Carlos Fuentes and the Debt that Cannot be Paid

Here, below these lines, is a page torn from the acknowledgments section of Tex[t]-Mex: Seductive Hallucinations of the "Mexican" in America--diverse, name-filled pages in which I valiantly strive to thank all of the amazing people (and, two scoundrels) who made my 16-year odyssey of authorship possible. First on the list of folks that crossed my path and traced my psyche at Cornell University, in freezer-like Ithaca, New York, is the guapo Mexican novelist, diplomat, and public intellectual, Carlos Fuentes:

Fuentes, one of the best living, internationally-acclaimed writers still WITHOUT a Nobel Prize, is at the top of my list because of his patience, generosity, and lively wit--there was no reason a writer and university professor of his stature should have taken the time he did to guide a callow Laredense, wet behind the ears and all, but he did. Fuentes just spoke at UCSD last week and I was able to catch up with him. Read Aura if you have a chance; you won't regret it.

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