With the sad news of Antonio Skármeta’s death last week, I thought I’d revisit his most celebrated book, Burning Patience. If the name isn’t immediately familiar to you, I can almost guarantee you know the story - it was filmed as Il Postino (The Postman), which won a slew of international awards including an Oscar.
Mario Jiminez walks away from the family business to become a postman in a small town on the coast of Chile. It’s no ordinary postie job, though. There’s only one address to which he delivers mail: the home of Pablo Neruda. Initially shy and nervous, Mario slowly ingratiates himself with the great poet and when the boy falls in love with the local bargirl, he enlists Neruda as his confidante, matchmaker and Cyrano. It’s all very sweet, something for which Skármeta was oft criticised.
Don’t be fooled, though. This is a dark and serious book, beneath its coating of treacle. For all the joyous triumphs (and cringeworthy sex scenes), Burning Patience is a tragic tale; one that lays bear the plight of the ordinary man at times of monumental historical change. Quietly cataclysmic, it remains a major work with searing relevance to our geopolitical moment.
Burning Patience by Antonio Skármeta (Tr. Katherine Silver)
Pantheon, 1987
118 pages