Lyran har valt Namnsdagar som ämne för veckan Tematrio:

Denna vecka har Anders, Andreas, Oskar, Ossian, Beata, Beatrice, Lydia, Barbara, Barbro, Sven, Nikolaus och Niklas namnsdag. Det gömmer sig ganska många författare bland de namnen, berätta om tre av dem.

Jag antar att Bolibompanamnsdagar inte räknas, annars är det ett riktigt bra initiativ!

Berätta om tre författare som har namnsdag denna vecka!

1. Barbara Voors är en favorit, men de sista böckerna har jag missat. Fråga mig inte varför. Min favorit är Tillit till dig som finns med på min Topp-100 lista. Reseboken om Tanzania När elefaner dansar är också fantastisk, liksom Sömnlös och Smultronbett. Barbara Voors är helt enkelt en riktigt bra författare!

2. Anders Paulrud har skrivit Som vi älskade varandra som är en av mina läshöjdpunkter i år. Något annat har jag inte läst av honom. Ska göra det dock. Det finns mycket att välja på!

3. Jag fuskar lite och säger Nick Hornby. Han skulle ju kunna fira namnsdag när det är Niklas och Nikolaus. Han kanske till och med heter Nikolaus, eller mer troligt Nicholas. Hur som helst är han en av mina favoriter. Bäst är A long way down om ett gäng självmordskandidater som träffas på toppen av en skyskrapa en nyårsnatt. Riktigt bra! Bra är också About a boy och High Fidelity. I min bibliotekshög ligger Juliet, naked som jag ska läsa så fort jag har tid.

entender e ajudar a minimizar a dor do outro deveria ser algo extremamente simples e comum, pena que não é...

Como eu havia prometido, começo agora a dissecar um pouco os personagens do livro “Uma Longa Queda” de Nick Hornby. Repito que adorei o livro e recomendo a leitura, me fez pensar num monte de coisas diferentes. Me fez entender e talvez me ajude a elaborar algumas de minhas neuras e o que é melhor, fez isso me divertindo. Fazendo meu cérebro trabalhar.

Aliás, falando nesse tema, fazer o cérebro trabalhar, escolhi pra começar a personagem aparentemente mais frágil do grupo dos suicidas. Maureen, mãe solteira de uma criança portadora de deficiência, o livro não deixa claro qual, mas sabe-se que seu filho não interage com o mundo ao seu redor. A dor que ela sente me remete até certo modo a uma música do Chico Buarque, Cotidiano (clique no nome da música para assistir a um vídeo dele cantando a música).

Apesar de a música falar da mulher sentir certa alegria em todo dia repetir as ações com e para o seu homem (sem discussões sobre machismo, ok? O assunto é outro), nem todo mundo se sente bem com essa falta de mudanças e perspectivas. Maureen se sente mal com o que vive. Não aguenta mais dedicar todo o seu tempo aos cuidados de Matt, seu filho. Não aguenta mais perceber que não vive mais sua vida, não faz nada e nem vê a possibilidade de voltar a fazer. Quantas vezes não nos sentimos presos dessa forma? Quantas vezes parecemos escravos do cotidiano fechado que nos cerca.

Acordar cedo, correr para o trabalho, ao fim do dia correr para a faculdade, chegar em casa cansado e adormecer para repetir tudo no dia seguinte, chega-se ao final de semana e é hora de limpar e arrumar a casa, ir ao mercado, fazer o que ficou pra trás durante a semana. Tudo é feito quase mecanicamente. Bem vindo a vida moderna diriam alguns, mas será que isso tudo é necessário? Conheço um número relativamente grande de pessoas que se sente oprimida o suficiente para se queixar de sua agenda e alguns até poderiam mesmo se matar pela forma como são oprimidos diariamente pelas obrigações. Falta tempo para conseguir ser quem realmente se é.

Até poderia dizer algo sobre falta um culto ao ócio ou algo do gênero, mas não é isso, muitas vezes a falta de atividade pode ser tão dolorosa quanto o excesso de atividade. O desemprego causa suicídios, causa desgosto e muitas vezes sair de uma situação dessas é muito mais difícil do que se pensa.

Nesse ponto Maureen acaba atuando como a voz mais forte de uma multidão insatisfeita com a própria vida. Alguns podem simplesmente dizer, mude sua vida e siga adiante, pare de encher a paciência. A questão é que muitas vezes não se sabe como fazer isso, ou não é possível mudar. Maureen mudou de alguma forma, não conto como foi para que você não desista de ler o (ótimo) livro.

Eu tentei me colocar no lugar dela. Confesso que parte da dor dela acaba sendo minha também, mas em outra instância. Algumas coisas eu poderia e deveria fazer de modo diferente, outras acredito mesmo ser esta maneira repetitiva a melhor possível e até a maneira necessária. Por outro lado, a ignorância (aqui no sentido de ignorar, desconhecer) de Maureen para alguns temas óbvios, me deixou extremamente pensativo.

Fiquei um tempão pensando nisso. O tamanho do mundo de uma pessoa varia de acordo com o que ela vive. Seus sonhos e desejos provavelmente vão ser limitados pelo tamanho de seu mundo. Como o mundo de Maureen era extremamente pequeno se comparado aos outros suicidas, seus desejos mais fortes pareciam bobeira aos olhos dos demais, só que para ela eram algo extremamente importante e forte.

Tentando chegar um pouco mais fundo nessa linha, como cada pessoa conhece e vive coisas diferentes, cada um possui um mundo diferente do outro. Os desejos de um, nesse caso, podem parecer extremamente ridículos e simples para o outro e vice-versa. Ai meu lado mais humanista e Pollyana (sim eu li Pollyana e Pollyana moça, mas não espalhem, por favor) me diz que o correto seria um ajudar o outro a chegar aos seus sonhos e resolver seus problemas, é bem mais fácil resolver a dor do outro do que a sua. O que pega é que infelizmente não é dessa forma que agimos, assim, diariamente mais e mais Maureens se suicidam, eu posso falar por mim, já pensei nisso algumas vezes e por motivos que a grande maioria das pessoas acharia banal.

Here is the corner of my kitchen with pin-board and wine crate bookshelf. Sometimes it feels as though my whole world has shrunk to just this room and the ever changing view from the window…today mostly obscured by misty condensation. This time last year it was getting ready to snow but hopefully this year it’ll wait awhile…at least till I sort out why the car is rattling and find some hay for the ponies!

