Skip to main content
Outdated Browser

For the best experience using our website, we recommend upgrading your browser to a newer version or switching to a supported browser.

More Information

Nonfiction

Following Luminous Traces

By Daniela Catrileo
Translated from Spanish by Edith Adams
Daniela Catrileo reaffirms the existence of Mapuche literature—historically considered static or even nonexistent—as a vital, diverse, and growing body of work.
A loom with Mapuche textiles
Marco Antonio Correa Flores, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

For a long time in Chile, it has been difficult to insist upon the specific idea of Mapuche literature. The obstacle was not engaging in a complex discussion about the very concept of “literature” among our people, which would imply throwing oneself over the edge and learning from a different conception of the world. On the contrary, the difficulty was that the imaginative and political place of Mapuche literature had been subsumed into fields of scientific research, or its prolific existence had been displaced to the margins of Chilean literature, as one branch of that official corpus. This denied the possibility of Mapuche enunciation and, thus, of Mapuche writing.

These conditions extend to the diverse creations of other peoples who have also suffered the dispossession of their epistemes and ways of life. Considering this context, the Ayuujk/Mixe linguist and writer Yásnaya Aguilar has noted that “the internal linguistic diversity of countries destroys the idea that they are comprised of only one nation, with a glorious shared past and a single tongue.”1 This situation has resulted in the strengthening of a singular account that establishes itself as law, in the face of an immensity of tongues and narratives that have been concealed.

In this way, Mapuche literature was envisioned as a classification that could also be synonymous with other categories, and not as the experience of a people that is also in the present tense. Just as the poet and researcher Maribel Mora Curriao mentions in her prologue to Kümedungun/Kümewirin. Antología poética de mujeres mapuche (siglos XX-XXI), in which she discusses the study and compilation of literary creations by indigenous peoples: “the complexity lies in the fact that these peoples are living peoples who are not located in a remote past, nor do they remain static for and as a result of the daguerreotype or the writing of scholars from other times.”2

There is an apparent difficulty in understanding the multiplicity of horizons in these territories, as if we did not share a diverse array of histories, struggles, and aspects of daily life. For each time that we are visible as Mapuche, we have to constantly justify and explain our origin. By reaffirming our existence, we signal that we are not part of an immobilized past, but rather, to a large extent, we are creating pathways that transform, just like those of any other peoples. When we refer to a realm where there are still constant colonial violences that deny not only our existence but also our rights, to speak of “Mapuche literature” is not an aesthetic whim or a stylistic category: it is a way by which our people continue to exist in relation to multiple temporalities, not as past utopias or historical idealizations but as complex testimonies in all of their contradictions.

It is also common to reiterate the absence of writing in Mapuche culture, and that idea has cemented a conception steeped in prejudice and ignorance. For that idea does not include the vast trajectory of written or intermediated texts, compiled through the present day. Nor does it recognize a genealogy that has drawn upon orality as the power that allows Mapudungun to endure, as the poet Elicura Chihuailaf declared with the concept of “Oralitura” or “Oraliterature.” These tools are just as present in ülkantun/songs, tram/conversations-recollections, wewpitun/stories, or in the various other works that comprise the literature of the Mapuche people.

Fundamental research projects have established a genealogy of the literature of the Mapuche people and the emergence of writing as a political task since numerous works were gathered in both Ngulumapu and in Puelmapu3 at the end of the nineteenth century and during the twentieth century. On this matter, it is impossible not to refer to the context of dispossession that gives rise to the indigenous social transformations that have taken place since the establishment of republics and their colonial structures, given that the institution of these ran parallel to the military enterprises and extermination tactics that were established under the enactment of the occupation. Therefore, when we speak of the creation and recording of these diverse works, we cannot set aside the consequences and vicissitudes that our people had to face.

