Ricardo Blanco's Blog

I kill out of rage

    Since posting María Rivera’s ‘The Dead’ on Wednesday, over 500 people have checked in, and María herself emailed to thank me for posting her poem. ‘The Dead’ evoked some powerful responses from readers. Echoing the views of… Read More

Storms, eggs, everyday corruption, and the Consul’s approaching end

  The airport in Saltillo closes because of the fog, so I miss my lunchtime flight back to Mexico City. Julián is laid low by a mystery bug and Mónica offers to drive me to the airport, after… Read More

The Zapatistas’ breakfast

Last night, in the city of Puebla – the setting for the first battle of the the 1910 Revolution – I stopped off at a street corner kiosk and recognised, among the picture postcards, a famous image that… Read More

In Xalapa

Leaving behind the poets of the monstrous metropolis that is Mexico City, Blanco catches a bus and crosses the wide plain strewn with cacti upon which perch enormous dark birds. Did he actually see them, those birds? It… Read More

Of Frida Kahlo, Diego (and Dylan)

  I have always been slightly worried by Frida Kahlo, perhaps it taps into some source of generalised male guilt, not for things that I have done myself – at least not intentionally, but that might be the… Read More

Masks and Death

  When travelling, how do we begin to learn when someone is wearing a mask, with intent to deceive, given that we all wear masks much of the time? We all know, as Hamlet says, that ‘one may… Read More