Turtlenecks and Dressing in Black

January 10, 2026 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Last week a writer friend commented on the notion that writers are known for wearing turtlenecks. That’s news to me even though I am a writer and I wear turtlenecks plus multiple layers. I’m cold. I’m cold at least half of the year even here in Southern California. This comment caused me to count mine. It seems I own 25 turtlenecks–white, off-white, various shades of beige and brown but none dark, several black, two red, two orange, two coral one of which one is darker than the other, two striped (one black and white, one tan and creme), deep green, two hot pink, and one sheer in shades of black and brown and creme and a sort of burgundy color. Another is a color I am not even sure how to describe which I will call pale peach. Since I’ve been the same size for decades, I am guessing some of these border on the ancient but not worn out. I never dry them in the dryer. Drying clothes in the dryer wears them out faster and changes their color.

About one-third of the way through his “Memoirs”, Pablo Neruda talks about a poet friend of his in Spain who wore turtlenecks which Neruda claims was a huge no-no at the time. What does he say poets should wear? Black from head to toe. He had been wearing black practically since birth. His mother died from tuberculosis a month after he was born. Perhaps the endless rain and endless mud he describes in the area of southern Chile where he grew up made wearing black the most practical color. Doubtless the poverty he witnessed as a young man working as a poor employee of tiny Chilean consulates in places like Ceylon (now SriLanka), Indonesia, and India did not inspire him to wear colorful clothes. Then not long after he arrives in Spain, Franco comes to power and one of his best friends, Federico Garcia Lorca is assassinated. As for me, when I am not wearing colorful clothes, I wear black, not due to rain or mud or sadness. The reason I am drawn to black mystifies me–another thing to ponder.

Not sure this qualifies as a turtleneck but it comes close.

A Surprising Find at the Library

January 9, 2026 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Two days ago I drove to the local library to return “The Historian” and inquire about a book an acquaintance had recommended. The library houses a used book section at its front hall entrance. I usually only glance at it because mostly it contains books in which I have zero interest. I glanced once again. There in nonfiction I saw NERUDA painted in big, bold bright colors-blue, red, green, purple–across the top half of a book cover. Just below this was a parade of flowers marching across the middle of the cover in the same bold, bright colors. Finally, at the bottom painted in bright red on a black background in capital letters it read, “MEMOIRS.” Inside the O is printed in the same red these words,”confieso que he vivido.” I snatched it up. The little sign said 25 cents. Although I’ve read Neruda poems mostly translated into English, I had no idea he had written anything about his own life. I knew I had to read this. I knew some things about his fascinating life. I wanted to know more. I dug around in my wallet, found a quarter, and deposited in the little brown box one of the librarians had indicated.

Later at home, I read the beginning, his brief introduction, explaining there are gaps here and there. He also explains, “What the memoir writer remembers is not the same as what the poet remembers.” He goes on to explain this. I will need to contemplate this more. Then in the beginning of the first chapter, “The Country Boy”, he describes “The Chilean Forest”. It starts, “Under the volcanoes, beside the snow-capped mountains, among the huge lakes, the fragrant, the silent, the tangled Chilean forest…” What continues is a prose poem describing this forest with intense sensory detail so clear the reader can see the details, the mystery, the lushness. He ends with this poem with the words, “Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest does not know this planet. I have come out of this landscape, that mud, that silence to roam, to go singing through the world.” Reading this beginning instantly linked me to his poetry I had read, to its sensory detail, to its lyricism.

They say we are all products of the environment in which we grew up whether we like it or not. Reading this is making me view this truism in a new light.

Book 32 for 2025: “My Name Is Emilia del Valle”, Isabel Allende

August 2, 2025 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

The last two books of hers that I read were set in the more recent times when Salvador Allende and later Pinochet were presidents of Chile. This one dates back to the 1800s and the Chilean Civil War. In 1866 a nun of Irish descent living in San Francisco has a passionate affair with a Chilean aristocrat and becomes pregnant. He abandons her; their daughter becomes the woman in the title of this novel. She is raised by a loving step father, an intellectual teacher from whom she learns to be independent and defy societal norms. At a young age she becomes the writer of short pulp fiction novels using a fake male name. The income from these helps her family live a reasonably good life.

Bored with writing these lucrative little books, she convinces a San Francisco newspaper to hire her as a journalist where she works along with a more seasoned journalist, Eric Whelan. Eventually, the two are sent to Chile to cover the civil war and violence occurring there. She sees this as not only an opportunity to satisfy her adventurous spirit but also an opportunity to find her biological father. She encounters dangers, almost gets killed, and sets off to find herself in the far southern reaches of the Chilean wilderness, learning from the indigenous people who live there how to survive in remote mountains.

Note: One of the places she goes was nearly impossible for non indigenous people to find during the 1800s and many never made it. Today, it is a popular area for hiking, camping, and exploring nature.

Book 27 for 2025: “Violeta”, Isabel Allende

July 13, 2025 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Although technically not a sequel, “Violeta” seems to be a sort of sequel to “A Long Petal of the Sea”. If you are interested in Chilean history just before, during, and after the demise of Chilean president Salvador Allende and the horrors of Pinochet’s rule which the CIA helped to implement, this novel is for you.

This is the story of one woman, Violeta, told from her viewpoint via a long memoir written for and to her grandson. She begins life as the youngest child of a wealthy businessman whose poor and risky decisions lead to the family’s downfall, forcing them to escape to the remote, far southern regions of the country. It is the tale of a strong, passionate, determined woman who lived a lifestyle far ahead of her time, other family members, the far right Hitler sympathizing German farmers who immigrated to the far south, and others she knew including a renegade pilot who flew contraband and “prisoners” for various nefarious groups. Although not a murder mystery or a work of fiction that could be called adventurous, the story of Violeta’s life is so fascinating that I kept wanting to read on and on.