Letters from Miguel Cané

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Illustrated rustic ISBN: 9788490071427
Hardcover ISBN: 9788411267045
Typographic rustic ISBN: 9788498167535

SKU: 9788498976441 Category: Tags: , , ,

Cané was a clear exponent of the so-called Generation of 80. He collaborated with numerous newspapers and left a vast literary production. His writings recurrently appeal to autobiographical matter. Those who knew him conceivably emphasize that he was a cultured man. They claim that he was distinguished, humorous and skeptical, that he used to write about his travels, the countries in which he resided and his readings.
These Letters of Michael Cané are a compilation of epistles addressed largely to his mother. Here his experiences are recounted through his travels, evoking the heartfelt nostalgia for the family environment and the memory of a distant childhood.

Rada de Montevideo, May 16, 1870. Dear old lady,
We have arrived well, although very dizzy from having had a barbaric swell.
Morning morning we leave for Rio de Janeiro.
I have not gone down in Montevideo, because it is almost impossible.
Apologize to acquaintances and friendly families, for not saying goodbye.
After being on board I knew that my good Justita with friend Dimet had gone to the dock: give them many hugs.
To Dimet that I have to communicate an idea that will give us weights.
Fulton Mendez gets dizzy like an ox.
I will follow all your advice my old darling and I believe that thinking of you and your holy love, I will be very happy in Europe.
To Hector do not forget the letter-order of the 200 monthly.
My love to all and you a hug from your son
Miguel Cané

To Rio de Janeiro!
I have no other role than this one of Manuel Augusto.

Rio de Janeiro, May 22, 1870. My dear mother,
Next to a beautiful and fresh waterfall, which spills beautifully between the palms of the botanical garden, there is a mountain of thick reeds in which each traveler engravs, already his name, and a sweet and beloved memory that shakes his heart at that moment. More than with my hand, I have engraved your name there with my soul, which harbors for you an immense and pure affection that grows more, if possible, when I lack your affectionate kisses.

We have arrived in Janeiro admirably.

I remember that recently I read you a sublime book that brought this bitter truth: “The banished everywhere is alone.” He who leaves the homeland is an exile; With what pleasure, then, we will welcome everything that reminds us of it!

All of us there have formed a colony and live together on land and sea.

We are: Rufino; wife and children, Manuel Augusto and Carmela, Don Juan José, Etelvina and Julio Juan José Méndez, 0’Gorman and sister, Don Ricardo 0’Shee and lady (who knows you), Adriano Rossi, Paco Casares, Rodolfo Casares and me. You see if we will have a great time.

We have visited the botanical garden and the public: It is the most beautiful thing you can dream of, nor the dreams of my father’s imagination who was looking for a paradise on earth is similar to reality.

Surrounded by mountains thousands of feet high, kissing her feet the calm sea, swaying her palms in the slightest wind, Rio de Janeiro seems a creation alien to the universe, a vestige of eternal glory, the song of Hesiod, the Elysian Fields of Virgil … but what do you know about this, my good old lady! But you have a great soul and clear spirit, and I tell you this frankly and proudly; If my father gave me something of his mighty head and vivid imagination, you have given me the delicacy of feeling, which they say cover the pages I write.

I have formed a project; when you return; I must bring you to admire these greatnesses.

To my brothers, Justa, Dimet and Lola a big hug of the soul.

To my aunt Anita that I have seen the name of my uncle Luis engraved on a tree for a walk: that as soon as I see him in London I will return the big hug he gave me at the farewell.

To all those who love me my memories from the heart. Tomorrow we embark for Europe.

Goodbye, loving and holy mother: if the reward that mothers have in the world is the affection of their children, you are rewarded.

I will always write to you and follow your holy counsel.

Your son

Miguel Cané

Join me all the “Tribunes” where something of mine is published; even that of May 17 / 70.

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