The Elephant Vanishes (2010)
“When did I meet my first Chinese?
Just like that, my archaeologist begins sifting through the tell of my own past. Labeling all the artifacts, categorizing, analyzing.
And so, when was that first encounter? As near as I can figure, it was 1959 or 1960. Whichever, whatever, what’s the difference? Precisely nothing. The years ’59 and ’60 stand there like gawky twins in matching nerd suits. Even if I hopped a time machine back to the period, I doubt I could tell the two apart.
In spite of which, I... persist with my labors. Doggedly expanding the dig, filling out the picture with every least new find. Shards of memory.
Okay, I’m sure it was the year Johansson and Patterson fought for the world heavyweight title. Which means, all I have to do is go search through the sports section in old copies of The Year in News. That would settle everything.
In the morning, I’m off on my bike to the local library. Next to the main entrance, for who knows what reason, there’s a tiny henhouse, in which five chickens are enjoying what is either a late breakfast or an early lunch.MoreLess
Just like that, my archaeologist begins sifting through the tell of my own past. Labeling all the artifacts, categorizing, analyzing.
And so, when was that first encounter? As near as I can figure, it was 1959 or 1960. Whichever, whatever, what’s the difference? Precisely nothing. The years ’59 and ’60 stand there like gawky twins in matching nerd suits. Even if I hopped a time machine back to the period, I doubt I could tell the two apart.
In spite of which, I... persist with my labors. Doggedly expanding the dig, filling out the picture with every least new find. Shards of memory.
Okay, I’m sure it was the year Johansson and Patterson fought for the world heavyweight title. Which means, all I have to do is go search through the sports section in old copies of The Year in News. That would settle everything.
In the morning, I’m off on my bike to the local library. Next to the main entrance, for who knows what reason, there’s a tiny henhouse, in which five chickens are enjoying what is either a late breakfast or an early lunch.MoreLess
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