Only earlier this week I mentioned that though it was in many ways painful and was taking some serious avoidance my month of no book buying hasn’t been quite as difficult as I thought it would. This is both thanks to ReadItSwapIt and the Library as I mentioned in the earlier post. I also said I had received some lovely parcels from some lovely publishers and would let you know what had arrived and so I thought as its a Saturday and book shopping is so tempting I would tease you with these delights that you could run out and buy; as none of you are doing anything as silly as a self imposed ban like I am hopefully!! First up some classics…

I have been making a concerted effort to read more classics and two publishers you cant go wrong with are Vintage Classics and Oxford University Press. When a rather large thud resounded through the building from the letterbox I came down and found ‘The Bronte Collection’ which includes Wuthering Heights, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Villette and Jane Eyre. I will admit I didnt love Wuthering Heights but after reading The Taste of Sorrow by Jude Morgan which is all about the sisters earlier this year I think a Bronte-Binge is on the way and the season after New Year seems perfect for this don’t you think? Might be a good Xmas pressie for relatives this Christmas maybe. (Hang on did I just mention the C word before December starts – I should be ashammed!) They also sent The Wapshot Chronicle by John Cheever and a huge collection of his letters. I havent read any Cheever but am thrilled about these two delights. Oxford University Press kindly sent the last of the Sensation Season novels (don’t cry they may be back again next year) in the form of Charles Dickens ‘Great Expectations’ along with George Moore’s ’Esther Waters’ which hit my attention waves on BBC Radio 4’s Open Book show when they looked at neglected classics. Be warned – the neglected classics are dangerous list of books which could lead to a huge spree.

From the people at Harper arrived a very diverse collection of books in one big parcel, the postman is not a fan of this address – his arms certainly aren’t, quite an eclectic mix indeed. Two of the books are from thier new imprint Blue Door ‘The Ballad of Trench Mouth Taggart’ (great title) by M Glenn Taylor and Mots d’Heures: Gousses, Rames by Luis d’Antin Van Rooten the latter can only be described by a post on their new blog. Sounds bizarre but will give it a go. They also sent me Snow Hill a thriller by Mark Sanderson, who has written a memoir so heartbreaking I have owned it for years and never able to read, Mark will be doing a Savidge Reads Grills very soon. Last but not least by any means as actually this is one of the books I have been most excited about in weeks (as you know I am having an Agatha Christie binge) is ‘Agatha Christie’s Secret Notebooks’ compiled by John Curran, I had to stop myself reading it as soon as it arrived. It’s a treat for a very lazy Sunday.

Now in a few weeks I will be doing a piece on the books to look forward to over the next year, you can see the predictions I made for this year here should you wish. Already some are coming through the letter box and Sceptre have done some very clever marketing with a collection of three books and three characters “you simply must meet in 2010″. They are called Nevis Gow, Lindiwe Bishop and Jack Rosenblum and I shall tell you more about them in the forthcoming weeks. I just love how they have packaged it all, no titles or authors on the cover, intriguing.  Books already out arrived too and they are The Sorrows of an American by Siri Hustvedt, which I think has a stunning cover, and Incendiary by Chris Cleave and you all know how I loved The Other Hand.

Another massive parcel has arrived from Orion. I have succumbed to the latest in the Twilight Saga and it seems more Vampire delights await me with the first two of Charlaine Harris’ series about Sookie Stackhouse (great name) which have become the incredibly successful True Blood tv series. I haven’t heard much on the blogosphere on these but am very much intrigued by them as have seen tonnes on the tube.  The final tome that you can see is one thats not out until June next year but I have been priviledged enough to be asjed to take a very early look at. ‘The Passage’ by Justin Cronin is massive, comes with very little, though intriguing blurb and has already had the film rites bought by Ridley Scott, more on that soon too as I think this is going to be huge (and not just in size) next year. And finally…

It’s always nice when a publisher emails you be they big or small. I have to admit I hadn’t heard too much about Honno Press when they emailed me asking if they could send me a catalogue. Honno Press is an independent publisher of Welsh Women’s fiction (so a bit like a welsh version of Persephone if you are a fan) and they have a wonderful selection of books, they also go the extra mile as they went through my blog and picked three books they thought I would love. A welsh sensation novel ‘A Burglary’ by Amy Dillwyn, a book where “each generation looks back into the tragic past, loves, secrets and lies are hauled into the open with surprising consequences for all” in ‘Hector’s Talent for Miracles’ by Kitty Harri and finally a collection of witty, wry and sharply observed stories about women with ‘Stranger Within The Gates’ by Bertha Thomas. Sounds like they have got me spot on!!!

Blimey. Now over to you… are Bronte’s and other classics the perfect pressies for Christmas and reading as Spring… erm… springs up? Who has read the Charlaine Harris books, are they like Twilight? Who has tried Honno Press and what did you think?  What will you be curling up with this weekend? What books have you accumulated of late?

by Esmeralda Montero

Las pasiones humanas siempre han sido motivo de novelas, historias, y las más grandes tragedias épicas. Y es que la capacidad de amar, odiar, y perdonar a la vez son los signos mas notables de la humanidad.

Cumbres Borrascosas es una novela ambientada en un bello lugar de Inglaterra. Sus personajes  ponen de manifiesto las más bajas y nobles pasiones humanas, la capacidad de descripción y la exquisita narrativa de Emily Brontë nos llevan por una deliciosa aventura literaria.

La ambición desmedida y una venganza cruel, la manipulación de la que son capaces los seres humanos se ven dignamente representadas  a lo largo de esta magnifica obra.

