"I suffer from a real, excruciating hunger that attacks my nerves": the letters of Pere Vives, who died in Mauthausen

Barcelona"The meager and absurdly idiotic meals, the hunger, a genuine and excruciating hunger that attacks the nerves; the lice, those little bugs that, if we could, we would eliminate in five minutes and against which we must sustain an exhausting and sterile fight. And the cold, that new enemy that has not been new, sharpens your nerves," wrote Pere Vives (Barcelona, ​​​​1910 - Mauthausen, 1941) to the poet Agustí Bartra on December 14, 1939. A little over a month later, on January 27, 1940, he sent him the last one. He would send his family one last one, from a prisoner-of-war camp, on June 22, 1941. After that, there was a long silence, because it was not until after the Second World War that Vives's mother learned that her son had died in October 1941 in Mauthausen, where he had been deported two months earlier. He never sent any letters from the concentration camp, and the only witness to how he died is the one left by his companion. Joaquín Amat-Piniella to KL Reich: had been given a shot of gasoline.

Club Editor, coinciding with the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Mauthausen, has published a new edition, with quite a few new features, of Letters from the concentration camps, with a prologue by Marta Marín-Dómine. The first edition was published in 1972, and it was not easy, because Vives' sister did not want to hear about it, and a reprint was made in 1980. In this new edition there is an enrichment of letters - there are 15 addressed to Bartra and 27 to the family -, one of the KL Reich and the Bartra poems that Vives comments on in his letters have been included. "They are poems as they were when he sent them to Pere Vives, and it hasn't been easy to find these first editions," explains Club Editor editor Maria Bohigas. "The book shows how people who find themselves in a situation where everything fails cling to camaraderie and poetry as the only reasonable way to project themselves into the future," says the editor. Vives could have been a great writer, but, unlike Bartra, he couldn't be rescued and didn't survive.

Vives and Bartra, who had fought on the Republican side and shared part of their exile, met in the Agde camp. Bartra was fortunate to be able to survive because he was part of the group of Catalan writers that the Generalitat (Catalan Government) and the French government installed in the Roissy-en-Brie castle. Vives hoped they would help him too and that he could go to England, but he and Amat-Piniella ended up in the Foreign Workers' Companies (CTE). They were sent to the Maginot Line, the fortifications that were supposed to protect France from the Nazis—they failed—and were taken prisoner by the Germans and sent to Mauthausen.

"The Bomb of Happiness"

In one of his letters, Bartra explains to Vives what his life was like at the castle, where he met the writer Anna Murià, with whom he fell in love and with whom he was able to leave first for Santo Domingo and then for Mexico. Vives mentions the "bomb of happiness" the poet describes and replies: "I never felt envious for a moment because you were well off in Paris and I was brutally worse off. I feel fulfilled and responsible for my destiny. However miserable and sad it may be, it is mine alone, and I don't even hold the fascists responsible," writes Vives. A few lines later, he adds: "And in the four months in Agde and the four months of correspondence, our friendship, which I wish and hope will last, could not and has not reached the level of brotherhood. And there was no reason for you to tie me to yourself the way you have tied Anna, for example. All in all, I would have liked it."

Vives, the son of a porter and a peasant woman, aspired to be a writer before volunteering for the front when the Civil War broke out. He had learned English, Italian, and French, attempted some translation, participated in the events of October 6, and organized lectures at the Popular Encyclopedic Athenaeum. "I was an apprentice writer," says Marín-Dòmine, and was not part of the group of writers that the Generalitat felt it should save. "There is love in the letters, but also a certain resentment of despair," adds Marín-Dòmine.

Over time, his voice became more bitter, and death was more present. However, Marín-Dòmine emphasizes that Vives's voice is a young one, one who wants to write, has talent, and who does not seek to inspire pity, but instead shields himself with literature. Vives recited Bartra to his barracksmates; there was also a certain adoration. As months passed, he realized that Bartra couldn't understand what was happening to him, because the poet was free and safe with a group of intellectuals: "I tried to scream and tell him that I couldn't do anything," Marín-Dòmine explains. "Vives becomes a very fertile ghost in Bartra; he also explains everything that happens after an absence," Bohigas adds.

The tragedy of losing glasses

Vives arrived at Mauthausen in a rather pitiful physical condition. With Ferran Planes, the author ofThe mess, and Joaquim Amat-Piniella attempted to escape from the German army internment center on the outskirts of Mulhouse, France. The only one who managed was Planes. Curiously, both Amat-Piniella and Vives had lost their glasses, and not seeing well creates a feeling of vulnerability. According to Amat-Piniella, Vives had lost them in Agde and, from that moment on, began to suffer physical deterioration.

The book also includes a letter from Julie Ausset to Pere Vives, which she signs on behalf of herself and her sister Éloïse. "It's an important letter because it underscores the importance of the solidarity of a segment of the French population with the Spanish Republicans," Marín-Dòmine points out. Both sisters were in contact with Bartra and Vives. One was a teacher and the other a retired English teacher. They were Vives's hope of getting out of the camp. "This solidarity has often been forgotten, and now it's something that's very close to home, because current democracies prohibit us from offering solidarity and assistance," Marín-Dòmine emphasizes.