My father collects forwarded. Stores them in folders.'s Animals folder, folder, Landscapes, Love folder, the folder and the folder Chief Madrid. The latter contains old photos servant intended to use during their exile almost three months of summer to talk about a periphery that no longer exists. For example, through the Four Roads:
O of this, the Paseo de Extremadura:
Or this one, street Eugenia de Montijo:
The idea was to combine the pictures with quotes, it occurs to me, Rafael Sanchez Ferlosio, Pío Baroja and Rosa Chacel. Ie with quotes from books that have portrayed real-time edge. Was therefore going to devote a certain intensity to English literature. I mention Baroja, to Ferlosio Chacel and they are the best authors I've read, but the plan contained gaps solve my homeland, so I started with Rafael Chirbes: The hunter shot . I loved it. I found these brief assessments, appropriate para este blog, pero famélicas por lo que respectaba a mi pretensión:
«Me llevó más arriba de Cuatro Caminos, y me indicó con el índice aquel paisaje desolado de hierbas quemadas por el invierno y desmontes.
"¿Qué ves?", me preguntó. Y yo le respondí que veía un campo mísero que me hacía añorar la dulzura mediterránea de nuestra tierra. Se echó a reír. "No eres muy largo de vista, Carlos." Le dije que si lo que me pedía was a list, see fallow, shacks protected by the slopes, children digging in the landfill and some dogs. Now, his smile had turned into a loud laugh. "Be careful, lest the dogs will not let you see the gold." "
The case began and ended with Chirbes. For reasons not relevant here, I had to wear ; to read tons of English literature. It was a really small deviation (Chirbes is English literature), yet ruined my future post. I found, yes, Many mothers, especially preguerracivilista: it was not because the author's style transposing what he saw, or what he had seen, but recreations recreations recreations of the Great Via, Sol and Huertas, and also the Residencia de Estudiantes, which is almost the most peripheral that appears in the prewar and war novels. Even when they are well made and dare to get and byways, there is no one to save the smell of precooked food. And I wanted to eat raw dish.
Here's what I mean by pre-cooked food:
"I came to Madrid as soon as I took the first walk through the square Santa Ana between Boots and the market women was as if I were in New York . I like the English. I like them, as you say. I like trams so slow and ramshackle and I like pots of red geraniums on the balconies . I like the same thing Trail the Museo del Prado . "
The fragment belongs to the mists of time , Antonio Muñoz Molina. The speaker is a foreigner, so I guess that justifies the landscape looks out of a retrospective Tourist Office: no objection in terms of likelihood. However, as a reader would have preferred the character spoke to me, what I, his spittoon. A street that no longer exists. Either hoax that he had crossed his mind to the author, and not having to do with Real Madrid in the collective imagination. Mind you, I am not judging The night of time by these four lines. than talk is tiresome treatment of certain scenarios in literature and film. I'm sick of landmarks. Central Park, the Trail of the Rive Gauche and Trafalgar Square. We went there and made speeches already. Please talk to me Tragacete: sure going to have to think twice about where to get the look. My boyfriend says that the best slogan for Teruel would have been the 'Teruel exists', which makes me think that perhaps the great novel about the civil war comes when it leaves our automated heads dwell. At least in landscape terms.
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