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Hans Castorp: Who was he?

Nearly 700 close-spaced printed pages and minimizing the page margins, make the house of Hans Castorp a place where it is reassuring to venture for a player who is not accustomed to the great Russian novels or , reading the title of the novel whose protagonist is Hans ( The Magic Mountain), has been confused with the more controversial recent novels and serials, based on vampires and unsolved mysteries, with isolated villages and imposing castles from thin foundation literature. Moreover, the Corbaccio, which has the merit of having revived the readers a new edition of the powerful novel by Thomas Mann in 2011 in the series "The great writers, "he chose for the cover photo of a grim Alan Powdrill that hints at an eerie lake surrounded by a girdle of mountains, flattened by heavy clouds that are about to capture the only living being who has ventured into those places: a gull, which is easy to imagine a horrible fate. So the possibility of confusion to readers of vampire love is high.

Here, however, the fascination of death, of which Thomas Mann is a very skilled performer (think "Death in Venice") melts and mixes with a dry humor that the author has defined a very long short story that is " triumph a drunken mess of a life dedicated to the highest order . Hans Castorp comes from this order. When he arrives at the sanatorium, which will become the unchanging backdrop for his initiation to disorder , is drunk with solid and respectable consistency.

Then with an impalpable time stream will pass through the illness, love, passion, rationalism and the irrational pessimism, but in none of these transits will find the meaning of his research. Why is Hans Castorp explorer of souls and this will point to the waiting, the stillness as pick for the discovery.

Only when the

might have found it, realizing that " there are two roads that lead to life: one is the usual, direct, honest. The other is bad, leads through death and is brilliant ", will start to enjoy his discovery, which led him to disappear into the belly of the war.

Thomas Mann, in his speech at Princeton University, asked its readers to read The Magic Mountain at least twice in order to discover all that lay just beneath the surface of its large short story. It is not an easy. Many test themselves with this book and many drop out. " Too many issues, too many thoughts, too many descriptions, too little action, too much self-analysis, too ambitious, too much and just ."

These are the most common comments that I recorded on the book by those who abandoned him. All fairly understandable. We will not say that this is a constituent of the books of European literature of the twentieth century, nor I will tell you that you have to have a book, read, breathe, as many critics and writers have repeatedly reminded us.

's probably true. But what took me several times to take, leave, start over, throw out of bed this book was a single question: Who was really Hans Castorp?

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A word, a verse: Seventeenth - "discontinuity" The

discontinuity sf [der. discontinuity]. - 1. Lack of continuity, interruption in time or space, even in the sense fig. Of everything that is not continuous, consistent 2. In physics, abrupt changes in space or in time of a physical quantity.

An empty glass, broken plastic, goes back and forth on the window, invisible to passengers. The selected music flows in their thoughts, beats them, urges them to fail.

The hand holding the glass is dirty, almost like glass on which it rests.

is a desire mat that sticks to the life of someone else.

Someone arms thin and nervous, from the belly large and festive, one-eyed planted down in the floor of cigarette butts and bottle caps, someone who expects his hand to stop, that the glass disappears, the noise will confuse the next beep beep that stirs the doors of our time.

Here, all free, we can continue.

-

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Skaz and "Catcher in the Rye"

tidy up the old books, I happened to his hands, "The Cather in the Rye (Catcher in the Rye) Jerome David Salinger. One of the most popular books in the history of modern literature. A book of passage from adolescence to adulthood, found that many people will read in years when the anger is great and is easy to think of it explodes on fake shift breaking "all the big toes that in the body "(to use one of the brilliant and notorious jargon Holden / Salinger).

Who among us has not wanted, at least for a day, Holden Caulfield and be able to be so free from the crowd of babbioni around him? To finally say everything he had in mind, without fear of shocking, but rather with the passion to do it?

I is, sometimes I go again.

Catcher in the Rye, however, is also a very interesting text from the linguistic point of view, the emblem of the so-called style Skaz "Ie connected to a first-person narrative that has the characteristic of the spoken word rather than written.

