In between reading and thinking, cleaning and restoring the house, and trying new recipes out on friends who accept the dare, I am reading the work of yesteryears—the pages upon pages that were never published. What went wrong? What must I not do again as I ponder the possibility of new stories?
Sometimes I find passages, written as fiction, that return me to real life. Here is a boy and the paragraph I wrote for him inside a novel I never published. The place is San Miguel.
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Nothing was neutral in San Miguel. The place was full of opinions—the murmur of fountains behind padlocked doors, the inscription of grills high on windows, the casual flamboyance of the mariachi men, the coruscation, in the distance, of abandoned mining towns. The lintels above the ornate doors were carved with news of vanished families, rose spires pierced the sky, the smoke of the helotes carts was weather, and every day a boy wearing a yellow cabled sweater and shiny shoes carried a moose puppet across the cobbles of the town.
“Where do you think he’s going?"
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think he wants?”
“Air.”
The failure here? The static quality of the dialogue. Too much like a poem, which is not how real people speak.
Ruta Rimas sent me a copy of Barbara Kingsolver's The Lacuna for Christmas, and it's been sitting over there, on the chair of unread books, ever since—gold and heavy-weighted.
This morning I rose to a desk full of work, glanced at the book chair and said to myself, "Well, who is going to notice, really, if you spend an hour of this morning reading?"
So that's all I've done—spent an hour reading The Lacuna—and may I just say that if nothing else wonderful happens in this story (and I doubt that will be the case), the first 28 pages contain Kingsolver's best writing ever, anywhere, as far as I can tell. This book takes place in Mexico, a country I've visited just twice (Juarez first, San Miguel de Allende, where I took this photo, second). I can now say that I've gone to Mexico thrice.
Read this:
Salome put on the new frock, painted a bow on her mouth, took her son by the arm and walked to town. They smelled the zocalo first: roasted vanilla beans, coconut milk candies, boiled coffee. The square was packed with couples walking entwined, their arms snaking around one another like the vines that strangle tree trunks. The girls wore striped wool skirts, lace blouses, and their narrow-waisted boyfriends. The mood of the fiesta was enclosed in a perfect square: four long lines of electric bulbs strung from posts at the corners, fencing out a bright piece of night just above everyone's heads.
I've been there. I've seen that.
Bright hue and sky. The strange pot hanging sideways, which is the sign. The virgin bird on the broken wall, and the quick flick of the camera's eye.
Take it home. Remember.
Wow. That is beautifully written. I've been there too, spent a summer or two in Mexico City. And yes, it is exactly like that.
Wow! beautiful. I am almost ashamed to say that I've never read Kingsolver. Always meant to...
I'm a big Kingsolver fan, so I'm really excited about this book.
So great to hear these positive comments on The Lacuna. I am looking forward to this one a lot.
Thanks for sharing this - I have been hearing mixed reviews on this latest by Kingsolver and I have the novel on my bedside table waiting to be read (I'm currently reading Byatt's amazing novel The Children's Book). I'm now looking forward to having The Lacuna be my next read :)
I lost my heart in San Miguel de Allende. I have traveled by car all over Mexico for the past 12 years. Always thinking where would I like to live. When I came to San Miguel de Allende it was only to be for a week, but we couldn't bear to leave. We found a place to rent and packed everything from our house near Colima and moved, lock, stock and barrel to San Miguel de Allende. I have read all of Barbara Kingsolver's books. I can't wait to read this one.
Kelly Garcia
www.whatshotinsanmiguel.com
I'm waiting for Lacuna. I have it on hold at the library.
I agree that the opening of Lacuna was stunningly beautiful. Browsing through those pages was what made me buy the book. Sadly the rest of The Lacuna, when the POV switched to a journal, was a disappointment, especially the USA section. It doesn’t sound like a teenaged boy’s voice at all, and the plot was all over the place. The biographer notes sounded contrived. I gave up reading past halfway through when I read a review which said that the final section was the weakest part. I read and loved all of Kingsolver’s other novels and she’s one of my favorite authors so The Lacuna was a big disappointment.
I’ll be curious to hear your reaction once you’ve finished. I sold The Lacuna at our independent bookstore and bought a YA I think you’d love: The Indigo Notebook by Laura Resau. I’ve only read a few chapters, but they were wonderful.
That is really beautiful. I feel like I'm there too. Great imagery. I'm excited to get this book.