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Essence And Attribute

On July 25, as I tried to hit letter A, I noticed a slight wart on the pinky of my left hand. On the 27th it seemed considerably larger. On the third of August, with the help of a jeweler's loupe, I was able to discern its shape. It was a sort of diminutive elephant: the world's smallest elephant, yes, but an elephant complete down to the smallest detail. It was attached to my finger at the end of its little tail. So that, while it was my pinky finger's prisoner, it nevertheless enjoyed freedom of movement except that its locomotion completely depended on my will.

Proudly, fearfully, hesitatingly I exhibited him to my friends. They were revolted, they said it couldn't be good to have an elephant on one's pinky, they advised me to consult a dermatologist. I scorned their words, I consulted with no one, I had nothing further to do with them, I gave myself over entirely to studying the evolution of the elephant.

Toward the end of August it was already a handsome little gray elephant the length of my pinky although quite a bit thicker. I played with him all day. At times I was pleased, to annoy him, to tickle him, to teach him to do somersaults and to jump over tiny obstacles: a match box, a pencil sharpener, an eraser.

At that time it seemed appropriate to christen him. I thought of several silly, and apparently traditional, names worthy of an elephant: Dumbo, Jumbo, Yumbo ..., Finally, I ascetically decided to call him just plain Elephant.

I loved to feed Elephant. I scattered over the table bread crumbs, lettuce leaves, bits of grass. And out there at the edge, a piece of chocolate. Then Elephant would struggle to get to his treat. But if I held my hand tight, Elephant never could reach it. In this way I confirmed the fact that Elephant was only a part - the weakest part - of myself.

A short time later - when Elephant had acquired the size of a rat, let us say - I could no longer control him so easily. My pinky was too puny to withstand his impetuousness.

At that time I still was under the misapprehension that the phenomenon consisted solely of Elephant's growth. I was disabused of this idea when Elephant reached the size of a lamb: on that day I too was the size of a lamb.

That night - and a few others too - I slept on my stomach with my left hand protruding from the bed: on the floor beside me slept Elephant. Afterwards I had to sleep - face down, my head on his croup, my feet on his back - on top of Elephant. Almost immediately I found just a portion of his haunch to be sufficient. Afterward, his tail. Afterward, the very tip of his tail, where I was only a small wart, totally imperceptible.

At that time I was afraid I might disappear, cease to be me, be a mere millimeter of Elephant's tail. Later I lost that fear, I regained my appetite. I learned to feed myself with leftover crumbs, with grains of birdseed, with bits of grass, with almost microscopic insects.

Of course this was before. Now I have come to occupy once again a more worthy space on Elephant's tail. True, I am still aleatory. But I can now get hold of an entire biscuit and watch - invisibly, inexpugnably - the visitors to the Zoo.

At this stage of the game I am very optimistic. I know that Elephant has begun to shrink. As a result, I am filled with an anticipated feeling of superiority by the unconcerned passers - by who toss biscuits to us, believing only in the obvious Elephant they have before them without suspecting that he is no more than a future attribute of the latent essence which still lies in wait.

 

From En defensa propia, Buenos Aires, Editorial de Belgrano, 1982.

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I AM SO AMBIVILENT TO THIS STORY...I JUST READ IT. I FINISHED IT, BUT I WASNT SO ENTHRALLED IN IT THAT I COULD PUT IT DOWN. I LIKE THE IDEA OF THE STORY, BUT FOR SOME REASON IT JUST DIDNT GRAB ME.

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I was attracted by this fables s calmness and a thing warmth of this story, and had begun to read. However, it was fables which it was made to think for us to read very much. It express modern people well. It was the very good work which strongly got a heart of a person, but it was condensed briefly and was difficult to understand.

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Great story

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This story was not my favorite but it was unique and in some ways interesting. While reading this story it made me think of my childhood. I started to think that this girls’ elephant was her imaginary friend much like many children have while growing up. I never had an imaginary friend but I have known many people who have. The story tells you that the elephant evolved from a wort on the girls finger, which is just rediculous but it makes you use your imagination to comprehend the story. I believe that this stories underlining point is about a childs imagination.

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I thought it was very clever and certainly entertaining. I enjoyed the fact that he didnt care what his friends thought, and he left the elephant on his finger. Maybe he felt unique with it? I also wonder whether or not the elephant felt emotionally attached to the finger on which he was physically connected too. The ending was also great because its clear that the man will eventually be able to control things as soon as the elephant has shrunk back down.

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I thought this was a really strange story. Who comes up with ideas like this? Just odd. It never caught my attention or kept me interested. It kept making me think how weird it was. Why would a wart become an elephant? Playing with his wart was wierd to me also. I just didnt like it.

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by who toss biscuits to us, believing only in the obvious Elephant they have before them without suspecting that he is no more than a future attribute of the latent essence which still lies in wait.

can someone explain to me what he means here?

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Fernando, I really enjoyed this story. Its been some time since Ive read a humor story and I must say that yours was refreshing.

At first, I saw the protagonist as having a slight problem that was whimsical, but soon I realized his problem was more dire than funny.

You really pushed the limits of humor to the absurdly dark. I loved how he immediately disregards his friends for his new pet. Loved that! Then his pet becomes a major problem and soon he is the shunned blemish on the elephant.

Great ending and wonderful use of language!

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The difference (or not) between essence and attribute is a long-standing field of discussion in philosophy. Sorrentinos achievement is to lift it from dry debate to a story which hints at both political and moral dimensions. The whole point about Sorrentinos story is that it can be read on different levels, the fun is in penetrating the obvious to get to the deeper meaning.

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i enjoyed how at first you think it is merely a wart shaped like an elephant, and that he is imaginiing it moving and playing wth it as someone would play with a doll,but slowly realize that it is a living breathing elephant.

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To start with I was slightly side-swiped by this stories weirdness. As I read further I thought it was genius. The Elephant, I thought, was a tumour of some sort, and that idea in my mind lead me to assume that it was the first signs of some kind of disease. I thought it was clever how the man nurtures the parasitical Elephant with joy, but then the roles are reversed and he is forgotten. It reminded me of parenthood, in a way. His mole became him. His soul attraction, and he was nothing but a blip upon it. Very good!

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Sorrentino, through this story, I think reflects on how a problem, insignificant at first, can become so big that it totally envelopes ones existence. This is similar to the Arabian story of The Camel And The Merchants Tent.
Good read..
- Reneena

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I have been reading through the comments and quite
a few people seem to think this story is written from
the perspective of a little boy. Why is this I wonder?
Nowhere in the story does it indicate that it is a little
boy that has the wart.

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coooooool

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WTF is this.

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