The player He comes often in constant repetition, slang, exaggeration is not justified, grammatical errors. In short, everything to which any creative writing manual warns him. Yet it is precisely this conscious and skillful blend of shortcomings to make the perfect book and dramatically new. Few writers would be able to stay for the entire novel, I stood inside the rails of the slang of a seventeen year old, without poetic metaphors, pretentious reflections and jumps rhythmic.

Everything is perfectly integrated into the mind of Holden and running on our lips clean, leaving the implication that pervades the narrative take root a bit 'more to us at every rereading.

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"At most of the night" by Michael Cunningham - impressions - part

The value of this book is to be able to make interesting normality.

Peter, a prototype of the "charge-sensitive" (trapped by his feelings of guilt in a life that feels right but not its ), continuous and relentless pursuit of evidence that its diversity, discovers, "rediscovered", to be too normal.

His anxieties, his fears, his conflicting certainties, his doubts are also dangerous in other . The difference seems to be in the management of these doubts that Peter will bring to question his whole life and never get to make that choice definitive envy his brother, his wife and worship in fear in her daughter.

But this is an illusion. The safety of the other characters is a mind-reading Peter, apparently necessary to encourage it to decide, although completely ineficace. Peter is then normal like all other this awareness and the worn-out, forcing it to create patterns that show that is still not too late to be different.

"At most of the night" is a treasure trove of metaphors and stylistic refinement, as often happens in the novels of Cunningham, where the unspoken which dwells in the mind of the characters is the best dialogues possible. The reader will remain entangled in discourses that run silently in the mind of Peter, much to feel a visceral discomfort by a number of dialogues "real."

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Trip to Monteluco Spoleto!


Sport Group Saturday, May 14 Parish organizes a nice day out in that Monteluco of Spoleto.

The day's program includes:
7.30 am departure from the room, will travel "all together" in a fantastic coaches from 46 seats.
Arrive at your destination where you can run, walk, jump and play together in spectacular green fields, woods and winding paths
(...) as well as visit a Franciscan sanctuary .
Lunch is packed, but the bag it prepare us will leave equipped with tables, benches, water, wine and something to loose. Obviously the bus (with service toilets) is also suitable for children, parents should take the seat to fasten safety belts.

start in the afternoon to enable us to return to the 20.30.

The cost for the bus will be 10 € for adults and € 5 for children, not including costs for lunch today as incalculable.

make reservations by mail at the m.fineschi @ gmail.com

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"At most of the night" by Michael Cunningham - impressions - before Part

Caught between the silence of his long dissertations protagonist (Peter), Michael Cunningham takes us "on the edge of the night" at the edge of the abyss that is called choice and then leaves us there: confused, depressed, eager and amiably doubtful.

The first pages of the novel are suspended between the state and the dreaded, inviting us in a dangerous world, that of free thought which is incompatible with the decision, the existence of the budget which is incompatible with the satisfaction, that the questioning of the relationships most important, without which we can not live and because of which it begins to evaporate slowly.

It's all here the crux of the book: the choice to change his life, work, sexuality, needs and desires. A choice that, after being under pressure to force the responsibilities and needs of others, in a memory stick and from there spreads innocent in his mind, leaving no room for any pleasure. Peter will try to ignore it, as do all (really?) Of crumpled behind one of the many desires broken, caging in times of tight labor relations, even affection, always trying for a foothold not do it.

Questions. Hundreds of questions engorge the mind of Peter.

- Is it true that attraction to Erry test, the brother of his wife? Or do you envy because it has everything that Peter now wants (freedom, irresponsibility, blame from relatives in affectionate courtship)?

- Is it true that his work is not interested anymore?

- Is it true that he always pretended to people that were close?

- Is it true that he can no longer understand each other?

The characters revolving around Peter not help him to find the longed-for security, to demonstrate that its choice is objectively right and then to implement, because that is what Peter wants: a safe-conduct for his guilt. I do not get to the end and when, without warning, his wife Rebecca will see him one, Peter will ignore it, outraged by the presumption of another human being dares to say what he always thought and was never able to reveal.