Nevertheless, these materials and their heterogeneity today shine forth and call us together through the word of our ancestors. This exercise does not imply carving a path toward a certain origin without contradictions. Nor does it mean obtaining a sole response when faced with Mapuche thought and its creation. For within the existence of a people there are diverse hues, and it is precisely these mixtures and these threads or fibers that we are interested in gathering as burning vestiges in order to also weave a future of recuperation. In these tracks and traces, we arrive at the series of writings published in Revista Anales de la Universidad de Chile and Estudios Araucanos between 1895 and 1896 by Rodolfo Lenz, whose studies would come to inspire later ones, such as those by the Capuchin missionaries Fray Félix José de Augusta and Ernesto Wilhelm de Moesbach.

Lenz does not abandon the positivist vision of wanting to investigate a people that he believed to be on the verge of extinction, given that hierarchical expressions regarding the subject being studied or the so-called “informant” still took precedence. However, beyond his scientific rigor or his pejorative gaze, there was an inaugural event in the speech that he gave in 1897, which, given the context of the work and the field of study, makes this moment particularly rare. What occurs is an affirmation of a Mapuche literature, something that, until that moment, had been completely unheard of:

Although many chroniclers of the Arauco Wars speak to us of the songs and poems of the Indians of Chile, although we know that the art of the orator is highly esteemed among them, not a single document from past centuries has been preserved that gives us an example of Araucanian literature. And until now, it had never even been suspected that this group of people had popular literature!4

It is to these studies and writings that we return today in order to read them through the filter of the present, to continue reconstructing the roots that comprise our rakiduam/thought and transform our gaze when faced with these writings, to once again make them prismatic in their uses so that they can arrive at the shores of other readings, bodies, and territories.

One of the key aspects of Lenz’s studies is that, in conjunction with the categories that he analyzes, he tries to compare Mapuche literature to the materials that he had or was familiar with from other countries. He establishes a wide array of genres for the diverse productions and observes a mixture of styles. He also takes note of a sort of disguise as a tactic of reappropriation and transformation that promoted an imaginative/reflexive perspective in certain creations. Just as Mapuche culture adapted to new materials and customs, so too did it rewrite—or rather, unsettle—the original narrative, just as it did with the animals, foods, and metals introduced with colonization. Although Lenz read this aspect in the register of colonization’s civilizing capacity, we can today understand it as an imaginative power that is inseparable from thought itself: “this group of people has transformed foreign literature [. . .] they not only have possessed a particular literature in which they have conserved their ancient myths, but they also have perfectly assimilated all of the treasures of popular literature.”5

Even though Lenz’s work was important and tireless, we cannot think about this project without the authorships and compilations of those who previously appeared as informants. Because there is no Mapuche literature without the labor of Kallfün, Juan Amasa, Antonio Kiñenaw, Benito Nagin Transao, Domingo Kintupüray, among many others whose names we may never come to know. Among these authors, the one who provided extensive material and collaboration was Kallfün, who received great praise from Lenz for his intellectual capacities, which strengthened Lenz’s investigative work. Part of his autobiography shows us the importance of strengthening literature as a tool and understanding it in relation to listening, as part of literature’s task of collectively bearing witness: 

I paid careful attention to words, because of that I know how to write [. . .] Because I had paid attention to words, I heard what people were going around saying; I heard it, because of that I became knowledgeable; people tell each other stories, because of that I know how to tell stories.6

Literary practices coexist in different forms of production and time periods, transforming and experimenting with their aesthetics ever since there has been a record of them. Because of this, literature is a living element that relates to all of Mapuche being, from its presence in a Rogativa Mapuche or ancestral ceremony, in a playful action, or in the plot of a witral. Its forms have been created and memorized across this ample territory, with all its flows and diasporas.

Today, there is not only one place of reading. We confront the textiles and we weave and unweave the fabric of voices, vestiges, and temporalities of which we also form part. Let’s demand to exist in that multiplicity of textures that constitutes us as a people, let’s keep tracking luminous traces as a means of memory and resistance, but also of entertainment. Let’s be capable of listening to an ül as thought, reading a poem as a political act, writing knowing that we are part of a complex common, as lamngen Liliana Ancalao reminds us:

To be an originary Mapuche poet is to be a researcher, historian, anthropologist, semiologist, linguist, celebrant. Heaven help us, now that the lamngen place within us images of their memories, histories of their families, reports of abuses! Heaven help us, now that the rivers are watching us to see how we translate them into words!7


1. Yásnara Aguilar, Ruperta Bautista, and Gloria Anzaldúa, Lo lingüístico es político (Valencia-Chiapas: Ediciones OnA, 2019), 63.

