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Название книги: The Savage Detectives
Автор(ы): Roberto Bolaño
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Savage-Detectives-194374.html
Roberto BolañoThe Savage Detectives
Translated From The Spanish by Natasha Wimmer
For Carolina López and Lautaro Bolaño,who have the good fortune to look alike"Do you want Mexico to be saved? Do you want Christ to be our king?""No."– Malcolm Lowry
IMEXICANS LOST IN MEXICO
(1975)NOVEMBER 2I've been cordially invited to join the visceral realists. I accepted, of course. There was no initiation ceremony. It was better that way.NOVEMBER 3I'm not really sure what visceral realism is. I'm seventeen years old, my name is Juan García Madero, and I'm in my first semester of law school. I wanted to study literature, not law, but my uncle insisted, and in the end I gave in. I'm an orphan, and someday I'll be a lawyer. That's what I told my aunt and uncle, and then I shut myself in my room and cried all night. Or anyway for a long time. Then, as if it were settled, I started class in the law school's hallowed halls, but a month later I registered for Julio César Álamo's poetry workshop in the literat
Название книги: The Savage Detectives
Автор(ы): Roberto Bolaño
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Savage-Detectives-194374.html
Roberto BolañoThe Savage Detectives
Translated From The Spanish by Natasha Wimmer
For Carolina López and Lautaro Bolaño,who have the good fortune to look alike"Do you want Mexico to be saved? Do you want Christ to be our king?""No."– Malcolm Lowry
IMEXICANS LOST IN MEXICO
(1975)NOVEMBER 2I've been cordially invited to join the visceral realists. I accepted, of course. There was no initiation ceremony. It was better that way.NOVEMBER 3I'm not really sure what visceral realism is. I'm seventeen years old, my name is Juan García Madero, and I'm in my first semester of law school. I wanted to study literature, not law, but my uncle insisted, and in the end I gave in. I'm an orphan, and someday I'll be a lawyer. That's what I told my aunt and uncle, and then I shut myself in my room and cried all night. Or anyway for a long time. Then, as if it were settled, I started class in the law school's hallowed halls, but a month later I registered for Julio César Álamo's poetry workshop in the literat
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