A train that revisits the history  |
| MC Escher, drawing hands (1948) |
The author of the novel El Mexican Lector último,
David Toscana, is published for the second time in Zulma and found not without rejoicing behind the French translation a
François-Michel Durazzo inhabited by the creativity (it had spontaneously
granted an interview to Tavern in November 2009 ). By embedding
for a train that was to take me in Tula, I did not know the ins and outs of my journey, especially as I had refused to go voluntarily to the information available about it. El último
Lector me at the time literally engulfed in the maze of the mind of the reader, so much so that some days I could not see the world around me that as the ratio of the literary world around me.
Undeniably, David Toscana is an author who likes to multiply the points of view, create different interpretations, to mislead the reader that this ad Finum enjoy the pleasure of being enormously confused. Indeed, the disorientation is part of a process which generates prolific home of delightful sensations, as if the rhythm of disillusionment, with the connivance accented characters, allowed to be part of the story. Author infinitely precious, that ranks in the category of authors can improve the rank of the player at the height of the person who creates the work, and hurry into the depth of its gaping abyss set.
"With a little experience, I realized that in business, this is not the truth that research, but satisfactory answers, the kind of answers that do bother anyone. "
After all, history, what it? From the start of this process that ultimately never stop completely, the story will continue to consider this existential question of man's relationship to history, to highlight the links close-knit players, spectators, narrators and readers of it. The path of each other, according to their whims, interests, obligations, omissions or disappearances, inevitably leads to confuse the essential authenticity of the story.
"All day she said, I am no longer the same, that we're no longer say things before, and she insists on this front as someone who speaks of prehistory. Before Jesus Christ. For me there is only post-Carmen. prehistory means "précarmen" and belongs to Patricia "précarmen. It is a memory which unfortunately occupies a physical in my bed, a memory I use that sometimes. "
To begin, a warning tells us that the story will be told we from a set of testimony from a man who disappeared after a flood that has engulfed hundreds of bodies.
Thus, through Patricia resurrecting the past of her husband in the role of the biographer, is a mythical figure who reappears Juan Capistrano. Meanwhile, Mexico's past is taking shape, which retroactively back to life. The sacred status of history, symbolized by its immutability, is debunked by the ardent desire of that child cursed from birth to want to be rehabilitated, to find a second life after death.
Love brought to this girl, this angel fell from heaven embodies the energizing breath train narrative of the work.
However, if the past fluctuated over the will and interests of each, there remains a latent hope to imagine a predominant memory in which the realization of his own dream would be forever fixed in time.
mission to find this lost CARMEN is transmitted to the biographer, during a handover of control of a footprint fervor that gives the moment a disturbing religiosity.
"He looked up and pushed his chair to me. The eyes misted with tears, he leaned over, bending completely bust, in a posture that seemed to be his way of kneeling, and said in a drawling voice:
-Do ensure that things go differently. "
Quest initiated by the old man still lives on and the power of three, from one character to another, Juan Froylán then Froylán Patricia, and finally, the reader Patricia.
Plus the train this train is moving in the direction of Tula and its present, more referrals lends itself to the defeat of the storyline. The opportunity to open doors enclosing stories that confront each other, without that we can actually understand what spirit since, from what place precisely these narratives emerge.
Imperceptibly, paths branch off before crashing in the juxtaposition of assumptions absolutely enjoyable.
Thus, on the death of maternal grandfather Juan, some doubt significant:
"And so one night he had drunk, he fell, possibly be asleep, his horse trotted very far from the road. He was found several days later on an anthill, already almost a skeleton, and we never knew if he died from his fall or biting red ants. "
As for the disappearance of his grandmother after a fall just as fatal, can remain puzzled about specific circumstances, although opinions converge on one point.
"Then there are two versions of events: the driver was told that the wheels had struck a rock and that, under the effect of the shock, she fell from the car like a sack of corn. Amalia assured that the accident was caused by a transient sleepiness of the driver, who had jolted the car before the wheel not going back on the poor woman. However, she was in complete agreement with the fact she was dropped like a sack. "
Later, the meetings on Wednesday between Juan and Carmen to follow a routine, which he does not deserve to be told, and there is then a newspaper with a succession of brief evocations derisively suggesting that most of the facts constituting our lives are not worth the detour:
(Another Wednesday)
"Do-see ye not that I'm in love with you?
-course since the first day.
-So what hell do you play?
forget Alfredo-A.
And when that happens there?
-Sometimes, I think very soon, sometimes you're going to need a lot of patience.
An Ash Wednesday:
-Have you heard?
-Like a cry. I'll see.
No, lets go see Concha.
After a moment
"It is a little old woman who fell from his cart. She looks into a thousand pieces. "
 |
| Escher, Hand with Reflecting Sphere (1935) |
This regeneration is part narrative canvas bottom of the story through the graffiti Piñez, which are renewed on the wall of the city, like the pages of a book in the making. The story dealt with as a collective memory seems to fade in favor of the virtue of these exhilarating stories ephemeral and profane. So to speak, seems to personify this facade the appearance of legendary history, and the city of Tula, the Toltec capital suddenly disappeared there almost a thousand years after a devastating fire. Originally from the end of Tula, whether the fire or water, no matter after all, as the gaps of memory will be filled by the imagination of those who tell, and the credulity of those who listen to these stories in the plural.
Like Toltec city, the very identity of the protagonists immersed in the shadow of an unfathomable mystery, because of falsifications, pseudonyms and pedigrees composed of uncertain parentage.
Like a chess game to restore the truth, we could, here or there, replace a particular part of this exciting puzzle without all that it finds so far denatured.
I closed the pages of this book travels through time, places and emotions, and I pursue my dream to race Tula, from a shore memory to another.
Regardless of the destination from the moment of the trip back, we get the thrill of vitality.
Source: Be Superpop 
Source : Jorge 
Source: Jorge Shares 
Source: Yvancho of MadonnaChile 
