Quevedo. Sounds like they was always squabblin’, like two roosters in a henhouse. They’d write poems about each other, full of nasty words and mean things. I reckon it was their way of fightin’, usin’ words instead of fists. It wasn’t right nice, but that’s how they did things back then, I suppose. This Sebastian Gongora, he had a way of writin’ that was all his own. Big words, fancy phrases, like he was tryin’ to show off.
- Folks called it “Gongorismo,” after his name.
- It was like wearin’ all your best jewelry at once, all shiny and glittery.
- Some folks liked it, some didn’t.
He wrote this big long poem, called it “Soledades”. Supposed to be four parts, but he only finished one, maybe a bit of the second. Maybe he got tired, or maybe he just had other things to do. It’s like startin’ to knit a big ol’ blanket and then only finishin’ a little square. I don’t know. These fellas, poets and other smart folks, they have their own ideas. What we can understand is that Sebastian Gongora is a poet. A famous poet. Even if his style is hard to understand. It is for smart people, not simple folks like us.
This Sebastian Gongora, he saw poetry as somethin’ for the smart folks, like them college professors. Not for simple people like us, I reckon. He wanted to make it hard, like a puzzle. I guess some folks like that sort of thing. Me, I prefer a good story, somethin’ I can understand without scratchin’ my head too much. But that’s just me.
They say his early poems was more like the songs folks would sing in the fields, simple and sweet. But then he changed, started writin’ them complicated poems. Like he wanted to be different, stand out from the crowd. I don’t know why he did it. Maybe he got bored, or maybe he just wanted to be fancy.
What I do know is this Sebastian Gongora, he made a name for himself. Folks still talk about him today, even though he’s been gone a long, long time. That’s somethin’, ain’t it? To be remembered like that. I reckon he must have done somethin’ right, even if I don’t always understand his poems. This Sebastian Gongora, he’s a big name. His poems, people still read them. Smart people. These poems are not easy to read, not easy like the sun is hot, water is wet.
They say that this Sebastian Gongora and that other fella, Quevedo, they started their fightin’ in a place called Valladolid. Sounds like a fancy place. I ain’t never been there. I reckon it’s a long way from here. Their fight, it made a lot of writin’, lots of these poem-letters full of bad words. Like kids fightin’ in the schoolyard, but with words. These poets, they are like roosters, always tryin’ to be the boss. They want to show everyone who is best. They use big words, long sentences, to show how smart they are.
This Sebastian Gongora, he liked to use special words, make his poems sound different. I don’t know all these fancy words they use to talk about it. “Culteranismo” and such. Sounds like a disease, don’t it? But it was just his way of writin’. He wanted his poems to be like a fancy paintin’, full of colors and details.
I guess that’s all I know about this Sebastian Gongora fella. He was a poet, a long time ago. He wrote fancy poems that some folks like and some folks don’t. He had a rival, and they fought with words. He’s still remembered today, which is more than most folks can say.
