Es como si Forrest Gump y Edward Bloom (Big Fish) se hubieran conocido y hubieran decidido contar una historia juntos. Al menos esa es la impresión quEs como si Forrest Gump y Edward Bloom (Big Fish) se hubieran conocido y hubieran decidido contar una historia juntos. Al menos esa es la impresión que me dio en un principio. Aunque no se entienda gran cosa de lo que expone, la novela tiene un ritmo envidiable que engancha sin sentir realmente que te estén aclarando las cosas.
El libro está escrito de manera inusual. Los episodios no están contados de forma cronológica, la novela ni siquiera tiene una cohesión definida aunque estos se ordenasen de forma estricta. Son como entradas cortas escritas por una mente que casualmente recuerda algo, pierde el hilo de la conversación porque tiene un recuerdo intrusivo de un tema distinto aunque vagamente relacionado, y retoma el relato en un punto que no tiene por qué coincidir con aquel donde lo había dejado.
El estilo infantil con que narra los acontecimientos se puede calificar de impaciente en su brevedad y concisión, pero es más bien un recurso adicional para mostrar el completo entumecimiento del protagonista ante los eventos que se suceden. Un adormecimiento emocional que le hace enfrentarse a la vida sin ninguna confrontación. Ocurre, pues, lo contrario: Billy Pilgrim se deja llevar, como un peregrino sin un camino fijo, sin un destino definido, que se encoge de hombros ante cada pena y tampoco se ve muy conmovido ante cada alegría. Su mecanismo de supervivencia es la pasividad. Su método para lidiar con la vida es no lidiar con ella. Por eso mismo es muy ocurrente la trama de los viajes en el tiempo y de un planeta lejano que nos observa y nos descubre que todo fue y será al mismo tiempo que es, y no tiene sentido intervenir y luchar contra ello. Es, a la vez, un método de evasión ante una realidad insoportable, y una justificación para un comportamiento que nadie parece entender ni nadie parece juzgar como extraño sino como locura.
La desrealización del personaje no es, por lo tanto, un capricho. Él siente que su mente sale de su cuerpo y pone en un mismo plano todos los momentos de su existencia. También sus seres queridos quedan en un plano con el mismo significado que le otorga a sus compañeros de prisión en Alemania o las víctimas de un bombardeo lejos de su hogar o con los extraterrestres que le abducen y le observan tras la noche artificial de un zoo. Todo suena con la misma nota musical, nada destaca realmente.
Pío-pío-pí. Así fue. Pío-pío-pí. Así es la vida.
Sin embargo, a pesar de lo dramático de las situaciones por las que nos vemos abocados a presenciar, los acontecimientos tienen un tinte cómico impactante y surrealista. El humor que se desprende camina entre la perplejidad y la morbosidad, como si no fuera con él en absoluto.
Me encanta el estilo, es sencillo pero muy difícil de lograr, organizado en forma de entregas dirigidas a Dios o de cartas que cruzan océanos. Es un rMe encanta el estilo, es sencillo pero muy difícil de lograr, organizado en forma de entregas dirigidas a Dios o de cartas que cruzan océanos. Es un relato demoledor en toda la miseria humana que desentierra, pero el mensaje que transmite es esperanzador y luminoso. Te da varias lecciones de vida (y filosóficas) casi sin sentir que te las están dando. Una delicia de lectura....more
Coincido mucho con el prólogo que viene incluida en esta edición. La trama de esta novela es maqueta de la sociedad en la que vivimos: cuando queremosCoincido mucho con el prólogo que viene incluida en esta edición. La trama de esta novela es maqueta de la sociedad en la que vivimos: cuando queremos jugar pero terminamos en la guerra. El hombre lleva el conflicto inherente en su persona y los errores se repiten.
"Uno tiene miedo porque la gente siempre tiene miedo."
Siempre hay ambiciones, y cada líder persigue la suya propia, por lo que el grupo finalmente sufre una escisión según de dónde se sitúen sus propios intereses y ambiciones, y entonces cada oponente quiere imponer sus propias reglas, respaldados por el poder que otorga la posesión de una fuente indispensable de bienestar. En este caso, un bando tiene el poder del fuego, que significa calor, capacidad de cocinar, de crear humo y proveer de una señal que les permita ser avistados y rescatados por la sociedad salvadora. Por el otro lado, el bando opuesto dispone de la caza, la provisión de proteína y alimento y protección contra la "bestia", creando una danza y una religión con el fin de ahuyentar la mala suerte y lograr desplazar la ira de aquello que sienten que les amenaza.
Cómo empujan las cosas a su favor y cómo aprovechan el momento y cómo percibir que la hipotética pérdida del poder si se osase actuar de una manera u otra según la oportunidad. El poder es un equilibro frágil que no funciona solo con el castigo eminente de una entidad más fuerte, requiere un trasfondo y una necesidad y el apoyo de aquellos a los que se domina. La influencia sobre requiere una habilidad que no está al alcance de todo el mundo y que además se presenta como una realidad muy voluble e incluso caprichosa.
"La gente no ayuda mucho."
El hombre es un lobo para el hombre, dijo Hobbes. William Golding lo expone en lo que consideraríamos más puro e inocente en el ser humano: en la figura de los niños. Piggy es la voz de la razón que transcribe dicho pensamiento a lo largo de la obra. Por otra parte, también gustó Simon, el iluminado que descubre una verdad y lo que le ocurre por intentar revelarla.
"Quizá haya una bestia (...) Lo que quiero decir es que... a lo mejor somos nosotros."
La bestia está en el interior de cada uno, y son la cultura, sociedad, la educación, las leyes, las reglas y la censura los que mantienen a raya el instinto destructor y todo aquello de lo que nos avergonzamos.