2. Maribel Mora and Fernanda Moraga, ed., Kümedungun/Kümewirin. Antología poética de mujeres mapuche (siglos XX-XXI), (Santiago: LOM Ediciones, 2011), 6.

3. Ngulumapu corresponds to the territory situated to the west of Wallmapu (the Mapuche territory) and Puelmapu corresponds to its eastern territory.

4. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 18.

5. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 277.

6. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 138.

7. Liliana Ancalao, Resuello (Madrid: Editorial Marisma, 2018), 60.

Unless otherwise noted, translations of cited text are by this essay’s translator.


Copyright © 2023 by Daniela Catrileo. Translation © 2023 by Edith Adams. All rights reserved.

To learn more about Mapuche writing, read Liliana Ancalao’s conversation with Elisa Taber: “Living Words: An Introduction to Five Contemporary Mapuche Texts.”

English Spanish (Original)

For a long time in Chile, it has been difficult to insist upon the specific idea of Mapuche literature. The obstacle was not engaging in a complex discussion about the very concept of “literature” among our people, which would imply throwing oneself over the edge and learning from a different conception of the world. On the contrary, the difficulty was that the imaginative and political place of Mapuche literature had been subsumed into fields of scientific research, or its prolific existence had been displaced to the margins of Chilean literature, as one branch of that official corpus. This denied the possibility of Mapuche enunciation and, thus, of Mapuche writing.

These conditions extend to the diverse creations of other peoples who have also suffered the dispossession of their epistemes and ways of life. Considering this context, the Ayuujk/Mixe linguist and writer Yásnaya Aguilar has noted that “the internal linguistic diversity of countries destroys the idea that they are comprised of only one nation, with a glorious shared past and a single tongue.”1 This situation has resulted in the strengthening of a singular account that establishes itself as law, in the face of an immensity of tongues and narratives that have been concealed.

In this way, Mapuche literature was envisioned as a classification that could also be synonymous with other categories, and not as the experience of a people that is also in the present tense. Just as the poet and researcher Maribel Mora Curriao mentions in her prologue to Kümedungun/Kümewirin. Antología poética de mujeres mapuche (siglos XX-XXI), in which she discusses the study and compilation of literary creations by indigenous peoples: “the complexity lies in the fact that these peoples are living peoples who are not located in a remote past, nor do they remain static for and as a result of the daguerreotype or the writing of scholars from other times.”2

There is an apparent difficulty in understanding the multiplicity of horizons in these territories, as if we did not share a diverse array of histories, struggles, and aspects of daily life. For each time that we are visible as Mapuche, we have to constantly justify and explain our origin. By reaffirming our existence, we signal that we are not part of an immobilized past, but rather, to a large extent, we are creating pathways that transform, just like those of any other peoples. When we refer to a realm where there are still constant colonial violences that deny not only our existence but also our rights, to speak of “Mapuche literature” is not an aesthetic whim or a stylistic category: it is a way by which our people continue to exist in relation to multiple temporalities, not as past utopias or historical idealizations but as complex testimonies in all of their contradictions.

It is also common to reiterate the absence of writing in Mapuche culture, and that idea has cemented a conception steeped in prejudice and ignorance. For that idea does not include the vast trajectory of written or intermediated texts, compiled through the present day. Nor does it recognize a genealogy that has drawn upon orality as the power that allows Mapudungun to endure, as the poet Elicura Chihuailaf declared with the concept of “Oralitura” or “Oraliterature.” These tools are just as present in ülkantun/songs, tram/conversations-recollections, wewpitun/stories, or in the various other works that comprise the literature of the Mapuche people.

Fundamental research projects have established a genealogy of the literature of the Mapuche people and the emergence of writing as a political task since numerous works were gathered in both Ngulumapu and in Puelmapu3 at the end of the nineteenth century and during the twentieth century. On this matter, it is impossible not to refer to the context of dispossession that gives rise to the indigenous social transformations that have taken place since the establishment of republics and their colonial structures, given that the institution of these ran parallel to the military enterprises and extermination tactics that were established under the enactment of the occupation. Therefore, when we speak of the creation and recording of these diverse works, we cannot set aside the consequences and vicissitudes that our people had to face.

