Irish writer Keith Ridgway has a post on his blog about Borges in Ireland and how a 5 year-old Ridgway met the Argentine writer in 1971.

Last week I went across the city to the neighborhood of Palermo to meet again with Peter Robertson about the development of his new literary journal, the International Literary Quarterly. Perhaps this post should be titled part 2 of A Conversation with Peter Robertson, though we’ve had so many actual conversations now that I’ve forgotten the number.

After meeting Peter outside his apartment building, we hobbled over to a neighborhood cafe. I say hobbled since Peter is still recovering from a rather bad dog bite (which might lead some to raise the question: does a good dog bite?).

We made our way up to the balcony where we had a good view of the street corner and enjoyed the end of the day over coffee, tea, and talk of the written word. Peter reports that he has received good feedback on the launch of the new literary review. But he’s not resting on his laurels. Now that issue 1 has made its way out to the world the editorial tasks of preparing the next issue along with his own fiction writing is consuming him these days.

For each issue of the International Literary Quarterly Peter wants to include a selection of stories, poetry, translations, and always at least one essay. The following writers are already slated to appear in issue 2:

• Aamer Hussein
• Sylvia Brownrigg
• Anne Donovan
• Dilys Rose
• Bret Anthony Johnston
• Palash Mehrotra
• Mohamed El-Bisatie

I must admit most of these writers are new to me (and I thought of myself as “well read”). But there are so many writers and that’s why we readers need sources like Peter’s new literary review to introduce these voices to a broader audience. And further reflecting the international diversity, Mehrotra is an Indian writer and El Bisatie is Egyptian.

We spent most of the evening discussing the craft of writing, the struggles of getting published, translation rights, and even fate. Peter has published a number of translations but is excited about the upcoming publication in Boston Literary Magazine of his own fiction writing. Update: Peter’s story Trip to Hell has now been published. Be sure to read it.

One of Peter’s challenges for the new literary review is to find a base of donors to fund paying writers. “I feel that writers should be paid,” Peter said. “It’s ashame that writers, even successful writers, don’t get paid for their work.”

We also talked about the practice of many literary journals not wanting simultaneous submissions. We both feel, as we’re sure most writers do, that having to submit a story to a journal on an exclusive basis is frustrating, particularly when a journal takes month to respond. While journals may defend this policy, is it not simply a form of discouraging submissions? Indeed, a major part of being published is persistence, not only the dedication of writing every day but also the task of continually submitting material for publication.

Chance or Fate

Our conversation veered into a discussion of chance and fate. I’m not sure if I believe in fate. The randomness of chance is somehow more appealing.

Peter said, “You’ll never convince me. I’m too much of a Calvinist.”

“I’m not trying to convince you,” was my response.

“Thank God we’re different so that we can have a good conversation,” Peter said. “How boring it would be if everyone thought alike.”

Peter went on to say, “I’m always looking for the pattern in things. I find it disturbing to think about chance and consoling to think about fate.”

I tend to think that chance and fate are two sides of the same coin, just different perspectives on events.

“Creatures of circumstance”

The late afternoon turned to night. I needed to go, find the number 10 bus back to San Telmo. Peter and I promised to get together again before he heads back to London, where he spends half the year. In wrapping up our discussion Peter mentioned how the best writers have an obsession, a compulsion to write, and about how parts of our lives always find a way into our stories. “We’re creatures of circumstance. Isn’t writing pure catharsis that calls for a great deal of craft?”

I try to look in, even briefly, on the blogs by travelers to Buenos Aires. Most cover the same familiar territory, some offer helpful tips for the tourists, and then there are those offering a fresh perspective. Occasionally, a rather famous name (depending upon your definition of fame) might be blogging about Buenos Aires. Last year there was David Byrne blogging about his trip to Argentina. Today, I came across a delightful series of postings by Robert Fulghum, known for his enormously popular books, particularly All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.

The dominant theme in my mind for months has been the dream of Argentina and tango. From experience I know that whatever you imagine a new country to be, reality will adjust your imagination. What is in the guide books is all too often a description of a Disney World that exists only for tourists who will be satisfied with illusions. It is best to be prepared to be disappointed by what you anticipate, surprised by what you encounter, and delighted by what you find.

So, then, how is BsAs and tango, you may ask? I will tell you. In the form of the South American literary tradition of magic realism, The Tango Chronicles of Senor Don Roberto Juan Carlos Fuljumero y Suipacha. You may draw your own conclusions.

Visit Fulghum’s site to read the Tango Chronicles.