El Monte Everest, con toda su relevancia para la realeza, los exploradores, los imperialistas. Y dos sherpas, posados en un acantilado, esperando que el hombre de la cornisa de abajo se mueva.Un inglés cae de un acantilado en Nepal, y yace inerte en la cornisa. Dos sherpas se arrodillan en el borde del abismo, permanecen allí, intercambian algunas palabras a la espera de que el hombre tome la decisión de moverse, de descender. En esos minutos, el mundo se abre para Kathmandu: un pueblo soleado en otro continente, las páginas de Julio César. Montañismo, colonialismo, compromisos y obligaciones; en la fluida prosa de Sebastián Martínez Daniell, cada respiro es cristalino, y brinda una perspectiva desde la que se puede ver la inmensidad del mundo. An Englishman has fallen from a cliffside in Nepal, and lies inert on a ledge below. Two sherpas kneel at the edge, stand, exchange the odd word, waiting for him to move, to make a decision, to descend. In those minutes, the world opens up to Kathmandu, a sun-bleached beach town on another continent, and the pages of Julius Caesar. Mountaineering, colonialism, obligation—in Sebastián Martinez Daniell's effortless prose each breath is crystalline, and the whole world is visible from here.Mount Everest, and all it means to royalty, explorers, imperialists, and two sherpas, perched on a cliffside, waiting for a man on the ledge below to move.A British climber has fallen from a cliffside in Nepal, and lies inert on a ledge below. Two sherpas kneel at the edge, stand, exchange the odd word, waiting for him to move, to make a decision, to descend. In those minutes, the world opens up to Kathmandu, a sun-bleached beach town on another continent, and the pages of Julius Caesar. Mountaineering, colonialism, obligation—in Sebastián Martínez Daniell's effortless prose each breath is crystalline, and the whole world is visible from here.
