He floats above it in the thin upper air of reason, settling accounts, pronouncing on evil. Mario, meanwhile, has spent so much time living against his illness that his body has become a thing he is eager to be rid of. I want to avenge myself on my own flesh.” “We cause each other pain in order to make sure we are still here. We tear into each other,” Elena says of her lover. It is very hard to find a novel that understands so well how grief touches the erotic like Talking to Ourselves. She needs to feel as ravaged in the body as she does in her heart. She begins an erotic, submissive affair with her husband’s doctor. Numb and outraged at the same time, she is desperate to feel something other than that pain. His imagination, a child’s greatest sense, lacks the capacity to imagine a world without his father.Įlena has spent so much time praying and making promises to death that she has exhausted herself. He replies to his mother’s texts cheerily, absorbs a few lessons - stick up for yourself, don’t talk to strangers at truck stops - but life proceeds almost as normal. Lito, who is 10 years old, simply enjoys the time with his father.
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