Un amor obsesivo y enfermizo que consumió a todo aquel que lo sintió, es la génesis de la que descolla la trama principal.

Romántica, violenta, arrebatadora, Cumbres Borrascosas es la experiencia que no debes perderte en tu camino hacia el lector maduro que debes ser.

Matéria publicada no Caderno 2 do jornal O Estado de São Paulo no dia 14 de novembro de 2009, na página D4

Juventude – Comportamento

Sexo e sangue? Não, é apenas amor

Em essência, o sucesso retumbante da série “Crepúsculo” é mais um caso de romantismo nos moldes de Romeu e Julieta

Luiz Carlos Merten

Quem já leu “Lua Nova”, o segundo livro da saga “Crepúsculo”, sabe que nas últimas páginas do livro Edward e Bella, que formam o casal protagonista, discutem por que ela está lendo “O Morro dos Ventos Uivantes”, de Emily Bronte. O livro é um dos clássicos da literatura inglesa, mas Edward contesta que o casal de amantes, Heathcliff e Catherine, seja colocado no mesmo plano de Romeu e Julieta e Elizabeth e Darcy (de “Orgulho e Preconceito”), como representações do romantismo. Edward contesta Bella, dizendo que a história de “O Morro dos Ventos Uivantes” é de ódio, não é amor.

O leitor jovem pode nem prestar muita atenção no que Edward e Bella dizem, mas quem está falando ali, naquele momento, não é só o rapaz, mas a própria escritora Stephenie Meyer. Formada em literatura inglesa, ela põe ali um toque pessoal, e quem sabe uma pitada de polêmica, ou então está só querendo provar, para si mesma e para os outros, que sabe das coisas. Stephenie é hoje uma das 100 personalidades mais influentes do mundo, e isso só por causa da saga “Crepúsculo”. Já virou lenda urbana a história sobre como ela teve um pesadelo, acordou, foi correndo para seu computador e começou a esboçar a história da garota de classe média que se sente atraída por seu colega, e ele é um vampiro.

Vampiros de classe média, um tento assépticos? Antônio Gonçalves Filho disseca nesta página (abaixo) o que isso representa de mudança em relação à grande tradição do gênero. Mas a verdade é que toda essa devoção do público exige investigação. O primeiro livro, e até o filme, podem ter sido espontaneamente descobertos pelo público. Agora já tem marketing pesado em cima. Roberta Augusto, da empresa Summit, estima que “Lua Nova” poderá mais do que duplicar o público de “Crepúsculo” nos cinemas brasileiros, atingindo 7,5 milhões de espectadores. O investimento está sendo pesado para garantir que isso ocorra e a TV tem sido aliada, não só a rede Telecine.

Garotas sonham mesmo é com beijo de Robert, com todo risco que significa

A Globo fez um concurso, “O Desafio do Vampiro”, cujo desfecho teve pico de audiência dentro do Fantástico, dia 1º. O sucesso se reflete na venda antecipada, que atingiu 95 mil ingressos na rede Cinemark, bem mais do que o fenômeno “Harry Potter”. Lautner é mero coadjuvante em “Crepúsculo”, hoje à noite, na TV paga. Em “Lua Nova”, Pattison é herói que quase não se vê. Lautner – o lobisomem – cresce em cena. O próprio ator passou por uma transformação.

Ele conta que quase foi demitido da produção, mas conseguiu convencer o diretor Chris Weitz que poderia ganhar massa física, e rapidamente. Os garotos, na fase pré-lobisomens, passam pelo filme com barrigas tanquinhos e bíceps desenvolvidos, quase sempre sem camisa. Em tempos de Mix Brasil, a produção não se arrisca a desperdiçar o potencial de atração para um público, digamos, alternativo. Lautner, apesar do físico sagrado, é meio garotão. Kristen é mais reflexiva. Um pouco para o companheiro de elenco, um pouco para o repórter, ela comenta a agitação na frente do hotel, a correria dos fãs.

“Temos a sorte de estar aqui, e tudo isso é maravilhoso, mas a série é maior que nós e outros atores poderiam estar provocando a mesma reação. O público não está aqui porque eu sou Bella e Taylor (Lautner) é Jacob. Talvez Robert (Pattison) seja o mais carismático de nós todos, mas até ele acha maluco que tenha ido dormir um dia anônimo e acordado uma celebridade por causa de um vampiro que interpreta num filme de Hollywood”. O Repórter tenta puxar o assunto para a iconografia tradicional do gênero. Vampiros são sensuais, voam, o ato de sugar o sangue a vida eterna mexem com fantasias profundas. Nada disso é relevante aqui. O que Stephenie (Meyer) reinventou, o que nós estamos reinventando aqui é “Romeu e Julieta”. Vá lá foram e pergunte para aquelas garotas. Todas gostariam que Robert (Pattison) aparecesse e as beijasse, com todo o risco que isso implica. Só isso”. O romance, portanto, predomina sobre a perseverança. O sucesso da série é um sinal dos tempos.

Do you ever feel like everybody else must be living a way more exciting life than you?  It was bad enough when it was just friends and coworkers who always seemed to have crazy stories of their adventures to share, but now I have an entire blogosphere of people talking about all the wonderful, amazing and astonishing ways they spend their time.

And don’t other people always seem to have an awful lot more time in their day?

