• Divertimento: Un cuento de hadas (español / a Fairy Tale - english) • Doña Espuelas (español / english)
• History for Ambassadors or Butterflies and Other Chingaderas • Tuesday's Tertulia
Divertimento: Un cuento de hadas
Para Robert Irwin
De desus ot un mireor
iluec poent tres bien veor
quant l’an les vendra aseor
ou fust par mer ou fust par terre
bien veoit an el mireor
qui ert asis desus la tor
lor enemis vers aus venir
donc se pouvoient bien garnir
aparoillier aus a deffandre
n’erent legier pas a sorprendre.
- J.J. Salverda de Grave,
Eneas, roman du XIIe siècle,
adaptation normande de Virgile
En los tiempos de conflicto, en un lugar llamado Abundancia, vive un soberano que de noche se pasea por su palacio preocupado por sus vecinos del sur. Cuando por fin se acuesta, es sólo para dar vueltas en la cama y en la mañana sus ojeras revelan a sus consejeros que no ha podido conciliar el sueño. Tras meses de insomnio y con su túnica colgándole como agua de río de los hombros, no puede ya atender sus asuntos de estado y es indiferente a los más simples placeres. Por fin, una mañana de invierno decide preguntarle al Gran Brujo quien, después de escuchar sus premoniciones, decide consultar al Espíritu del Espejo. Tres días más tarde dice: Read More
Divertimento: a Fairy Tale
For Robert Irwin
De desus ot un mireor
iluec poent tres bien veor
quant l’an les vendra aseor
ou fust par mer ou fust par terre
bien veoit an el mireor
qui ert asis desus la tor
lor enemis vers aus venir
donc se pouvoient bien garnir
aparoillier aus a deffandre
n’erent legier pas a sorprendre.
- J.J. Salverda de Grave,
Eneas, roman du XIIe siècle,
adaptation normande de Virgile
Once upon a time, in the old days of conflict, in a place called Abundance, there lived a nervous ruler who wished his kingdom protected from invasions. He wandered around the palace at night worrying about his neighbors to the South. When he went to bed at dawn, he tossed and he turned, and in the morning the rings under his eyes told his advisors that, once more, their sovereign had not slept. After many moons of insomnia and with his robes hanging loosely on his bony frame, he found himself unable to focus on matters of state, was even indifferent to the pleasure of ordinary things. One morning he consulted the Grand Wizard who listened to his ominous dreams about the southern wind and left the royal chambers saying he needed to consult his divinatory mirror. Three days later he returned and announced: Read More
Doña Espuelas
Para Kameron Dawson y Torin Kuehnle y para Jorge Santiago-Avilés, quien me habló de este dicho puertorriqueño hace muchos años.
"Sus espuelas son tan grandes, pero tan grandes, que se puede colgar una hamaca de ellas."
Obviamente preocupada, Doña Beatriz frunció el entrecejo mientras observaba a su nieta insistir por tercera vez esa tarde que su hermano tenía que cumplirle su último capricho. Carlos quería entrar a estudiar pero Carmen, con voz de sargento, le ordenó, Empújame, te dije que me empujaras. Le diré a Mami si no lo haces. Carlos, que ya lo había estado haciendo durante una eternidad, se mordió el labio inferior y continuó empujando el columpio.
Después de la cena, Doña Beatriz se sentó al lado de su nieta en el columpio de la veranda y dijo, Mijita, déjame contarte la historia de una niña que conocí cuando yo tenía tu edad. Carmen se arrellanó en el columpio, pues sabía que el cuento de Abuela sería largo y divertido. Read More
Doña Espuelas
For Kameron Dawson and Torin Kuehnle and for Jorge Santiago-Avilés, who told me about this Puerto Rican saying many years ago.
"Her spurs are so big, but so big, that you can hang a hammock from them.
Doña Beatriz frowned as she watched her granddaughter insist for the third time that afternoon that her brother give in to another of her demands. Carlos wanted to go in to do his homework, but, using her best sergeant’s voice, Carmen ordered, Push me. I told you to push me. I’ll tell Mami if you don’t. Carlos, who had been pushing her forever, bit his lower lip and continued pushing the swing.
After dinner, Doña Beatriz sat on the porch swing next to her granddaughter and said, Mi amor, let me tell you a story about a girl I knew when I was your age. Carmen got herself comfortable next to her grandmother, for she knew that Abuela’s story would be long and interesting. Read More
Prologue
Mahler composed to free the sway of dark feelings. Picasso painted to rid himself of an indigestion of green. Neruda’s creatures were born of a long rejection. Kafka wrote to exile the bugs; Vargas-Llosa, to exorcise the demons; Cortázar, to neutralize the nightmares. Exorcism... catharsis... the removal of alimañas, of vermin. If to write is to be an exterminator, then I will hunt, expose, and deflate alimañas. Get rid of that little pain whether in the chicken coop, in the pit of the stomach or on the behind.
On Amtrak, aided by the romantic spell trains have always held over me, by the motion, or by the three hours to myself, the boil finally burst and overflowed. I had no paper, but the urge to write was as uncontrollable as wretching. A brochure. “For Ages 50 to 74.
Tuesday's Tertulia
For Fernando Arrojo-Ramos
Beware the Ides of March —William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar
They had heard of each other; some had even exchanged a few words at different events around town, but when they met the third Tuesday in March at the Antonio Machado Book Store for the presentation of Federico's book, they realized they were all suffering from the same malaise, the same malestar—the proverbial writer's loneliness. Alejandro, a city bureaucrat whose job was to write reviews of the others' work, suggested they meet once a week for lunch, literary discussions, and exchange of ideas and information.
Mario, a South American who was in charge of a foundation
dedicated to the promotion of local color, was excited by the idea. He told them he was a narrator and had published some non-fiction pieces in his country. The others had a feeling that he was not a serious writer, but they accepted him because they knew his wife's family and because of the growing influence of his foundation. Benjamín said Tuesdays were the only days he could leave the Instituto early enough to make it for lunch. As the youngest, he had not known the others during their university days, but he was the only one whose poetry had been anthologized, and they were
anxious to have him in the group. They agreed to meet on Tuesdays. Tomás said, "We will call it La tertulia del martes," Tuesday's Tertulia.1 Read More
History for Ambassadors or
Butterflies and Other Chingaderas
For Domingo Luiggi
Behind every semicolon they scent danger. They fear the silence between stanzas. In East as well as West they are certain that when in an intricate context windfall fruit is mentioned (quite incidentally), it’s a dig at them... But we writers are indestructible. Rats and blowflies who gnaw at consensus and shit on the newly laundered tablecloth.
-- Günter Grass, Headbirths or The Germans Are Dying Out