My First Face by Sarah Wetzel For fifty-five years, Borges slowly went blind, losing first grey and green, the small fonts, the leaf's network of veins, then the difference between cerulean and sapphire, between Chianti and claret. In the end, it was every edition of Shakespeare, love looks not with eyes, winged Cupid's painted blind. Five years later, everything black, Borges said, I'd always imagined that paradise would resemble a library. No one asked, What, abandoned to your labyrinth of darkness, do you imagine now? A man I married told me one morning, I don't think I love you. We'd been married twelve years though it took him another two years to walk out the door. To be honest, I never loved him, not even as I said yes. Yet I know, I'd still be with him if he hadn't left. Borges knew from a young age he would, like his father and his father's father before him, become sightless. It's why he read every book, he said, before he was fifty. Why he refused to learn Braille and how he could tell just by listening how many books a bookstore held. It's how, even blind, he could draw his own face––a scrawl without a mouth or eyes, a ball of black string tossed on a white sheet of paper. The truth is not always what's written down–– I loved that man and, if only a little, I love him still. “My First Face” by Sarah Wetzel from The Davids Inside David. © Terrapin Books, 2019. Reprinted with permission. (buy now) It's the birthday of poet Theodore Roethke (books by this author), born in Saginaw, Michigan, in 1908. He grew up working with his father and uncle in his family's greenhouses, and later said, “They were to me, I realize now, both heaven and hell, a kind of tropics created in the savage climate of Michigan, where austere German Americans turned their love of order and their terrifying efficiency into something beautiful." It's the birthday of novelist Robert Ludlum (1927) (books by this author), born in New York City. He wrote paranoia thrillers, and he's best known for The Bourne Identity (1980) and its sequels. He started out as an actor and producer for the stage and TV, and didn't turn to writing until later in life; his first novel, The Scarlatti Inheritance(1971), was published when he was 44. Working in the theater gave him some strong opinions about plot: "I get annoyed when a self-indulgent writer just shows off what he knows but doesn't really tell a story. To me storytelling is first a craft. Then if you're lucky, it becomes an art form. But first, it's got to be a craft. You've got to have a beginning, middle and end." Ludlum died in 2001, but his brand lives on through the Bourne Identity movies. Today is the birthday of short-story writer, poet, and occasional essayist Raymond Carver (1938) (books by this author), born in Clatskanie, Oregon. He was the son of a sawmill worker, and he got married young — right out of high school — to his 16-year-old girlfriend, Maryann Burk. He took a college creative writing course in California when he was 20, and that sparked his first interest in writing as a profession. He's best known for his short stories, but he was also an accomplished poet in the realist tradition of Robert Frost and W.S. Merwin. |