During the week, my life pretty much consists of sleeping, having a couple of meals, working and getting stuff ready for the next day. Weekends are largely taken up with household chores and running around doing errands. If I’m lucky I get to squeeze a bit of socializing in there. Sometimes the socializing has to be done in conjunction with chores and errands. (i.e.: “Hey wanna come over for dinner? I have to cook for the kid anyway and to work up an appetite you can lift the furniture so I can vacuum under it!!”)

 After my exhausting weekend, I go read some blogs and find out other people are having parties every weekend or going to parties every weekend or hanging out in clubs on weeknights, going to concerts, plays, galleries, festivals and other events. Or they’re busy saving the world by going to protest marches or knitting sweaters for the homeless. Some even have time to write books, paint pictures, play in bands, sing in choirs, perform with mime troupes,  take classes or build stuff.

And then there are the mommy bloggers who not only have a household to maintain and kids to raise, but also seem to find time to have home businesses, chair committees, bake pies, have piles of fun with their hubbies and extended families — and still find time to blog!

And what about those bloggers who are always talking about the trips they’re taking?  Some people are off on one sort of vacation or other 4 or 5 times a year. A weekend in New York, a couple of weeks in Rome, a few days in the Caribbean, a week at the cottage, business trips to “the coast” and a quick trip or two out of town in between —  just to unwind.

In case you haven’t noticed, I almost never blog about how I spend my time. Because … well…who cares?  Would anyone want to read about how I tried to get into my workplace with my MetroPass instead of my building access card this morning? There I was wondering why the door wasn’t opening, when “D’uh!” It hit me! Har har har. I was using the wrong card. Ah me oh my. Poor dopey me. Did the Commissionaire and I ever have a chuckle about that one. Yup. And what a great blog post that would have made!

See? I often feel like poor old Emily Bronte who lived almost her entire life in the same house in which she was born. She rarely spoke to anyone outside her immediate family. Went to school only for a brief stint.  Lived a short, dull life and yet managed to produce a novel. And not even a novel about how lame and boring her life was – nope. She produced a pretty freakin’ amazing novel, actually.

(Not that I’m comparing myself to Emily Bronte in the literary sense, [not even a little bit,  because she's one of my literary heroes]  just in the writing-stuff-in-an-excitement-vacuum sense)

So, anyway, now you know. That’s why my blog posts are about a lot of random stuff instead of about what I’m doing. But please, ya’ll, keep writing about your own raucously zany lives so I can live a raucously zany life vicariously, through you.

And if you’ve never read Wuthering Heights, why not give it a whirl?

[Today's post is by John H. Parker, co-author of the newly released book, Abide With Me, published by New Leaf Press. This account is from the travels of John and his co-author/photographer, Paul Seawright.]

An abandoned factory by a now-clean stream is about as good a symbol of the former days of Hebden Bridge [England] as you’ll find, I suppose. It looks like something out of Dickens: monotonous rows of windows that were inserted, not for aesthetics, but for light enough for workers to do their equally monotonous jobs. This is Yorkshire, where the skies are gray and the moors are bleak and Emily Bronte wrote her morose Wuthering Heights.

Abandoned factory in Hebden Bridge

Fortunately, I guess, the artists came over the last decade or two, so now this factory town is something of an art haven. Up the hill is Wainsgate Church, where John Fawcett was the preacher when he wrote “Blest Be the Tie.” You probably know the story, and I’ll talk about that in another blog. But for now, let’s be aware that not all English hymns were written around green pastures dotted by sheep. It’s kind of bleak here, but a preacher came to bring hope and good news.

“Qual seria o sentido de eu ter sido criada, se estivesse contida apenas em mim mesma? Os grandes desgostos que tive foram os desgostos de Heathcliff, e eu senti cada um deles desde o início:o que me faz viver é ele. Se tudo o mais acabasse e ele permanecesse, eu continuaria a existir; e se tudo o mais permanecesse e ele fosse aniquilado, eu não me sentiria mais parte do universo.”

Emily Bronte.”Morro dos ventos uivantes”.

I can’t find a book to read. I’m not saying that a book does not exist in the world to entertain me, or that every book in circulation-past or present- is a complete load of nonsense and not worth my time or effort to endure such a horrendous creation. I just cannot find one. Waterstones offer a magical book finder to suit my tastes, Borders tell me they can provide such a similar service that I will actually warm to their psychic finder and as a result have to seek therapy for my dysfunctional attachment to a computer generated system tool that ‘knows me better than any man can’. I cannot find a book that can hold my concentration for more than fifty pages. Now, I’m a literature graduate, I should be able to subject myself to pretty much anything; to read a book that isn’t to your literary taste is top skill numero uno for any budding english student. So either the books are getting worse or my patience as a result of years of reading drivel is now wearing thin. I scour the media for those all-important ‘must reads’ lists, I pick at random at the library, and then resort to the classics to guide me into a sure-fire way to sit through a story line that can hold its own. This drew me to 1, question my complete inability to sit in one place for more than two minutes as a result of my new role as entertainer/carer/cleaner/launderette attendent/cook (the umbrella term being ‘parent’), but 2, consider the concept of the perfect book. I appreciate that I could go all night about the various factors to entertaining us through the written word, but I don’t rate myself that highly that I truly believe I’m capable of that argument. The last time I checked I hadn’t read every book on the planet or entered the mind of not only every author but every reader to be able to dictate what every one should and shouldn’t be reading. I just find it bemusing that my favourite books are not essentially the books I cherish and adore for content or story in such a direct manner, but that instead I preach to people about the books that have managed to remain in my memory- there’s limited space in there- but that have gained my respect for getting me to sit down and read them. Beyond that, to want to pick them back up after putting them down the previous night. And so, while I appreciate to the strangers of you out there you may not agree with my point (be it gospel, and always correct might I add), I’d like to offer up my list of must-reads, for if they fail to captivate you and move you to tears or other suchlike frantic emotion that people get a kick out of when reading, then you’ll get to the end at least. I like a book with a bit of balls, and I think that these books stand out from the rest simply because they lack the ability to be pigeon holed into ‘boring’, ‘girly’, ‘manly’, ’science-y’ and other such intellectual categories that i create in my teeny weeny incy wincy mind. Enjoy. I have justified my choices with very, VERY good reasons.

