Resultado de "Alejandro Zambra" em Todas as categorias

O protagonista deste romance magnético, Gonzalo, é um aspirante a poeta e padrasto de Vicente, um menino viciado em comida de gatos, que mais tarde vai se recusar a ir à faculdade porque seu sonho é seguir os passos do pai postiço e se tornar também poeta (apesar dos conselhos de sua mãe orgulhosamente solitária, Carla, e de seu pai, León, um tipo duvidoso que se dedica a colecionar carros em miniatura).

From the author of My Documents and Chilean Poet, a wise, humorous, and captivating literary exploration of the delights and absurdities of childhood, fatherhood, and family life.

Durante buena parte de esta novela Gonzalo es un poetastro que quiere ser poeta y un padrastro que se comporta como si fuera el padre biológico de Vicente, un niño adicto a la comida para gatos que años más tarde se niega a estudiar en la universidad porque su sueño principal es convertirse -también- en poeta, a pesar de los consejos de Carla, su orgullosamente solitaria madre, y de León, un padre mediocre dedicado a coleccionar autitos de juguete.

Condenado a la seriedad y a la impostura, Julio, el silencioso protagonista de este libro, acaba convenciéndose de que es mejor encerrarse en su cuarto a observar el crecimiento de un bonsái que vagar por los incómodos caminos de la literatura. Es ésta, como dice el narrador, "una historia liviana que se pone pesada", un relato elíptico y vertiginoso marcado por la inquietante desaparición de una mujer.

When it was first published in 2006, then-literary critic and poet Alejandro Zambra’s first novel, Bonsai, caused a sensation. Here, in a brilliant new translation from four-time International Booker Prize nominee Megan McDowell, is the little book that started it all: The story of Julio and Emilia, two Chilean university students who, seeking truth in great literature, find one another instead. As they fall together and drift apart over the course of young adulthood, Zambra spins an emotionally engrossing, expertly distilled, formally inventive tale of love, art, and memory.

When he arrives in Cuba at the close of the eighteenth century, Victor Hugues, a merchant sailor from Marseille, brings with him not only the idealism of the French Revolution but also its ambition and bloodlust. Landing at the Havana doorstep of a trio of wealthy, eccentric Creole orphans, he sweeps them across the Caribbean Sea to Guadeloupe, whose enslaved Africans he frees only then to exploit them in his fight against the British for colonial sovereignty. What ensues in Alejo Carpentier’s magical realist masterpiece is an explosive clash between the New World and the Old World.

Aunque este singular e inclasificable libro de Alejandro Zambra se llama Literatura infantil, conviene advertir que incluye un magnífico cuento que gira en torno al lenguaje grosero y un relato directamente lisérgico en que un hombre intenta, en pleno viaje terapéutico de hongos, volver a aprender el dificilísimo arte de gatear. En caso de que algún niño llegara accidentalmente a estas páginas, debería leerlas en compañía de un adulto, a pesar de que aquí son precisamente los niños quienes, a su manera, protegen a los adultos del desánimo, el egocentrismo y la dictadura del tiempo cronológico.

After a chance encounter at a Santiago nightclub, aspiring poet Gonzalo reunites with his first love, Carla. Though their desire for each other is still intact, much has changed: among other things, Carla now has a six-year-old son, Vicente. Soon the three form a happy sort-of family—a stepfamily, though no such word exists in their language. Eventually, their ambitions pull the lovers in different directions—in Gonzalo’s case, all the way to New York. Though Gonzalo takes his books when he goes, still, Vicente inherits his ex-stepfather’s love of poetry.

An early desktop computer becomes the third partner in a doomed relationship; an older brother figure whose father lives in exile imparts hilarious life lessons to his young protégé. A man attempts to quit smoking despite the fact that he’s very good at it; another masquerades as the family man he'll never be. Throughout, Pinochet’s dictatorship casts a long shadow, and men in relationships exhibit their profound capacity for both love and harm.

Veronica is late, and Julián is increasingly convinced she won't ever come home. To pass the time, he improvises a story about trees to coax his stepdaughter, Daniela, to sleep. He has made a life as a literature professor, developing a novel about a man tending to a bonsai tree on the weekends. He is a narrator, an architect, a chronicler of other people's stories. But as the night stretches on before him, and the hours pass with no sign of Veronica, Julián finds himself caught up in the slipstream of the story of his life—of their lives together.

Verónica tarda, Verónica se demora inexplicablemente y el libro sigue hasta que ella regrese o hasta que Julián esté seguro de que ya no volverá. De eso va La vida privada de los árboles: de la noche larga y tal vez definitiva que Julián pasa esperando que su mujer regrese, que el libro termine. Hacia el final de esta, la segunda novela de Alejandro Zambra, Julián desea ser una voz en off, un coleccionista de historias ajenas; quiere escribir y no ser escrito, pero esperar es dejarse escribir: esperar es seguir una constante deriva de imágenes.