The Topic is Tango

Each of the meticulous researchers Vincente Rossi, Carlos Vega and Carlos Muzzio Sáenz Peña explains the origins of tango differently. I hereby agree not only with all their findings, but with each and every other finding as well. According to the regularly propagated cinema version, tango was born in the suburbs, in the tenements (usually in the Riachuelo delta zone because this quarter is so photogenic for the cinema) and was at first rejected by the patriciate. Not to be outdone by Paris, however, it opened its doors around 1910 to an interesting bunch of suburbians. Although this fairy tale of the "pauper prince" has been dubbed unquestionably true in the meantime, none of my memories (I just turned fifty) back it up by any means. Nor do any of the inquiries I have made.

I have discussed this matter with José Saborido, the author of Filicia and La morocha, with Ernesto Poncio, who wrote Don Juan, with the brothers of Vicente Greco, the author of La viruta and La tablada, with Nicolas Paredes, one-time Caudillo in Palermo, and with a Gaucho singer friend of his. I simply let them talk, and took good care not to ask any questions presuming any particular answers. When they were asked about the origins of tango, they gave widely varying replies both with regard to topography and geography: Saborido (who comes from Uruguay) relocated the cradle of tango in Montevideo; Poncio (born in the Retiro quarter) voted for his own part of Buenos Aires; the south city dwellers laid claim to the Calle Chile; and those from the north were certain that tango first emerged among the prostitutes in Calle del Templo or Calle Junín.

Despite all these different versions – which could doubtless be extended by asking people from La Plata or Rosario – my advisors all agree on one important point: tango started in the brothels. (And they also agree when: not much before 1880 or after 1890). This is confirmed by the cost of the musical instruments first used: piano, flute, violin, and later bandoneon. Accordingly, tango could not have originated in the outer suburbs because there they made do with six guitar strings. And there is plenty of other evidence as well: the lascivious dance figures, the clearly suggestive titles in many cases (El choclo [the corn cob], El fierrazo [the fire poker]), plus what I observed first as a child in Palermo and some years later in La Chacarita and Boedo: men dancing together at the street corners because their women refused to take part in anything so slatternly. Evaristo Cariego described this very well in his "Heretic Masses":

Out on the streets, the good people pour out
Their friendliest obscenities,
When to the tango rhythm La morocha
Appear two orilleros with lithe and lissom cortes.

Elsewhere Carriego describes with an excess of oppressive details a wretchedly poor wedding feast where two roisterers have to quieten down the bridegroom, whose brother is in jail. But despite all the suspicion and mistrust, rancour and mean jokes:

The bride's uncle, who thinks
he'd better make sure the dancing
stays clean, insists, almost offended,
that cortes are not even allowed as a joke...
"Modesty aside, they'd better
not try that... we'll see indeed.
We are poor, admittedly:
but whatever you do, do it with decency."

This brusque and severe man, whom we can picture clearly from the two verses, illustrated very well the people's first reaction to tango – as a "brothel snake" in Leopoldo Lugones' laconic words. After being found less offensive and thus more socially acceptable in Paris, it took many years for tango to penetrate the tenements in the northern part of the city – and for all I know it may not have succeeded even now. Formerly, tango was orgiastic devilry, and now it is a way of walking.

[Jorge Luis Borges, quoted from the text collection Kabbala and Tango, Fischer Taschenbuchverlag 1991]