Tuesday morning around 10:30
“I only mention it as proof that even the most transient and trivial of infatuations lack any real cause, and that’s even truer of feelings that go far deeper, infinitely deeper than that. ‘ “ d-v 265
“and all feelings are idiotic as soon as you describe or explain or simply give a voice to them,” 266
by page 268 (of 346) I wonder if María will kill Diego--have him killed?
“He knew exactly how I felt, the loved one always does, if he’s in his right mind and isn’t himself in love, because in that case he won’t be able to tell and will misinterpret the signs.” 269
“ ‘It’s a novel, and once you’ve finished a novel, what happened in it is of little importance and soon forgotten.’ Perhaps he thought the same applied to real events, to events in our own lives. That’s probably true for the person experiencing them, but not for other people. Everything becomes a story and ends up drifting about in the same sphere, and then it’s hard to differentiate between what really happened and what is pure invention. Everything becomes a narrative and sounds fictitious even if it’s true. And so he went on as if I had said nothing.” (283)
“We do tend to believe things while we’re hearing or reading them. Afterwards, it’s another matter, when the book is closed and the voice stops speaking.” 292
The novel finishes up in ways very different from what I thought. So my imagination was way too American about the whole thing.
Brilliant, though. As soon as I finished it I slipped it into the mailer, walked a block from the cafe to the post office and sent it off to Phil in Washington, DC.
"Once you've finished a novel," says Díaz Varela to Dolz, "what happened in it is of little importance and soon forgotten. What matters are the possibilities and ideas that the novel's imaginary plot communicates to us and infuses us with, a plot that we recall far more vividly than real events and to which we pay far more attention.”
Dropping the book into the mail felt like I was getting rid of a virus or an infection. It was such a relief. I was glad I had managed to finish reading it in the time I had today with time to get it into the mail. I was glad I enjoyed it so much even though what I had expected to be the final turns of plot or revelation did not happen. But then as I drove over to the town where I was to pick Virginia up from her appointment, I realized that indeed the story had possibilities I had not yet considered and the pleasure was all the greater. Diaz-Varela may have set into motion the events that killed Miguel but are we not sure now, as Maria herself seems not at all to be, that it is Louisa who had delegated the task to Varela. Maria has been blinded by her infatuation with Varela. She does not see as clearly as she thinks she does. Louisa matches the woman in the Three Musketeers story, the woman hanged by Athos, Anne de Breuil, later called Milady de Winter.
Why would it not work with genders reversed? Louisa > Louis is married to Miguel > Michelle. Louis and Michelle have breakfast every morning at the same cafe on Newbury Street. Mark Dolzet, who works in publishing, also goes there every morning.
Why even speculate in this way? Is it homage or envy or both? The book is wonderful and powerful. Reviewer for the Guardian or Observer says it is Marías’ best. Hmm. Maybe. Always skeptical of that sort of claim by reviewers.
Wednesday 11:17 in Concord at the Subaru dealer for an oil change. Diving in to the Createspace site to continue work on the book. Still rehashing Marías and thinking about whether to really undertake a re-write. Can always start the book at once and write the book about writing the book. Vanity publishing thy name is Jubilation!