The day Pablo Neruda pretended to be asleep to avoid being detained by the Carabineros

From virulent speeches against the government of Gabriel González Videla, to the highway. In 1948, the poet Pablo Neruda was forced into hiding when the Law for the Permanent Defense of Democracy (Law 8.987) was declared—also popularly known as the “Accursed Law”—which proscribed the Communist Party (PC). Neruda was precisely a proud militant of the PC and, in its representation, had been elected senator for the Provincial Grouping of Tarapacá and Antofagasta in 1945. By then, he was already a literary celebrity, thanks to the early success he achieved with his first books, such as *Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair* and *Residencia en la Tierra*. Therefore, he understood well that he was one of the important names for the government to capture. Thus began a frantic flight. “I changed houses almost daily—he recalls in his memoirs, *Confieso que he vivido* [I Confess I Have Lived]. Everywhere, a door would open to shelter me. It was always strangers who had somehow expressed their desire to take me in for several days. They asked me to stay as an asylum seeker, even if only for a few hours or weeks. I passed through fields, ports, cities, camps, as well as through the homes of peasants, engineers, lawyers, sailors, doctors, and miners.” Soon, it became clear to Neruda that he had to leave the country. At one point, the chance of smuggling him by ship toward Guayaquil was evaluated, but the poet soon understood that he had to attempt a riskier route. “I set off toward the far south of Chile, which is the far south of America, and prepared to cross the Andes,” he recalls in the same book. Thus, an operation was organized to take the bard out of the capital and bring him south to cross the mountains via Futrono, toward San Martín de Los Andes, in Argentina. “My friend Dr. Raúl Bulnes was then a physician for the mounted police—he recounts. He drove me in his invulnerable automobile to the outskirts of Santiago, where the party organization took me into their care. In another car, specially equipped for the long journey, an old party comrade, the driver Escobar, was waiting for me.” Neruda took precautions. He let his beard grow and prepared blankets to cover himself during some of the more critical segments of the journey. In this way, they managed to reach Temuco without incident, a place known to the poet, as he had lived there during his childhood. But risks could not be taken. Without further ado, they crossed the city and headed toward the rural area, passing through the then-small town of Padre Las Casas. Pablo Neramente. Since they had already traveled a good distance and had not been discovered, Neruda and his companions stopped for a moment to rest. “We halted far from the city, to eat something while sitting on a stone. A low stream passed through the slope, and its waters made a sound. It was my childhood bidding me farewell. I grew up in this city; my poetry was born between the hill and the river, took on the voice of the rain, and became imbued with the forests just like wood.” More refreshed, they continued. “We continued our journey. Only once did we have a minute of anxiety. Standing in the middle of the highway, a determined police officer signaled our car to stop. I was rendered speechless.” Surely everyone in that car broke into a cold sweat. If the uniformed police officer discovered Neruda, all the effort would vanish in seconds. A situation that seemed to become real when the officer approached and asked to get in. “The officer asked us to take him a hundred kilometers further. He sat next to the driver, comrade Escobar, and conversed kindly with him.” Quick as a line in a verse, Neruda opted for a peculiar solution. While comrade Escobar, at the wheel, entertained the officer, the bard chose to remain as inconspicuous as possible. “I pretended to be asleep so as not to speak. Even the stones of Chile knew my poet's voice.” NEWSLETTER Culto Wednesday, AM Series, books, music, and cinema that everyone is talking about. The pop guide to entering current conversations with style. By subscribing, you accept the Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policies of La Tercera.