me share with you excerpts from an email I wrote to a friend while he was in Washington in April 2008, speaking of books and general impressions:
"From my reading here, I think I had told you I was reading" Inglés, August "by Upamanyu Chatterjee, I loved it I was fascinated by their descriptions of contemporary India, on little passion of our globalized generation of young people on how amazing the souls of the humble Maple ... my dear, if I have learned from books and travel, is that the beauty of a place is not in their sights and streets, which are impressive but boring unchanged-but in the hearts of the people that inhabit them, and in this sense will always find more beauty in places with poor people. Beauty is poor, my child.
Well, I still have readings. After finishing this book I was convinced that at some point I go to India ... 've ever read "Come My Beloved" by Pearl S. Buck? It is the fastest way to understand the charm of India, besides being the fastest way to fall in love with their culture. One of the most beautiful books I've read. Once finished in August I went to find a new book that I welcome the solitude of this land and went to buy "Londonstani" that as he prayed in his lapel was a story of new-generation Pakistanis living in London and thought it would be interesting to see the thing from the opposite point of view ... but it was a bad idea. Never before had so hated a book! I was filled with anger and disgust and I felt robbed (so that had cost $ 3 and nothing else) ... and even now when I think of him, I just want to burn in a fire (hopefully with the author in!). I bought and started reading "Brave New World" (Brave New World) by Aldous Huxley, which is much better, but after reading a while I thought it was not the time to read it. Stories about harshness of modernity in the world and the abysmal labyrinth of solitude in industrialized societies is best read in a hammock with a rum and 23 degrees, locked in a meter to 30 meters below ground, with people cooler than outdoor temperature of -15 degrees.
I now devote my time reading (which have been reduced substantially by that work, do laundry, make market, think about whether to eat pasta with tuna or tuna pasta ) to read a wonderful treasure. It's called "Balthasar's Odyssey by Amin Maalouf. It is the story of the journey through East and the Mediterranean Genovese makes a seller of books in the year 1665, looking for answers because everything indicates that next year will be the Year of the Beast, the year of the Apocalypse. It's amazing! Maalouf has two great qualities (among others) are: 1. The ability to write so that no one comes to doubt his veracity, even if rationally you know it's fiction, and 2. Immense knowledge of history and culture. It is he to whom I dedicate my evenings, these evenings are slowly warming up and improving the minds of these gringos, so as naïve simpletons.
Look I found a strange relationship that reminded me of "Perfume." This city does not smell. Nothing smells, at least in winter. I think therein lies its lack of essence, energy, movement, beauty. Now that I've seen as spring arrives, I can say with more certainty. With the fresh smell of flowers and plants people start out of his slumber and begins to walk the streets ... no longer stuck in underground caverns and released to walk the sidewalks, surprised to meet other beings like themselves who are at that stage of awakening, in which we have difficulty opening his eyes, but the senses and seem to want to work. It is very interesting.
Well, since I'm telling you some of the impressions I had while here on the universe and us, their tenants (and since it appears that this mail will disproportionately growing), I share with you a little anxiety that is populating my nights for a couple of days. At this point in my life I must say I do not feel at all the weight of the world on my shoulders, which is an advantage and a privilege, but so are other concerns, such as feeling that I have the world hands and do not know what to do with it! I think we have a huge responsibility not only for having a privileged upbringing and great abilities, but by being aware of it, being aware of the problems of mankind and because we feel as our own many of these problems seem so alien ... I worry about not measuring up (or avoid the size) compared to what we do for the world. Have you thought about what your responsibilities? Fortuna I do not think we have put on these pedestals just beautiful to behold and be covered. I think rather than focus efforts and energies on a few, that are to be assigned to multiply their work to the rest of the cosmos, are people animals, the earth, the stars ... whatever, but we can not keep quiet, lethargic, useless. "
