Explore "Nietzsche on his Balcony" by Carlos Fuentes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gala sang purposefully, ne me quitte pas, il faut oublier, watching, out of the corner of her eye, an exasperated Leo. His confinement dragged on. There was no end in sight, Gala said to herself with a mischievous smile. All that was left was to wait for one of two developments. Either the revolution opened itself up to the past and gathered the stray sheep, or the revolution closed itself, demanded ideological unity and the extermination of the previously dominant class.
Leo's nervousness was understandable. Either development would affect him. He would be pardoned, or he would be condemned. In either case, the bad thing was that pardon or punishment would be attributed to his brother Dante, leader of the revolution. Locked up, nervous, a mere refugee in a woman's house, Leo, however, was only a movable piece, a poor bishop in a game in which his brother, Dante, was king.