It was a story about the bee that stung his daughter
and he told it from the point of view of a hive
in a yard in a small midwestern town. And a small
midwestern periodical published it in the same
issue as it published the work of a Chinese poet.
He admired the Chinese typography alongside
the English translation and he tried to determine
which characters corresponded to which English
words butnever got farther than an educated
guess for“I” and “tree.” He imagined the Chinese
poet sending copies to friends and family half-
way around the world. He imagined someone
translating his story and someone using it to
try to learn English. He thought about different
kinds of readers responding to its being told
from the bee’s point of view, something he’d
worried about even as he wrote the story. What if
the color of the flowers on the dress she was
wearing seemed inappropriate and the parallels
between the morals of the town and the business
of the hive raised more questions than they
answered: Were people driven only by instinct?
Would readers think he wanted them to see
bees as behaving with humanlike intelligence?
What if the bee was a murder hornet and his
daughter was allergic and went into shock:
Would they wonder why he didn’t say she died?

Deja un comentario