- Shopping Bag ( 0 items )
With Carry Me Like Water, Benjamin Alire Sáenz unfolds a beautiful story about hope and forgiveness, unexpected reunions, an expanded definition of family, and, ultimately, what happens when the disparate worlds of pain and privilege collide.
When Diego woke from his uneasy sleep he was lost and sad and far away from himself. It was as if he was always fighting to belong to his body, to himself, to the city he lived in. Always he woke wondering where he was, his body hurting. Naked, he felt himself trembling as though he were a tree whose leaves were being torn away by a wind that had no respect for anything that was green and growing, anything weaker than itself. His limbs felt bare and raw -- exposed. In the winter, he shook from the cold; in the summer, from the heat. He took one hand and grabbed the other to make it stop shaking. He wanted to yell, scream, clear his lungs of everything that had settled inside him. When he woke, he always had the feeling he had taken into his lungs a million grains of sand -- had swallowed all of the desert's dust in one night, dust that cut into him like tiny pieces of crushed glass. His lungs and throat felt dry as ashes. He was drought itself. He was dust.
Diego wanted to wake and see a morning made of more than gray, colorless shadows that stood motionless and large before a dawn that was dark despite the rising sun. He wanted to wake to a good and perfect sun that would lift all the gray and dirt from the air. He wanted to wake. Instead, he remained in his noiseless trap of a body, caught in the endless repetitions that were his life. He always woke before the light entered the room. It was always the same, always black: black as his coffee, black as his eyes, black as his hair and the dreams he tried to keep himself from remembering. He stared at his hands, his legs, his feet. He stared at himself until he remembered where he was: in this room, this room where he slept but which would never be his. He felt himself to be always on the edge of homelessness. He could not talk. He could not hear. But in the morning that was all he ever thought of doing.
Excerpted from Carry Me Like Water by Benjamin Saenz Copyright © 2005 by Benjamin Saenz.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted November 3, 2013
I got the e book first from my library because something about the title called to me. After reading several chapters I had to buy it. It is easy to tell he writes poetry and unsurprising he won awards for them. He ia a very profound writer who reaches deep into that well all writers tap into some more deeply than others. The words are loved and so return that love. A truly beautiful work of art. I feel honored he chose to share such beauty with the world, with me. I will definitly read more of his works and can honestly say I cannot wait to read his poetry.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 4, 2012
I was lent this book years ago and "forgot" to return it. This story brings you into it. The characters become real and the discriptions of the El Paso,Tx/Juarez,Mx is dead on. I know...I'm from El Paso. Give it a try, you'll find yourself smiling &crying and feeling for the characters.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted December 30, 2003
Posted August 8, 2003
This is an amazing story about love. It keeps you interested by telling each character's story separatly until you get near the end where each life comes together.I have read it twice, and it was even better the second time.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 8, 2011
No text was provided for this review.
Posted September 14, 2011
No text was provided for this review.