Today I have been catching up with Lyndsay McBean and wondering yet again if we’ve all been heading in the right direction. College now seems SO long ago.Lyndsay has been working on her online portfolio at Carbonmade so lets hope lots of job offers come flooding in :@); I particularly like her nightclub promotion posters…

The Zillah Bell Gallery e-mailed me yesterday because they had been sent a piece of my work by Les Prince. A nice surprise and beyond the call of duty ( he really is a remarkable man). So anyway, I think its going to be in their Christmas exhibition which opens with a private view tomorrow night. I also finally got around to contacting a few other galleries ; so I’m kind of hoping that in the new year things may start to look a bit brighter.

Well, the stove is almost out and the last dregs of coffee have turned to syrup in the pan so I’d better head up the apples and pears to bed. I finished reading “About a Boy” by Nick Hornby this morning ,which means I’m heading back to the magical world of Tove Jansson and “The True Deceiver” . Then what? Any ideas?

Nick Hornby es de esa clase de escritores que triunfaron relativamente jóvenes, proveniente de una familia acomodada y con un poso de amargura por el divorcio de sus padres, cuando el tenia unos once años, y que una vez licenciado se vuelca en la escritura para ahondar en los sentimientos que rodean y emanan de gente como él y sus amistades, gente de treinta y tantos años con buen nivel económico y en mayor parte heredada, nos plasma en sus escritos esa lucha del antihéroe que sale a comerse el mundo y a dignificarlo un poco. Ya desde sus primeras novelas, cabe recordar la genial Fiebre en las gradas, cuando era y aún es forofo del Arsenal Football Club, o de su imprescindible novela, Alta Fidelidad. Por lo tanto es de agradecer que Anagrama rescatara una de sus primeras obras, Un gran chico, que aún no había sido editada, una novela irónica, divertida, en el que el protagonista, Will, que no a pegado un palo al agua en toda su vida, vive de los derechos de autor de un villancico que compuso su padre y fue un gran éxito, por lo que nos encontramos a un joven que vive a la última moda y sin problemas , pero que estos empiezan a surgir cuando quiere abrirse a los demás y nota que el mundo que le circunda empieza a cambiar con él y que de pronto se encuentra con un joven de quince años, que tuvo que espabilar en la vida lo que le dio una gran madurez a pesar de su edad en confrontación con el inmaduro de Will, que no quiere dejar de se Peter Pan, por que que se van traspasando experiencias y Marcus, el joven de quince años, empieza a saber lo que es la niñez y Will empieza a madurar y a no tener miedo a comprometer con la vida, cosa que estuvo eludiendo muchos años. Una novela exquisita como todas las de Hornby y, que fue llevada al cine en el año 2002 con Hugh Grant de protagonista, aunque no llega a la altura de la novela. Hornby es de esos escritores fenomenales que en España es poco conocido pero en el país inglés como en Estados Unidos está considerado uno de los mejores escritores en habla inglesa y uno de los más comprometidos.

Ficha:

Lengua: Castellano

Editorial: Anagrama

Colección: Panorama de narrativas

Encuadernación: Tapa blanda

Páginas: 360

Año: 2008

Edición: 1ª

ISBN 13: 978-84-339-7495-2

In the age of the booming blockbuster, independent cinema is in dire need of a movie that can appeal to a blooming generation of teenage moviegoers if sophisticated cinema is to survive.  I couldn’t be more pleased to report that “An Education” is that movie.  Although it is the type of movie that typically plays best with adults, it has the power to resonate among younger viewers unlike any movie of its kind.  Director Lone Scherfig’s clear understanding of the mind of teenagers radiates from as early as the opening credits, where sine graphs and frog diagrams devolve into hearts.  Thankfully, her vision is complemented by phenomenal performances and a sensational script that easily makes for one of the best moviegoing experiences of the year.

Jenny, the film’s heroine played with a stunning mastery by Carey Mulligan, is a character with struggles that people at crossroads in life can still appreciate many decades after the movie is set.  Sadly, she faces the same problem of creating a “college identity” separate from her regular identity that still plagues teenagers today.  Her parents (Alfred Molina and Carey Seymour) make sure that she has all the interests and hobbies necessary for her to fit the Oxford bill, obliging her to partake in activities that she loathes.  Through the process, Jenny begins to feel somewhat uneasy about going to spend four years doing something “hard and boring” with her nose in a book at a university only to end up in a “hard and boring” career for the rest of her life.  She reasons, however, to go against the grain would mean throwing away years of her life dedicated to looking impressive on an application, but still the desire remains for something beyond the education that a textbook can provide.

Almost as if an answer to an unspoken prayer, a chance encounter with the charming, older David (Peter Sarsgaard) gives Jenny a taste of a captivating world where the formalities of her schooling rank substantially below the proclivities for enjoyment.  Gradually, David’s outlook rubs off on Jenny, and she becomes willing to throw out what she has worked so many years for to enter the materialistic world that he inhabits.  For all those who think Jenny’s judgement is being impaired by an infatuation for love, what is she doing other than indulging a yearning that all students have had?  Her curious exploration into a very adult world ultimately leads her to a course she had never expected to be enrolled in – a crash course in adulthood.

“An Education” is one of those rare gems that does not owe its success to one particular aspect; the whole film shines from all of its elements working together.  The one that glimmers the brightest, though, is Carey Mulligan, who cements her name in stardom with this performance.  She has drawn, and earned, comparisons to the great Audrey Hepburn.  The face and the hairdo bear a likeness, but I found that that the understated grace and poise that Mulligan gives to Jenny is what evoked Hepburn’s resemblance.  This knack, something seldom seen nowadays, gives her performance a very old-time feel and makes the movie a delight to watch.  But the real marvel of Mulligan’s acting is that the old-fashioned spirit does not make her character some kind of antique.  In fact, I found Jenny to be extremely relatable, the paradigm of how times change but the attitudes of teenagers do not.

Mulligan’s performance is bolstered by a terrific and numerous supporting cast.  Peter Sarsgaard is a delight and smooth as can be.  His acting doesn’t leave us drawing blanks as to why Jenny is so willing to abandon her former conception of where her life would go.  Olivia Williams and Emma Thompson are powerful with the little time they have as the two main opponents to Jenny’s new lifestyle.  The performance that will probably go criminally unheralded is Rosamund Pike as one of David’s companions.  She is the typical “dumb blonde” stereotype, but she brings her own flair to it in a way that makes the tired stock character seem brand new.  When she is on screen, you can’t help but grin.  However, among the ensemble, the real standout is Alfred Molina as Jenny’s father.  Despite being a stern authoritarian when it comes to educational matters, Molina brings an all-encompassing charm that lets us know that he cares for her greatly (but with the values of a fading generation).  His presence lends a warm feel to the movie that blends well with all the other pleasant sentiments the movie radiates.

