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"You Black Whore!" Upon the success of her book Carolina moved out of the favela. Ordering a truck, she loaded up her children, table, two cots, mattresses, bookshelf and six cooking pots. Neighbors surrounded the truck. A man yelled, "You think you are high-class now, you black whore! You write about us and make lots of money, and then leave without sharing it." A drunken woman hurled a rock that gashed one of Carolina's two sons. Rocks struck Daughter Vera Eunice. As curses and the hail of stones grew, Carolina pounded on the hood, leaped aboard, and the driver roared through the mob. The favela-dwellers gave chase, brandishing clubs and rotten vegetables until the truck neared a police station. Then they fell away, and headed home.
* These 80,000 copies equalled the 80,000 copies of U.S. bestseller Lolita printed in its first month two years ago.