Mario Benedetti's "The Other I"
My Spanish tutor introduced me to Mario Benedetti , an Uruguayan fiction writer, poet and journalist. My homework was to translate his story "The Other I." I don't put my fingers up my nose, at least not in company, but I can certainly see how vulgarity could co-exist with poetry in the same person. Here's a fellow-exile. * It was about a common fellow: in his trousers mended with knee patches, he would read comics, make noise when eating, put his fingers up his nose, snore in his nap. He was called Armando. Common in every thing but one: he had an Other I. The Other I used to have a certain poetry in his eyes, fall in love with the actresses, lie casually, get excited at dusk. The fellow was very worried about the Other I, because the Other I made him feel uncomfortable in front of his friends. On the other hand, Other I was melancholic and, due to it, Armando could not be so vulgar as he wished to be. One evening Armando returned from work, tired, took off his shoes...