ce ramine dupa ce traim o perioada de timp intr-un anumit loc? ramin amintiri doar pe jumatate amintite; restul il impopotonam dupa placul inimii si, de cele mai multe ori, fara sa ne dam seama. amintiri care ne revin in minte fara sa le chemam si fara sa le asteptam; si ne revin pe nesimtite in pragul singuratatii noastre cotidiene.
marți, 11 august 2015
I enjoyed reading the first two volumes of Esmeralda Santiago's memoirs. The second more than the first since she has so beautifully and stubbornly evolved from a Puerto Rican little girl to an American "almost a woman". Her life is spectacular and while reading the books I felt not once that it would have lacked this exquisiteness had she not lived in USA. For instance, I doubt that a young woman living in Romania can meet as many colourful and interesting people as appeared in Negi's life. Is it that trully colourful and interesting people do not live in Romania?!
However, among all the interesting people, food, family life, love, hardship, discrimination and intense feelings, the lines that I liked best are not in the books themselves but in the acknowledgements that end the second volume (which can be easily considered as part of the memoirs): "And finally, my husband, Frank Cantor, and our children, Lucas and Ila, have figured out when I need to be alone and when I need a hug. You make me sing (But don't worry, I won't do it in public.)"