Ariel Dorfman, the Chilean novelist, playwright, essayist, journalist and human rights advocate, will speak in Asbury Hall at Babeville, 341 Delaware Avenue, this Friday, December 7 at 8pm, as part of the Just Buffalo Literary Center’s Babel series.

Dorfman’s life is as fascinating as his work. Born in 1942 in Buenos Aires, Argentina, his family moved to the United States when he was an infant and stayed here until 1954, when they relocated to Chile. He adopted Chilean citizenship in 1967, began a career as a university professor, and from 1970 until 1973, served as cultural advisor to the chief of staff for Chile’s democratically elected socialist President, Salvador Allende. This government was opposed by the Nixon administration, which sought to destabilize Chile during this time. On September 11, 1973, General Augusto Pinochet seized power in a coup d’état that ended with Allende’s death. Pinochet’s regime, supported by the US government, was characterized by the brutal suppression of opposition. Very quickly supporters of Allende were imprisoned, tortured, murdered or simply disappeared from their homes or off the street. Thousands disappeared during this time. Dorfman escaped into exile.

Since 1985 Dorfman has taught at Duke University, where he is the Walter Hines Page Research Professor of Literature and Professor of Latin American Studies. The author of numerous works in Spanish and in English, Dorfman often explores issues of tyranny in his writing. In recent years, he has written substantial autobiographical work, notably, Heading South, Looking North: A Bilingual Journey (1999). He has also written, extensively, about Pinochet’s extradition case, and is the author of Exorcising Terror: The Incredible Unending Trial of Augusto Pinochet (2002). Other works include In Case of Fire in a Foreign Land: New and Collected Poems from Two Languages; How to Read Donald Duck and Other Septembers. His work has been translated into more than 40 languages and his plays have been performed in more than 100 countries.

Dorfman is widely known for his1991 play, Death and the Maiden, about a former political prisoner who encounters the man she believes tortured her, 15 years later. The play was produced on Broadway in 1992 starring Glenn Close, Richard Dreyfuss and Gene Hackman. A film version, directed by Roman Polanski, starred Sigourney Weaver, Ben Kingsley and Stuart Wilson. (Buffalo United Artists will present a reading of the play, featuring Josephine Hogan, Peter Palmisano and Drew Kahn, at Alleyway Theatre on Saturday, December 8 at 7:30pm, as a benefit for Just Buffalo).

Dorfman is also the subject of a feature-length documentary, A Promise to the Dead, directed by Peter Raymont, which had its world premiere at the 2007 Toronto International Film Festival on September 8. The film, “an exploration of exile, memory, longing and democracy” as recounted through Dorfman’s experiences, is heavily favored for an Oscar nomination as Best Feature Documentary.

During the week before his appearance in Buffalo, Dorfman was in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. He responded to questions posed by Artvoice by email:

Artvoice: Do you feel gratified by reactions to Peter Raymont’s film, A Promise to the Dead?

Ariel Dorfman: It has been both strange and surprising to witness this extremely successful run and the possibilities of major awards. I had refused, for many years, to accept any film projects based on my memoir, Heading South, Looking North: A Bilingual Journey, because I felt they might end up being too self-serving. Two factors allowed me to work with Peter Raymont: One was how much I admired his work (particularly his Shake Hands with the Devil, which just won an Emmy, by the way); and the other was the way in which the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, made my own experience in Chile ever more relevant, inasmuch (as the film shows) Chileans looked for a way to turn the violence inflicted upon us into a struggle for peace and justice and not for revenge and invasions. It seemed the right time to film my story and it is indeed gratifying to realize that many others—at festivals, in theatres and across the world—feel the same way as I do.

AV: How does the passage of time change the meaning of September 11, 1973 [the day Pinochet seized power] for you?

Dorfman: In spite of the fact that the past is always being transformed by us and that the meaning of traumatic events inevitably change over time, I have tried to keep the date as ferociously and tenderly as I can in my memory, the day I should have died and did not, the day democracy in my country was destroyed and had to find a way of staying alive in our hearts.

AV: Why do you think Death and the Maiden endures so long after it was introduced and despite all the history that occurred since 1991?

Dorfman: It was never only about Chile. Nothing I write is only about one place, one person, one issue. Would you ask the same question about any other major play of the 20th century?

AV: What do recent events, for instance the confirmation of the Attorney General Michael Mukasey, contribute to the discussion of torture?

Dorfman: Not as much as they should—it is shameful that an Attorney General is not ready to say if waterboarding is torture and even more shameful that the Senate should have confirmed him and that there was not more of an outcry. Where is the moral outrage of a country which is presents itself as a beacon of human rights to the world?

AV: How would you characterize changes in the American consciousness since 9/11?

Dorfman: This is not a question which should be answered with sound bites, and I have written extensively about this, primarily in my book of provocations, Other Septembers, Many Americas. If I had to summarize my views (and I really don’t like summaries of any sort), I would say that the United States has been gripped by a fear far surpassing the threat against it and most of its citizens have allowed their country to be hijacked. At the same time, there is an outpouring of protest and a “surge” of decency in so many Americans, that I am hopeful.

AV: In view of your history, how do you explain your enduring optimism?

Dorfman: It is in view of my history that I am optimistic. To be sad or bitter or despondent would be to give dictators (real and wannabe dictators) a real victory. But hope must be struggled for, sought after, grown, matured, worked at. It should never come easily, should never be the result of closing your eyes, but opening them more and more, so light can come in.

AV: Do you hope to accomplish anything specific through your visit with readers in Buffalo, New York?

Dorfman: Writing is a lonely task—even though the author is always in contact with the vast voice and ears of others. So once in a while it is wondrous to be in touch with those who read me, complete my work, listen, critique. There is always something to learn and something to give and one doesn’t often have a whole city being asked to read one’s books. So: I intend to warm my heart a bit and perhaps manage to connect with some special men and women.