Nevertheless, these materials and their heterogeneity today shine forth and call us together through the word of our ancestors. This exercise does not imply carving a path toward a certain origin without contradictions. Nor does it mean obtaining a sole response when faced with Mapuche thought and its creation. For within the existence of a people there are diverse hues, and it is precisely these mixtures and these threads or fibers that we are interested in gathering as burning vestiges in order to also weave a future of recuperation. In these tracks and traces, we arrive at the series of writings published in Revista Anales de la Universidad de Chile and Estudios Araucanos between 1895 and 1896 by Rodolfo Lenz, whose studies would come to inspire later ones, such as those by the Capuchin missionaries Fray Félix José de Augusta and Ernesto Wilhelm de Moesbach.

Lenz does not abandon the positivist vision of wanting to investigate a people that he believed to be on the verge of extinction, given that hierarchical expressions regarding the subject being studied or the so-called “informant” still took precedence. However, beyond his scientific rigor or his pejorative gaze, there was an inaugural event in the speech that he gave in 1897, which, given the context of the work and the field of study, makes this moment particularly rare. What occurs is an affirmation of a Mapuche literature, something that, until that moment, had been completely unheard of:

Although many chroniclers of the Arauco Wars speak to us of the songs and poems of the Indians of Chile, although we know that the art of the orator is highly esteemed among them, not a single document from past centuries has been preserved that gives us an example of Araucanian literature. And until now, it had never even been suspected that this group of people had popular literature!4

It is to these studies and writings that we return today in order to read them through the filter of the present, to continue reconstructing the roots that comprise our rakiduam/thought and transform our gaze when faced with these writings, to once again make them prismatic in their uses so that they can arrive at the shores of other readings, bodies, and territories.

One of the key aspects of Lenz’s studies is that, in conjunction with the categories that he analyzes, he tries to compare Mapuche literature to the materials that he had or was familiar with from other countries. He establishes a wide array of genres for the diverse productions and observes a mixture of styles. He also takes note of a sort of disguise as a tactic of reappropriation and transformation that promoted an imaginative/reflexive perspective in certain creations. Just as Mapuche culture adapted to new materials and customs, so too did it rewrite—or rather, unsettle—the original narrative, just as it did with the animals, foods, and metals introduced with colonization. Although Lenz read this aspect in the register of colonization’s civilizing capacity, we can today understand it as an imaginative power that is inseparable from thought itself: “this group of people has transformed foreign literature [. . .] they not only have possessed a particular literature in which they have conserved their ancient myths, but they also have perfectly assimilated all of the treasures of popular literature.”5

Even though Lenz’s work was important and tireless, we cannot think about this project without the authorships and compilations of those who previously appeared as informants. Because there is no Mapuche literature without the labor of Kallfün, Juan Amasa, Antonio Kiñenaw, Benito Nagin Transao, Domingo Kintupüray, among many others whose names we may never come to know. Among these authors, the one who provided extensive material and collaboration was Kallfün, who received great praise from Lenz for his intellectual capacities, which strengthened Lenz’s investigative work. Part of his autobiography shows us the importance of strengthening literature as a tool and understanding it in relation to listening, as part of literature’s task of collectively bearing witness: 

I paid careful attention to words, because of that I know how to write [. . .] Because I had paid attention to words, I heard what people were going around saying; I heard it, because of that I became knowledgeable; people tell each other stories, because of that I know how to tell stories.6

Literary practices coexist in different forms of production and time periods, transforming and experimenting with their aesthetics ever since there has been a record of them. Because of this, literature is a living element that relates to all of Mapuche being, from its presence in a Rogativa Mapuche or ancestral ceremony, in a playful action, or in the plot of a witral. Its forms have been created and memorized across this ample territory, with all its flows and diasporas.

