He appeared like a ghost would at my bedroom’s door. It was him, yes, with his face riddle with wrinkles, with his skin of a colour dark caramel, tired of waking up at dawn to work on the little piece of land that he has owned forever. It was him, there was no doubt, because we were still talking about that same piece of land that Eulalio said, back when we were together, that it would be mine, that it would be for both of us. He is making that promise again, fifty years later, and again, as it was before, it is my only hope for scape.
The women in Alice Munro’s book, ‘The Moons of Jupiter‘, are constantly looking for validation by men. Unfortunately, being born in a rich country like Canada, being professional and being smart, doesn’t relate with what they are constantly looking for: Love and acceptance from their partners. Most of the time, these women leave themselves behind, giving everything for only crumbs of love in return.
This book fell in my hands after Bill Gates recommended it as one of his favourite summer readings. At the beginning I thought it was a Spy’s thriller (one of my favourite genres) and that is why I ran out to buy it.
There is this shock when you realize that even before opening a book you have had a misconception. A Gentleman in Moscow was not about spies. Yes, you could feel them breathing in the main character’s neck from time to time but the story is not typical. As I was expecting the usual spy thriller, the book seemed slow and calm at the beginning. It was good that I decided to go up to the end, otherwise I would have missed a wonderful piece of literature.
This review has no spoilers. It is a posthumous honorary review to one of the best Spanish speaking authors that have ever existed!
Because it is not what he says. Although that too. It is more the way he says it. It is the description of the human emotions, that sometimes are so predatory. It is the analogy, the magical idealism, the use of the dialect of those years, the Spanish traditions of the XX Century that we thought were long gone.
This review has no spoilers, intelligent, interesting, sweet and cruel!
Every time I read a Literature Nobel it gives me the chills. What a way to construct sentences, organise dialogues, build a story. The characters of this book are beautiful and neat. They have been constructed like putting grain after grain of sand, adding a little bit of sparkling dust on the top.
This story is only a personal reflection of the US Presidential Election 2020 and what is coming ahead (Politics for dummies, including me)
November six 2020. Joe Biden has the biggest chance of being declared the 46th President of the United States. What a relief! But at the same time the waters still in movement. They are dark, sinister, and very present. Racism and misogynism are there, before visible and very soon into hiding, waiting for the best time to return. Their red eyes still being open in the dark.
Olga Tokarczuk does not need an introduction. Well, she is from Poland, Nobel Literature Prize 2018. That’s it. She has won several literature prices before. I understand why. She writes as if she were rolling over sentences in a beautiful song and each one of those sentences are attached to one another in perfection. But it was not this what left me with an open mouth. After several days and weeks of finishing ‘Flights’ my head is still spinning trying to guess how was she capable of put such simple stories, that could happen to anyone, in paper. Some of us have lived those stories, or at least one of the stories (exploration of the human body, migration, travel, languages, romance, life and death), but none of us would have been capable of telling them in such a sublime way.