“I thought you were dying, said Amalfitano."No, I was dreaming," said Castillo.”
In this succinct exchange from Roberto Bolaño’s work, a profound interplay between life, death, and the nature of existence is highlighted. The dialogue encapsulates a moment of introspection, inviting readers to explore deeper meanings that lie beneath the surface of the conversation.
The initial statement by Amalfitano conveys a sense of urgency and concern, suggesting that the boundaries between life and death are fragile. It reflects a common human tendency to interpret the state of another through the lens of their own fears and anxieties. The phrase "I thought you were dying" immediately sets a tone of gravity, implying that the presence of mortality is ever-present.
In contrast, Castillo's response, "No, I was dreaming," shifts the focus away from despair and toward a more introspective and surreal existence. The act of dreaming can symbolize hope, possibility, or even a yearning for a different reality. This juxtaposition serves to illustrate the oft-blurred line between consciousness and the deeper realms of the subconscious where dreams dwell.
This exchange also raises questions about reality and perception. The juxtaposition of death and dreaming suggests that what we perceive as reality may not always align with another's inner experience. Just as Castillo was lost in a dream, Amalfitano was entrenched in a fearful perception of a harsh reality. This highlights the subjective nature of human experience, emphasizing how personal interpretations can diverge dramatically.
In just a few lines, Bolaño crafts a moment that resonates with universal truths about existence. The dialogue acts as a microcosm of the human condition, hinting at the profound complexities of life, death, and the dreams that serve as a refuge from our harsh realities. Through this exchange, readers are invited to reflect on their own perceptions and the nature of their realities.
“I kept having dreams all night. I thought they were touching me with their fingers. But dreams don't have fingers, they have fists, so it must have been scorpions.”
“When he went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, he thought his features were changing. I look like a gentleman, he said to himself sometimes. I look younger. I look like someone else”
“The strangest part of the dream,' said Pelletier, 'was the water was alive.”
“I steal into their dreams," he said. "I steal into their most shameful thoughts, I'm in every shiver, every spasm of their souls, I steal into their hearts, I scrutinize their most fundamental beliefs, I scan their irrational impulses, their unspeakable emotions, I sleep in their lungs during the summer and their muscles during the winter, and all of this I do without the least effort, without intending to, without asking or seeking it out, without constraints, driven only by love and devotion.”
“One night I dreamed of an angel: I walked into a huge, empty bar and saw him sitting in a corner with his elbows on the table and a cup of milky coffee in front of him. She’s the love of your life, he said, looking up at me, and the force of his gaze, the fire in his eyes, threw me right across the room. I started shouting, Waiter, waiter, then opened my eyes and escaped from that miserable dream. Other nights I didn’t dream of anyone, but I woke up in tears.”
“Morini read the letter three times. With a heavy heart, he thought how wrong Norton was when she said her love and her ex-husband and everything they'd been through were behind her. Nothing is ever behind us.”