Today in fiction
On April 30, 1929, Beatriz Viterbo dies.
-- "The Aleph" (1949)
by Jorge Luis Borges
From "The Book of Fictional Days"
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Today in Literary History When Love with unconfinèd wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair
And fetter'd to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
Know no such liberty ...
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.
A 17th century biographer tells us that by his death in 1658, Lovelace had fallen from grace and squandered his estate: "He became very poor in body and purse, was the object of charity, went in ragged clothes (whereas when he was in his glory he wore cloth of gold and silver) and mostly lodged in obscure and dirty places, more befitting the worst of beggars and poorest of servants ... He died in a very mean lodging in Gunpowder Alley, near Shoe Lane."
-- Steve King
To find out more about "Today in Literary History," e-mail Steve King.
