spent the latter part of the course in Salamanca. Arrived by train one morning in the hope of staying a while. I had never been here before spring and the city full of life. The Plaza Mayor seems to be constantly renewed.
The early days are still fresh. A persistent morning drizzle of clean leaves in the morning. Then comes the heat, dry as in Castile.
take this opportunity to reconnect with my friend Jimmy, who lives happily in this city for some years, working day and reading (and living) night. Among coffee with ice and beer in the afternoon session we review some of our myths: talk about Silvio, Delibes, of Sabina, the fantastic novel by Yann Martel, of Monty Python, Leonard Cohen, the Panero (of course), bars, nights, the passing of time, of life. In his library with his fingers caress the lyrics of the signatures of Neruda, Cortázar and Sabato on "Canto general", "Hopscotch" and "The writer and his ghosts."
Whenever I meet with him I learn something. He tells me of Nacho Vegas and Iván Ferreiro, who did not take long to incorporate into my favorites list, and under his tutelage I read Kurt Vonnegut and a novel originalísma: "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", the Indian writer Vikas Swarup. I also recommend "Maus" the great Art Spiegelman's graphic novel, the series "Paracuellos" by Carlos Giménez and comics by Joe Sacco on Palestine and the Balkans. I try to be of some use and spoke to Martin Amis, Cees Nooteboom and Tibor Fischer.
In recent months I have spent time in cities that barely know anyone. I have plenty of time to walk and read, so far as I can apply for public library card which houses the Casa de las Conchas. Happened there several afternoons a fresh crisp the aisles and shelves full. As a concession nostalgic read comics and Mortimer by Edgar P. Blake Jacobs did not read as a child. Then I seemed the height of sophistication, now might be to cheesy (but still enjoy reading: maybe there's a certain naivete that should not be lost).
time leaks away quickly and the summer sun was eventually installed in the perpendicular of the city. Fifty days after arriving, full of new readings, I get on another train that crosses a Castile which still has some green.
The early days are still fresh. A persistent morning drizzle of clean leaves in the morning. Then comes the heat, dry as in Castile.
take this opportunity to reconnect with my friend Jimmy, who lives happily in this city for some years, working day and reading (and living) night. Among coffee with ice and beer in the afternoon session we review some of our myths: talk about Silvio, Delibes, of Sabina, the fantastic novel by Yann Martel, of Monty Python, Leonard Cohen, the Panero (of course), bars, nights, the passing of time, of life. In his library with his fingers caress the lyrics of the signatures of Neruda, Cortázar and Sabato on "Canto general", "Hopscotch" and "The writer and his ghosts."
Whenever I meet with him I learn something. He tells me of Nacho Vegas and Iván Ferreiro, who did not take long to incorporate into my favorites list, and under his tutelage I read Kurt Vonnegut and a novel originalísma: "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", the Indian writer Vikas Swarup. I also recommend "Maus" the great Art Spiegelman's graphic novel, the series "Paracuellos" by Carlos Giménez and comics by Joe Sacco on Palestine and the Balkans. I try to be of some use and spoke to Martin Amis, Cees Nooteboom and Tibor Fischer.
In recent months I have spent time in cities that barely know anyone. I have plenty of time to walk and read, so far as I can apply for public library card which houses the Casa de las Conchas. Happened there several afternoons a fresh crisp the aisles and shelves full. As a concession nostalgic read comics and Mortimer by Edgar P. Blake Jacobs did not read as a child. Then I seemed the height of sophistication, now might be to cheesy (but still enjoy reading: maybe there's a certain naivete that should not be lost).
time leaks away quickly and the summer sun was eventually installed in the perpendicular of the city. Fifty days after arriving, full of new readings, I get on another train that crosses a Castile which still has some green.
0 comments:
Post a Comment