Richard, Caravana de recuerdos
Mantra by Rodrigo Fresán
To my knowledge, I was the only doomster to review something for the 2020 Argentinean Literature of Doom this month but no worries since we have 11 months left for the rest of you to catch up to the furious pace of that start of mine. Still, here's a related ALoD tidbit to beef up the lone link above. In Pepe Fernández's June 29, 2003 "El país de Juan Rodolfo Wilcock" ["Juan Rodolfo Wilcock's Country"], which I hope to return to later in the Doom calendar year, there's a series of great anecdotes having to do with Argentine turned Italian Borges and Silvina Ocampo and Pier Paolo Pasolini pal/writer and actor and translator J.R. Wilcock. Would you like to hear the one about the talking cat? Wilcock, who was meeting with Gigi Proietti at Wilcock's home in Italy to discuss a translation of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, "exponía sus ideas con una voz calma" ["was calmly expounding his ideas"] according to memoirist Vittorio Gassman "cuando un gato cruzó la habitación diciendo claramente: 'Me voy porque ustedes me aburren'" ["when a cat crossed the room clearly saying, 'I'm leaving because you two are boring me'"]. "El escritor continuó hablando imperturbablemente. Al cabo de un instante, Gigi no pudo más y preguntó, estupefacto: 'Pero... acabo de ver pasar un gato, ¿no? 'Sí, sí, es mi gato.' 'Me imaginaba pero, ¿habla?' Y Wilcock, secamente: 'Sí, pero no siempre. Así que como decíamos, Fausto...'" ["The writer continued speaking as if nothing had happened. After a moment, Gigi couldn't take it any more and, stunned, asked, 'But...did I just see a cat pass by?' 'Yes, yes, that's my cat.' 'I thought so, but he talks?' Wilcock, drily: 'Yes, but not all the time. So as we were saying, Faust...'"].