Acclaimed novelist Nick Hornby (“About a Boy”) penned the film’s sublimely enchanting screenplay.  He acknowledges the gravity of the themes he presents but also packs his script full of wit.  In fact, the film has the feel of a serious comedy as supposed to a funny drama.  But the true achievement of “An Education” is not just entertaining audiences; it has the power to bring generations of moviegoers together.  A /

The United States of McSweeney's

With Christmas roughly in mind, The Media Book Club brings you a series of books perfect for giving. To start us off we begin with The United States of McSweeney’s edited by Nick Hornby and Eli Horrowitz. McSweeney’s is a much-loved publisher of literary journals started by American writer Dave Eggars in 1998. McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern has become famous for it’s quirky approach to design as much as for the fine writers that have featured on it’s pages, including Michael Chabon, Roddy Doyle and Joyce Carol Oates. Previous issues of the journal have taken the guise of a cigarette box and the resemblance of a pile of junk mail. This book pulls together some of the “accidental classics” from the last 10 years of the journal.

Get 15% off The United States of McSweeney’s at the Media Bookshop

Maybe my timing is such that I write a post about art, in all its forms; the musings behind them as well as what consumers get out of said art, just as I finish a book which covers the same exact topic. Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby, author of High Fidelity, About A Boy and others is a story of exactly what I was discussing before.

In a book where surprisingly little seems to happen over 400 pages, which I’m told is normal for Hornby, we’re given the tale of Tucker Crowe a former rock star; Annie a woman nearing 40; and Duncan an obsessive scholar on the topic of Tucker Crowe. The basis of the book, sorry to spoil it for you if you haven’t read it, is that art, music, literature, sculpture, etc. may not mean what you think it does… and some love will be found.

Nor is it necessarily even going to come from the muse proscribed by the media or sagely scholars, as Duncan finds out after having spent years obsessing over Tucker Crowe’s disappearance and the eventual release of an unedited album entitled “Juliet, Naked” – a rehashing of Tucker Crowe’s last and supposed best work.

Throughout the book, Hornby has the characters analyze what it means to create something and offer it up for the consumption of others as well as to presume upon others whence that art came. To sum up the story: Tucker thinks his music is shit; Duncan thinks it’s from god; Annie doesn’t see it as such but sees more to Tucker – from here Tucker learns to appreciate his music, Annie finds a chance at happiness, and Duncan relearns what he thought was gospel. It sounds simple, and it is but Hornby struggles to stay away from the trite clichés, which his characters mock upon the possibility of such an event occurring. One such example is, Tucker meeting Annie and then falling in love thus regaining his appreciation, love of and ability to make music.

Of course, this being what it is, that all does happen but off-screen as it were, so we get the ending we expect just not the way we expected it. And, at the same time the book does manage to bring up the point of “What do any of us really know about art or expect from it, as either artist or consumer?” In the end, one can only take what one does and realize that others may get something entirely different or nothing at all. Queue the explosions so we’ll all be happy.

1993. Londres. Will est un célibataire immature incroyablement cool. Selon ses calculs, il est bien plus branché que la plupart des mecs de son âge. La preuve c’est qu’il écoute Nirvana et Snoop Doggy Dogg. Tout le monde ne peut pas en dire autant. Will n’a pas de femme, pas d’enfant, pas d’amis et pas de travail, et s’en réjouit. Son père a composé une chanson qui est devenue un tube, puis a raté sa vie en essayant d’en écrire de meilleures. Pour le plus grand bonheur de Will qui vit des royalties et occupe ses journées comme il peut et surtout comme il veut. Dans la vie, il faut un minimum d’organisation alors il a mis au point une technique imparable : diviser une journée en unités de temps. Chaque unité vaut 30 minutes car Will s’est rendu compte qu’une heure, c’était bien trop impressionnant. Il est convaincu d’une chose, là où la plupart des gens échouent, lui s’en sort haut la main. A tel point qu’il se demande si des gens arrivent vraiment à manger, prendre un bain, faire les courses, aller chez le coiffeur, acheter des CDs… et travailler. Tout ça reste assez mystérieux pour Will, qui ne fait finalement pas grand chose et s’en contente, ce qui lui laisse du temps pour regarder “Des chiffres et des lettres” et avoir des idées de génie. La dernière en date, draguer à des réunions de parents célibataires.

A douze ans, Marcus est un (trop) gentil garçon, qui plus est (très) futé. Malheureusement, sa vie n’est pas facile. Sa mère est une hippie dépressive qui a décrété que son fils serait végétarien et ne porterait pas de vêtements à la mode. Car seuls les moutons la suivent. Du coup, Marcus va à l’école avec une veste en mouton. Ce qui est normal pour sa mère, et donc pour lui, mais pas forcément pour les autres élèves. Avec son look décalé, Marcus fait office d’OVNI. Il chante en classe sans s’en rendre compte, ne connaît pas Kurt Cobain mais aime Joni Mitchell, ce qui n’arrange rien à ses affaires. Du coup, Marcus n’a pas vraiment d’amis, juste quelques camarades qui lui jettent des cailloux. Et tout ce que les autres trouvent à dire, c’est qu’il devrait rester en dehors de leur chemin, comme si Marcus n’essayait pas de les éviter. Bref, ça ne va pas fort à l’école, et guère mieux à la maison. Marcus s’inquiète pour sa maman. Il pense qu’elle devrait trouver un petit ami car à trois, on est forcément mieux qu’à deux. Un beau jour, il accompagne Suzie (une amie de sa mère, elle aussi divorcée) à un pique-nique entre parents célibataires, et fait la connaissance de Will, père du petit Ned. Après une sombre histoire les mêlant à un canard, Will et Marcus vont curieusement se rapprocher.

A propos d’un gamin est l’histoire d’une rencontre, celle de deux hommes seuls. L’un a douze ans, l’autre la trentaine. Pourtant, Will n’est pas plus adulte que Marcus est enfant. Tous deux ignorent leurs problèmes alors que chacun a la réponse. Reste à poser les bonnes questions. A travers ce roman, Nick Hornby illustre, avec brio et humour, les pérégrinations de deux âmes solitaires en quête d’identité.

