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theanitaalvarez's reviews
1766 reviews
Sagittarius by Natalia Ginzburg
dark
emotional
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
A domineering mother who has dreams of greatness meets her match in an alluring woman. Ginzburg portrays this story in spare, clean prose, and thus she allows us to see her characters in clear, unsparing light.
The Revolt by Clara Dupont-Monod
informative
tense
medium-paced
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
The Confessions of Frannie Langton by Sara Collins
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Kim Ji-young, nacida en 1982 by Cho Nam-joo
challenging
dark
informative
reflective
medium-paced
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
La noche en que Frankenstein leyó el Quijote by Santiago Posteguillo
4.0
Even if this is not a detailed study of literature and the production of the works mentioned, it is a fun and interesting read, perfect for after a busy week at uni (as when I read it). Posteguillo tells each of the little anecdotes in a warm and welcoming tone, which make his book very attractive. He travels through the history of books from the library of Alexandria to Harry Potter, passing over Don Quijote, El lazarillo de Tormes and Frankenstein. He doesn’t get into academic language or highly complicated explanations, but keeps it simple and to the point, making this a jewel for any reader. Hey, you don’t have to be a Literature student to get them. The only prerequisite is to love books passionately.
What caught my attention the most was not precisely in the stories themselves, but in the love the author has for books. It's clear and patent in every single phrase, in every loving conclusion. Each of the little stories that comprise the book is a testimony of the love that makes people investigate books and authors. In short, it’s the perfect gift for the book nerd in your life.
Thanks to Cristina for giving this book to me. You’re the best.
What caught my attention the most was not precisely in the stories themselves, but in the love the author has for books. It's clear and patent in every single phrase, in every loving conclusion. Each of the little stories that comprise the book is a testimony of the love that makes people investigate books and authors. In short, it’s the perfect gift for the book nerd in your life.
Thanks to Cristina for giving this book to me. You’re the best.
Lavinia by Ursula K. Le Guin
3.0
First confession: I’ve never read the Aeneid. I probably should, though. But having said that, I don’t think that my lack of knowledge regarding classical literature damaged my enjoying of this novel in the least. Maybe it was mainly because the novel is not centered in the events described in the epic poem, but in the life of a character that’s basically a name in the source text.
Lavinia is the daughter of Latinus and Amata, the royal couple of the Latin people in Italy. Having lost her two brothers when she was very young, Lavinia was raised as any other Latin girl, and she’s also taught to be her father’s heir. Not in the political senses (she’s a woman, after all), but in the mystical sense. Latinus, besides his duties as a king, doubles as an augur, someone who sees the future. He often asks his daughter to accompany him to the sacred place to ask to his ancestors’ advice. There, she has a vision of a dying man, who tells her he’s writing a poem (one doesn’t have to know much to guess that this guy is Virgil himself), and talks to her about his hero: brave Aeneas. Lavinia is instantly smitten by the tragic and heroic figure, but doesn’t give much thought to it.
The relationship between Lavinia and her mother is pretty strange. After losing her two sons to a disease, the Queen appears to have lost her mind in several ways. She’s abusive towards Lavinia, and often acts as if she doesn’t know her at all. But things change when Lavinia grows up and suitors decide to begin asking for her hand. Amata favours her own nephew, Turnus, while her daughter doesn’t really like him that much. There’s a strong implication that Amata is in love with Turnus himself, but that stays only in the level of subtext.
However, the oracle tells Latinus that he shouldn’t marry his daughter to a Latin man, as there’s a group of men coming and one of them will marry her. Of course, the rest of the suitors don’t take this very well. Soon after the Trojans leaded by Aeneas arrive to the city, and he decides to court Lavinia. War follows soon afterwards, and both parts are destroyed. Lavinia and Aeneas do get married (as says the source text) and they live happily together until his death.
What’s very interesting here is the way in which Le Guin works with her narrator. Several times we get Lavinia saying that she only exists in the poem, and that she owes her life to her poet. The thing is that he couldn’t add all the details he wanted about her and left them out. So, Lavinia is deciding to take a chance and tell her side, to get a voice. That’s brilliantly shown and it makes the myth become a little closer to us, as she’s a warm and sweet narrator.
My only "but" is the latter part of the novel, after the wars. It goes way to fast to my taste, and I missed some of the character development we get in the first part. Nevertheless, it’s a good read. If you’re interested in mythology, it’s certainly an interesting take on it, as Le Guin leaves aside most references to gods and goddesses that are shown in Greek and Roman literature to be walking around men.
Lavinia is the daughter of Latinus and Amata, the royal couple of the Latin people in Italy. Having lost her two brothers when she was very young, Lavinia was raised as any other Latin girl, and she’s also taught to be her father’s heir. Not in the political senses (she’s a woman, after all), but in the mystical sense. Latinus, besides his duties as a king, doubles as an augur, someone who sees the future. He often asks his daughter to accompany him to the sacred place to ask to his ancestors’ advice. There, she has a vision of a dying man, who tells her he’s writing a poem (one doesn’t have to know much to guess that this guy is Virgil himself), and talks to her about his hero: brave Aeneas. Lavinia is instantly smitten by the tragic and heroic figure, but doesn’t give much thought to it.