Today, there is not only one place of reading. We confront the textiles and we weave and unweave the fabric of voices, vestiges, and temporalities of which we also form part. Let’s demand to exist in that multiplicity of textures that constitutes us as a people, let’s keep tracking luminous traces as a means of memory and resistance, but also of entertainment. Let’s be capable of listening to an ül as thought, reading a poem as a political act, writing knowing that we are part of a complex common, as lamngen Liliana Ancalao reminds us:

To be an originary Mapuche poet is to be a researcher, historian, anthropologist, semiologist, linguist, celebrant. Heaven help us, now that the lamngen place within us images of their memories, histories of their families, reports of abuses! Heaven help us, now that the rivers are watching us to see how we translate them into words!7


1. Yásnara Aguilar, Ruperta Bautista, and Gloria Anzaldúa, Lo lingüístico es político (Valencia-Chiapas: Ediciones OnA, 2019), 63.

2. Maribel Mora and Fernanda Moraga, ed., Kümedungun/Kümewirin. Antología poética de mujeres mapuche (siglos XX-XXI), (Santiago: LOM Ediciones, 2011), 6.

3. Ngulumapu corresponds to the territory situated to the west of Wallmapu (the Mapuche territory) and Puelmapu corresponds to its eastern territory.

4. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 18.

5. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 277.

6. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos (Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897), 138.

7. Liliana Ancalao, Resuello (Madrid: Editorial Marisma, 2018), 60.

Unless otherwise noted, translations of cited text are by this essay’s translator.


Copyright © 2023 by Daniela Catrileo. Translation © 2023 by Edith Adams. All rights reserved.

To learn more about Mapuche writing, read Liliana Ancalao’s conversation with Elisa Taber: “Living Words: An Introduction to Five Contemporary Mapuche Texts.”

Tras huellas luminosas

Durante mucho tiempo en Chile, ha sido difícil insistir con la idea específica de una literatura mapuche. Este impedimento no estaba situado en discutir complejamente el concepto mismo de “literatura” en nuestro pueblo, lo que podría implicar, arrojarse a las orillas y aprender de una concepción de mundo diferente. Al contrario, la dificultad radicaba en que su lugar imaginativo y político, había quedado subsumido en campos de investigación cientificista o su prolífica existencia era desplazada al margen de la literatura chilena, como una ramificación de aquel corpus oficial. Negando lo mapuche como posibilidad de enunciación y, por tanto, de escritura.

Este acontecimiento se extiende a diversas creaciones de pueblos que han sufrido el despojo de sus epistemes y formas de vida. Ante esto, la lingüista y escritora ayuujk/mixe Yásnaya Aguilar, señala que “la diversidad lingüística interna de los países destruye la idea de que están constituidos por naciones únicas, con un pasado glorioso compartido, con una sola lengua”1. Esta operación ha traído como consecuencia el robustecimiento de un relato singular que se erige en la legalidad, frente al ocultamiento de una inmensidad de lenguas-narraciones que han sido veladas.

De esta forma, lo mapuche, era vislumbrado como una clasificación que también podía ser sinónimo de otras categorías y no como la experiencia de un pueblo que es también tiempo presente. Tal como nos menciona la poeta e investigadora Maribel Mora Curriao en su prólogo a la Antología poética de mujeres mapuche Kümedungun / Kümewirin, sobre el estudio y compilación de creaciones literarias de pueblos indígenas: “la complejidad radica en que la mayoría de estos pueblos son pueblos vivos y no se ubican en un pasado remoto ni permanecen estáticos para y por efecto del daguerrotipo o la escritura de los estudiosos de otras épocas”.2

Hay una dificultad en comprender una multiplicidad de horizontes en estos territorios, como si no compartiésemos diversas historias, luchas y cotidianeidades. Pues cada vez que somos visibles como mapuche, tenemos que justificar y explicar constantemente nuestra procedencia. Ya que al reafirmar nuestra existencia señalamos que no formamos parte de un  ayer inmovilizado, sino  que en gran medida creamos rutas que se transforman, como en cualquier otro pueblo. Cuando nos situamos en una esfera donde aún se ejercen constantes violencias coloniales que niegan no sólo nuestra existencia sino también nuestros derechos, decir “literatura mapuche” no es un antojo estético, ni una categoría estilística, es una forma de que nuestro pueblo siga existiendo en relación a sus múltiples tiempos, sin utopías pasadas ni idealizaciones históricas, sino testimonios complejos con todas sus contradicciones.