Writer Nick Hornby’s (High Fidelity, About a Boy) most recently adapted screenplay is quite the morally ambiguous tale. However, because of his sophisticated writing, Lone Scherfig’s pristine direction, and the entire cast’s wonderful performances, An Education is able to tell an inappropriate story with great taste and thought.

Jenny (Carey Mulligan) is a sixteen year old intellectual whose path in life has been meticulously determined by her parents. Her inquisitve and independent mind, however, gravitates towards things outside the linearity and banality of school. Literature, art, music, films, other cultures. She serendipitously comes across David, a charming man in his thirties who shows her just what she wants, and the two eventually form a romantic and, therefore, taboo relationship.

Carey Mulligan delivers one of the best performances I’ve seen this year, and the supporting cast is just as powerful. Peter Sarsgaard, who plays David, is attractive with his charm, but a hint of sliminess permeates through his good looks. Alfred Molina does very well as Jenny’s father, a stern but ultimately naive man who’s easily deceived by anything that might benefit his daughter.  The film’s heavy themes are expertly balanced in the modest performances. Never does An Education become extremely melodramatic, and this is a testament to the elegant style of British filmmaking.

The art direction is both dazzling and quiet as well. The film transports us to 1960’s England, displaying their way of life through jazz clubs, auctions, concerts, fine dining, etc. Each place we’re taken to feels so wholesome and comfortable, and they never become distractions to what the movie is trying to say.

The film clashes traditional ideals of education against the more independent approach to learning. Jenny’s character is present in so many of my college peers who have difficulty finding value in going to school just to get a pointless degree when we’re capable of learning so much more about the world through travel and experiences. An Education handles these thoughts impressively, and it ends by showing us how young Jenny truly is, despite her vast knowledge of pop culture.

Unfortunately, this movie crumbles in the final ten minutes, and it’s heartbreaking to watch. After telling its story with poise and profoundness, An Education falters in its final moments, wrapping up in conventional fashion. The movie also fades out with a voice over, but it’s completely out of place because there is no other narration present in the film.

An Education is a graceful coming-of-age story that provides laughter, reflection, and wonder. The colors of the world coincide with the deep characters, and the elegant pacing of the film (minus the last ten minutes) flows very well with the great writing. As the end of 2009 approaches, numerous top ten lists will be made; I see myself putting An Education on mine.

8.5 out of 10

It’s a dark, gloomy day.  The kind where having all the lights on in the apartment is doing nothing to brighten the room.  I’m working from home, but the gloom is weighing on me and focus is proving a challenge (hence the creation of a new blog.)

Oscar is pacing, hitting everything with his giant plastic cone along the way.  He got fixed not too long ago and had a reaction to the dissolvable stitches and thusly doomed to the lampshade-like appendage for another 10 days while his junk heals more appropriately. (Hugh has been showing a rate of empathy far surpassing my own, understandably.)

Grizzly Bear is keeping me company, though not doing much to lighten the mood.  It might be time to bust out some cheerier musical guns to lift the day’s tone.  I went on a bit of a musical bender on Sunday and practically doubled my iPod’s content…surely there’s a pop-ish tune or two to break the funk somewhere on the list.

Life has been hectic and full of happy times of late.  I’m thinking of my overzealous vodka tasting at Rasputin last week.  Who knew premium vodkas, pickles and rye bread could bring such joy?  Joy until my early morning wake-up (read: hangover) the next day.  And then of course I embraced my inner 13 yr old girl by catching a “New Moon” matinee with my very indulgent (perhaps overly so that he allowed such a thing) man.  Robert Pattinson is just too delicious to resist, I don’t care how old you are.

I salvaged some dignity as a grown women and an appreciator of fine films by catching “An Education” on Friday.  Nick Hornby, I love you.  Side note: Did you know that Dave Eggers’ wife is one of the co-founders of “The Believer”?  Amazing.  And lovely that these beautiful genius people find one another.  We also went to a warm and wonderful birthday party on Saturday full of just the most interesting people.  So great because I was so socially burnt out by Saturday that dragging my ass out the door was a feat in and of itself.  It was a tasty potluck with an eclectic, beautiful spread and we enjoyed and satiated ourselves fully.

And here we are, a new work week begun, a puppy still in a cone and a blog introduced for all to read of my various whims and rambles.

Fui apresentado ao Nick Hornby de um jeito meio inusitado. Uma garota meio que me fez ler forçado seu primeiro e maior sucesso: Alta Fidelidade. Sobre brados de “é a sua cara”, “te vi ali, atrás daquele balcão de loja de discos” e”até seus amigos estranhos estão no livro” e, desde então, fico aguardando a cada vez que ele lança um livro. Não é uma leitura sofisticada, tampouco versada em contextos complexos e frases Academia Brasileira de Letras. Nick (estou com ele há mais de 15 anos, portanto acho que ganhei o direito de chamá-lo assim, ok?) escreve sobre o que gosta e, basicamente, escreve sobre comportamento, música e cultura pop. Independente de seu fanatismo pelo Arsenal (que já ganhou uma homenagem em forma de prosa, adaptada de um jeito bem porco pelos americanos), Nick é um cara da vida e do povo. Seus personagens são pessoas comuns em situações incomuns, mas não impossíveis. Seu texto é leve, orgânico e, muitas vezes, ácido. É uma excelente leitura para se colocar no lugar dos personagens e reavaliar sua vida, praticamente um roteiro de cinema pronto, tanto que 3 de suas obras já viraram filmes (duas excepcionais, outra vergonhosamente ruim) e outros 3 de seus livros já estão sendo roteirizados para a telona. Recomendo demais se você não conhece o autor, mas não ache que o conhece pelos excelentes filmes, e sim pelo conjunto da obra.

E fiquei feliz ao ver que o Submarino está com uma promoção de 3 livros fantásticos do cara por 10 dinheiros cada. Inclusive, Alta Fidelidade, um livro que tem um filme maravilhoso, e é o que desencadeou toda essa fama providencial ao Nick. O plot envolve relacionamento amoroso, cultura pop, música dos anos 80 e alguns dos mais sensacionais diálogos que você vai encontrar em literatura moderna. O engraçado é que Stephen Frears fez um filme do livro que não se parece com o livro, serve como um complemento, assim como o livro é o mesmo do filme. Sei lá, é a mesma história contada de maneiras diferentes, mas sem perderem as características um do outro. Um livro maravilhoso (leitura obrigatória pelo menos uma vez por ano) e um filme excelente (uma revisitada também uma vez por ano).

