MARIACHI. By Juan Villoro. Translated by Harry Morales. “Shall we do it?” Brenda asked. I saw her white hair, parted into two silky sections. I adore women with. Mariachi [JUAN VILLORO] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers . Mariachi (Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading) – Kindle edition by Juan Villoro, Lexi Freiman. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC.

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In El testigoSupertramp reminds the protagonist of a particularly shameful event.

Mariachi by Juan Villoro | Short Story Recommendation

About Electric Literature Electric Literature’s mission is to ensure that literature remains a vibrant presence in popular culture by supporting writers, building community, and broadening the audience for literature through digital innovation. When she pulled off my pants, I thought about Schumacher, the master of mileage. Does it make sense to talk about your inner life with a fan? I spent three terrifying days in Barcelona without being able to see her. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account.

Leo handed me a press folder full of praise for my foray into independent film. Los culpables is his first work to be published in English, and Braziller will also publish his novel, Arrecifein the summer of What would I like? I was also growing more and more attracted to Brenda. Open Preview See a Problem? Villoro shows us that this occurs not because people have just failed to understand Mexico.

I went to see Leo at two in the morning. She is currently working on a novel in prose poems. He had drawn a perfect pantomime of my manias, but he managed to make my limitations seem brilliant and interesting.


I was paid the same amount for four weeks of shooting as I got for one concert in any remote ranch in Mexico. She looked at me as if she was imagining the size of mine and seemed disappointed, but she was terribly nice and said nothing.

I had gone to see him because I was sick of being a mariachi. Then she told me why she wanted me. Those words helped me a lot. A mariachi should breed like a stud bull.


My mother died when I was two years old. I asked her to come see me. Lisagarden marked it as to-read Oct 25, He sniffed too much glue as a teenager and was once convinced that spots on his arms were spiders underneath his skin.

Forgive me for saying it again. Somewhere in relation to those images more substantial thoughts and feelings circulate, but who knows which are real? It took the reporters marizchi video clips to catch on. I would mount a horse for the first time and blow my brains out in the Mexican countryside. Had I embraced her in that moment I would have burst into tears. I had become the stallion of the fatherland.

I read them at the worst possible time. In addition to featuring our own recommendations of original, previously unpublished fiction, we invite jun authors, indie presses, and literary magazines to recommend juann work from their pages, past and present. We started going out. He ran mariafhi bare feet back and forth over a puma skin rug while I talked.

She hated ranchera music and wanted a blond boyfriend. I wanted to sink into a Jacuzzi, to stop being a mariachi.

I have the voice, a face like an abandoned rancheroand the eyes of a brave man who mariacbi how to cry. I thought about Brenda and dialed her on my cell. Did that kind of courtesy really exist in porn?


To say that he suffers an identity crisis is an understatement.

Leo said Cata had blue hair and I figured she could probably dye it white. She went there to get away from mariachis. The real thing remains outside of the circulation of words that comprise the story.

She likes to blame it mariiachi her first shoot. When the painter begins with a dripping black spot, the narrator reminds the reader that he hates spots. She cleared the set to film me naked. Catalina had predicted the movie would make me ujan cult star. For access to year-round submissions, join our membership program on Dripand follow Recommended Reading on Medium to get every issue straight to your feed. We continue in this tradition with our current series of contemporary Australian poetry, a first collection by essayist Allison Gruber, and the first English translations of renowned Mexican writer, Juan Villoro.

He wants you to grow your fingernails out like a vamp.


My fame is too strong a drug. Perfect for a slightly seedy queer. I would appear in mariacho movie, a ferocious criticism of the celebrity world, and I would do a full frontal. He recognized that it would be harder to vilify a more successful band: I stayed behind for the tongue kiss scene. A man can accelerate up to kilometers an hour, he can win and win and win, he can donate a fortune, and he can still be treated this way, in my own bed.