Es común también, la reiteración sobre la ausencia de escritura en la cultura mapuche, esta idea ha cimentado una concepción impregnada de prejuicios e ignorancia. Pues aquello no comprendería la vasta trayectoria de escrituras intermediarias y /o escritas, compiladas hasta el día de hoy. Ni tampoco el reconocimiento de una genealogía del recurso de la oralidad como potencia del mapudungun en permanecer como lo ha declarado el poeta Elicura Chihuailaf con el concepto de “Oralitura”. Estas herramientas están presentes, tanto en ülkantun/cantos, en tram/conversaciones-relatos, en wewpitun/historias o en las variadas producciones que conforman la literatura del pueblo mapuche.

Existen investigaciones fundamentales para situar una genealogía de la literatura del pueblo mapuche y la irrupción de la escritura como una labor política. Pues hay una abundancia de elementos reunidos, tanto en Ngulumapu como en Puelmapu3 desde finales del siglo XIX y durante el siglo XX. En este sentido, es imposible no referirse al contexto de despojo que da pie a las transformaciones sociales indígenas, a partir de las instauraciones de las repúblicas y su estructura colonial, ya que sus instalaciones fueron paralelas a sus empresas bélicas y tácticas de exterminio que se establecieron bajo el ejercicio de la ocupación. Por tanto, cuando hablamos de producción y registro de estas diversas creaciones, no podemos dejar de lado, las consecuencias y vicisitudes que nuestra gente tuvo que enfrentar.

No obstante, son esos materiales y su heterogeneidad los que hoy resplandecen para convocarnos, a través de la palabra de nuestros/as antecesores/as. Este ejercicio no significa encaminar la ruta hacia un origen certero y sin contradicciones. Ni tampoco obtener una respuesta única ante el pensamiento mapuche y su creación. Pues en la existencia de un pueblo existen diversos matices y son esas mixturas y sus hebras, las que interesa recoger como vestigios ardientes, para tramar también un porvenir de recuperación. En esas trazas y huellas, se llega al cúmulo de escrituras publicados por Rodolfo Lenz, entre 1895 y 1896, en la Revista Anales de la Universidad de Chile y en Estudios Araucanos, cuyas investigaciones llegarían a motivar otras posteriores como las de los misioneros capuchinos Fray Félix José de Augusta y Ernesto Wilhelm de Moesbach.

Lenz no abandona una visión positivista de querer investigar a un pueblo que creía en vías de extinción, pues aún primaban expresiones jerárquicas con respecto al sujeto estudiado o al que llamaba “informante”. Sin embargo, más allá de su rigurosidad científica o mirada peyorativa, habría un acontecimiento inaugural en el discurso que da en 1897, lo que para el contexto de trabajo y ámbito de estudio, lo transforma en una rareza. Aquello es la afirmación de una literatura mapuche, cuestión que para ese entonces era totalmente desconocida:

Aunque muchos cronistas de las guerras de Arauco nos hablan de cantos y poesías de los indios de Chile, aunque sabemos que el arte del orador se apreciaba mucho entre ellos, no se ha conservado ningún documento de los siglos pasados que nos de una muestra de la literatura araucana. ¡Y hasta nuestros días, ni se sospechaba que este pueblo tuviera una literatura popular!4

Son estas investigaciones y escrituras, a las que hoy retornamos para ser leerlas con el filtro del presente, para seguir reconstruyendo las raíces que conforman nuestro rakiduam/ pensamiento, y transformar nuestra mirada frente a las escrituras, volverlas prismáticas en sus usos para que puedan arribar a otras lecturas, cuerpos y territorios.