Isabel Allende: The Infinite Plan

This is the longest book on the planet. Metaphorically, of course. I enjoy the teaching of diversity, and Allende doesn’t try to do what most authors insist upon, which is writing for the sake of writing. each word as a purpose, and as a result you don’t have to listen to any Dicken-esque around the houses story-telling, ’she looked up as the window sill as he spoke, where she noticed the bric-a-brac amongst a green vase her mother once owned, and a picture frame dating back to the renaissance period….’ shut up Charles, enough already. What the hell is he talking about, never mind the damn window sill.

Chocolat: Joanne Harris

The book exudes feelings, and not just emotions but the feeling of the situation; the atmosphere, the tension, the cheeky humour. If chocolate were a conscious stream of thought, it would be this book. Lush stuff. And not what I expected being a complete chick-flick-phobe. Urgh.

A Thousand Acres: Jane Smiley

Fantastic story about the ‘better left unsaid’ habit of the family unit. You’re not just a reader of events, you’re thrown into the character’s mind to read in between the lines time and time again as they try to ignore the elephant in the room. Oh, and it won the Pulitzer Prize and is a recreation of Willy’s King Lear so you can pass for learned if you’re on the bus.

Nathanael West: The Day of the Locust

The  most confusing book I ever read. I think I was stupider when I first picked it up, I get it now….. see it as a forecast of Britney Spears’ pap circus, but completely more intelligent than a media frenzy breaking driving laws in Los Angeles.  They saw it coming….

The Almost Moon: Alice Sebold

Forget Alive- fantastic but painful, and The Lovely Bones- fantastic but obvious. This is Sebold’s best piece yet, mainly due to the fact that she wrote The Lovely Bones to elevate her fame as a writer (when quite clearly every critic knew it was a run of the mill sentimental, let’s-involve-children-to-make-it-sad, overly emotional roadkill of a book) and that left her free to finally write something credible to her now ginormous audience. And let’s face it, every girl dreams of killing her mother at one point or another.

Daphne Du Maurier: Rebecca

Obvious but awesome. I don’t really give a monkeys if anyone dares to state that the spookily shivery ambience created in this novel exists in any other book, Du Maurier nails it and if this is the first eiry book you pick up, all others will fail to match up.

Sally Brampton: Shoot the Damn Dog

The last book I managed to sit through- I’m currently on page thirty four of Captain Correlli’s Mandolin and pissed off that I’m going to get a library fine for something that cannot hold my mental drive for more than eight minutes at a time. Brampton is the best female writer I have come accross in terms of integrity; she remains honest and raw but at the same time maintains a humour that i assume is essentially to being a crazy person. Kudos…

Dave Eggers: A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius

Now I know this has taken America by storm, and many critics either applaude Eggers or find him too obvious, but this qutobiography is the most amazing piece of writing I have ever picked up. Its not the content that I am particularly drawn to, but the technical writing style that Eggers adopts. It’s as though you are transported to a stand up comedy club, and Eggers is a hack in a worn down suit with a cigar in one hand, and scotch in the other. His capability to write as he thinks is quite possibly the most aspirational quality to his writing, and i would like to clap along with the nice critics and stamp on the mean ones’ heads. Nasty critics. Go learn to write like this.

Roma Ligocka: the Girl in the Red Coat

For someone interested in the effects of historical events, but doesn’t want to read an elaborate fabrication of the holocaust, this is a perfect read. Ligocka tells it as it was, with affection and brutal candour. If I’m going to have an insight into an event that hopefully I will never be able to witness first-hand, I want the depiction to be as accurate and sincere as possible.

Emily Bronte: Wuthering Heights

Come on, I don’t even need to type here. If you can find me another crazy Heathcliff in literature, then game on.

Questo romanzo racconta la storia di un grande amore, quello di Heathcliff e Catherine che a causa delle incomprensioni non riescono a stare insieme. Tutti e due sposano persone che non amano ma disprezzano; tutto nasce per una discussione a proposito di Heathcliff tra Catherine e la badante. Heathcliff sente dire da Catherine che lei non lo sopporta, lo odia; lui non sente la fine della discussione per il troppo dolore, non sentendo così che Catherine nonostante tutto lo ama con tutto il cuore. Riusciranno a dirsi ciò che prova l’uno per l’altra solo quando Catherine è in punto di morte.

Questo libro mi ha fatto soffrire le pene dell’inferno sono stata in bilico fino all’ultimo. Al giorno d’oggi incomprensioni del genere esistono di meno, perché le persone si relazionano in modo diverso, forse più aperto, quindi si risolvono più facilmente, anche se a volte l’orgoglio rovina tutto; e a volte non si può niente contro l’amore.

