To the three partners, my friends forever. My "arranged meeting" with my partner Hélio Pellegrino took place in kindergarten, at the age of six. We later became classmates and gymmates. And we remained friends throughout our lives. My first meeting with my partner Otto Lara Resende took place in my teens. Otto would later reveal that he was impressed because I knew car brands, was a swimming champion, and only talked nonsense... I also began our partnership with Paulo Mendes Campos in my teens: it was at a party where we engaged in a literary discussion (in reality, one of us—or both—was interested in impressing a beautiful young woman present). The four of us (or three, to badmouth the absentee) talked nonstop day and night, in Belo Horizonte and later in Rio. Rebellious and nonconformist, irreverence prevailed among us. We were against conventions and conveniences, starting with the literary vocation that united us. We preferred to exercise our creativity by livening up the quiet (uninhabited) streets of Belo Horizonte at that time with our antics. We would end our nights of wandering on a bench in Praça da Liberdade, sometimes until dawn, "pulling anguish." That's what we called that kind of ritual inspired by what Miguel de Unamuno (one of our favorite authors) called the "tragic feeling of life." Which didn't prevent one of us (or all four) from occasionally becoming interested in some female attraction who might wander by during the night. All this and much more is evident in these letters written while traveling. There are no less than 134 of them, sent to my three friends from 1943 to 1992—a span of about 50 years, in other words—a lifetime! As I confess, they are only justified by the sender's (and, by extension, the recipients') insanity. Even with sometimes intemperate language—or perhaps precisely because of it—they convey an impressive (at least to me) glimpse into this fabulous friendship. The book concludes with an extremely indiscreet interview we gave to a magazine, in which we were referred to by the disconcerting epithet "Four Miners of the Apocalypse." Fernando Sabino "...I wanted to be with you, Hélio, and I'm getting further and further away... Yesterday we were four friends, always together, everything was resolved after a few beers—and in the early morning, on the park bench, things were simple and pure. Just the other day we were kids... If there's any consolation left, Hélio, it's the hope that friendship will endure forever between the four of us." (Rio, 8-12-44) Fernando Sabino "... Well, Otto, there's still nothing definitive about my return to Brazil. Sometimes I feel like never coming back - like in Moraes's verse without being Vinicius: never dreaming again, just being Sabino without being Fernando... Yes, we've grown old. But let it be based on that silent affection on which true friendships are sustained. How good it is to be friends. How we need each other!" (NY, 2-19-48) Fernando Sabino "... That night, on the outskirts of Petrópolis, I stopped the car at a little bar on the road to ask for information. And who was there if not you, Paulo, alone at a table in the back? When you saw me, you simply said to the girl with me: "That guy has never disappointed me." I left, taking not only the girl, but the joy of being called "dude," with a brotherly intimacy that illuminated this truth in my mind: you too, dude, have never disappointed me." (Rio, 27-2-88) Fernando Sabino "... Yes, I said I already liked your novel without needing to read it. So what? It would be worse to read it and not like it. What does that matter, in the face of eternity?" (23-3-44) Hélio Pellegrino "... I must confess, Fernando, that I envy you for having a friend like me who envies you so much. I hope the feeling is mutual, you envious person." (10-10-58) Otto Lara Resende "... It happens that sometimes, I don't know why, I feel that you believe in me. Even if it's my mistake (or yours), that already makes me happy." (20-6-84) Paulo Mendes Campos
