The Wounded City
This City (I thought) is so horrific that its mere existence, the mere fact of its having endured, even in the middle of a secret desert, pollutes the past and the future and somehow compromises the stars. So long as it endures, no one in the world can ever be happy or courageous.
– Jorge Luis Borges, “The Immortal”
Caracas is one of those places about which men have differed widely and intensely: A paradisiacal valley, according to Oviedo y Baños. Don Alonso Escobar, canon of the Cathedral at the dawn of the 18th century: “O you Caracas! Generous object / of that Empire, whose sacred face / is venerated by more people than spheres the sun turns…” Someone else: “Promising seed of an eternal orchard.” And there are those who even today defend its aptitude: even though its current crime statistics – the highest in the world? – are too astonishing to be the product of an exemplary home.
The rest of Cantórbery Cuevas Tortolero’s The Wounded City is available at venepoetics.blogspot.com