Penso che ogni ragazza vorrebbe provare un amore così profondo e puro; anche se è difficile sopportare il peso di nasconderlo fino alla morte come ha fatto Catherine. Forse se Heathcliff non fosse stato così orgoglioso e Catherine avesse lasciato perdere Edgar e avesse fatto capire di più i suoi sentimenti, avrebbero vissuto meglio tutti quanti.

Leggendo questo romanzo, anche  a me, come al narratore, il signor Locwood , sarebbe piaciuto visitare la Tempestosa, ovvero la tenuta situata nello Yorkshire dove il susseguirsi di situazioni strane e lontane dalla nostra mentalità, raccontate in continui flashback, rendono questa storia interessante e appassionante.

I due protagonisti principali sono Heatcliff e Catherine, i quali sono cresciuti assieme nella tenuta la Tempestosa, e  che, con il tempo, seppur in modo diverso, condividono le stesse e esperienze e gli stessi sentimenti. Ma il loro amore viene ostacolato. Heatcliff  sparisce, e dopo diversi anni, al suo ritorno scopre che, Catherine ha sposato Edgar Linton, personaggio aristocratico. La rabbia di Heatcliff è incontrollabile, perciò cercherà di riconquistare  la sua vecchia  fiamma amorosa e di riappropriarsi della tenuta. Purtroppo Catherine muore e dopo questo brutto episodio Heatcliff  farà di tutto per rendere complicata la vita degli altri personaggi.

Le vicende scorrono in modo drammatico, con colpi di scena, comportamenti invidiosi e contradditori tra i personaggi, causati dalla gelosia.

Si tratta di un romanzo che, a parere mio, suscita forti emozioni e sentimenti anche dal punto di vista passionale. Inoltre, nella stessa storia l’Amore e l’Odio convivono, sconvolgendo completamente l’animo dei personaggi, ma permettono al lettore di immedesimarsi  in questa tempesta di forti sentimenti.

Alice De Bernard

Spellbound

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending.
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

Emily Bronté

Wuthering Heights is, above all else, a novel about obsession.  Perhaps most famous amongst adolescents as “Bella and Edward’s favorite book” it preceded Twilight fame by being an intensely original work for its prose and story.  Catherine and Heathcliff are two of the least sympathetic protagonists I’ve ever come across in literature while never earning the distinction of villains.  They are two individuals whom are raised together and find themselves having an affection that goes far deeper, far more intimate than the sibling one a reader might perhaps expect.

Heathcliff -dark, rugged, and an orphan- is rescued from the streets of Liverpool by Catherine’s father and brought to Wuthering Heights to be raised along side the two other children; Hindley and Catherine.  Quickly and strangely Catherine and Heathcliff form a bond- one which grows more intense with time and the onset of the terror Hindley, lord of the manor since their father’s death, unleashes upon him.  It is demonstrated to us initially through a diary passage:

“How little did I dream that Hindley could ever make me cry so!” she wrote.  “My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow; and still I can’t give over.  Poor Heathcliff!  Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won’t let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders.  He has been blaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place-”

Catherine is a headstrong child whom never shies from doing whatever it is she prefers doing, so long as she could do most of it in Heathcliff’s presence.  Forever traipsing around together in the out of doors her connection, her devotion is always readily on display.  One fateful day she injures herself and ends up having to stay with another family, the Lintons.  They have a boy close to her in age whom also happens to be relatively wealthy, fair, learned and quite enamored with Catherine.

It is here where the dark story gets still darker.  The tale is decidedly Gothic and, strangely, not particularly tragic.  The protagonists, as I mentioned before, are more despicable than not- hardly ever did I root for them if even I did once- and still I came to the end and thought, “Wow, that was brilliant, moving!”  It is, perhaps, the darkest love story you’ll ever read and I can assure you it’s completely worth staying on until the end.

The structure of this piece is incredibly interesting and original, just as the dark and haunting material itself was for the time (still is, I think).  Not done in the classic third person narrative (Witch of Cologne), protagonist point of view (Prince of Tides), or even fake memoir style (Jane Eyre) but is instead told through the eyes of a servant, whom is recounting the story to her master per his own request.  It is seamlessly done and a mark of tremendous talent that such a complex notion was so completely adhered to.  Moments where the servant stops her story telling are clear and defined and serve to remind the reader from whose point of view we’re really seeing the story- the master, Mr. Lockwood.  For we hear the words the servant has to offer, but we get to feel what the lord’s view is.

Another week over-and I am so many days nearer health, and spring!  I have now heard all my neighbour’s history, at different sittings, as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations.  I’ll continue it in her own words, only a little condensed.  She is, on the whole, a very fair narrator, and I don’t think I could improve her style.

Wuthering Heights is a work that has stayed its course through time.  The language, not as sophisticated or flowing as Jane Eyre, is still quite remarkable and good.  If you have not read this tale, or only read it in the days of high school required reading, I would heartily encourage you to give it a (another) shot.

Where has 2009 gone? It’s already November and looking at my reading list, I’ve only finished 41 books, which is a paltry sum when compared to last year’s 73, which is still miserable compared to people who read 2 or 3 books a week. I blame it partly for the shorter commute which has reduced my free time to read. I should not be complaining about it because it is no fun to be stuck in a jam for hours on end despite having a book with me. The incessant buzz from the television, yes the horrible mobile tv, especially in the evenings is enough to drive anyone crazy. True, I can alway zone out with my iPod (possibly the greatest invention of all time), but sometimes the sound from the telly overpowers the head phones and noise cancellation head phones are out of my league.

