What do you think?
Rate this book


259 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2018
And while the city beat time all around me like a vast heart, I told myself the beginning of a story: Once upon a time there were two runaways in a jungle—neon tigers all around, so beautiful, every sharp tooth another TV screen, fluorescent tongues, grapes for the plucking, fat bunches of grapes for the bold, a night without darkness, a fall without end. [from "Maria of the Grapes"]
And, what’s more, I know what Dante once knew: Hell consists of many rings. The outer rings are things like the Subway, Times Square, Brokers’ Fees. The inner ones are things like Taxes, Grant Applications, Performance Art. Once you get past those, there is only one ring left, the innermost ring of Hell. And that ring is not this basement. That ring is what happens after this basement. That ring is the space of deceit and guilt that will be created the moment Camilo stops waving his arms. That ring is the thing that lies just ahead.
If I’d had the words, I would have said that it wasn’t about missing another place, so much as no longer being able to extricate myself from this one. How your shape changes, here. How the language changes and the silence changes too, there’s so much more of it, and if both the words and the space around them are different, then after some time, you become different too. And after enough time has passed, you can’t remember a way back to your old life—and if you did, if you somehow did make it back, you wouldn’t even fit there anymore.