A Pestilence of Virgins
1973; University of Iowa; Volume: 4; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
10.17077/0021-065x.1476
ISSN2330-0361
Autores Tópico(s)Asian Culture and Media Studies
ResumoWhat do you know from cold? It was forty below in Korea! In 1933 the streets were ice and the pawn shops were closed. Please don't fight. Eat. Mother lays the plates out on the table. Father chews, his senses slip down deep and blind into his guts. Tender? he asks through the meat ravished in his mouth. Good, I answer. he says dreamily, Good? It's delicious! The food is in my mouth, no? He's telling me the taste in my mouth! Stalin was a murderer, I remind him. I'm a very emotional person, he reminds me. Please don't make me ex cited. I don't like to get physical. But he stands, legs wide apart, the table above his head. The feast is about to come down around my ears. Abe .. . mother says softly, Abe .. . And the table is lowered to the floor, not even the wine spills, but he is shivering. Pity the centaur, pity Abe, a pestilence of virgins sepulchered both their days. My mother, like Minerva, who was wombed in the head of Zeus (a virginal goddess of reason), lifts the centaur's head by his live recalcitrant hair, up, up, beyond his bestial lower parts, confounding his blood by the broader scope of his sight. Father's furtive eyes avoid looking at her. Mishugge, nut.. . Esther ... he says plaintively. You can't talk like a human being? I leave and he whines after me, Six million of us they killed, and you're going to marry one of them. not the gestapo. She's Puerto Rican, I answer, as my feet carry me down to the street.
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