Original article: «Ahora les ruego guardarme las espaldas. Yo vivo aún en España: consideren esta carta como el más íntimo diálogo familiar»: La escandalosa filtración de la que fue víctima Gabriela Mistral By Osvaldo Carvajal M. , academic at the Bachelor of Literature and the Doctorate in Applied Humanities at U.
Andrés Bello Do you think leaks are a modern phenomenon? Far from it. Just as today’s WhatsApp screenshots and government memos can go public, a letter sent in confidence could end up in one of the country’s most widely read magazines.
This is precisely what happened to Gabriela Mistral. There are numerous versions and myths surrounding the case, so let’s dig into the archives. In 1933, allegedly in search of her peace of mind, the Chilean government appointed Mistral as a diplomat to Spain—a country that had just proclaimed its Second Republic (no longer monarchical) and was moving through a tense cycle of left and right governments towards civil war.
A delightful work environment… It is in this context that Gabriela pens what Volodia Teitelboim refers to as the “dynamite letter”. In it, she addresses literary critic Armando Donoso and writer María Monvel, literally her “co-parents” (she was the godmother of the poet’s daughter). In the trust of friendship, a disillusioned Mistral describes a “sick” Spain, marked by fear, corruption, and misery.
If these are strong words for an intimate letter, imagine the public reaction when they surfaced two years later in the tribute section “Life and Confessions of Gabriela Mistral” in the magazine Familia. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the publication sparked a scandal. There were attacks in the press—particularly from conservative sectors defending Spain—anonymous threats, and, just like today, demands for resignation.
This point is crucial: Mistral would indeed be transferred to Lisbon just a month later. To what extent did the letter-gate incident play a role, and who was behind it? We will find out.
Volodia attributes responsibility to a “tall, hefty, blind woman with a clumsy gait and a childlike voice,” who at the time directed the magazine Familia, Marta Brunet. Years later, Mistral herself would reinforce this version: Brunet, in her role as director, commissioned the section to the film critic for the magazine; he, gathering information, asked Donoso for help, who sent him a package of documents without even reviewing it… That’s where the explosive content lay. Returning to the search for culprits, like many magazines of the time, Familia did not specify who was in charge.
This changed only with the ensuing scandal, when they had to publicly apologize to the Spanish ambassador. The statement, signed by Francisco Méndez, noted that a contributor “lacked the tact and judgment to comprehend that such private statements were unpublishable” and that “the first measure taken by the company was to separate from it” the indiscreet individual. Was Marta Brunet that contributor?
It’s difficult to assert, especially considering that a month later, Familia would feature the cover stating “Co-Directors: Francisco Méndez and Marta Brunet,” and in May of the following year, “Directed by: Marta Brunet. ” In other words, Brunet not only continued working at the magazine, but also got promoted, marking the beginning of an era where the names of all collaborators would appear on the cover. Sometimes the evidence found in the archives leads us to contradict our authors.
Something similar happened to Karen Benavente and Daniela Schütte: despite Mistral speaking of a conspiracy to remove her from her position, they discovered that the poet had wanted to leave from the outset and had persistently requested a transfer to Lisbon. Tempted to interpret it as a “Mistral maneuver,” they prefer caution and attribute the debacle to a “curious oversight” by Donoso. I admire them, but I am a conspiracy theorist.
My work on Brunet shows that she coordinated and wrote much of the magazine from the very first issue. That’s why it’s hard to believe that she wouldn’t have foreseen what could happen with that letter. This, combined with the fact that the entire scandal would ultimately allow her work and that of her team to be highlighted… makes me suspicious of her intentions.
We are talking about two great chess players in the Chilean cultural arena! But be careful, this isn’t the only time their paths crossed in confounding situations. Another day I will tell you about the letter of non-recommendation that Mistral wrote to Brunet: for the greatest forgave, but never forgot… So, who was ultimately responsible for the publication of the dynamite letter?
The “contributor” mentioned by Méndez in his public apology was the “film critic” alluded to by Volodia—one Miguel Munizaga. In a letter sent from Lisbon, Mistral describes him as a creole Tartuffe (preaching but not practicing) who harbored resentment for being ignored in his requests for interviews. The most curious part?
He was related to the chaplain who denied entry to La Serena’s Normal School at the age of 15 for her “pagan verses. ” And the worst part? The explanation given to the mother of the first Latin American woman to win the Nobel Prize was that she was a “person lacking all intelligence.
” The Munizaga family sure had some attention… Osvaldo Carvajal M.