I've just been to Recoletta Cemetery in Buenos Aires, and I found myself meditating for half an hour in front of one tomb, with others drawn there too. The picture here doesn't do the statue justice, and when I was there she was holding fresh flowers, but I hope you understand what I felt: it suddenly struck me that all the other mauseleums were built by the rich, the powerful, styled to express permanence, unending dynasticism, continuity from classical times to Christendom and all the way over the sea to the new world.
But Liliana's grave is different. It is in the neo-gothic style, not at all classical or ancient, in some ways it is not even respectable, and it is, paradoxically, an enduring monument to impermanence. I think that's why more people were standing here than by any other tomb, and for many minutes, as we shared the unspoken.
The others, the dead, ask us to remember a woman, a man, a person of flesh and blood who once lived, and I do not condemn their requests as there is value in this, in remembering; but Liliana has become something else, an icon, both more and less than a statue of herself; she counsels us not to cling to what is passed.
To bring home her point she holds in her wraith's hand bright fresh flowers which will fade and be replaced each day. There is a pain in them, in the colours of life, an almost inherent pain. Liliana asks us not to become attached to passing life, whether it be ours or another's; her father's poem explains the price of doing so, illustrates the truth that after our deaths there can be neither more nor less love in the world.
Liliana asks us not to remember but to forget.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tomb_of_Li ... de_Szaszak