Should I buck up and read like mad for the next month and a half. True there will be a two week break over Christmas and the New Year, but that will be filled with hours of lazing around at home, playing with a dog, eating, and hopefully popping out to meet up with people. Or maybe I should enjoy the pace that I’m proceeding at currently, thanks to some wonderful picks from New York Reviews Books Classics. (Yes I’m a sucker for nicely packaged books, hence the Neil Gaiman splurge, which I must admit makes the whole Sandman experience much better.) But if I don’t rush off and read like mad, my opportunity to read will be dramatically reduced next year as my courses begin. Ah, the dilemma.

Potential reads over the next month and a half include the following:

1) Coraline and Other Stories by Neil Gaiman

2) Hard Rain Falling by Don Carpenter

3) The Complete Fiction by Francis Wyndham

4) A High Wind in Jamaica by Richard Hughes

5) Butcher’s Crossing by John Williams

6) American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis (gotta read it to return it)

7) A Malayan Trilogy by Anthony Burgess (gotta finish this one)

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

9) Colony by Hugo Wilcken

10) Number 9 Dream by David Mitchell (in anticipation of his new work in 2010)

I think there will be more as the weeks past, but I think 10 is a good starting point. If I’m feeling bold I might try and tackle Anna Karenina over the holidays. Another other suggestions?

La storia parla di due ragazzi, Catherine e Heatcliff, che hanno condiviso le stesse esperienze e gli stessi sentimenti, pure se in modo diverso. Lei come figlia di un padre che, profondamente addolorato per la morte della moglie, è ormai diventato un alcolista; lui, un trovatello raccolto per caso in un giorno di tempesta, sempre maltrattato e umiliato.

Catherine, attirata dalla vita aristocratica si reca alla Grange, la tenuta dei vicini, per qualche tempo, per sposare infine Edgar Linton, mentre  Heatcliff sparisce. Ma torna alla Tempestosa con un piano ben preciso: ritrovare Catherine e riuscire ad appropriarsi della tenuta del patrigno per poterle stare vicino.

Purtroppo Catherine morirà mentre darà alla luce la piccola Cathy. La reazione di Heatcliff è preoccupante al punto di maledire l’amata.

La vicenda ora assume una piega tragica. Heatcliff fa di tutto per rendere la vita difficile agli altri. Sposa la sorella di Edgar, Isabella, per il solo piacere di farlo, la tortura in modo così brutale da farla fuggire a Londra, dove nascerà il piccolo Linton. Gli anni trascorrono veloci, il figlio di Isabella, deve recarsi a vivere col padre che ne fa strumento delle sue manipolazioni. Linton  sposerà Cathy, figlia di Catherine, molto legata al padre il quale è ormai in punto di morte; in tal modo erediterà la tenuta dei Linton e compirà la sua vendetta.

I suoi piani procedono: Cathy soffre la morte del padre e, abbandonata anche dal marito, trascorre i suoi giorni segregata nella Tempestosa; inoltre le è vietato di avvicinarsi ad Heatcliff  (il quale odia la sua somiglianza  con l’amata). Ma a questo punto Cathy comincia a provare interesse per Hadely, suo cugino, il quale, molto tempo prima, aveva tentato di avvicinare la ragazza, non avendo successo.

Alla fine comunque i due giovani riusciranno a comprendersi ed amarsi senza essere ostacolati da Heatcliff. Questo infatti si lascerà morire lentamente, accompagnato dalla sua ossessione.

Questo è un romanzo singolare e unico nel suo genere, un po’ per la sua trama contorta e un po’ per i messaggi che contiene; non mancano intrighi, colpi di scena, forti sensazioni, sentimenti appassionati. Il linguaggio è, a volte, crudo ma interessante.
E poi… Heathcliff! Introverso, selvaggio, ma soprattutto ardente e passionale. E’ stato per me un colpo di fulmine!!! A me “Cime tempestose” è piaciuto perché mi ha suscitato molte emozioni che me l’hanno reso indimenticabile. Mi ha coinvolto, facendomi quasi credere di essere uno dei personaggi. E’ un libro che ho letto tutto d’un fiato e ho riletto più volte… e ogni volta riesce sempre a farmi battere forte il cuore.

Libro bellissimo e appassionante.

Margherita Scorzelli

“Cime tempestose” racconta una storia di intrighi e di amori: da una parte Heatcliff e dall’altra Catherine, i due protagonisti di un amore vicendevole, diviso dall’ambizione ad una vita migliore. I due sono cresciuti assieme, in un forte legame, un amore sano che in seguito porterà alla distruzione, all’infelicità.

L’amore che Heatcliff prova per Catherine lo spinge  alla  nascita di un puro odio nei confronti del marito di lei, Edgar Linton, della tenuta Grange. Si susseguono una serie di intrighi e segreti nascosti con la sparizione temporanea di Heatcliff dalla “Tempestosa”. Al suo ritorno, l’unico pensiero era quello di riconquistare la sua amata, ma  senza successo: la donna era morta dando alla luce la figlia. Heatcliff ripromette a se stesso di rovinare la vita a tutti, per quanto più gli fosse possibile, anche alla stessa figlia dell’amata; forse soprattutto perchè le ricordava troppo la madre; ma alla fine scivola nella pazzia e nella tristezza di una vita sprecata, persa.

Leggere questo libro ha fatto nascere in me un’angoscia incredibile, per quanto in alcuni punti ci si ritrovi immersi in una dolcezza magnifica, ma la tragica fine di quest’uomo e la triste pazzia in cui è scivolato sono sicuramente inquietanti.

