What do you think?
Rate this book


214 pages, Paperback
First published August 18, 1987
If you are forced to live in a nightmare, you survive by realizing that you can re-imagine it, that some day you can return to reality.
"Even now, six years after the generals loosened their hold on Argentina, after their manicured hands were pried away from the delicate white throats of the disappeareds and the doors of certain buildings were closed and locked, even now Carlos Rueda's gift retains its mystery. If, in Buenos Aires, the supernatural were woven into the daily lives of people, it is in the Amazon where natives believe numinous spirits invade the birds and beasts, his accomplishments would be easier to discuss. But we have long been hostile to the things of the spirit, less amenable to them than the rocky stretches of Tierra del Fuego are to a sense of security. Our city is like a sophisticated dowager whose soul feeds on cynicism, a place where the mere mention of the unknown and unknowable occasions peals of bitter laughter. And yet it was here that night after night Carlos Rueda entered the darkness where our people disappeared, spinning words around ghosts and specters until sometimes the people only he could see stepped forth from his imagination into the astonished arms of loved ones. It is all as quick and close as memory, and I want to open memory now, part the curtains upon the fearful, hopeful faces of those who came to the garden of Carlos' house in Calle Cordova because they had nowhere else to go."
"And so, with the memory of that green car before me, of the deaths of Pepe and Marianna, of Angela restored to her grandparents, it is time to take a stand about Carlos Rueda, about his stories and their impossible powers. Something beyond our understanding took place which I must bear witness to, something so remarkable that I wonder even now what it means to our conception of reality, for the indisputable fact is that in the darkness of our Latin Night and Fog Carlos Rueda found babies, men, women, even whole families. Is it any wonder, then, that I call his gift a mystery?"