I don’t know about you, but I’m under the weather something awful. In the anthology Minificción Mexicana is a story called “El Letroscopio” (“The Letroscope”) by the poet Raúl Renán. It reads like a bittersweet joke, a fable that’s been around forever. The gist is this: A man sees a doctor about a sharp pain in his book–the letters have fallen out from rough, excessive reading. The doctor prescribes the man alphabet soup after every meal, and pen exercises every morning, to restore his book. The man returns, after a year, with a book full of nonsense. The poor book expires.
I am thinking, the words in my own head jostled and shaken for the moment, that alphabet soup sure did Martha a lot more good than it did that guy. Even when her steady diet of words is garbled by missing letters in her soup in Martha Blah Blah, she still finds ways to get the message across. She’s kind of like the Cows that Type that way.
What would you say with your soup, even if you didn’t have all the letters?