Alessia Bauducco

Emily Brontë
Born: 30 July 1818
Died: 19 December 1848
Work: Poetry and Wuthering Heights
The fifth of six children. Emily lived just a year after Wuthering Heights was published

Charlotte Brontë
Born: 21 April 1816
Died: 31 March 1855
Work: Poetry and several novels including the classic Jane Eyre
She died just nine months after her marriage. Was he that bad…

Branwell Brontë
Born: 26 June 1817
Died: 24 September 1848
Work: Poetry and Portrait Painter
Branwell’s image, part of  ‘The Pillar Portrait’ (above) but painted over, is now becoming visible again (due to his faulty mixing of paint)

These are the facts. But what do we really know?

THE TRIAL OF THE BRONTES

Emily Brontë’s far from home
She’s got a hat and a coat and a mobile phone
And a laptop – to write books on
And ribbons of steel in her hair
oh, Emily

Charlotte Brontë’s washing her hair
She’s got a tap and a sink and a kitchen chair
And she waits for Emily to return
And while she waits, she writes
- with a pen
why, Charlotte

Old man Branwell wants to be read
But he’s not really old ‘cos he’s already dead
And steals ideas from the sisters of time
And while he thieves, he smiles
for there’s fire in his heart
no! Branwell

The tourists of Haworth search for their own
Passing through time but still all alone
Assumptions, abstractions, not understood
Judged without knowing – If only they could

say how it really was

***

Anne Brontë, the other sister who lived to adulthood, died on 28 May 1849.

Charlotte lost three siblings in just eight months.
This is a fact. But what do we really know?

Commentary

The Brontës have always been favourites of mine, but I wonder about their place in history. Branded and hyped, their very real gifts are in danger of being lost.

We should focus on the baby, not the bathwater.

The Brontës have much to teach us if we get beyond the surface. They had difficult lives and their achievements, although all the more remarkable for that, are very much a function of the isolated and somewhat terrible world in which they lived. What price creativity?

Would you like to have lived their lives? And what do we really know about what went on in their hearts?

In this piece I’ve tried to subvert the story a little, bringing Emily into the modern world, but turning her into her antithesis – in reality it would have been Charlotte who had the mobile phone and the laptop – she was the more pragmatic of the two.

As for the ribbons of steel in Emily’s hair, I do see Emily as more single minded – this was reflected in both her life and work, and was her weakness as well as her strength. Charlotte’s strength was her persistence – her willingness to plough on, little by little, day by day. Pragmatism again.

Ribbons of steel is a crucial phrase in the poem. Why? Because Emily was steely, because it conjures up the purity, the essence, the beauty of her. And I liked the phrase and so included it. That, perhaps, is my weakness.

I’m not sure we should sacrifice art for beauty. But we do.

The Brontës didn’t have that choice.

Brontë Parsonage Museum & Brontë Society

© Ellie Stevenson, 2009

No se pierdan mañana a las 19 Las Damas y Los Vagabundos, en FM Patricios 95.5.

El tema de la semana será la universidad pública y para eso hablaremos con el director de la carrera de Sociología de la UBA, Lucas Rubinich.

Tendremos columnas estrellas: una sobre el famoso Dr.House y otra sobre la obra literaria de Emily Bronté, bien distintas pero interesantísimas!, o no?

Llámennos, que como siempre sortearemos entradas para el teatro al 4912-6666 o 4911-6657.

Saludos,
Camila Ahumada,
Laura Brizuela,
Mariana Moriello y
Laura Reschigna

Para escuchar por Internet www.fm955.com.ar
Para escuchar programas anteriores www.damasyvagabundos.wordpress.com

Penquin’s Popular Classics series are ideal for travellers. Consisting of  classic novels (which are so much better than a lot of the dirge hanging around hostel bookswap shelves – Andy McNab anyone?) condensed into a couple of hundred pages and sold for £2 at bookstores all over the world.

Offering a chance to catch up with the reading you never got time for back home (that’s what 17 hour bus journeys were designed for, right?),  these  cute volume, that just  slip  into your backpack,  really are the ideal for enthuastic travellers.

On various trips I have read Bram Stoker’s Dracula (picked up from Istanbul International Airport) and Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (bought in Kiev), and we are keeping our eyes open for the many other titles in the series (I’ve got my fingers crossed for a bit of Wilde or Poe) .

The catch? Well for £2 you don’t get a cover design, the paper is as cheap as paper gets and the binding tends to fall apart after a couple of  reads.

A volte si celano agli sguardi altrui i propri dolori. Emily Brontë esprime ciò con sobria ma efficace intensità in questa sua poesia.

Lei si asciugò le lacrime e gli altri sorrisero
vedendo che il suo viso riprendeva colore
e ignoravano non potevano conoscere
la pena che traboccava dal suo cuore

Con lo sguardo dolce e la voce lieta
ogni giorno con gli occhi ridenti
come potevano indovinare che nella notte solitaria
trascorreva il suo tempo piangendo

(Tratta da: Anne, Charlotte, Emily Brontë, Poesie, Milano, Oscar Mondadori, ed. del 2004)

Hmmmm…So I thought and I thought, I pondered by my bedside, I thought of it in my sleep and I reached something – at last! My top 10 Villains in Fictions. The ones that I would love to hate and love their writers for sketching them so brilliantly that they still manage to rouse goosebumps on my flesh when I re-read them..Brilliant I say…Here are my favourites:

1. Uriah Heep(David Copperfield): Well well well, he is the top of the tops. The wicked Uriah Heep of David Copperfield. The insincerity of this character is spread throughout the book. He is the epitome of sheer evil. Read this one!

