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280 pages, Paperback
First published February 13, 1992
Recounting an event distorts it, recounting facts distorts and twists and almost negates them, everything that one recounts, however true, becomes unreal and approximate, the truth doesn't depend on things actually existing or happening, but on their remaining hidden or unknown or untold鈥�
An instigation is nothing but words, translatable, ownerless words that are passed from voice to voice and from language to language and from century to century, always the same, provoking people again and again to the same act for as long as there have been people and languages and ears in the world to hear them.For days together, I oscillated between Juan and his many roles. Seamlessly switching between a faithful spouse and a steadfast friend, a tentative son and a diligent interpreter, Juan appeared serene on surface. But his ears were in rebellion. He simply could not give up listening. And in this hallucinatory air, his auditory brilliance spilled open many floodgates that bore 鈥榥o entry鈥� boards on themselves.
Berta was fascinated by the unknown, nobody can resist participating in an experiment and returning with news, even when they don't know what the experiment's about.惭补谤铆补蝉鈥� experimental writing runs amok, picking filial relationship, poking domestic fabric, stress-testing old friendship and disrobing secrets and then, masterfully, synthesizing all into an incredible structure of many sharp edges 鈥� much like a diamond. A diamond, so sparkling on surface, coal black at its heart.
My hands are of your color; but I shameWilliam Shakespeare, Macbeth
To wear a heart so white.
I have a tendency to want to understand everything people say and everything I hear, both at work and outside, even at a distance, even if it鈥檚 one of the innumerable languages I don鈥檛 know, even if it鈥檚 in an indistinguishable murmur or imperceptible whisper, even if it would be better that I didn鈥檛 understand and what鈥檚 said is not intended for my ears or is said precisely so I won鈥檛 understand it.
Listening is the most dangerous thing of all..listening means knowing, finding out, knowing everything there is to know, ears don鈥檛 have lids that can close against the words uttered, they can鈥檛 hide from what they sense they鈥檙e about to hear, it鈥檚 always too late..it may well stain our hearts so white or are our hearts merely pale, or fearful or cowardly?