O segundo, Um Grande Garoto, também tem sua versão em filme, e ambos tem seus momentos de grandiosidade. É uma história leve que envolve um garoto filho de mãe solteira, um solteirão rico egocêntrico e irresponsável e como ambos irão interagir para dar continuidade a suas vidas. Mas, no meio de tudo isso, situações hilárias envolvendo ambos, muita auto-crítica e necessidades de mudanças. É um livro adulto, moderno e realista. Vale a pena.

E o terceiro é simplesmente incrível. Uma Longa Queda narra a história de 4 suicidas em potencial que se encontram no terraço de um prédio e que ficam encontrando maneiras e justificativas para seus atos, mas condenando uns aos outros até que eles decidem se unir por um determinado tempo para encontrar uma pessoa. A partir daí, suas vidas se entrelaçam e a ironia dos acontecimentos faz com que eles reavaliem suas tendências, necessidades e atitudes. Sensacional.

Enfim, para você conhecer melhor o Nick e entender o que ele tem a dizer já é o suficiente. Mas cada livro dele tem um gosto diferente, mas todos tem um elemento geral: a crítica ao comum e a necessidade constante de renovação.

Conheça Nick Horby. Você não vai se arrepender.

O que eu mais gosto nesse filme? A mania de fazer listas.

Top five things I miss about Laura:  1 - Sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she’s got one of the best all time laughs in the history of all time laughs, she laughs with her entire body.  2-  she’s got character. Or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She’s loyal and honest, and she doesn’t even take it out on people when she’s having a bad day. That’s character. 3 – miss her smell, and the way she tastes. It’s a mystery of human chemistry and I don’t understand it, some people, as far as their senses are concerned, just feel like home. 4 – I really dig how she walks around. It’s like she doesn’t care how she looks or what she projects and it’s not that she doesn’t care it’s just, she’s not affected I guess, and that gives her grace. And 5; she does this thing in bed when she can’t get to sleep, she kinda half moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times… it just kills me. Believe me, I mean, I could do a top five things about her that drive me crazy but it’s just your garden variety women you know, schizo stuff and that’s the kind of thing that got me here.

E não é só uma mania. Tem todo o cuidado por trás (The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention.  Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don’t wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules)  e o indescritível prazer de dividir isso com os amigos:

PS1: Esse post é dedicado aos bons amigos e a todas as listas que a gente já fez em uma mesa de bar.

PS2: Eu gosto mais do Nick Hornby na telona do que nos livros. #prontofalei.

PS3: Nada de citar o slogan de Tostines. Daqui pra frente é Alta Fidelidade: What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music? 
 

PS4: O Jack pode cantar, mas eu ainda sinto vergonha alheia.

PS4: Quem viu o último American Idol pôde acompanhar a ‘performance’ do Jack com a Gladys Knight, Ben Stiller e o #1 (que, como sempre, roubou a cena né?) para promover Trovão Tropical.

Nick Hornby

A novel about wasting time, the music business, fandom, loneliness, the power of the Internet, relationships and regret, Hornby has done it again with his first book in four years. Beautifully written, at times laugh out loud funny, and always incredibly human, Juliet, Naked is a story for anyone who’s ever wondered what the hell they are doing with their life. Every character is fully realised and three-dimensional, as is the usual with Hornby’s books, and the varying points of view allow the reader to see inside the minds of these remarkably different yet similar people all trying to make peace with their past and find meaning in their future. There’s an excerpt from Wikipedia, a transcript from a chat room, an email exchange and some hilarious descriptions of Northern Soul dancing. This book is an easy, entertaining read (your stifled laughter will attract curious looks on public transport) with layers of meaning for those who like to dive in and swim around in the sub-text. Oh, and you even get to decide the ending.

I like the fact that I will not be damned
To hell for kissing someone with ardor,
That you would never use my tender name
In vain, that in the silence of the church’s towers,
We’ll never get to hear the sweet refrain
Of hallelujahs sung somewhere above us.
-Marina Tsvetaeva

“One thing about great art: it made you love people more, forgive them their petty transgressions.
It worked in the way that religion was supposed to, if you thought about it.”
Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby

Leroy Almon, Hell 1990

Either God wants to abolish evil and cannot, or he can but does not want to.
Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?
–Epicurus (341-270 BCE)

If you believe everything you read, better not read.
- Japanese proverb

Appraise the Lord: Tax church property.
-bumper sticker

]]> http://tukopamoja.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/the-book-lovers-book-that-describes-itself/ Thu, 19 Nov 2009 00:45:57 +0000 tukopamoja http://tukopamoja.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/the-book-lovers-book-that-describes-itself/

I hadn’t necessarily expected to read every word of the Lowell biography, but … it’s one of those books you thrust on your partner with an incredulous cry of “This is me!” [Nick Hornby, The Polysyllabic Spree, p16-17]

That is exactly how I feel about many passages in this journal of Hornby’s own reading, and I’ve only read the first ten pages!  (I’ve read several Hornby books and haven’t been disappointed: About a Boy, How to Be Good, A Long Way Down. Good was the least good, but even that had value.)

Evening all.

We had another decent turn-out this afternoon for our society visit to the Arts Centre to see An Education, which seemed- on the whole- to be a hit with our members. Varsity was FULL AS, so we went to Bar Fusion (mostly. Where did you other guys go? Why?!).

Here’s my review of An Education. Remember, anyone who wants to contribute a review or article to this blog can do so! Just email it in to the society.

David

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An Education (dir. Lone Scherfig, 2009) ****

reviewed by David Sugarman

A couple of years ago, The History Boys took a wry look at college students in the 1980s and their attempts to get into Oxford. And starred Dominic Cooper. Now, An Education details the story of a young woman in the early ’60s as she prepares for her A-levels. And stars Dominic Cooper. Where The History Boys struggled was in providing full characterisation for all the boys, a problem that An Education sidesteps by focussing on a single protagonist, Jenny (Carey Mulligan).
Jenny is offered a ride home in the car of David (Peter Sarsgaard), a young, roguish – and Jewish, a fact exploited to great hilarity in several scenes- fellow with no discernible occupation and a great talent for smooth-talking. Caught up in the moment, Jenny falls for David’s romantic, seemingly exotic life. David’s friends, the slick Danny (Cooper) and his ditzy blonde girlfriend (Rosamund Pike) reinforce the contrast between the apparent freedom offered by David and the boredom suffered by her teachers and parents.
Mulligan and Sarsgaard give admirably restrained performances in roles that could have become rather melodramatic, and both give a sense of great maturity, even if beneath the surface the characters are anything but mature. I think I laughed at pretty much every joke in the film, and while it drifted to a somewhat predictable conclusion, I’m happy to forgive An Education that fault.

