. . . but they have no interest in real combat, when the great masters struggle against that something, that something that terrifies us all, that something that cows us and spurs us on, amid blood and mortal wounds and stench.

24 March 2010

Elvira Campos

Sometimes Elvira Campos thought it would be best to leave Mexico. Or kill herself before she turned fifty-five. Maybe fifty-six?

Page 513.

Interesting. I don't want to leave Mexico either. But in my case it is not quite this serious a matter. Killing one's self in late childhood? She should up that to age seventy-five at least.

It is also interesting that we are offered this angst with nary a hint as to what lies behind it.


  1. She's terrified of aging. I think that's all that's behind the angst. Her elastin will last only so much longer before she starts to droop and wrinkle, an inevitability she is very much in the not-ok-with camp on.

  2. Interesting. Upon considering your observations, it seems clear to me now, based upon the quotation that I offered, that she is more terrified of aging than she is of death itself.