Enrique Wernicke, left a legacy, in addition to his fiction, an unpublished diary, titled Melpomene. Twenty veneers were published by Crisis magazine in its issue of September 29, 1975, the selection was conducted by Jorge Asis. By a communication Christian Estrade (2007) presented at the Symposium on "Diary and fcción" organized in 2007 the University of Grenoble, we know the full extent of this diary is one thousand four facets, which took him over Wernicke thirty years, between March 1936 and March 1968 and that he considered his best work, the only one who survive. Reproduce the entry of December 29, 1957. December 29, 1957
ends this year is extraordinary. And I, in the nearly forty-three, I find myself at first. I have no where to work and I'm looking for a "job." The little factory of soldiers does not give more, and none of the "big projects" has curdled. The balance of this year is: a child will be born next month, a book of short stories "very good", a short novel in draft, and debts of almost 20,000 pesos.
Overwhelmed by a sense of failure. It is not know I'm not lazy and drunk. But there are drunks that "the rummage." I do not. The result of ten years of "not having to go downtown, has been writing four or five books. And change of a woman three times. And three other dogs.
I lost contact and relationship with everybody who can help me. And it occurs to me, I have gained a reputation for informal , drunk and crazy. My only prestige, "soldiers", the divine soldiers who allowed me to live without asking anything to anyone (of my literary circles).
I have absolutely nothing. And I will not for long. It is clear that I calculated, "let time pass," that something would happen, "my glory" was going to secure a modest daily bread and to come to get me to give me Changuito. That has not happened. The world does not forgive the indifference and conceit, and you have to do many things for one "I come to seek."
Analyzing the facts, I think the solitary life of these years, so useful to mature a writer Enrique, has prevented me from going out. The problem of "where as" and "who cares for the dog" ridiculously tied me to my house. Years do not go to the movies, I do not see shows, I do not know what's happening in Buenos Aires. If you stand the disgusting journey to the center, the suit and sweat, I could use a change of life. But I am afraid to feel overwhelmed by so hateful thing and I collapse the health drink. Efforts should be made as ever. Or shoot himself.
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