Uno de los aspectos fundamentales de los estudios de Lenz, es que conjuntamente a las categorías que analiza, intenta comparar la literatura mapuche con los materiales que tenía o conocía de otros países. Establece un abanico de géneros para las diversas producciones y observa una mixtura en estilos. Además, da cuenta de una especie de disfraz como táctica de reapropiación y de trasformación que potenció una perspectiva imaginativa/reflexiva de algunas creaciones. Tal como la cultura se adaptó a nuevos materiales y costumbres, asimismo reescribieron, o mejor dicho, trastocaron el relato original como lo hicieron con los animales, los alimentos y los metales introducidos con la colonización. Aunque este aspecto Lenz lo leyera en clave de capacidad civilizatoria, lo podemos comprender hoy como potencia imaginativa, por tanto de pensamiento “este pueblo ha transformado la literatura extranjera […] no solo han poseído una literatura particular en la cual conservaban sus antiguos mitos, sino que de una manera muy perfecta se han asimilado todo el tesoro de la literatura popular”5.

Si bien el trabajo de Lenz fue importante e incansable, no podemos pensar esta producción sin las autorías y recopilaciones de quienes antes aparecían como informantes. Pues no hay literatura mapuche sin la labor de: Kallfün, Juan Amasa, Antonio Kiñenaw, Benito Nagin Transao, Domingo Kintupüray entre otros y otras, de quienes no alcanzamos a conocer sus nombres. Entre estas autorías, quien concedió un extenso material y colaboración fue Kallfün, recibiendo múltiples elogios de Lenz por sus capacidades intelectuales que fortalecieron su trabajo investigativo. Parte de su autobiografía nos manifiesta la importancia de robustecer la escritura como herramienta y entenderla en  relación a la escucha, en el oficio literario de testimoniar colectivamente:

Me fijé bien en las palabras, por eso sé escribir [ . . . ] Por tener prestar atención a las palabras oí lo que andaba diciendo la gente; lo oí, por eso tengo conocimiento; se cuenta relatos la gente, por eso sé contar relatos.6

Las prácticas literarias coexisten en formas de producción y en épocas diferentes, transformando y experimentando sobre sus estéticas desde que hay registro de ellas. Por eso, la literatura es un elemento vivo que se relaciona con todo el ser mapuche, desde la presencia en una rogativa, en una acción lúdica o en la trama de un witral. Sus formas, han sido creadas y memorizadas en el amplio territorio, con todos sus cauces y diásporas.

Hoy no existe un lugar único de lectura, enfrentemos los textiles y armemos/desarmemos la urdimbre de voces, vestigios y temporalidades de las que también formamos parte. Exijamos existir en aquella multiplicidad de texturas que nos conforman como pueblo, sigamos rastreando huellas luminosas como una fórmula de memoria y resistencia, pero también de entretención. Seamos capaces de escuchar un ül como pensamiento, leer un poema como acto político, escribir sabiéndonos parte de un común complejo, como nos recuerda la lamngen Liliana Ancalao:

Ser poeta originario mapuche es ser investigador, historiador, antropólogo, semiólogo, lingüista, celebrante. ¡Ay de nosotros ahora que los lamngen depositan en nosotros las imágenes de sus recuerdos, las historias de sus familias, las denuncias de los abusos! ¡Ay de nosotros Ahora que los ríos nos están mirando para ver cómo los traducimos en palabras!7


1. Yásnara Aguilar, Ruperta Bautista y Gloria Anzaldúa. Lo lingüístico es político. Valencia-Chiapas, Ediciones OnA, 2019, p. 63.

2. Maribel Mora y Fernanda Moraga (Ed.). Kümedungun/Kümewirin. Antología poética de mujeres mapuche (siglos XX-XXI)Santiago, LOM Ediciones, 2011, p. 6.

3. Ngulumapu corresponde al territorio ubicado hacia occidente de Wallmapu (territorio mapuche) y Puelmapu corresponde a su territorio oriental.

4. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura, i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos, Santiago, Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897, p. 18.

5. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura, i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos, Santiago, Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897, p. 277.

6. Rodolfo Lenz, Estudios Araucanos, materiales para el estudio de la lengua, la literatura, i las costumbres de los indios mapuche o araucanos, Santiago, Imprenta Cervantes, 1895-1897, p. 138.

7. Liliana Ancalao, Resuello, Madrid, Editorial Marisma, 2018, p. 60.

Read Next