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Quote by David Lida

“…out of the city’s eighty-five thousand streets, there are about eight hundred fifty called Juárez, seven hundred fifty named Hidalgo, and seven hundred known as Morelos. Two hundred are called 16 de Septiembre, while a hundred more are called 16 de Septiembre Avenue, Alley, Mews, or Extension…”

Quote by David Lida

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David Lida

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“But this first clumsy attempt showed her that the imagination itself was a source of secrets: once she had begun a story, no one could be told. Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. Even writing out the she saids, the and thens, made her wince, and she felt foolish, appearing to know about the emotions of an imaginary being. Self-exposure was inevitable the moment she described a character's weakness; the reader was bound to speculate that she was describing herself. What other authority could she have?”

“Tina Modotti and EdwardWeston opened an upscale portrait studio and became involved in the avant-garde community of San Angel, a fashionable southern suburb in Mexico City, which was at one time a weekend retreat for Spanish nobility. It wasn’t until about sixty years ago that this still-quaint district became an integral part of Mexico City. Tina, as usual, modeled and romped in the nude, this time for Diego Rivera, an internationally acclaimed artist. In 1926, Diego’s wife Lupe Marín, accused him of having an affair with Tina and insisted that he not see her again. Not being daunted by his wife’s insistence, Diego frequently hung out with Tina and her younger friend Frida Kahlo, who in turn also enjoyed Diego’s company. It was all just part of the wild times in San Angel, however it probably led to Diego and Lupe’s separation and ultimate divorce.”

“Hay un texto sobre cómo el bosque de Chapultepec es invadido por miles de sirvientas todos los domingos; un recorrido por la avenida Insurgentes, la calle más larga del mundo; un homenaje al monumento que alberga la mano cortada de un ex-presidente; y el recuento de una noche pasada en un bar de mal muerte adonde los soldados llegan con su novia y se van con un novio.”

“Escribir sobre la ciudad de México es una empresa destinada al fracaso. Ignorante de esto, durante mucho tiempo pensé que para escribir sobre el DF debía imitar la tradición: convertirme, a lo Walter Benjamin, en una connaisseuse de las banquetas, botánica de la flora urbana, arqueóloga amateur de las fachadas del centro y los anuncios espectaculares del periférico. He intentado caminar como una petite Baudelaire por Copilco: imposible extraer una sola línea sobre Eje 10. ¿Será culpa de Copilco? Oí a alguien decir alguna vez que Copilco venía del náhuatl 'lugar de las copias'. Tras repetidas caminatas por aquella zona, puedo concluir sin temor a equivocarme que con eso queda dicho lo único que se puede decir sobre esa feísima porción de la ciudad, apéndice enfermizo de la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, donde se reproducen masivamente los libros de sus bibliotecas a diez centavos por página. Quizá sea culpa de Copilco.”