This one may begin like this:
I went to the nearby library the other day to finally put my hands on one of the classics spelled with a capital C – Don Quixote. Determined to disdain the numerous translations of Cervantes’ masterpiece, which have effectively prevented
The writing of a novel is a form of the loss of creative liberty…. In turn, the reviewing of books is a servitude still less noble. Of the writer one can at least say that he has enslaved himself – by the theme selected. The
Two is the beginning of the /beginning/.
James Matthew Barrie /slightly purified/
Yes, the publication date in parentheses is correct. I have dared to leave the safe zone of our beloved 80’s for the conceptual sake of presenting you two texts about two books which are radiant
Today we are going to dance. The party starts at noon sharp and is scheduled to end – if at all – well beyond each and every until of eternity.
In a vast realm of anecdotes, being nothing more than just another floor of a multi-story edifice called “Life” (not necessarily the top one, neither the floor per se – it is probably more like an alcove so obvious in its presence, that we no
My Dear Platinum-eyed Reader, if it is conceivable for the never-ending divinity of letters to corrupt or get desecrated? And is it possible to forget the story which never ends? I can already sense the shine of your platinum smile…
There is no denying that I would enter a vapid land of infertile thought and mundane
repetitiveness, were I to elaborate on a well-known fact that out of a countless plethora
of books, some are considered rare because of their bewildering exactitude and
profundity, while some others, also
Lautréamont once came up with a comparison of beauty – extremely prophetic for the shape of things to come in the field of art and literature of the XX century – which says that it is the chance encounter of a sewing machine and an
With the successful release of the film Hidden Figures and being that it’s the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 1 launch disaster, I figured that I’d start 2017 with a switch to non-fiction.
Pride in one’s art is usually encouraged, but what if one’s art supported a cause or a thought process that’s no longer in favor or that has even become denigrated?
Set in an undisclosed future, the book tells a story of Conrad Metcalf, a worn-out,
smart-mouthed private inquisitor in his early forties, who is very fond of snorting
one too many, while talking with women and shady-looking individuals.
There have been written many books which chief attempts as novels were to
encapsulate more or less overwhelming but, nevertheless, entrancing slices of a vast
and astonishing variety of incarnations of and inclinations towards (outwards and
inwards too!) the leitmotif of loneliness.