Description
But who is the narrator? Wouldn’t it be better to introduce him with a single word? He isn’t a specific person who can be referred to historically. He is neither man nor woman, has no identity or name. He is perhaps a collection of whispered or raised voices, driven by a collective desire to immortalize certain memories, driven by a passion for wisdom and admonition, captivated by emotions of joy and sorrow, a deeply buried sense of tragedy, and the sweetness of dreams believed to have once come true. He is, in fact, a heritage woven from an angelic history whose veracity stems from its warmth and the depth of its longings. It is embodied by a faithful imagination that yearns to conquer space despite its faltering feet on the familiar ground, its cracked soil and its gaps brimming with stagnant water. When I record him as the narrator and his exact words, I am proclaiming what loyalty commands and implementing what love dictates, while simultaneously submitting to a force that cannot be ignored.
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