‘At seven in the evening a yellow car pulled up by the house… the driver wore jeans and a dusty black shirt with white buttons. She had come from Galicia.’ In John Berger’s essay ‘A Woman and a Man Standing By a Plum Tree’, a woman called Marisa Camino turns up, unannounced, at Berger’s house. They have met briefly once before at a reading Berger gave, when Camino – an enthusiast for his writing – gave him one of her drawings. Berger, though, didn’t catch her name. Now, at his house, they talk ‘of nothing’; avoiding the rain, she stays overnight. In the morning, Camino takes a photograph of herself and Berger, and leaves again.
On hospitality
On hospitality
On hospitality
‘At seven in the evening a yellow car pulled up by the house… the driver wore jeans and a dusty black shirt with white buttons. She had come from Galicia.’ In John Berger’s essay ‘A Woman and a Man Standing By a Plum Tree’, a woman called Marisa Camino turns up, unannounced, at Berger’s house. They have met briefly once before at a reading Berger gave, when Camino – an enthusiast for his writing – gave him one of her drawings. Berger, though, didn’t catch her name. Now, at his house, they talk ‘of nothing’; avoiding the rain, she stays overnight. In the morning, Camino takes a photograph of herself and Berger, and leaves again.