🦋 Peter, dropping names
(This post is a continuation of the earlier Peter's Voice thread -- I am trying among other  things to make my reading of La universidad desconocida be Peter's reading, trying to get in his head and read through his eyes and hope to fully realize his character. Hope that anybody's going to be interested in reading about this guy and the books he is reading and translating; but of course this hope has always been intrinsic to the READIN project...)
 Walking down Partition Street in the light summer rain and watching the lightning across the river past Rhinebeck. A really impressive storm but it's far enough off, the air's not moving here. You have to strain to make out the thunder. Nice -- I'm glad to fantasize the soundtrack and just watch the show, glad to get a little wet, glad to get home and inside and dry off. Laura's a little spacey tonight. Dale and them had a gig down at Tierney's, we smoked some grass on the way over there and she really got into it --the intoxication goes very nicely with Megan's chops on the washboard, with Dale singing "Rag Mama Rag," it must be said... a lovely time but all too short as they only had a half-hour set. The other acts? Nothing really that interesting, so here we are back home and Laura's prowling catlike by the bookcase. I'm smiling and asking her what she's reading. -- Eh, nothing's really grabbed my attention much since Snow. I grin, and flash on the "Love and Happiness" scene and Al Green singing, and feel the little twinge of uncertainty that's always present around Pamuk, like I'm not really getting it or am getting the wrong thing. (And hm, I should really mention that song to Dale...) -- Want to check out some poetry I've been working on? I found these pretty intense old Chilean poems over at Calixto's blog... and don't mention, or perhaps it goes without saying in this context, these poems from Ãvala seem to me like good trip material -- but I've mentioned Chile, and Laura would rather listen to Bolaño. Nice --I open The Unknown University at random and hit on "El dinero"; and it seems to me like this is the perfect poem for today, being as I am in receipt of a check from the Reality Fusion job, feeling confident about our rent for the next few months, even about a shopping trip over to Amazon... Still not much headway on the literary translation thing. But I remain hopeful; how could I not be, with Laura snuggled against me here on the couch as I read to her.
posted evening of Friday, August third, 2012
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➳ More posts about Snow
➳ More posts about Orhan Pamuk
➳ More posts about Identification
Durante los años me parece que Universidad desconocida se ha convertido en el estandar que utilizo para juzgar todas mis lecturas poéticas. Decir que algún libro me ofrece tan mucho como la Ud significo mucho. (comment posted on Calixto's blog)
posted morning of August 4th, 2012 by peter conlay
esperando mi fin del mundo particular
quedo callado y
canto
posted evening of August 4th, 2012 by maximiliano josner ávala
Flora is singing silently and mourning now for my son, it is a week since they buried him.
Pardon me: my perception of duration and of sequence of events is growing vaguer now, more remote as I lose my connection with the things and structures of my life. It may have been a year or some centuries now since they buried him; still I can feel most strongly the presence of my daughter-in-law, her sadness, her pain. Perhaps more strongly than I can feel the absence of my son.
posted evening of August 4th, 2012 by pablo lorenzo ávala
posted evening of August 4th, 2012 by Jeremy
My perception of duration and of sequence of events is growing weaker dislocation fading slowly into timelessness displacement and sense-memory of objects I've displaced, dispersed, I rubbed against, the floors I walked on, now they do my thinking for me
posted afternoon of August 5th, 2012 by pablo lorenzo ávala
La niña roja que es sueño
sombra mala,
vergüenza
gritaba dámelo
y mi oreja anónima
le escucha
todavÃa
posted evening of August 5th, 2012 by maximiliano josner ávala
Querida hermana, querido fantasma, querida presencia afuera del tiempo: me duele que has vuelto
posted evening of August 11th, 2012 by maximiliano josner ávala
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