Ricardo Blanco's Blog

Wildfire

We leave the village for a day and the place nearly burns down. Within hours of our departure I receive a text from a friend saying there is a bush fire encircling the village and everyone has been… Read More

An Aleph in my hand

Drove up to the Gers, in France, to visit the brother. It is a four-hour drive in our old Citroën, which starts rattling if required to exceed about 75 mph. It is hot, and the car has no… Read More

The Wind

    There is a wind here called the Tramuntana, which swirls down from the Pyrenees. There is no end to the wind, though there is a discernible beginning to it, that is, there have been days before… Read More

The Black Lake of Antonio Machado

  El ojo que ves no es ojo porqué tú le veas  es ojo porqué te ve.   The eye you see is not an eye because you see it but because it sees you.   This morning,… Read More

Rant

  The Rant is in three parts: Firstly: in Spain, the reporting of the riots in England has uniformly emphasised the racial nature of the disturbances. I am not in a position to comment objectively, having only read… Read More

Coetzee’s Foe

  ‘When I was young there were degrees of certainty’: these words I quoted the other day from Anne Carson evoke a sense of certainty instilled by the repetition of known stories. In childhood, if the world makes… Read More

Translation

  All your stories are about yourself, she said, even when they seem to be about other people. I was not going to deny this, nor give her the pleasure of being right. So I quoted Proust, who said that… Read More

The Glass Essay

This morning, with the first light, I read Anne Carson’s long poem The Glass Essay, 38 pages and not a word wasted. Now every line feels engraved in my consciousness. What a rare occurrence this is. I sit… Read More

Walter Benjamin at Portbou

Yesterday an excursion to Portbou and a picnic on a nearby beach to celebrate the birthday of our dear friend Juliette. As usual our large and straggling international party effectively turned a section of the beach into an… Read More

Naked Man with Pit-Bull

Imagine my surprise yesterday, when visiting one of our favourite beaches with friends (where I intended doing a little underwater fish-gazing with mask and snorkel) I spied a naked man washing his pit-bull in the shallows. Bending over… Read More

Elephants in the Alberas

  Other than an early family holiday and a single trip to Barcelona in my early twenties, my first real taste of Catalunya was in 1984. Penniless and without purpose, I was walking down the coastal road from… Read More

The Foreigner

  The Foreigner   – What country is this foreigner from? – I don’t know. – What’s his name? – I don’t know. – What does he do? What language does he speak? – I don’t know. –… Read More