Love Poems (and a Novel)

From facebook:

Patrick and I went to Barnes and Noble Sunday, so I could buy him the new Samsung nook for his birthday. While we were there, I bought a notebook for myself, because it was on sale and had WRITE on the cover. Always good advice. And I bought a translation of Neruda's 20 Love Poems and a Song of Despair. I had looked at it before and passed on it. I love Neruda, but I worried about his love poems. I've now read three or four of the poems. The problem is, he describes the woman as a landscape. I get no sense of a person. These poems were written long ago, when Neruda was a mere kid, so I will forgive him. But love poems that treat the loved one as a thing are creepy.

I can't remember ever thinking of Patrick as a landscape. I usually think of him as a cute, funny, clever, crabby person. (I added crabby, so you won't think I am uncritical.) I put him in a novel (To the Resurrection Station, now out in e-version) as an intelligent giant mutant rat, still a person.

If you think I am pitching To the Resurrection Station, you are right. The rat is named Shortpaw. At least one person who knows Patrick says it is a true portrait.