An Education is a dramatisation of the memoirs of journalist Lynn Barber written for the screen by men’s book specialist Nick Hornby.  It tells the tale of Jenny (played by Carey Mulligan), a 6th form student who is destined for great things in 1960s Twickenham as she discusses Camus with her friends in the local cafe preparing for a scholastic life at Oxford and is under the strict tutelage of her father played by Alfred Molina.  All of this is turned upside down when she meets an older man, David (played by Peter Sarsgaard, whilst waiting at a book shop who sweeps her and her parents off their feet and shows her another world, far away from the books and Latin homework.  What follows makes Jenny the talk and envy of both her fellow sixth form school girls and teachers.

Whilst this is a fine ensemble film, there is a bright star at the centre of this film and it is Carey Mulligan.  As Jenny, Mulligan starts as a naive schoolgirl but Mulligan manages to bring with that naivete an arch, somewhat saracastic and occasionally pretensious streak.  After all, how many 17 year old girls break to French to make a particular point or discuss Camus in the local cafe.  She also has a lovelorn admirer, Graham, who doesn’t always get the rub of the green or Jenny’s undivided attention.  But for all of the attention on Carey Mulligan (which is undoubtedly deserved), this is very much an ensemble piece with many great performances.

What I really liked about this film is that there are few black and whites with characters drawn in shades of grey and the performances backing that up.  Alfred Molina’s father is a bit hapless and alternates between being strict and being easily persuaded to allow his daughter to do things which seem to face in the face of his cautious nature.  However, Molina manages to make Jenny’s father a likeable character as he clearly wants the best for Jenny even if he is not quite sure what that is or how to achieve that.  Clearly he thinks Jenny going to Oxford is the best and he is relying on what he has been told is the best way of her doing it.  It’s hard to take against him. 

Likewise, Peter Sarsgaard’s David is clearly something of a creep and potentially a paedophile and some of his scenes are completely cringeworthy, however, it is easy to see how Jenny would fall for him and his easy charm with her parents means that it is not just Jenny falls for him.  Peter Sarsgaard is the perfect actor to play this slightly off-kilter creepy yet charming role.  His friends played by Dominic Cooper and Rosamund Pike are equally intriguing characters.  Cooper’s character clearly sees the advantage of having David around and appears to be clearly devoted to his girlfriend but, at the same time, despite being something of  a wideboy he is clearly attracted to the smart, cultured Jenny and feels equally uneasy about the nature of David and Jenny’s relationship. 

Rosamund Pike is a revelation as the ditzy Helen who is a perfect counterpoint to Jenny, playing almost a 60s WAG but she mines the comedy potential of this role without being dumb.  I would have liked to have seen more of the teachers, of whom we really only get a cursory glance, particularly Emma Thompson who I always enjoy.

Beyond the acting, director Lone Scherfig has given this film a remarkable lustre and it feels of its period without being hokey and relying on cliche whilst scenes in Paris are imbibed with the sheen of a Fellini movie and feel every bit as magical as they should to Jenny, contrasting the bright palette with the muted tones of greys, browns and blacks you see in Jenny’s home life.  This film is a brilliantly judged balancing act which was thoroughly enjoyable and in Carey Mulligan, I have no doubt that a star is born.

9/10

Switching gears from the horror/noir/gothic kick I’ve been on lately, I would like to devote this post to Lone Scherfig’s new film An Education.  While this movie is not a horror film per se, it does touch upon one of the themes that has come up recently in discussing such previously blogged-about  films as Rosemary’s Baby, The Others, The Exorcist and even Sunset Boulevard.  Namely, this movie shares with these other films the major thematic touchstone of the “trapped woman”.  The idea of a 1960’s British teenager who falls in love with an older man might not readily conjure up the images of, respectively, a woman raped by the devil, a woman trapped inside a haunted mansion, a girl possessed by the devil, or a delusional elderly woman secluded from the outside world due to her own warped convictions, An Education puts its heroine, Jenny, in a position that is just as helpless and harrowing as that of Rosemary’s, Graces’, Regan/Chris’ and Norma’s.  The one thing that keeps An Education, fine film that it is, from reaching the artistic heights of these others is the ending.  But, we’ll get into that later.

First off, you should absolutely eat up all of the superlative praise out there on the interwebs for Education’s lead actress Carey Mulligan.  This girl has chops.  She carries almost all of the emotional weight of a very emotional narrative, and does so without once ringing a false note.  She will win many awards for her work in this film and she will deserve all of them.  Playing alongside Ms. Mulligan is Peter Sarsgaard, who does what Peter Sarsgaard does best: play a creep.  I do not mean this in a pejorative sense; this film is reliant upon an actor in the David role who is able to come across as both creepy and charismatic simultaneously.   David seduces half-his-age Jenny and quickly reveals himself as a morally fuzzy suitor; yet despite Dave’s rough spots, the audience must never doubt that Jenny can be wildly attracted to this man.  Sarsgaard skates this line with aplomb.  Alfred Molina is his usual excellent self in the role of Jenny’s strict but vulnerable father.  Other notable cast members are Emma Thompson as the headmaster of a private school and Olivia Williams as a private school English teacher, a role that has interesting parallels to her role in one of my favorite films of the 1990s: Rushmore.  In Rushmore, Williams plays a private school teacher seduced by a much younger boy, whereas in Education she plays a teacher advising a young girl who is seduced by a much older man.  Her facial expression is very similar in both films — she plays both roles so well that I think she should slap a trademark on the “I’m upset at this romance involving incongruently-aged people” face.

