Rose was quiet for a change and not as resentful as usual. That was my mother's main expression: slightly resentful, a whiff of resentment, not personally against me (though there was that, of course) but a vague sense of grievance against the world.
Julieta told me that when she was a child she used to have a cocker spaniel but spaniels get dognapped in this part of Spain. The neighbours had seen a Toyota truck pull up in the early hours and her dog disappeared. Her mother had been an engineer. She had designed an inland pipe system to transport water from rivers in the more fertile parts of Andalusia to the desert. She had died in a helicopter crash on the Sierra Nevada and her father had to identify her body in the hospital in Granada. It was the second disappearance in Julieta's life and sometimes she got mixed up in her dreams so it was her mother who was stolen in the Toyota truck.
It was hard to accept that the first man in my life would do things that were to my disadvantage if they were to his advantage. Yet it was a revelation that somehow set me free.
Margret Mead: I used to say to my classes that the ways to get insight are: to study infants; to study animals; to study primitive people; to be psychoanalyzed; to have a religious conversion and get over it; to have a psychotic episode and get over it.
If its theme is memory, Juan wonders where will I begin and where I will end. While he takes the tiny silver of glass out of the skin above my eyebrow, I confess that I am often lost in all the dimensions of time, that the past sometimes feels nearer than the present and I often fear the future has already happened.
沒有留言:
張貼留言