critical and critical I saw recently "Ratatouille" and the review of Ego is one of the most highest in the film. The next day I read the beautiful portrait of Roberto Mariani contained in "Artists, madmen and criminals" by Osvaldo Soriano. also on the life of Mariani, a poet and storyteller, the figure of the critic, especially of such Avelino Castro, has cast its shadow. Mariani tells Soriano gathered in a book that reviews all relating to him for the idiocy of which the same were a sample. (Not for this did not suffer.) Here are a few steps. "In a piece of the story of Mariani says: Muguette When he tried to tighten his bank, to tie him to the more flirtatious bachelor pad (...)
paragraph inflamed the erudition of Castro, who points out in his critique: We can not explain what you mean tell the author when he writes that Muguette tried to fasten it to his bank, because Muguette, being a woman, could not be sea, and then have the banks.
As for a paragraph that says: The absence of Muguette filled the white margin of his life
Castro notes: If the margin was white, it is clear that it was filled. If it was filled, was no longer white. What is not written is not written. They are self-evident truth. "
Then there is a person who, at the time of Holden School, has bewitched by the art of film criticism by showing how it can be the highest form of love for a work, such as critical do philosophy, interpretation of thought, reveals the forms of art showing the many aspects only visible to the eye of the magician. There are those who work and who conceives through it.
This person is called Bruno Fornara.
Ed is one of those lucky encounters that changes your life.
Four or five things I learned These first few days holidays have been useful as a teaching: - yearn unnecessary removals in other latitudes, warmer, less humid viruses nursery should be strong everywhere (we receive data from Lazio, Puglia, Sicily ) - to attend performances of Christmas is always a small elite group of survivors, needless to distribute portions of the script. More realistic to stage a Beckett with two or three characters. Better yet a monologue (there is always a Gaston, a successful from an early age). - Santa does not ever get sick, get out of resources, and unthinkable is always to seeking. Perhaps quilting reindeer antibiotics but did not sgarra. - who sends his best wishes to the whole book (and find out why is a former member or friend you always called Gigi and instead signed with the SMS is first and last name) does not deserve response. The good wishes are sent or heard or did not send. - in old magazines buried under the mountain of new and revived to clean glasses or collecting scraps of artichokes, etc.. interesting articles that are hidden at first sight had escaped. (But you never open certain magazines? So new, so pristine, so little wrinkled ... suggest that the days when they were discarded) - The demands of adults in Santa Claus are more difficult to fulfill. I, for example I would just go to the movies with A. and so far we have not yet ... (to be continued)
I give the numbers if I had Ultimate, by dint of extraordinary night in front of the laptop, two screenplays. In three to write, thankfully. A person that must read (as we hope, see previous post). Out -10 C. Inside the house, the 11th year that the virus has led smurf kindergarten. The average of four hours of sleep per night. Fifteen and forty time of arrival of that tomorrow bring grandparents Romans in Turin for the holidays. In five of the six things that I forget to do a day (we hope not to forget the grandparents in boxes). Infinite hoping to get out alive.
past few days (or complex enough to live better by addressing remaining alive) I found myself daydreaming every now and then. I wish I were a pediatrician I chased my son phone as I would not even with Christian Bale if I had the number . Or the electrician who told us to unscrew the bulb and the recall following week. or technician of the boiler that we begged for weeks to come and take these 100 € for the annual inspection. I wish I were one of those people who never suffers from the neglect syndrome professional. Instead who writes stories is always there to propose or to justify or protect them. Often the defense, never attack. They know that writers do not even turn off the phone the night. You never know who the producer, caught by insomnia, be dazzled by our idea . We must be ready. The "how I want to be" brought me back to memory a poem studied in high school. S ' i 'was fire, arderei' the world; s' i 'was wind, storms; s' i' were water, the 'drowning, s' i' was God, mandereil 'en deep s' i' was Pope, 'then happy days, For all of' Christians Imbrighi; s' i 'was' mperator, you know' what to do? all round to cut off the head. S 'i' was dead, andarei by my father; s' i 'was life, flee from him: faria similar to me' mother. S 'i' was Cecco, with 'i' is and was, I torreo women young and fair, and old and ugly Lassere others. (Cecco Angiolieri 13-14th century) I read it, I smile and think that the boiler is important, but the words also.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Love "It 's very nice what he did for me, but I see a woman like many others. Sudo, cough, I have cavities." (Blue Film)
I read the latest edition of the Friday of the Republic of Natalia Aspesi delusional response to an equally delusional letter that Marianna. The book is titled
Matters of the heart and Marianna pluritradita but still has a wife with her husband assuming a bizarre solution to the problem of betrayal. A sort of call for female solidarity. The Aspesi fully agrees: "I am sure that the day when women cease to contend for a man, man will lose the will to betray. I think (not only) will excite the men fought to feel, to feel important , up for grabs by the desire of women. " Hooray, found the solution. pity that the argument has only a couple of flaws: 1. the idea (unfortunately often done) that men are big kids, that we're women "rule", direct them, guide them ... a little 'how to do it with their children. (And then we say tired!) Idea which, needless to say, creepy. Very different would be talking about human revolution, the rediscovery of loyalty, sincerity. But it should be the person to choose and those who have not married or who entertains nicely out of the house. In such a case would then be no question of human and man. Which brings us to Step 2. 2. The solution of Mrs Marianna ignores the fact that there are only men to cheat. I'm sorry for all those who learn it only now, but women also betray their husbands and partners. Aspesi At least this makes sense because that way, but it ignores the reasoning. At this point, what would be the final solution? Two fronts of solidarity which does not allow male and female individuals of the opposite sex to talk, call, make a business trip or a coffee with their husband / wife? I think therefore that we take a step back and talk to the couple. Of that strange thing that you yearn when you do not have (more women than men, actually) and when at last we are concerned, we explore ago around and sigh. Series of "ah, if only I could." AND 'the romantic sensucht, nothing new, the desire to desire, the desire to feed that requires you to never be satisfied. That 's what Woody Allen describes beautifully with a scene of his latest film: Roy, married to Sally, spends hours and hours of downtime to gaze out the window Opposite beautiful. When he finally goes to live close to the coveted, he happens to see his wife undresses in what was their home and, at this distance and at this stage of things, Sally seems desirable than ever. Both Roy needs to lower the curtain does not waver. meantime I look forward American Life, the latest film by Sam Mendes which the director says: "The protagonists of my film are not two: they are a unit. And the film does not mention the challenge of together. E 'rather than the story of a couple who have already decided to tackle together the challenges of the world. " Screenplay by Dave Eggers and his wife, Vendela Vida. Thank we need fresh air.