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A word, a verse: Sixteenth - "stall" A bare tree

temporize v. intr. [Lat. medievalists. timed to "pass time", der. tempus-Poris of "time"] (I stalled, etc. aus. have). - 1. Linger, take time waiting for the opportune moment comes to act or that the situation resolves itself. 2. ant. or rare. Act according to circumstances and opportunity; juggle.

pick up shoots of ideas between the words of others, restrained gestures, tears parted and then broken in the days ahead. Hours of which can still speak, on which we can still construct a different season. Better or worse, is often not important, just that it is elsewhere. Far .

Far from a small, crowded, narrow street where we seem to be planted as lemons among the reeds. Similar to each other, and buildings seem to block us up, but that they sway back and forth is an illusion, they do it for us to believe that it is better to wait temporize, until the wind has calmed down, until it will be easier to get out of the groove without bothering anyone.

And while growing up, fast and quiet s'infittiscono, stealing land, to shield the light, and whisper that to forget is the only way to escape .

Yes, run away.

Elsewhere, far away.

few days, yes, we do it in a few days.

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Great and unexpected rises in the audience and the ceiling, skinned words from the ceiling of gilded wood: they fall down, slowly, without bothering to be always the same.

are the tree and therefore are better.

Best of the beholder, the neck tended to wait for the news that hotly, the gesture stronger. Is it more just bow down to it, or fight, nervous and insecure, so that the time steps and underpinning, no one can hear it. Nobody can prove it.

Building the text of the thoughts is flooding, layers of a carpet with too many holes, the body will slip out waiting for a call that says, "Here I am coming."

It does not move.

The subtle surprise is an animal, is a shadow of pleasure which crumbles in your mouth, too soon .

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Don Michelangelo goes "board "..... Dinner

Hello, for those who still do not know Don Michelangelo finished
utime the office of abbot general, will leave Monteoliveto
going to spend his "retirement" in the monastery's sanctuary Olivetan
Madonna di Picciano, in Basilicata.

Next Sunday, February 6, Monteoliveto to celebrate the Mass of
11 and on occasion greet brothers and friends.
He wants to see and greet the people close to him.
start Monday morning.

Please forward the information to those who feel concerned

Greetings!

Alessandro.

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time to write?

In the village cunning and lack of respect, loud and unnecessary files (for the few that do not come from nowhere), the ranking of kindergartens and ghost do not exist, of 'extremism and individualism without limitation, the short memory and the excessive flexibility of belief, there are still thousands of people who write. The extent of this phenomenon is only superficially appreciated the number of unpublished novels that arrive every day at various publishing houses, set or not, now that arise in every corner of the country. Just think of newspapers, paper and virtual, internet sites, to blogs, mail to, and appreciated the old signs still present during the protest marches.

We want to express ourselves, we want to explain, we want to ask for help, we want to be famous, we want to hear without it being possible for the other reply. It would be particularly interesting to ask why and to what end? If we are all committed to writing in an attempt to get our message to someone who, a few inches from us, is doing exactly the same thing, who will be willing to listen to us?

In an article devoted to some emerging authors, which appeared a few days ago on a major Italian weekly review, remember how important it was for writers to promote their work because publishers, especially smaller ones, were no longer able to do so. It is necessary, peremptorily claimed the journalist, an author who writes about blogs, magazines, on facebook, twitter, participate in events where he can hear and be heard and all that devotes much of his time with frequency and consistency. The writer must construct its public debut before his book is available , so that its already loyal readers do not need the investment sales of the publishing house to know and understand. At a time when the author was "available" this "basic readers / customers" will propose to the publishers, who at this point will not even need to evaluate his work.

looks like a coherent narrative of the times we live in, where is the visibility more than what we make it visible to be important. And though some publishers are still a serious breeding work on the contents (and image) of the potential new author, we return to the previous question: "Is there a basis readers / customers still available to read and especially to really listen to all these new voices? Because if the publisher can buy enough of the 'product book, the writer should be read in the real heart of his work and especially the impact it could have on readers, even only in strengthening and ideas contrary to those of 'author.

then I leave the word to Anton Chekhov: " Read yourself any detail and, even more, writing for the press is for me a true martyrdom ."

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A word, a verse: Sixteenth - "perseverance"

persevere v. intr. [From Lat. persevere, der. Severus 'harsh'] (I persevered, etc. aus. have). - Persist, remain firm and constant in purpose, actions, carrying out an activity: p. in the well, undertaking, work, study, in the fight; Less com. with negative connotations: PM worse, the vice, the dishonesty, prov., to err is human, p. (Error) is evil.

