One of my favorite stories is Shipping, Juan García Ponce. I read a few years ago, when I was in college, and from the beginning I liked it, but I could not understand but months later, when I hit one way, say, horrible. Then I read it again, by accident, one evening before going to the cafe where he worked. That day I wrote this piece to reflect that recovery:
realized then that what really bothered me was not fatal outcome, but the impermanence of time together. How it all came down to an unfinished story. How could go ahead without suffering tragedy: the scars heal, overcome injuries and find relief. Knowing that in a few months, in a few years, and would not remember anything of what happened. Do not cry for the memories, they were few and of no great importance.
important thing is that the prediction was fulfilled, and four months later and I had forgotten the subject, who also had mastitis and sang out of tune. However, the impression Shipping left me forever.
There's something very nice to know people you do not make final, and yet his memory remains. I like love stories very big, but I prefer small: relations to end at some point, almost trivial, it nevertheless kept something, an essence, a plea. They return from time to time and make you think of the pointless details that are joining to form a story in which you exist with another person during a certain time.
recently I also thought this need to give meaning to everything. We go through life having sex, falling in love and out of love of people, then forget it and move on. But sometimes, or at least there are people who do work, you just can not: we get some of this accumulation of situations and put an adjective, or a symbol something that prevents it from becoming dry and stop mean. We have to turn it into something else, something literary if you want to finally let go.
"Sometimes you wake up thinking," begins Juan Garcia Ponce, and how powerful his words lies in the character of something before I no longer struggle, something that has already been let go. No counter-memory, or live through it, accept it exists. I seduced much thought it was a more or less true story, which was narrated García Ponce himself, above all, memories of a young woman who probably never loved. Not so heartbreaking and life at least, but that languor with accepting things everyday. The story, seen from a certain angle, it is shameless, a young writer becomes entangled with an older woman, rich, now in his third marriage. The secret and the charm of their relationship is to remember many years later, for any reason, when awake.
I like it because it also summarizes several things that I think, for phrases like "no one is entirely clear from his past" and "one likes people right away or do not like ever." In short, I like it because it is a flawed story and very honest, because the protagonist, unlike most of the fiction of Garcia Ponce, where women are rather evocations idealized what he meant by perfection, is very real, is real .
never found the internets version of the story, because I always wanted to show it to some people, so I decided to transcribe the whole. It was really beautiful revive while super-powerful drumming fast in my Wenceslao and laughed and touched me with the phrases of my John.
So as a "gift" for more sensitive readers (éjele) Noon Island, and if they have aroused curiosity, here is the full version of Shipping:
* Since my texts are serious may catch up with some seriousness. I will upload others soon.
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