By Javier Marías, Margaret Jull Costa
A guy marries a lady and after the honeymoon she commits suicide. hence, he marries her sister and has a son. the radical, which gained the Spanish Critics' Award, recounts the son's efforts to find the reality of that mysterious tragedy. by means of the writer of All Souls.
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Extra info for A heart so white
There was still something nebulous about her large, dark eyes. If she’d had a temperature before, it had gone down now. “I’ve no idea, since it wasn’t me she was shouting at but the other man she’d mistaken me for. ” While I was taking care of Luisa (though without paying much attention, because I was tending to her and doing various other things at the same time and going to and fro between the room and the bathroom), I’d heard the tapping of high heels reach the door along from ours and heard how it opened without her knocking and then, apart from a slight creaking (only briefly) and the gentle thud as it closed again (very slowly), there was nothing but an indistinguishable murmur, whispered words that I couldn’t make out despite their being spoken in my own language and despite the fact that, according to the noise I’d heard shortly before, their balcony doors were ajar and I still hadn’t closed ours.
That one person was in bed, ill, behind me, watched over by her husband. Nevertheless, after a few moments of this looking without seeing, I did pick out one particular person. I picked her out because, during all that time, unlike the others, she hadn’t moved or shifted or disappeared from my field of vision, but had stayed on the same spot. She was a woman who, from a distance, looked about thirty and was wearing a yellow blouse with a scoop neck, a white skirt and white high-heeled shoes, and she carried a large black handbag over one arm, like the handbags women in Madrid used to carry when I was a child, big handbags carried over the arm, not over the shoulder the way they carry them now.
But I didn’t dare go over to her and stroke her hair to calm her down properly and help her back to sleep, as I would have done under normal circumstances, because what I didn’t dare do at that moment was abandon my post on the balcony, or even take my eyes off that woman who was convinced she had an arrangement to meet me, or to shrink any longer from the abrupt dialogue being demanded of me from the street. It was a shame we spoke the same language and that I understood her, because what was not as yet a dialogue was becoming increasingly violent, perhaps precisely because it wasn’t a dialogue.
A heart so white by Javier Marías, Margaret Jull Costa