Antwerp by Roberto Bolaño Read Free Book Online Page B

moon." Someone applauded from the void. I said I guessed this was happiness.

46. THE DANCE
    On the terrace of the bar only three girls are dancing. Two are thin and have long hair. The other is fat, with shorter hair, and she's retarded ... The guy being chased by Colan Yar vanished like a mosquito in winter ... Though really, I guess in the winter all that's left are the mosquito eggs ... Three happy, hardworking girls ... August 7, 1980 ... The guy opened the door to his room, turned on the light ... There was an expression of horror on his face ... He turned out the light ... Don't be afraid, though the only stories I have to tell you are sad, don't be afraid ...

47. THERE ARE NO RULES
    Big mistakes. Nameless girl returning to the scene of the deserted campground. Deserted bar, deserted reception area, deserted plots. This is your Wild West ghost town. She said: in the end they'll destroy us all. (Even the pretty girls?) I laughed at her despondence. Doubly afraid of himself because he couldn't help falling in love once a year at least. Then a succession of portapotties, cheap reprints, kids puking, while a retarded girl dances on the silent terrace. All writing on the edge hides a white mask. That's all. There's always a fucking mask. The rest: poor Bolaño writing at a pit stop. "Police cars with their radios on: useless information raining down on them from all the neighborhoods they pass through." "Anonymous letters, subtle threats, the real wait." "My dear, now I live in a tourist town, the people are tan, it's sunny every day, etc." There are no rules. ("Tell that stupid Arnold Bennet that all his rules about plot only apply to novels that are copies of other novels.") And so on and so on. I, too, am fleeing Colan Yar. I've worked with retarded people, at a campground, picking pineapples, harvesting crops, unloading ships. Everything drove me toward this place, this vacant lot where nothing remains to be said ... "At least you're with beautiful girls"... "I'd say the only beautiful thing here is the language" ... "I mean it in the most literal way"... (Applause.)

48. LA PAVA ROADSIDE BAR OF CASTELLDEFELS
    (Everyone's Eaten More Than One Dish or One Dish Costing More Than zoo Pesetas, Except for Me!)
    Dear Lisa, once I talked to you on the phone for more than an hour without realizing that you had hung up. I was at a public phone on Calle Bucareli, at the Reloj Chino corner. Now I'm in a bar on the Catalan coast, my throat hurts, and I'm close to broke. The Italian girl said she was going back to Milan to work, even if it made her sick. I don't know whether she was quoting Pavese or she really didn't feel like going back. I think I'll go to the campground nurse for some antibiotics. The scene breaks up geometrically. We see a deserted beach at eight o'clock, tall orange clouds; in the distance a group of five people walk away from the observer in Indian file. The wind lifts a curtain of sand and covers them.

49. ANTWERP
    In Antwerp a man was killed when his car was run over by a truck full of pigs. Lots of the pigs died too when the truck overturned, others had to be put out of their misery by the side of the road, and others took off as fast as they could ... "That's right, honey, he's dead, the pigs ran right over him"... "At night, on the dark highways of Belgium or Catalonia" ... "We talked for hours in a bar on Las Ramblas, it was summer and she talked as if she hadn't talked for a long time" ... "When she was done, she felt my face like a blind woman"... "The pigs squealed" ... "She said I want to be alone and even though I was drunk I understood"... "I don't know, it's something like the full moon, girls who are really like flies, though that's not what I mean"... "Pigs howling in the middle of the highway, wounded or rushing away from the smashedup truck" ... "Every word is useless, every sentence, every phone conversation" ... "She said she wanted to be alone" ... I wanted to be alone too. In Antwerp or