PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
News and Notes
Digital Access to PN Review
Access the latest issues, plus back issues of PN Review with Exact Editions For PN Review subscribers: to access the PN Review digital archive via the Exact Editions app Exactly or the Exact Editions website, you will first need to know your PN Review ID number. read more
PN Review Prize winners announced
Carcanet Press and PN Review are delighted to announce the winners of the first ever PN Review Prize. read more
Most Read... Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Drew MilneTom Raworth’s Writing
‘present past improved’: Tom Raworth’s Writing

(PN Review 236)
Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Alejandro Fernandez-OsorioPomace (trans. James Womack)
(PN Review 236)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Kei MillerIn the Shadow of Derek Walcott

(PN Review 235)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Gratis Ad 1
Gratis Ad 2
Next Issue Peter Scupham at 85: a celebration Contributions by Anne Stevenson, Robert Wells, Peter Davidson, Lawrence Sail

This article is taken from PN Review 208, Volume 39 Number 2, November - December 2012.

The Sting and the Web Ricardo Nirenberg

Long ago, my bouts of fever opened the ivory gates of unsuspected worlds. The flowers in the wallpaper attracted bees; Rahav or Leviathan would float past, open-mouthed, a wrecked galleon on their tongue, eagles and vultures diving and picking in the deep valleys between their teeth, and the scaly monsters ended up hiding, coiled, under my bed. To my nose came by turns the sulphurous smell of the cap gun long lost and the smell of the hot chocolate Mother brewed only for my birthdays; the taste in my mouth was now hard as armour plate, now bland, like bread soaked in tepid water. Then the command, ‘Open! Wide!’ broke this total disarray of the senses. I turned my head and saw another monster with a single huge, bright, round eye.

Dr Mindlin was at my bedside, head mirror in place, spoon ready to press my tongue down. Mother a few paces behind him, looking worried, hands clasped on her lap. With his gold-capped Parker 51, the doctor scribbled something and handed the bit of paper to Mother. She asked, ‘Viva Perú?’ And Dr Mindlin replied emphatically, ‘Sí, viva Perú!’

Now, even to a seven-year-old kid running a high fever it was clear that the phrase ‘Viva Perú’, or perhaps ‘Viva el Perú’, could not possibly mean, in this situation, an affirmation of support for the Andean nation. Our nation, nuestra patria, was the Argentine Republic, which dwelt, as we were taught at school, ...

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image