Rubén Darío's Nicaragua

To observe Nicaraguans' love of poet Rubén Darío, Tim Neville visits Nicaragua on what would have been the father of Spanish Modernism's 150th birthday. The resulting feature at the New York Times traces the writer's imprint on the nation's cultural (and literal) landscape. As Neville writes, "Once you know him, you see him everywhere. He’s in the airport and in the park. He’s by the hotel entrance and inside the theater. I even caught a glimpse of him on the side of an armored bank truck in Managua. Now this poet, diplomat and hero of Nicaragua lay at my feet, very much alive at 101 years dead." From there: 

Almost any Spanish speaker will know the name Rubén Darío. He wasn’t just a writer. He was the father of Spanish Modernism, the one who gave them their language back. For that they are grateful. Madrid has a Rubén Darío metro station. You’ll find Calle Rubén Darío in Mexico City, Panama City, San Salvador and Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Rubén Darío Middle School sits next to Rubén Darío Park in Miami. But Darío was born in, raised in and died in Nicaragua, and to them he’s 100 percent theirs.

“He’s everything to us!” said a night clerk in Granada.

“He’s the identity of our culture!” said the musician in Managua.

“Want to hear a joke about Darío?” asked the waitress. “It’s naughty.”

I’d come to Nicaragua last January not to surf or hike or do yoga on the beach, but to explore the profound love that Nicaraguans hold for a poet on what would have been his 150th birthday. Politicians would give speeches. There’d be parades and symposiums and recitals. For the moment I was in León, the intellectual hub of Nicaragua, where Darío’s ghost looms largest.

Learn more at NYT.