The first book that legendary Peruvian poet César Vallejo ever published was his bachelor’s thesis: Romanticism in Castilian Poetry. Defended at the University de la Libertad on September 22, 1915, the 23-year-old’s opera prima received a high marks, according to the September 24th edition of La Reforma newspaper.

As novelist and poet Giaconda Belli recently observed, Nicaraguan journalism has lost an “irreplaceable” member of its profession, a figure who brought commitment, courage, and the highest standards of integrity to his vocation.

Juan José Campanella was twenty-four years old when he first saw Herb Gardner’s play I’m Not Rappaport on Broadway. After repeating the experience twice, he decided to adapt it for the screen, given that he regarded it as a play whose idiosyncrasies would resonate with an Argentine audience, perhaps even more powerfully than with an

Alborada, or Dawn, a new feature film directed by cineaste Paula Heredia, recently premiered at the Suchitoto International Film Festival in the filmmaker’s native country of El Salvador.

According to Mexico’s first nationwide survey on digital media and reading habits, five out of ten of the country’s young people prefer reading traditional print media, while only three out of ten use the internet to read books.

In spite of the fact that he is not as well-known as he deserved to be, Colombian historian Jaime Jaramillo Uribe stands out as one of the key figures in his nation’s intellectual history.

Fernando de Szyszlo and Mario Vargas Llosa are united by the artistic vocation they hold in common as well as by the strong bonds of a lasting friendship.

A new exhibit entitled “Duelo,” featuring the work of the Mexican artist and activist Francisco Toledo, is on display at the Museum of Modern Art in Mexico City. A meditative exploration of the violence that has been plaguing his country in recent years, the exhibit includes over a hundred artworks made in cast ceramic and

“I was in a shopping center last Monday when a stranger threw himself to his death from an upper floor. It all happened in an instant: I heard a woman screaming, I saw people running desperately toward me. I approached the tumult where several curious people were impatiently observing the intense labor of medical personnel

Arturo Menéndez’s new feature film La malacrianza (Rudeness) began life in October of 2008 when the director was approached by a stranger looking to tell him his story.