In this story there is 1 and there is 2. both are writers, one is an academic the other is not, they lead hectic lives and both hold literature to its’ highest regard, both have read countless classics and just to make things metaphorically interesting, both are poets, both are irrelevant in the greater worries of the world but as writers in their youth, they can care less. Literature is for the heady, literature is for those with the luxury of time, and in times like this, there’s revolution to be made. Wars are being fought right outside our doors. 1 and 2 do not see it like this, to them literature is an art that helps define identity and culture, they are cynics. 1 is an academic, 2 is from the streets, 2 is a raw romantic, it is not a stigma, it is a badge of honor. He lives life naively thinking that every action he takes is a poem unto itself, he is self destructive, stubborn, a dreamer, his only real friend is the pen. They are both readers of Rimbaud except 1 reads Rimbaud in French and thoroughly understands every word, while 2 reads the translated works if only to say he has read Rimbaud, both however are equally mad.
2 immediately falls in love with 1. 1 can carry several detailed conversations that few can thoroughly understand, 1 quotes all of the writers that have influenced 2 and 2 is amazed at the common knowledge they equally share. 2 has waited for someone like 1 his whole life. He has several notebooks filled with poems written about an imaginary woman that resembles 1. 2 has a well tested tendency of falling in love with anyone who remotely resembles 1, that is until he meets 1. Then he is certain he has found his queen.
On one given day they have coffee, they speak, find out bits of each other and exchange formalities while knowing that formalities among writers are non-existent. With prose and verse they examine one another’s masks, they exchange mild words, they are very intrigued by one another’s ego, both fear obscurity. they come from different forms of privilege, 1 is well read by way of upbringing, parenting, proper schooling, 2 is well read as a means of escape, he reads to kill time, he lacks discipline, yet this is privilege and privilege allows for the luxury of reading. They read and write, write and read, first drafts, second drafts, final drafts, 1 caters to the bourgeoisie, 2 distances himself from it, 2 is an anarchist. 2 does not adhere to the academic perspective, a naïve idealist, he is now jaded, yet 2 sometimes writes as if he were catering to the bourgeoisie, he openly envies the fact that 1 can reach the ear of the bourgeoisie, it is a constant confirmation of his admiration of 1 as an accomplished writer.
They have established their own individual tastes in the written word, after years of incessant reading and writing, prose, verse, essays, scripts, plays, they have become true connoisseurs of all things… written. They compliment and critique, they insult, they name writers, thinkers, vagabonds, teachers, the great ones, the failures, “Who the fuck was Whitman anyway?!?” says 1, “you know he was a big supporter of manifest destiny?!!” “most of the classic American greats are trust fund babies anyway!” “There will never be another Borges!” they dialogue, debate, and in the end come to grips with several commonalities in one another, they know one another’s flaws, they become an item.
Neither see any glamour in the ‘starving artist’ lifestyle, 1 isn’t as big a fan of English language literature as 2, 1 has always been steadily employed through literature and sees all unpublished works as amateur yet always appreciates a good poem regardless of writer. 2 does not know nearly as many Spanish language writers as 1. They learn from one another. 1 has traveled and is well cultured, 1 has been to countries that 2 has only read about. For every city 1 has visited 2 knows the literary importance behind that journey. In her professional career she has sat in the same room as her literary heroes and in turn they have become colleagues.
2 embraces his ignorance, he believes in asking questions to erase all doubts. Where 1 can find the meaning, metaphors or flaws in any given writing on the first read, it takes 2 sometimes four of five reads to begin to see beyond the obvious. 2 has a complete disregard for institutionalized academia, the only real teachers 2 ever had were Bertholt Brecht and Ricardo Flores Magon, 2 does not believe in art for arts sake, 2 views writing as a tool that helps achieve social empowerment even if never formally published, 2 believes in mobilizing the working class masses through words. He allows for his beliefs to saturate his works, some would call it propaganda. Yet 2 is the biggest fan of 1’s writing and 1 writes about life, 1 has the ability to give prose rhythm, 1 does not directly involve politics in her works, yet her work has far more influence with her essays and allegories than 2 does in his poetry, this is why 2 is a fan of 1’s writings. They view themselves as irrelevant in the greater worries of the world, in the end they do not know whether either of them fully acheive whatever goals they had set out to accomplish , but their unspoken commitment allowed for mistakes to be forgiven throughout their years together. Neither 1 nor 2 are perfect, there are moments of absence and in those moments of absence they cheat. They forgive. They separate, they re-unite.
Words eventually become over bearing, they find language in silence, 2 believes that 1’s body movements and gestures are epic poems and new conversations arise. 1 begins to recite a long silent stream of consciousness poem that began when they first met. And 2 is fully attentive listening and reading the poetic genre that he first fell in love with anxiously awaiting the next stanza, hoping the last one never arrives.