Lights and shadows few days ago I was with a Smurf in all of those shops full of Christmas decorations. Those triumphs of marketing decembrino all light and color. They are beautiful, beautiful. We bought a ball for the tree. Our tree is already full but since there is a smurf every Christmas I buy a new one. This year he has chosen, is a Santa Claus hat with blue wool attached to a metal ball that always sounds like a heavenly bell. Our tree is all red and gold but it is known that children rarely fulfill parental expectations. It begins with the balls for the tree, he continues with his friends and his girlfriend then ... As we walked to the speaker him happy for the heavenly Father Christmas, for I have turned away from all the rest affordable, we met the man who lives two floors above us. some time is not as friendly when we arrived here. In my selfishness, I thought it was the Northern League and had found my Roman origins of the Sicilian or worse than my boyfriend. Or that the night waking and screaming of the Smurf had disturbed over the edge. But while the warm colors of the decorations and lights around us, I received a cold shower. "That's great," he said, referring to D. "We lost a grandson of six years for leukemia in the spring. And we no longer live." And I have been able to say only "I'm sorry, I did not know." When the night he caught in the kitchen crying, A. understood that we are much further back than we thought. work to build a protective barrier over the world, we talk about this. sometimes seems to go better, but then discover that it is like all other Italian shipyards. We are far behind. course I know that many children die, there are diseases, hunger and all the rest. But the eyes of a man that you've only good morning and good evening that fill with tears as you can before you forget it? We placed the heavenly Father Christmas on a high branch because he says A. that for a visual paradox, the item must be dissonant note explained why not. And I think to make a pie and give the lord of two floors above. Not that a pie can do nothing, but an opportunity to tell him that if he sometimes wants to talk or come out and play with Don, we are here. And to tell you how much I appreciated his courage to show the pain she has inside. between ribbons and decorations may not see it.
Thanks for everything I've seen it the Venice Film Festival a few years ago. not on the parterre, ran among the people, holding hands. friend worked on the set of "Desert Roses" and said that was not the only defeated by the weather. In an interview when asked to invent a possible epitaph for himself, he replied: "I never gave to any actress." And Oliveira said that it was his anger, despite his age, he continued to make a film of the year: "If it dies, I'll always be second." Thanks for everything.
The giant and the little boy I think Philip Roth is a great one. The biggest? I do not know, certainly has a few front. When you read just a couple of lines is so perfect that the writing seems to pre-exist to the author, those words combined seem to be so natural as a waterfall, a rock. What then is naturally derived from the work of a giant fruit that simplicity and complexity. Here are some lines in my favorite Roth "Her face was framed by long, narrow, thin hair, straight and the blacks who came from behind and a bit 'more down, with a cut that seemed deliberately designed to hide some defect disfiguring, but certainly not of a physical nature. "
In addition to the beat of dialogue, which, however, I look in the mirror:
" I'm not a tactician. I'm an enthusiast. "
We're in" The Phantom leaves the stage ", the joke is given by Kliman, not that Zuckerman is Roth's alter ego.
Indeed Roth is not an enthusiast. And a man ' the great obsessions: sex, age, illness.
And just wanted to talk about it. I recently got back in the hands of his novels, especially "Everyman" and, except as I said for style and economy of words and how effective those are, I have so much shared his vision of things as before, to be honest, splashing.
The sick person who envies the security of the healthy, disease as a curse, the despair that seems to be inevitable as we go forward.
Since practice and study Buddhism and cultivate the idea that the karma of each individual is at the same time the road ahead to complete the knowledge of the human and the challenge to transform their limits, live better.
I look with more clarity and understanding to the history of my family, with us the karma of health we did not go quite heavy.
I look with admiration the smurf that his instinct is very close to the wise: when you're sick and when the disease is not well spent even a minute to complain about what was or envy the kids who went to the park to do snowmen or worry about what will be.
Certainly not as Roth writes, or rather does not write his own.
But on the other hand speaks without interruption. Almost always good things.
