I thought long and hard about writing this letter. I see that people here, at this site, where my letter will hopefully reside, are using this privilege of interacting with their favorite books largely for comic purposes, or to settle scores. I have a different motive. I wanted to try to connect on a deeper level. That sounds so foolish it almost makes me want to abandon my letter entirely. I don't know if people know you. You are a man in a mystery, maybe a victim, maybe a perpetrator. I can't say too much more without ruining it for others. I can say, though, that you face a moment where you are told that you will do something terrible, and you have to grapple with fate, or what you believe fate is. That experience resonated so deeply with me that when I first grasped your circumstance, a chill went through me "from crown to ground." I am quoting someone else we both know. I don't have anything funny to say to you. No dismissive quips. I just wanted to let you know that you reached a place in me that terrified me, and does still, and I thank you and damn you for it.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza | Southwesterly Wind | 1994