PS: just to give myself a gut check...this is not an accurate analogy. the toughness you had to have to fight for your Creation was nothing like Camus, He started on top; you had to fight from the bottom of the colonial heap. Respect. We shouldn't be too quick to say we "get it" when someone writes.
Such a wonderful post, Junot! Amazing how sharing your Creation story brings me to the deepest and most moments of my own life, the days when with my back on the tiles of my grandmother’s old house, I would read Snowhite
over and over, delighted with beauty of words like her hair, black as ebony” lips, red as…. “
The problem reading your posts, Junot, is that I wish so much I could write a meaningful response, to give you something back, but I am just left without words and I can only tap a mere „like“.
Catching up on your Substacks, Junot! This story is so inspiring and beautiful. I picture ese muchachito tan lindo pushing that shopping cart for TWO miles in the dead of the summer heat! Jesus! Es verdad que la necesidad es madre del ingenio! Genius! My love of reading comes from the fairy tales my French grandmother used to tell me as she tucked me into bed every night before my family and I moved to the DR. Then, the children's books in French I devoured in the DR became my best friends when I was seven to ten years old. A few years later, I found this treasure: we moved to a new home where the previous tenants had abandoned a huge box full of books in English--an extraordinary rarity back then. And my love of reading went from French to English, bypassing Spanish until someone finally introduced me to Neruda and García Marquez. Thank you for the inspiration. I hope to write my Creation story one day too. Xo
What an evocative story! You know what you should do, since you're in your holiday doldrums anyway, track down the boy, the original collector of those books. If you could remember the address of the grandma in Madison Park, it would be fairly easy, what with the internet and all, to find at least a name (public records, school records, military records). And when you find him, send him a thank you note and let him know what those books of his meant to you. They were a gift, by the way.
oh believe me i tried but after 20 years (which was when i tried) the memory was gone and no one on the doors i knocked knew what in the world i was talking about.
Thanks for that heart piece, bro
Inspiring
Reminds me of:
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”
Albert Camus
PS: just to give myself a gut check...this is not an accurate analogy. the toughness you had to have to fight for your Creation was nothing like Camus, He started on top; you had to fight from the bottom of the colonial heap. Respect. We shouldn't be too quick to say we "get it" when someone writes.
Such a wonderful post, Junot! Amazing how sharing your Creation story brings me to the deepest and most moments of my own life, the days when with my back on the tiles of my grandmother’s old house, I would read Snowhite
over and over, delighted with beauty of words like her hair, black as ebony” lips, red as…. “
Thank you!
Beautiful man. Thank you for sharing!
“To which a small invincible part of me says, Never.”
Jesus. Thank you. I needed that.
The problem reading your posts, Junot, is that I wish so much I could write a meaningful response, to give you something back, but I am just left without words and I can only tap a mere „like“.
really too kind, thank you for even reading this zoe
I don’t know if this is inspiring or so much more beautiful than I could ever hope to write that it makes me want to quit.
what's beautiful is when it comes true from within us. the rest ... is not up to us...
Beautiful.
Thank you for sharing Junot. This is extremely helpful. Your substack came in clutch in the 4th, best investment of the year.
paul, glad its helping anyway. much ilght
Catching up on your Substacks, Junot! This story is so inspiring and beautiful. I picture ese muchachito tan lindo pushing that shopping cart for TWO miles in the dead of the summer heat! Jesus! Es verdad que la necesidad es madre del ingenio! Genius! My love of reading comes from the fairy tales my French grandmother used to tell me as she tucked me into bed every night before my family and I moved to the DR. Then, the children's books in French I devoured in the DR became my best friends when I was seven to ten years old. A few years later, I found this treasure: we moved to a new home where the previous tenants had abandoned a huge box full of books in English--an extraordinary rarity back then. And my love of reading went from French to English, bypassing Spanish until someone finally introduced me to Neruda and García Marquez. Thank you for the inspiration. I hope to write my Creation story one day too. Xo
What an evocative story! You know what you should do, since you're in your holiday doldrums anyway, track down the boy, the original collector of those books. If you could remember the address of the grandma in Madison Park, it would be fairly easy, what with the internet and all, to find at least a name (public records, school records, military records). And when you find him, send him a thank you note and let him know what those books of his meant to you. They were a gift, by the way.
oh believe me i tried but after 20 years (which was when i tried) the memory was gone and no one on the doors i knocked knew what in the world i was talking about.
very strange challenging book. took me a few reads before it really hit.