Lying on your couch, with the TV volume to a minimum and a plaid orange legs, look at the rain hitting the glass of your windows nervous, as if to break them, as if he had joined the crowd of beggars around you every day, asking time, work, play .

you try to resist, to defend that clipping of passions and projects that you stubbornly drag behind, locked in a backpack that starts to seem too shabby and horribly "juvenile". Would you like to get up, open the window and scream in the rain to stop. Would you like to open the backpack and try to catch the desire that still moves, crushed at the bottom of your years; would like to empty the bag, spilling all the cuttings on the ground, then fly them out of the time in which to vegetate persist. Faces of lime on the bodies of velvet, the shaking on the screen in front of you, demanding your attention, I order you to fill his knapsack.

Would you like to turn off the damn box, stop listening to those who have made their wishes chopping those of others, demonstrating that ignoring the rules is the best choice.

The rain increases the meantime, his strokes becoming more tight, disturbing your illusions and forcing them to return to a body that, for some time, not yours.

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"Trust In"

a sunset and a trip ...
introspective to discover new horizons and unmentionable fears.
The goal is clear. You just have to decide how to take
reach.

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"Me and You" by Niccolo Ammaniti

When Lorenzo gets large? When he loses the tenacious distance from the world, a world who does not understand and which inevitably feel different to wear the patina of aseptic middle class hospitality when they found her parents? The arrival of the sister Olivia, so fascinating in its diversity combative, it's really the point of no return to the childhood of Lawrence? Or maybe in his course of action and thought is especially the meeting with death to make a difference? The death that everyone, sooner or later we must face as it tells the same character at the beginning of the text: " Nasci, go to school, work and die ." It is death to decide in this tense tale of Amman, which begins and ends touching, spying, and feel it moving just below the surface of the words that you cling to each other, stuck to the old boxes that live in the cellar where a boy of fourteen years (Lawrence) tries to escape from the flow inexorable identified by him in that " Nasci, go to school, work and die ." and for which there is no sound at all brought. And so the notes that move the dead around him, announced that Olivia, desired that his grandmother, the Countess's necessary that allowed his parents to take possession of their home. In each there is the search for a confirmation of himself, already perfect and inevitably different from his classmates built, but already mastered the art of the chameleon silent as the only device to get to lay their lives in the banks that these deaths are drawing, because indeed " things, once you think, what need is there to say? "

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Air New

Standing sardine man among thousands of similar attempts to sneak in a bubble of fresh air that compressed between incense and body odor, moves suspended over the heads of a multitude of pilgrims.

Only this man sees sardine: heads.

arms, hands, legs, mouths, words, nothing is left, only necks or faces, depending on the direction in which watching herd flow. Head forward, all agree on the place from which should come the realization of the deepest desires and appreciated. Link to a huge lens red door, which seems to move in hypnosis marked pitch, get larger, more hungry.

the first door, the man discovers sardine two other gates, beyond which new rules, those of the soul, wait heads, while rabbits of pink paper enjoy the show, thinking they were just born, but already smarter than that continuous flow.

man springs around the river sardine, stands of old tastes and tinkling objects close ranks, boiled chestnuts in abundance and fish. Raw fish, even in the sugar-covered biscuits, fried fish, dried fish, frosted, eviscerated, boiled for hours until the smell of desire that is most important, to remind the witness that the end that awaits them is common and then it's better to eat, in small controlled steps, continue, until the drum becomes unbearable, the space does not exist, the toss of a coin to ask what nobody has to know, a violent gesture liberating and that you will not forget.

sardine

The human hand is there, like that of the other was suspended in the air to overcome the currency groped to the crowd before him and finish the big rack that engulfs everything neatly.

Then the crowd pushes the man out of the sardine temple, three hours were consumed and sardine man you just have a cookie nibbled by fish meal, with a glaze of brown algae. He wanted it to be chocolate, but can not complain. His greatest desire is another, one might expect. Incense gets lost, their heads are not so agree on where to go, want to go out, want to escape, they want fresh air, fresh air here for today will suffice.