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rosa44's reviews
202 reviews
This Wound Is a World by Billy-Ray Belcourt
dark
emotional
informative
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
4.75
Poemas que me gustaron:
"Notes from a Public Washroom"
"An Elegy for Flesh"
"The Rubble of Heartbreak"
Epilogo: "This Wound Is a World insists (...) that loneliness is endemic to the affective life of settler colonialism, but that it is also an affective commons of sorts that demonstrates that there is something about this world that isn’t quite right. Loneliness in fact evinces a new world on the horizon."
"Notes from a Public Washroom"
"An Elegy for Flesh"
"The Rubble of Heartbreak"
Epilogo: "This Wound Is a World insists (...) that loneliness is endemic to the affective life of settler colonialism, but that it is also an affective commons of sorts that demonstrates that there is something about this world that isn’t quite right. Loneliness in fact evinces a new world on the horizon."
Indigno de ser humano by Osamu Dazai
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
"En mi existencia ya no existe la felicidad o el sufrimiento. Todo pasa. Esa es la única verdad en toda mi vida, transcurrida en el interminable infierno de la sociedad humana. Todo pasa. Este año cumpliré veintisiete. Tengo ya tantas canas que aparento haber pasado los cuarenta."
Where Reasons End by Yiyun Li
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
La Hija Unica by Guadalupe Nettel
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
5.0
The Curious Nature Guide: Explore the Natural Wonders All Around You by Clare Walker Leslie
hopeful
informative
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
fast-paced
5.0
Es un libro hermoso, lo disfruté de principio a fin. Tiene bellos dibujos, fotos, datos, recomendaciones, etc. sobre la naturaleza que nos rodea.
"The creature at your feet dismissed as a bug or a weed is a creation in and of itself. It has a name, a million-year history, and a place in the world." — EDWARD O. WILSON, THE FUTURE OF LIFE
"Nature is not a place or a thing. It is a mosaic, a network, a matrix in which is embedded not only the world’s biodiversity, but also the day-to-day quality of our lives." — CHRIS LEAHY, MASSACHUSETTS AUDUBON SOCIETY
"The creature at your feet dismissed as a bug or a weed is a creation in and of itself. It has a name, a million-year history, and a place in the world." — EDWARD O. WILSON, THE FUTURE OF LIFE
"Nature is not a place or a thing. It is a mosaic, a network, a matrix in which is embedded not only the world’s biodiversity, but also the day-to-day quality of our lives." — CHRIS LEAHY, MASSACHUSETTS AUDUBON SOCIETY
El lugar by Annie Ernaux
emotional
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
4.75
Por momentos, la lectura se volvía como un espejo de mi propia vida. Ernaux es una escritora con quien me identifico mucho en varios pasajes de sus obras.
Si los gatos desaparecieran del mundo by Genki Kawamura
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
"Mucha gente trata de conseguir algo sin perder nada, pero eso es tanto como robar. En el momento en que uno consigue algo, hay otro que pierde. La felicidad de uno tiene su contrapartida en la desdicha de otro. Mamá solía hablarme de estos principios por los que se rige la vida".
100 Poems by Seamus Heaney
emotional
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
4.0
BLACKBERRY-PICKING
For Philip Hobsbaum
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking.
Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not.
For Philip Hobsbaum
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking.
Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not.