...el bosque que es memoria filtró la confusión de ciertas amnesias aunque todos sabíamos que fuimos niños de la víbora de la mar, ring around the rosy children y la maldad era espejismo lejano que nos obligaba a nunca detenernos, nunca limitarnos, nunca envejecer. El narrador viaja a la infancia que vivió en Mantua, un bosque cercano a Washington, D.C. Crónica de recuerdos que alimentó la lenta recuperación de la memoria de su madre; May empieza a recordar palabras que son nombres ,el orden de las cosas, el desorden al azar... los árboles de un bosque. La infancia del narrador es el andar para recuperar el pasado de su madre y la novela entreteje esos fragmentos como quien va hilando sílabas sobre la nieve de páginas en blanco. Jorge F. Hernández recrea los primeros tres lustros de su biografía bilingüe en medio de un bosque que ha permanecido intacto en una memoria compartida y en donde el lector queda en suspenso ante el terrible enigma del Mal, de la peor cara de la utopía norteamericana, que se alivia con los afectos que duran para siempre... y que no merecen quedar en el olvido. ... the forest that is memory filtered the confusion of certain amnesias although we all knew that we were children of the sea viper, ring around the rosy children and evil was a distant mirage that forced us to never stop, never limit ourselves, never grow old . The narrator travels to the childhood that lived in Mantua, a forest near Washington, D.C. Chronicle of memories that fed the slow recovery of his mother's memory; May begins to remember words that are names, the order of things, the random disorder ... the trees in a forest. The narrator's childhood is the walk to recover the past of his mother and the novel weaves these fragments like someone spinning syllables on the snow of blank pages. Jorge F. Herǹndez recreates the first three decades of his bilingual biography in the middle of a forest that has remained intact in a shared memory and where the reader is left in suspense before the terrible enigma of Evil, of the worst face of the North American utopia, that is relieved with affections that last forever ... and that do not deserve to be forgotten.
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