An Education is Nick Hornby’s first foray into scriptwriting since 1997’s Fever Pitch (not the 2005 Jimmy Fallon Red Sox film, although this was also based on Hornby’s novel of the same name).  Education’s script is very well-written, with a slowly building sense of dread punctuated with moments of deep despair along with a sprinkling of humor.  Much of the light-hearted moments are piled on in the beginning of the film, and I noticed that many people in the audience at the Fifth Avenue Cinemas in Vancouver, BC really wanted to keep the good times rolling long after the initial Jenny/Dave meet-cute stops being cute and one realizes that Jenny has painted herself in a corner that she may never get out of.  Gleeful guffaws became nervous laughter which tapered off into pointed silence as the situation worsened and a story that could have veered into RomCom treacle instead carried through with the sometimes uncomfortable implications of its setup and its characters.  Imagine that.

However, as I brought up earlier, the ending left me feeling like a double-crossed Bubble-Lub.  The film earned my trust and then squandered it with the employment of a voiceover and a syrupy pan out in the final scene of the film.  I’m not entirely anti-voiceover, but there had not been a voiceover up to this point in the movie, so why introduce one  in the very last scene?  Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist, The Others and Sunset Boulevard all have very effective endings.  The endings of all of these films ensure that the feeling that had been cultivated throughout will linger in the filmgoer’s mind long after the theatre has been deserted.  Sunset Boulevard, which employs heavy voiceover from the beginning (granted, the acerbic voiceover of a dead man), is witty enough to eschew voiceover in its final scene in favor of a Norma Desmond monologue that is, in the final shot of the film, drowned in black like the overpowering delusions within Norma Desmond’s mind.  Boulevard features one of the best endings in the history of popular film.  An Education, however, fizzles.   I realize that it isn’t fair to require that every film hold up to the standard of Sunset Boulevard, but still you get my point.  The narrative ending of Education didn’t bother me necessarily, but the spell invoked by the film prior to the final scene was broken by an uninteresting and too-neat visual and auditory wrap-up that comes across as lazy.  It just doesn’t do justice to a very well-paced, well-acted and otherwise well-made movie.  Regardless, I still recommend it — I simply suggest that you ignore the ending in the way that a teenager might look past the glaring faults of an otherwise sophisticated lover.

Juliet, Naked was supposed to be light relief after A Place of Greater Safety, but that may not have been fair to Nick Hornby. I was remembering him as essentially readable. I mean, who else could have gotten me through a novel about a bunch of people who meet when they all try to commit suicide on New Year’s Eve? And I recalled A Long Way Down as surprisingly entertaining. So maybe I started Juliet, Naked with the wrong expectations. Or possibly this is just a more complicated venture.

In Gooleness, a godforsaken resort town on England’s northeast coast, Annie is getting tired of her boyfriend of 15 years.  Duncan, whose great interest in life is the reclusive singer/songwriter Tucker Crowe, is a whiny pedant and we wonder how Annie can stand him for an instant longer. The third protagonist is Crowe himself, who abandoned his career after the success of an album called “Juliet.” He stopped performing one night in Minneapolis and has been more or less silent and invisible ever since. This makes him perfect fodder for a handful of devotees who spend hours on the Internet arguing about him and trading misinformation.

Hornby’s a terrific writer so when you actually encounter Crowe you do get a shock: wow! There he is! It was so easy to find him! He’s so refreshingly normal!  Actually, Tucker Crowe is full of regret and self-loathing and has done nothing whatever with his life, save fathering too many children whom he doesn’t know. Somehow Hornby manages to make him likable — almost. Annie posts a comment about Crowe’s music on the website Duncan moderates and…. Crowe writes back to her. A flirtation ensues, followed by an actual encounter, followed by some rueful growth and character development for everyone. Though probably not enough for Tucker, in my view.

Hornby’s thoughts about creativity are moderately interesting and I liked his grappling with the weird doubling of the virtual/real Tucker Crowe. But overall I felt thwarted. Nick Hornby is funny, and the laugh moments were a little scarce here. What’s more, the characters are mired in boredom, passivity and loneliness. Hard to make that dramatic. Basically, I feel as if I’d had a craving for a Hostess Twinkie, and tried to distract myself with a granola bar. I’m not hungry any more but I’m not satisfied either.

If people die the moment that they graduate, then surely it’s the things we do beforehand that count.

– Jenny

When I posted the trailer for An Education a couple of months ago, I eagerly anticipated this movie. I mentioned on my Oscar Watchers group when I posted the release dates of film that I was so excited that I could pee. This movie has a Metacritic score of 85. It’s a fantastical account of a girl that is not having an academic education, but an education of life.

Newcomer Carey Mulligan gives an Oscar caliber performance as Jenny, a 16-year-old private school girl living in 1961 Twikenham, London. On a rainy walk home from school orchestra practice, a car pulls up.

A suave real estate agent, David (Peter Sarsgaard) offers her a ride. She gladly accepts it. In the car ride, they chat about Jenny’s plans to be an independent woman when she gets her grades up to attend Oxford University. They strike an immediate accord with each other.

Jenny’s father, Jack (Alfred Molina) wants to know where his money is going for her education. That is his only intention in her daughter’s life. Bumping into David around the neighborhood, David wants Jenny to meet his friends, Danny and Helen (Dominic Cooper, Rosamund Pike), but the problem is that Jack wants let her out. David comes by to sweet talk Jack and Marjorie (Cara Seymour) into their little adventures. David is Jenny’s outlet in having the freedom that she wanted.

As Jenny and David’s relationship continues to grow, Miss Stubbs (Olivia Williams) and Headmistress (Emma Thompson) become foils for Jenny when she talks about her budding relationship with David. She tries to warn Jenny not to be caught in the ways of love. She needs to educate herself first, before pursuing the life of a wife and mother. Soon, Jenny’s world is turned upside down when she learns that David is not what he appears to be.

It’s a bubbly romp that transported me to that time with the music, the fashion and the locales displayed on screen. The performances were solid from most of the cast. Carey Mulligan gives off an Audrey Hepburn vibe when she was dolled up. The movie’s plot is typical with a May/December relationship. You could guess what is going on.

Judgment: This movie should not be missed. Watch out for star being born.

Rating: ****

Wow, three weeks between posts. I can see this isn’t going to be the kind of blog I write in every week. But that’s okay I guess. Nick Hornby only updates his blog a few times a month.

And speaking of Hornby, I recently finished his latest novel Juliet, Naked. Like all of Hornby’s novels it is funny, insightful about music and relationships, and an absolute pleasure to read. I’ve always appreciated how he tries to do a little something new with each novel, and yet his voice is irrefutably the same no matter what he writes. A difficult quality to attain, for sure.

