Julia and Rose live with his father, the austere Henry Drayton, in an isolated house and lonely, a place where before there was only sand. To escape the oppressive environment, the sisters are subjected to constant reminder of an absent mother, Sabina, in search of refuge and peace. In this triangular relationship affects Ismail, a seducer sexy, haunting and angelic at atime, hypothetical result of extra-parental relationship.
The family home, tossed by the winds constantly African horizon is only a chaotic and dirty city. A maze of narrow streets which, Julia, the youngest daughter and shaft of the story, try escape the overpowering presence of his father and existential monotony quetranscurre no sign of change.
In Sara's daughters, Pilar Adon rare sensitivity explores a world of family relationships and feelings poisoned captives. A tramaintrigante in the desolation that intersect the face of fear, the wish fulfillment of a wasted life, loyalty and deception, humiliation and death, but leaving room for the hopeful rebellion that allow life to escape the misery prevailing even for the silver lining of being drawn by the bright memories or dreams that might come true. With sensuous prose not without lyricism, planted ideas and cultural underpinnings, Pilar Adon handles with subtle mastery and accuracy the goal posts of a biblical dyes TheHistorical us into the dizzying realm of emotional prisons.
When he returned after a year and I finally Mataró watch all those hours of tape, I noticed something that, deep down, I knew: it was not able to use a camera with solvency. My eyes were too shaky and capricious in these images, the look was more firm, was more focused in my written notes. He had seen many movies and had studied visual language, but that was not enough for my shots were usable.
However, with the help of Javier Roldán, an artist friend who I knew as a child in the nursery Carrilet name-mobile, Rocafonda, now is a fruit-edited the documentary "In the mouth," which saw a dozen friends and family before being ostracized in the drawer of the cabinet of the TV.
Meanwhile, the idea of \u200b\u200bhaving my experience at La Boca was formed. By phone, e-mail and other technological ties that are not kept in contact with the protagonists of my project. Occasionally took notes, looked at photos, read about the neighborhood for some months, was a bit mine. I even write a short review about my experience at La Boca, on the theater, on the masks of emigration. In rereading the text, which found a progressive forgetfulness (every day that passes I lose some detail of everything that lived there), I realized that I had made the wrong choice of language. My primary form of expression is writing. In the words of audiovisual documentary with the letter I started to experience another language: crystallized here.
"En La Boca", "I realized, was an echo of Chatwin. The Chronicle will soon be called "In The Mouth not" against the documentary frustrated, against a tradition of travel accounts, against myself, for I write. The text now [Then] prologue to go further, be a re-construction exercise DIY more .
I realized all in Berlin, at the corner of the Torstrasse Ackerstrasse, ie in the coven Country Street Gate Street. In a border. The neighborhood of old barns, where Jews arriving from the east settled in the precarious before having access to a decent home, the walls. Joseph Roth complained in his reports that the official policy, however, wanted to stay there permanently, on the banks of the city.
is two weeks in that rented room when I realized where I was. Not only to Berlin also regarding Mataró, my hometown, and for La Boca, Buenos Aires. Not only-in fact, in reference to physical places but also to other coordinates, abstract, such as memory, the margin, the story, the periphery, writing. I stood. Or thought to situate themselves temporarily relative stability to recreate.
I decided to write-once-east story.
Last Letters to Kansas has a lot of road movie Poetry and the reader will realize that the poet dominates the genre: not for nothing that we send letters, last letters to a program while she his escape ("walk / to find new posters / and new types of beer, new / bus stops and other faces / they did not know old names), although all the lights of a new city, new life is being sought with premeditation if it is known that the logical thing is the longing-mistress, at bottom, all time low, do not prevent the strain sometimes miss' a Monsters / when they stop living / under the bed. "
few trips are made alone, much less this before us and whose argument embrace another life (perhaps say, other bodies). Maybe if Last Letters to Kansas book is not entirely sad is because the voice that we write has not been released to the road without a foreign body for shelter. It is obvious that half the grow is to abandon the child individuality desperately need the company of others and this group of poems is the Apart from this perception.
I've written before road movie and I can add that if anything characterizes the poetry of Sofia Castanon in his first two books is among other things, the great power of the images that relies on making good use of that camera (verbal, in this case, although professionally she combines writing with audiovisual production) that points directly to where it hurts, where impacts , giving a new meaning to that pile of words they used, because More than once he said this poet who is not interested in language to sanctify them away from the things that matter.
next mythologies, like the Wizard of Oz revisited, they risk the obvious and make them not knowing anything new. I do not think so in this journey, where the reference is taken from an integral and Castanon Sofia offers another comprehensive and self-reading which does not lack coherence, not in vain ends explaining that "with life / in a box Brass / I get away from home. " And that life is shaped, perhaps, beating heart, ticking, and it accompanies.
(Alba González Sanz - The storm in a teacup).
few trips are made alone, much less this before us and whose argument embrace another life (perhaps say, other bodies). Maybe if Last Letters to Kansas is not a book quite sad because the voice that writes has not been released to the road without a foreign body for shelter. It is obvious that half the grow is to abandon the child individuality desperately need the company of others and this group of poems is not outside of that perception.
