by James Canon
At that very moment, all the high mountains disappeared before Rosalba’s eyes. The vast stretches of trees and wild vegetation, the untouched mountainsides and valleys, all vanished, as if by magic. Only an open, clear horizon stood between Newer Mariquita and the rest of the world. Rosalba gazed intently at the fantastic sight, experiencing its extraordinary simplicity and expansiveness. She was aware that it was just a vision, that the actual transformation wasn’t in the distant view but in herself and how she now saw the world. The universe had given her new eyes, and she had used them to discover new philosophies of life, work and independence, new landscapes of harmony and order, wherever she looked. She now understood that Newer Mariquita would be not only an extension of land over the small valley but also an extension of the community’s philosophies, their female concept of time and their strong senses of justice and freedom, and that it would signal the beginning of a communalistic system of government that would eventually extend itself across the mountainous geography of the country, throughout its flat-topped hills, its plains and jungles and deserts and peninsulas, until the end of time.
Rosalba was wiping the tears from her eyes when the group caught up with her. They, too, had heard Ángel’s shouts and now were running to meet him, giving cheers for the new boy and his parents, for the two Mariquitas, for life. Rosalba took Eloísa’s hand in hers, and together they followed slowly the group down the slope toward Newer Mariquita, feeling fulfilled.
Their race had been granted a second opportunity on earth.
Acknowledgments
A FIRST AND VERY special thanks must go to Hillary Jordan, a true friend and colleague, who read this when it was but a short story in broken English; who helped me improve that story and write several more, and helped me all throughout the process of giving those stories the shape of the present book, never wavering, not even when I did. Hill: your invaluable advice and enthusiasm, your immeasurable faith and love have been absolutely vital to the writing of this novel and to my own sanity. This book is yours, mine, ours.
Special thanks to the following people:
To Maureen Howard, for her wisdom and guidance, and for asking me the same question over and over until I finally got it. Magda Bogin, for her good judgment and suggestions, and for lending me her charming house in Tepoztlán where I wrote a chapter of this novel. Binnie Kirshenbaum, David Plante, Victoria Redel, Alan Ziegler and the faculty of the Columbia University Writing Division, for embracing my work with passion.
To friends and artistic soulmates who read this book, or parts of it, in various stages, and contributed their valuable observations: Allison Amend, Raul Correa, Elizabeth Harris-Behling, Antonia Logue, Michele Morano, Amy Sickels and Scott Snyder.
For their enthusiasm and trust, and for seeing what others couldn’t, I am especially indebted to two extraordinary women: my agent, Lisa Bankoff; and my editor, Claire Wachtel. I must add here that a great part of the pleasure of working with them has been the amazing help provided by their super assistants: Tina Wexler at ICM; and Lauretta Charlton at HarperCollins.
For their grants and fellowships, I would like to thank the Henfield Foundation, the National Hispanic Foundation for the Arts, the Rolex Mentor & Protégé Arts Initiative, the Columbia University Writing Division, the MacDowell Colony, the Corporation of Yaddo, Blue Mountain Center, Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts, Millay Colony and the Hall Farm Center for Arts and Education.
For their moral support and friendship, thanks to Bogdan Apetri, Alejandro Aragón, Neilson Barnard, Patricia Cepeda, Kathryn and Gary DiMauro, Beth Dodd, Miguel Falquéz-Certain, René Jiménez, Jaime Manrique, Melissa Moran and the staff at Hell’s Kitchen Restaurant, Claudia and Alfredo Sanclemente, Sue Torres, and Rob Williams.
My love and deepest gratitude to my mother and my grandmother for giving me the inspiration to write this book; to my brothers, Oscar, Hernán, Pepe and Carlos, and my sister, Margarita, and to my entire family for their love and belief in me.
Finally, for enduring my insane writing process with so much grace, for your infinite faith, love and understanding, and for creating a wonderful life for me outside my tales, mil y mil gracias a ti, José, with all my love.
About the Author
JAMES CAÑÓN was born and raised in Colombia. He moved to New York to study English and later earned his MFA in Creative Writing from Columbia University. Cañón was awarded the 2001 Henfield Prize for Excellence in Fiction. He lives in New York.
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Credits
Jacket design by Will Staehle
Jacket photographs: Leaves © Chris Strong/Getty Images;
woman’s head © Lesley Aggar/Trevillion Images
Copyright
TALES FROM THE TOWN OF WIDOWS. Copyright © 2007 by James Cañón. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © DECEMBER 2006 ISBN: 9780061865565
Art by José Manuel Villanueva López
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cañón, James.
Tales from the town of widows / James Cañón—1st ed.
p. cm
ISBN-10: 0-06-114038-4
ISBN: 978-0-06-114038-9
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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