2. Tom Ripley(The Talented Mr. Ripley): It is strange however I would love to go to bed with Tom Ripley. After all one doesn’t really know whether this villain is gay or straight. His crimes. His mind. The plots he schemes is beyond everyone. And yet somewhere down the line he is aware that he will get caught someday for what he has done.

3. Heathcliff(Wuthering Heights): I would not call this one a villain, but then again, what would you call a person who drives his loved one to madness? What would you call someone who loves with such a vengeance that he wants to destroy everything in his wake? You would but call him a villain, wouldn’t you?

4. Lord Voldermort (Harry Potter Series): Lord Voldermort is real. He is insecure. He wants to be liked by all. He wants to overpower. He is the trueblue villain of the times gone by and Rowling has managed just fine with him.

5. Count Dracula (Dracula): An entire book dedicated to the blood-sucking, enticing vampire. Before Twilight emerged, way before there was this Scandinavian imaginary being that was many a cause of people’s sleepless nights. Including mine – though mine came later as well with Keanu Reeve’s Dracula.

6. Hannibal Lecter (The Silence of the Lambs): The hissing. The good taste for flesh. The maneater Mr. Lecter is quite a monster created by Mr. Harris. Dark and brooding. He knows what to plan and what to do with his time. Chills the spine everytime!

7. The Devil (The Master and Margarita): The devil decides to take a walk in Russia and there is but after all, hell breaking loose. Literally. Moscow is the devil’s new abode.

8. Humbert (Lolita): No matter what anyone says, to me Humbert is a villain. Probably the greatest of them all. Yes he was a pedophile. May be he loved the child, however doing what he did!! Attrocious!

9. Sauron (The Lord of the Rings): White haired, withering, full of strength, Sauron will not stop at anything to get the ring to rule them all.

10. Sher Khan (The Jungle Books): And my personal favourite, the tiger himself..Sher Khan. The one who still manages to instill fear in kids! Brilliant I say!

Last but not the least. For every anti-hero or villain ever created, you made it possible for the concept of heroes to come alive.

I en cigarkasse midt på Malmö Centralstation ligger PocketShop, en appetitlig paperback-boghandel, der absolut er et besøg værd, hvis man skulle komme forbi de kanter. I øjeblikket, hvor den svenske krone er så lav i forhold til den danske, kan man oven i købet gøre en god handel. Butikken gør sig primært i svensk litteratur (eller bøger oversat til svensk), men har tillige et glimrende udvalg af originale engelsksprogede titler, heriblandt mange helt dugfriske udgivelser. Det er sandelig noget andet end Hovedbanegårdens kulturelle udbud, der vel mest består i Axel Music og et dvd-discountmarked.

Jeg endte med at investere i Mark Oliver Everetts – bedre kendt som frontmanden ‘E’ fra den alternative rockgruppe Eels -skæve selvbiografi Things the Grandchildren Should Know foruden en diger biografi om Led Zeppelin. Selvom jeg begrænsede mig til disse to indkøb i denne omgang var der masser af andre fristelser på hylderne. Således fik jeg øje på en spritny Penguin-udgave af Emily Brontës Wuthering Heights, hvis betagende cover-illustration virkelig fascinerede mig i en grad, så det fik mig til at tænke over, at det bestemt ikke er lige meget, hvordan en bog sælges.

Penguins omfangsrige og smukt formidlede bagkatalog af alt godt fra særligt den britiske litteraturs klassiske hav gør, at forlaget har en høj stjerne hos en litteratur-aficionado som undertegnede. På cover-fronten har Penguin dog ikke altid været lige inspirerende (fx milevidt fra den originalitet og nytænkning, man finder hos Vintage Classics), men det bliver der sandelig lavet om på med genudgivelsen af en række kanoniserede værker i serien ‘Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition’. Se eksempelvis det indbydende lille udvalg, jeg her har samlet, og find flere her, hvis det har interesse. Covers som disse har den effekt på mig, at de pirrer min æstetiske sans, udfordrer mine vante forestillinger og øger min købelyst, da det fortæller mig, at forlaget gør mere end blot at sælge gammel vin på nye flasker.

“(…)tenho de me lembrar de respirar…quase de lembrar meu coração de bater! E é como dobrar uma mola dura: é por compulsão que executo o mais simples ato, não impelido por um único pensamento; e é por compulsão que reparo em qualquer coisa, viva ou morta, que não esteja ligada à minha única idéia. Só tenho um desejo e todo o meu ser e as minhas faculdades estão ansiosas por alcançá-lo. Há tanto tempo anseiam isso, e tão firmemente, que estou convencido de que ele será alcançado pois já devorou toda a minha existência: sinto-me tragado pela expectativa da realização.”

Emily Bronte.”O morro dos ventos uivantes”.

“(…)você sabe muito bem que ela não me esqueceu! Sabe tão bem quanto eu que, para cada vez que ela pensa em Linton, pensa mil vezes em mim.(…)Mesmo que ele a amasse com todas as forças do seu insignificante ser, não poderia amá-la, em oitenta anos, tanto quanto eu num só dia. E Catherine tem um coração tão profundo quanto o meu: era mais fácil o mar caber todo naquela manjedoura do que o coração dela ser monopolizado por ele! Ora, ele é pouco para ela, do que seu cão ou seu cavalo. Não pode ser amado como eu sou. Como é que ela poderia amar nele o que ele não tem?”

Emily Bronte.”O morro dos ventos uivantes”.