Anyway, read no further if you don’t want to hear any spoilers (though, of course, Hornby’s novels are never about plot; they’re about character), but Juliet’s ambiguous ending raises an old, but nonethless interesting question: Is is better to burn out or fade away?  Actually, Hornby doesn’t raise this question, exactly. More like a cousin of that question. Let me explain: At the end of the novel Tucker Crowe, former reclusive singer-songwriter, returns home to America with his son Jackson after a brush with death, a  horrendously awkward family reunion, and a brief romance with the novel’s other main character, Annie. Anyway, there is a sort of epilogue at the end, told entirely through posts on a Tucker Crowe fansite.  Crowe, we learn through the posts, has just relased a new album, and it’s full of odes to contentment and “inner peace,” hardly words most of Crowe’s fans (called Crowologists in the book) associate with an artist whose most famous album, Juliet, is about a break-up.

However, there is one fan, a first-time poster, who loves the album, gushing that she and her husband “absolutely love it,” while they think Juliet is “a bit gloomy.” The novel ends on an acerbic note with a fervent Crowologist lamenting, “Dear God.”  So, at the end Crowe seems to find–though we’re not entirely sure how–some measure of happiness, but it comes at the cost of his art’s vitality, at least according to his obsessive fans; he’s “fading away,” in their eyes.

The issue of burning out vs. fading away is also explicitly raised by Barry in Hornby’s High Fidelity, though no answer is posited (my guess is Barry would be pro burn out). Having read all of Hornby’s novels, and most of his non-fiction, I think I can safely guess that the author comes down on the side of “fade away.” This would seem sacreligious to some people who love art. I mean, wouldn’t you rather have an artist or band make a handful of spectacular albums, and then they all die in a plane crash or OD or, in the case of The Beatles, just decide to split up?

At best this notion is immature, and at worst it devalues the humanity of the people who make art. Make no mistake, art in the form of books, movies, and of course music, is very important to Hornby (and to this blogger). But I don’t think I’m out of bounds in saying that Hornby wouldn’t want art to come at the cost of one’s soul (and I don’t mean soul in its religious sense; like most writers Hornby is a self-respecting atheist). This is, more or less, the lesson Rob learns at the end of High Fidelity: he can still love music as much as he used to, but he’s finally gained some empathy–he can make a playlist full of songs Laura would like–and his obesession with art isn’t ruining his personal life anymore.

A stretch, maybe, but it’s a fascinating idea, and just one of the many reasons to love Hornby’s books in general and Juliet, Naked in particular.

I saw An Education on Sunday night. Aside from the abysmal last line, which I won’t repeat (not because I don’t want to spoil the anticlimax for you but because Nick Hornby should be ashamed of his scriptwriting) I quite liked it; on an aesthetic level at least.

I wanted to see it after reading Little White Lies’s issue on it where they raved about the lead, Carey Mulligan. True she’s incredible (she was pretty good as Kitty Bennett in Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice too) but not enough attention has been paid to how prettily “vacuous” the look of the film is.

Little White Lies bandied around the word “vacuous” in relation to Rosamund Pike’s performance of beautifully wrapped but hopelessly empty Helen, like so many other critics but, to be honest, the storyline itself became a bit hollow and started to waver in my mind after 45 minutes in.

This is down to the narrative giving way to silk slips, tailored florals, Holly Golightly hair and wafts of smoke. Any intellectual pretensions to “appreciate the cinematic elegance” of the film, caved in to looking at the pretty things.

Annoyingly it also made me want to take up smoking even more than French cinema has. If only it didn’t kill you.

But my point, it was so crisp and lovely to look at, I lost track… if Peter Sarsgaard had been more appealing then perhaps… I did rather like his car though.

Hornby has written another one. It’s brilliant, probably the best book he’s penned since “High Fidelity” and possible even better than it, although I’d like it better if the ending had felt a bit more resolved.

We follow Duncan, who is a manic fan of Tucker Crowe, a semi-Dylan, semi-Springsteen, semi-Leonard Cohen, semi-imaginary creation of Hornby. Crowe apparently experienced a life changing epiphany in a Minneapolis bathroom in 1986 and disappeared. Duncan runs an Internet site dedicated to studying Crowe’s every belch, whimper and fart, and the new rumors of same.

I have to break off here to say that yes, this does ring somewhat true in my own life. I am an equally semi-obsessive Dylan fan. Or maybe was. I can, or at one time could, listen to a few seconds of a version of “All Along the Watchtower” and probably tell you what year it was from. Maybe what tour. Probably who was playing on it. Likely even recommend a better specimen from the same time frame. I have a box of probably over 1,000 Dylan CD-Rs under a spare bed at my house. I certainly own all his albums, I’ve read a good deal of the meaningful books about him, have seen him live something like 16 times, and have spent way too many hours driving other perfectly sane people crazy about Bob Freaking Dylan.

Duncan’s longtime girlfriend and object of his Crowe-worship-torture, Annie, tries to tolerate his obsession. When Crowe releases a “new” album of old demos, it is Annie who hears what is really going on in the music. Partially to spite Duncan, she posts a review on the website. Lo and behold, about the time a cranky Duncan is taking up with a new woman, Tucker Crowe e-mails Annie and appreciates her insight into his work.

I won’t go through the rest of what happens. Even Crowe, who is Dylanish in his inability to take responsibility for his social failures (see Joan Baez, also secret marriage and child/ren, etc), comes off as an amazingly likeable character. I usually want to punch at least one of Hornby’s characters in the face. Not this time. And if I did, it would probably be Duncan.

Again, stepping back in, there was a big “guilty pleasure” factor in this book. I would laugh at the ridiculousness of Duncan’s behavior, and then think, “well, there was that one time when I dd such and such…” and realize that I wasn’t THAT much less ridiculous myself.

This was a very impressive book. Hornby just gets the male psyche. If we can’t BE Bob Dylan or Tom Brady or Barack Obama or whomever, we have to know EVERYTHING about them, and “understand” them completely. It’s utterly pathetic. And accurate. He also gets the female psyche. I like Annie as much as I like any character he has ever written. I’m heartbroken for her failures and problems and wish that just once, he’d broken out happily ever after for her. Maybe when they make it a movie.

Joe

He leido poco mas de 80 paginas de este libro y el protagonista habla de cosas muy cercanas y hace buenas reflexiones entre ellas aquella por la que es tan conocido tanto el libro y la pelicula.Leo este libro por recomendación del copropetario del blog y parece que no me va defraudar.