Left: Seated, the writer Beatrice Bugané, her sister and myself, talking. |
Presentation of Beatrice Bugané’s The
Cottage and its Lady
by Milagros Terán. Casa
Thomas Jefferson, Lago Sul, Brasilia. April 3, 2014
Very few times in these literary events one has the pleasure of presenting someone we know. Most of the
time you talk about the work, and you hardly know the person. So tonight it is
really my privilege to talk a little bit about the Opera Prima of a 17 year old girl, The Cottage and its Lady.
A work of fiction of 136 pages that takes place in North America, I would
assume, since the story is set in the summer month of August, and it is written
in English.
I was taken aback by the fact that this
very first writer´s work is centered on and old woman. Beatrice didn´t choose
to center the story in her own world, among teenagers and school, which is the
norm for a writer this young because, you know, the first rule of a true
writer, especially for your first work, is to write about what you know, but in
this case we have a young woman writing about old age (although these days, 72
is hardly a time for decrepitude. We would hope that this will arrive after our
80’s if not later.)
This fact is what kept me going after
the first six pages: I was curious to know how she was going to develop this
story. At the very beginning she uses the verb To Deduce, and she aptly deduces
what it is like to be old, and what it is like to have all of the time for
one´s self at that age. The confidence to express feelings through the use of
an internal monologue is what made me realize that this is a girl who is an
avid reader, who knows her subject matter and develops it with a flow so
natural and free, that -my friends- this takes confidence and courage. Through
the story we learn of this old lady, her daily life and thoughts. But then,
finally, on page 86 she gives us clues to this boldness, when she says:
“it reminds me vaguely of my fascination
with a squirrel I once saw swiftly running along a tree trunk. I do not
remember where I have seen it. Perhaps I never did, and I read it in a book
instead”.
We get to know many things about the book, but we
don´t know the name of the lady, we only know that she lives alone in a pale yellow cottage, with a nice porch,
surrounded by sunflowers. We know that she has a very strict routine, something
like the beloved children´s character Poppleton,
who had library days, grocery shopping days, friends’ visits days, etc. We also
know that the heroin in the story sometimes deliberately chooses not to see,
and she manages just that by not putting her reading glasses on.
Another thing that blew me away is her ability for
description. Five times in the story she mentions a very special painting. It
is a painting that hangs in her living room. Page 25. Listen to this:
I still am not sure what it was meant to depict, in the eyes of its
artist, but I have created a story for it myself. The painting is white and
black, but I imagine the ocean that is its background to be clear as day and
pure as boiled water. There is a man in the painting, but I cannot see his
features, as only his back has been revealed to the viewer. His upper body is
lined with chiseled muscle, but his arms are outstretched above his head. He
wears shorts that I imagine to be soaked. The surface of his skin glitters
beneath the sun. Resting upon the back of his neck, balanced between the nooks
of both arms, is a swordfish. It is large and magnificent and dangerous and
captured. I cannot see the man´s features, but I imagine them to be reflecting
little more than triumph.
The painting always reminds me of one of my favorite readings, the Old Man and the Sea. It is one of
the select few I am still able to remember well enough to claim as one of my
most liked. But if I were given the opportunity to hang a more accurate
illustration of this particular grand work of Hemingway upon my wall instead, I
would not take it. It would depict a great story that has only grown on me over
the years, but it would not be quite the same. The painting that I see now on
the wall may be less accurate, but I believe it to hold truth. A stronger
truth, if truths can be compared.
The story has a carefully knitted plot, suspense,
and a punch line, it also covers a long internal monologue, that reminds me of
the coming of age story of the Nicaraguan writer Rosario Aguilar, who at the
age of 22, newlywed, published her very first novel about a girl who was a
patient in a mental facility. A very bold subject matter too, very defiant, and
scary, just like Beatrice´s. Rosario became a very successful and well known
novelist, and has been translated to many languages. So as we celebrate this
self-published novella, I really hope that she follows Rosario´s same road, and
becomes a great novelist for us to cherish her work, but also to honor
herself, her great country and her family.
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