Description
Oscar belongs to that kind of men of the consistency of the Baron of Benicarlés or Dr. Matthew O’Connor, who, like Prometheus bringing fire to men from Olympus, bring from the underworld in which they live half their time, a little of their fertile excrement to the halls of the Nobility that they visit frequently, on the condition that it does not smell too much.
They could have the permit of being around, but as underling ingenious jugglers of the word, foolish entertainers, mellifluous monsters, divine inhabitants of a no man’s land, who never fully belonged to that environment of people laughing at the jokes but not remorse of turning the back on you when the time comes, as if you were any Swan.
