Arjantinli yazar Manuel Puig’in olum yildonumu (22 Temmuz 1990)
“Bir tuhaflik, degisik bir sey; insanin dikkatini ceken ilk bu oluyor; baskalarina hic benzemeyen, siradan olmayan bir kadin. Enikonu genc oldugu belli, yirmi besinde filan, belki biraz daha buyuk; minicik bir yuz, kedi gibi, ucu yukari kalkik, ufak bir burun... Yuz bicimi tam oval degil de yuvarlacik, alni genis, elmacikkemikleri belirgin filan falan, ama ceneye dogru sivrilesiyor, tipki kedilerinki gibi.”
“Ya gozleri?”
“Dupduru, yesil olduguna kalibimi basabilirim, elindeki resme daha dikkatli bakmak icin iyice kisilmis. Resmini cizdigi seye bakiyor. Hayvanat bahcesindeki kara panter. Ilkin sakin duruyor, kafesinin icinde uzanip yatmis... Gelgelelim kizin sehpasiyla iskemlesi gicirdayinca panter onu gordu, kafesinde volta atip kizdan yana homurdanmaya basladi, kiz da zaten cizdigi resmi golgelendirmekte gucluk cekiyordu.”
“Hayvan onun kokusunu almamis miydi daha once?”
“Yok, kafesin icinde kocaman bir parca et var, hayvan ancak bunun kokusunu aliyor. Bakici, eti parmakligin hemen icine birakiyor ki disaridaki kokulari bastirsin; isin puf noktasi bu, panter heyecanlanmasin, diye. Simdi hayvanin ofkesini goren kiz daha bir heyecanla calismaya basliyor, cizgileri daha hizli hizli cekerek oyle bir hayvan yuzu ciziyor ki ayni zamanda bir seytan. Panter de onu gozluyor, erkek panter, acaba kizi paramparca edip govdeye indirmek mi istiyor, yoksa cok daha baska, cok daha cirkin bir icguduyle mi bakiyor, bunu kestirmesi guc.”
“Something a little strange, that’s what you notice, that she’s not a woman like all the others. She looks fairly young, twenty-five, maybe a little more, petite face, a little catlike, small turned-up nose. The shape of her face, it’s . . . more roundish than oval, broad forehead, pronounced cheeks too but then they come down to a point, like with cats.”
“What about her eyes?”
“Clear, pretty sure they’re green, half-closed to focus better on the drawing. She looks at her subject: the black panther at the zoo, which was quiet at first, stretched out in its cage. But when the girl made a noise with her easel and chair, the panther spotted her and began pacing back and forth in its cage and to growl at the girl, who up to then was still having trouble with shading in the drawing.”
“Couldn’t the animal smell her before that?”
“No, there’s a big slab of meat in the case, that’s all it can smell. The keeper drops the meat near the bars, and it blocks out any smell from outside, that’s the point, so the panther won’t get excited. And noticing the anger of the wild animal the girl begins to work more feverishly, with faster and faster strokes, and she draws the face of an animal that’s also a devil. And the panther watches her, a male panther, and it’s hard to tell if he’s watching to tear her to pieces and make a meal of her, of if he’s driven by some other, still uglier instinct.”
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