I've written before road movie and I can add that if anything characterizes the poetry of Sofia Castanon in his first two books is among other things, the great power of the images it invokes the proper use does that camera (verbal, in this case, although professionally she combines writing with audiovisual production) that points directly to where it hurts, where it hits, giving renewed meaning to that pile of words they used, as more once said this poet who is not interested in language to sanctify them away from the things that matter.
next mythologies, like the Wizard of Oz revisited, they risk the obvious and make them not knowing anything new. I do not think so in this journey, where the reference is taken from an integral and Castanon Sofia offers another comprehensive and self-reading which does not lack coherence, not in vain ends explaining that "with life / in a tin box / I get away from home." And that life is shaped, perhaps, beating heart, ticking, and it accompanies.
(Alba González Sanz - The storm in a teacup).
the late 60's Loco Larretxi is on the verge of World Championship Boxing and Margot Grey lives with a violent love story and mysterious, with her, attending the birth Larretxi Manifesto psychonaut will test the absinthe, defeat half the world, travel through it, fight their own fears ... Their relationship takes place in the years of psychedelia, mental illness, drugs, silence ... The story of their lives are intertwined with that of Thor Heyerdahl, who runs the Pacific on a raft pre-Columbian Milmam that of Parry, who looks in Yugoslavia to a Homer of our time, the Harold H. Gardiner, the skyscraper climber known in America as the Human Fly, the Roald Amundsen to conquer the South Pole ... And all these stories will lead to a chase across Europe trace of the couple, on a ghostly tour by some cities that make the book an "anti-guide" travel told from the point of view of one of the characters. Furiously writing style today.
Women do not have to crush his heart with garlic in a mortar . Author: Inma Luna. Sun dance.
(Dante Medina).
Mendinueta Lauren is the poetic voice uniquely mature and reflective, in contrast inevitable with the youth of the author. Without doubt, what is most striking about her is the relentless pursuit of linguistic precision and clarity of expression, the careful flight sentimental overflow and the pictures difficult to see. These features are enough to make it stand out in the field of contemporary Latin American poetry and, of course, in the women's poetry in English, where sobriety elocutiva and control of speech in the interest of a balance between communication and effusion lyrics are exceptional.
(Jon Juaristi).
Reality is not simple. Is an infinite prism faces often face so ridiculous, sometimes supplemented by links surprising and very rarely recognized in each other. That is, reality is defined by the fragmentary. Which is to say that it is indefinable. Which is to say that nothing is completely true. Which is to say that nothing is true. Even the cold and precise data. To make matters worse, the tentacles are agile and Sibylline internet. They belong to a beast to be tamed left long ago. Their greed will always be greater than that of the naive falling meekly in their domains. What what are their domains? The world. Thus, the existence glides gently through the pages of a blog as Iraq is bombed again and again. What is not new. What is not contemporary. The virus flood the streets as much as the memories of computers. Terrorism is also a virus. Moreover, sex is behind the veil so, so much mystification, much transparency. Yes, above all, sex exists beyond what we reveal. And there are people, though sometimes stubborn doubt arises. Yes, I'm not mistaken. I think. Suicide is a way out, that's inexcusable. Another output is to give poetry to life, small actions every day ( give them great for any loss, because we are not concerned and do not have it by nature). Yes, there are innumerable places of creative contemplation, both serene and furious, but mostly are countless ways to shape. Because there is one wave in the sea, not a single person who looks or a definite time to approach her.
This, it turns into Nacho Montoto Binary the best example I can think of what could be a poetic novel century. For detailed stories and characters (who loves whom, where the prostitute worked, why live that old in the street, how he became the terrace of a bar in a place so dreaded, how an Erasmus changed those lives) only need to come to your pages. Sure, it makes me understand more clearly that in this critique. If the reader gets little thing and get away from the data, of course.
(Guillermo Ruiz Villagordo - The storm in a teacup).
Facing background, but synthetically, with the pen of the great essayist rather than with the academic, the highest-Kafkaesque critique of Scholem to Benjamin, Steiner Baioni- Alvaro de la Rica move into this whirlwind (contradictory, inseparable, essential) Kafkaesque interpretation in concentric circles are the work of Kafka: marriage, law, the victim, the power of metamorphosis, the revelation. He is very aware of linguistic and literary research can not assure absolute decrypting the laws of this dynamic movement, and that the first necessity for the critic, is not to be engulfed by the energy of these circles, these eddies. It does superbly, writing a book that manages to be "in the interpretation of the whole work, and especially in the closed meeting between In the penal colony and the law - as a small Talmud, commentary and narrative, and is able to penetrate deeply into the sacred text and camouflaged to be the work of Kafka.
(Claudio Magris).
A good historical novel will require three assumptions: strong characters, thorough documentation on time and an interesting plot. If we add a brilliant style, an undeniable poetic beauty, then we have a great story that transcends and expands gender. This novel meets all these requirements and does so with an excellent tone
epic and melodic and rhythmic prose. The sections devoted to war are plagued by war scene excellently narrated and a great historical accuracy. It should be noted, moreover, the detail in the description of the costumes of the Achaeans and the Trojans, their way of life, of the mythical characters, mixed with exceptional ease-of Everyday life and the incidence of gods and oracles in the vicissitudes of his life.
Also noteworthy is the prosody and melody macabre that the author used very gently to introduce a ritualistic view of the war.
We are, ultimately, to a novel that is read in one sitting, a passionate and exciting novel. Best of the Greek mythical story coupled with the inside story, the lives of two twin brothers who love and hate death. The great themes of literature excellently treated: love, passion, hatred, anger, jealousy, war and the gods. A sophisticated cocktail served well and seasoned to the taste of lovers of literature.
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