I don’t think I’ve read a single body of work with such an impact on its own country of birth — yet still remain seemingly a ghost to the world — than the written works of Juan Rulfo. I had never heard the name until two years ago and I can guarantee my typewriter (okay, maybe not that, how about a fountain pen?) that there are dozens of readers in the same place.
“But wait,” many will say on countless forums and comment sections. “Juan Rulfo is a household name, you fool. Every soul in Mexico knows of the writer — his stories are mandatory reading in school just like Crime and Punishment in Russia and Faust in Germany.”
Read Full Article »