Cervantes Street by Jaime Manrique

New York Live Arts presents

Marjani Forte
Nov 15-19

I began to conceive of a novel, not a pastoral or chivalric or picaresque novel, but a new kind of novel, about a man who in many ways was like Alonso Quijano, like my father, like myself; a man who per­sonified the age in which I lived; someone like Columbus, a man of humble origins, who dared to be an individual at a time when men like him were only allowed to have small aspirations. My hero would be a man who believed he was as deserving of human dignity as any nobleman; a man who would break away from all the others who had come before him, just as Columbus had, as all dreamers had from the beginning of history; a man who dared to be different; who, like Alonso Quijano, lived his life out­side the imprisoning conventions created by society; who would not be afraid to be considered mad; a man who em­bodied the qualities of a new kind of gentleman; who was as much a soldier as a man of letters; who understood that the ancient relationship between the common man and the prince was obsolete; a man, a true gentleman, who could relate to the suffering of other human beings; who would help create new ideals to aspire to; who knew that good deeds and admirable actions, a kind heart and fairness for all, were more important than privilege and birth.

—Jaime Manrique, Cervantes Street (Akashic Books, 2012)

Laura Restrepo by Jaime Manrique
Restrepo 01 Body
from Atlantic Hotel by João Gilberto Noll

I got on the bus and saw that my seat was at the end of the aisle, next to a very pretty blonde. Typical blonde girl’s freckles under her eyes. She was wearing a black sweater and blue velvet pants. Her seat was next to the window.

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264478653 01272017 Jesse Ruddock Bomb 2

She hated the narrow dirt mile between their trailer and town. She wanted to erase it the same way she might spit and rub a number off the back of her hand. 

From Vegas Girls by Heather Skyler
Skyler Bomb 1

She was still wearing her nightgown but decided it could pass for a simple sundress with its spaghetti straps and cotton material. It hit her just at mid-thigh where there was a centimeter’s hem of red lace, the only real clue, she hoped, of the garment’s intended use.