Diario, April 30, 2012

NO RESPONDAS! escribió, con mayúsculas como para acentuar el imperativo y hacer que se cumpliera la orden?, el deseo?

Llueve mucho afuera. Ha estado lloviendo durante el fin de semana. El agua que cura y limpia. Y destruye. Y purifica. Llueve y el día está gris. De un gris pálido, si mucha fuerza.

The Human Stain: Coleman Silk, in his early thirties, walking down New York street ran into a former lover and have a brief what-are-you-doing-now talking. Weeks later, he received a letter from the ex-lover in which she is surprised by the light mood of Coleman; she is overwhelmed that he said nothing about their affair; but she is kind of grateful. Years later, Coleman goes over the reading of the letter. After years of a failed marriage and an almost failed-at-the-end professional career as a professor of Classics in a rural college, Coleman goes over the letter and read it to a younger collegue. Now Coleman Silk is having an affair with a thirty-four years old cleaning lady. This lover fixes the description of the former lover he ran into in New York streets years before. Are there parallelisms in both lovers and the irrenunciable seeking for true love?

Recuerdo ahora, no se por qué (claro que sí sé por qué) a Kundera y sus reflexiones sobe el amante lírico.

Diario, April 29, 2012

Ayer en la mañana tomé algunas notas, que leo ahora, tarde en la noche. Ahí van con sentido joyceano.


Libro dentro de libro. Away with the lyricism. Literatura e-pistolar. Barroco, dijo él, claro aludiendo al claroscuro (alliteration). Cada vez que escribo las siglas EHB, pienso, ineluctablemente, en RIP en español. Los suicidas siempre han concitado mi atención y respeto. Solo he conocido a uno, Carlos Victoria. No tuve relación con él, salvo que compartimos momentos de jolgorio. El ya no bebía, yo sigo bebiendo. Algo en común. No soy un suicida –no tengo el ars.

Diario – April 27, 2012

There is always light at the end of the tunnel –yesterday was almost at the end of the day. There was news. The sound of the silence. No further reading on The Human Stain. But I was graciously rewarded with a longtime desired book; La poesía complete de Raúl Hérnandez Novás, poeta y suicida and an anthology of the Santiago Alvarez’s short documentaries of the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Vive la nostalgie!

Diario / April 26, 2012

No se nada. There is silence, a strong, pure silence. Some reading on "The Human Stain".