The relationship between Lavinia and her mother is pretty strange. After losing her two sons to a disease, the Queen appears to have lost her mind in several ways. She’s abusive towards Lavinia, and often acts as if she doesn’t know her at all. But things change when Lavinia grows up and suitors decide to begin asking for her hand. Amata favours her own nephew, Turnus, while her daughter doesn’t really like him that much. There’s a strong implication that Amata is in love with Turnus himself, but that stays only in the level of subtext.
However, the oracle tells Latinus that he shouldn’t marry his daughter to a Latin man, as there’s a group of men coming and one of them will marry her. Of course, the rest of the suitors don’t take this very well. Soon after the Trojans leaded by Aeneas arrive to the city, and he decides to court Lavinia. War follows soon afterwards, and both parts are destroyed. Lavinia and Aeneas do get married (as says the source text) and they live happily together until his death.
What’s very interesting here is the way in which Le Guin works with her narrator. Several times we get Lavinia saying that she only exists in the poem, and that she owes her life to her poet. The thing is that he couldn’t add all the details he wanted about her and left them out. So, Lavinia is deciding to take a chance and tell her side, to get a voice. That’s brilliantly shown and it makes the myth become a little closer to us, as she’s a warm and sweet narrator.
My only "but" is the latter part of the novel, after the wars. It goes way to fast to my taste, and I missed some of the character development we get in the first part. Nevertheless, it’s a good read. If you’re interested in mythology, it’s certainly an interesting take on it, as Le Guin leaves aside most references to gods and goddesses that are shown in Greek and Roman literature to be walking around men.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Gustave Doré, Samuel Taylor Coleridge
5.0
My first encounter with this very long poem was in my Literary Theory course. I read it before the class, suffered through the analysis and was lucky enough so that it wasn’t asked in the final. And my story with Coleridge’s famous poem would’ve ended there, but it was in the syllabus of one of the classes I’m taking this semester.
So, I decided to take another shot at it. And to actually try to enjoy it.
I did.
It’s not an easy read, mind you. There’s a lot of details to pay attention to, so I’d recommend to read it more than once, just to appreciate it in its amazingness. Coleridges manages to create music with his words, and the world of the Ancient Mariner is full of magic in all its forms.
The story here is relatively simple. The Ancient Mariner singles out a guy from a wedding party and tells him that he’ll tell the guest his story. At first, the boy seems to think that the Mariner is someone deranged and tries to get rid of him, but when he looks at him, the guest is immediately drawn to him, as the Mariner is somewhat bewitching, in a horrid and creepy way.
The Mariner’s story begins with him and his crew facing a mysterious fog. Suddenly, an albatross (a bird considered to be a good omen), appear. The Mariner promptly shots it down. At first, the crew is horrified before such a sacrilege, but they forgive him easily enough when the fog disappears.
But the calm is short-lived, as soon the ship enters some sort of demonical place, where horrible things happen and Death itself appears to take their souls. After playing a game of dice with another creepy spirit (Life-in-Death), Death wins all the crew’s souls, except the Mariner’s. Life-in-Death gets the Mariner and decides to give him a fate that’s worse than death: he has to go around the world and tell his story to people who need to listen to it.
The scenes with Death and Life-in-Death are probably among the creepiest things I’ve ever read. And they gave me shivers and all that, despite showing a highly unlikely thing. There’s also a moment in which the dead crew looks at the Mariner with hate in their eyes and curse him silently. As creepy as it gets.
I’m really glad that I decided to read this again, because it was actually a great read. If you can, you should check out Richard Burton’s reading of it, because that’s actually very good and captures the musicality of this poem quite well.
So, I decided to take another shot at it. And to actually try to enjoy it.
I did.
It’s not an easy read, mind you. There’s a lot of details to pay attention to, so I’d recommend to read it more than once, just to appreciate it in its amazingness. Coleridges manages to create music with his words, and the world of the Ancient Mariner is full of magic in all its forms.
The story here is relatively simple. The Ancient Mariner singles out a guy from a wedding party and tells him that he’ll tell the guest his story. At first, the boy seems to think that the Mariner is someone deranged and tries to get rid of him, but when he looks at him, the guest is immediately drawn to him, as the Mariner is somewhat bewitching, in a horrid and creepy way.
The Mariner’s story begins with him and his crew facing a mysterious fog. Suddenly, an albatross (a bird considered to be a good omen), appear. The Mariner promptly shots it down. At first, the crew is horrified before such a sacrilege, but they forgive him easily enough when the fog disappears.
But the calm is short-lived, as soon the ship enters some sort of demonical place, where horrible things happen and Death itself appears to take their souls. After playing a game of dice with another creepy spirit (Life-in-Death), Death wins all the crew’s souls, except the Mariner’s. Life-in-Death gets the Mariner and decides to give him a fate that’s worse than death: he has to go around the world and tell his story to people who need to listen to it.
The scenes with Death and Life-in-Death are probably among the creepiest things I’ve ever read. And they gave me shivers and all that, despite showing a highly unlikely thing. There’s also a moment in which the dead crew looks at the Mariner with hate in their eyes and curse him silently. As creepy as it gets.
I’m really glad that I decided to read this again, because it was actually a great read. If you can, you should check out Richard Burton’s reading of it, because that’s actually very good and captures the musicality of this poem quite well.