"¡Las normas son lo único que tenemos!"
Y otro aspecto que me llamó mucho la atención: la dilución de la responsabilidad cuando hay otros, y cuando llevamos una máscara que oculta nuestro ser. Si hay otros, los otros lo hicieron también, entonces no soy malo. Si llevo una máscara, no soy yo, entonces no soy malo.
Y las consecuencias que se derivan de ello.
"Me da miedo y por eso le conozco. Si alguien te da miedo, le odias, pero no puedes dejar de pensar en él."
No podía evitar acordarme de ese capítulo de Los Simpsons....more
So it was hard and stomach-revolting at times, so I had to stop in the middle and have it in stand-by, but I guess expectation is worse than reality, So it was hard and stomach-revolting at times, so I had to stop in the middle and have it in stand-by, but I guess expectation is worse than reality, because in a single day I read the whole volume #2.
The humor balances the drama so it doesn't get too heavy, too dark. If I had to use a word to describe it I would say BOLD. It's bold in the font, it's bold in the lines, it's bold in the storyline, it's bold in the absence of color, it's bold in the descriptions, it's bold in the actions and decisions of the animals that appear, it's bold in the caricaturization of the characters in mouses and cats, pigs and dogs, fish and reindeers. It's bold in its ground-breaking style, in more sense than one.
This is the perfect example how things that start out meh can turn into something utterly marvelous. When I read that Kleypas-y beginning I felt like This is the perfect example how things that start out meh can turn into something utterly marvelous. When I read that Kleypas-y beginning I felt like rolling my eyes six ways to sunday. I thought this was going to become my next big mistake.
Only it wasn’t.
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Yes, I’m pretty lame myself, choosing a book with a guy with retrograde amnesia. I plead guilty. The plot says it all: simple, obvious and straight to the point. The character is in a situation of vulnerability and lacking all the social and personal inhibitions that used to stop him from showing his real emotions. But once that obstacle disappears, there is only the raw longings and desires. And the object of such desire is… Yes! The other guy! As it should be.
Everything had a specific path and it was already written. Predictable, silly, definitely entertaining and of course with some PWP sex. Sounded like a plan!
I even made some popcorn. I was ready.
Only I wasn’t.
So, if you are looking for that book, you better start running now, because this is not a book for you.
This book lied to me on page 1 and I’m glad of that.
This book hides a beautiful story of two men with the enemies’ shots flying over their heads. This book is about jumping from planes and crashing into the ground and shutting down that afraid little voice in your head that begs you not to jump. This books is about weeks in the cold trenches in the middle of winter, with food running short, with supplies at the minimum and with only a dimming little hope to enlighten their hears. A hope that they will make it to Christmas, to the end of the hell on Earth. This book is about those liberty days secluded in a room and scratching a moment here and there. A one more moment together. A moment together alive. And about comradeship and death.
It’s not a heavy book, and it’s not long, either. But it’s definitely not the cheap version I pictured in my head when I decided to pick it up. Don’t let that cover fool you, it’s more epic than that. It’s much more than the amnesia easy plot. It’s of course not a PWP novel. The ending surprised me, in a good way.
The love story is sweet. And the setting is interesting and different from everything else I’ve read. But there were several things that didn’t allow The love story is sweet. And the setting is interesting and different from everything else I’ve read. But there were several things that didn’t allow me to enjoy this fully.
Let’s begin with the obvious: how many books have I read that is set in Philippines? Zero. So, yes, this is the first one. No, I'm not an expert in this area, but I know a thing or two.
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The Philippines has always bedazzled me. It’s the only hispanic country in Asia, which by itself is a rarity. When you look at the old photos you see hospitals, universities, churches, cathedrals, markets, streets and the like that are clearly not Chinese or Japanese or like any other country in the area. They have their own culture, their own fashion, their own cuisine. I had a Filipino English teacher and she said the lechón was a typical dish. Imagine my face when I knew they eat the food of Segovia.
[image] [image] (Metro station in Madrid)
The main part of the population is Catholic which by itself is shocking when we are speaking about Asia. My Philippine teacher herself was educated by nuns. She doesn’t speak Spanish but her grandpa was a Spaniard who married a Filipina. So I can kind of imagine that love story here.
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I only know her but amongst my English-speaking teachers, she had the best accent, maybe only beaten by the Canadian one. Yes, I know I should not overgeneralize because I have only properly met one Filipina in my life but so far I can tell her accent is the easiest to understand in comparison to the Australian, American and English ones. By a long shot.
Here is what Spanish people know about Philippines, and that’s being generous. A while ago, an expedition paid by the Kingdom of Castile pushed Magallanes to achieve the first circumnavigation of the Earth. He died in the Philippines, so Elcano finished the task and reached the Iberian Peninsula (1522). Some decades later Legazpi came and founded Manila and Cebu. Then some centuries until the Spanish-American War and the Crisis of 1898.
That’s all.
Nothing about the Manila Galleon or the battles against the Japanese or the Dutch or the like.
So I try to know more and read everything I can find out there. Considering I read almost exclusively M/M, it wasn’t easy. But not impossible.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t wholly satisfied with the Spanish impression here. The problem I have with this book is not that there are inconsistent historical facts. I think the author did a hell of a job here. But I believe she’s “ignoring” the American presence in Philippines and outlining the Spanish details in a way I can’t consider entirely true and it's more negative than not. I don’t want to be skeptical, but when the Americans’ actions are so cool and the Spanish ones are so bad, it does not inspire trust. It’s like a bad guy versus a good buy and this dichotomy is not subtle.
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I don’t want to give you a lecture but I don’t feel comfortable overlooking everything that rubbed me the wrong way. I’m giving you an out here.
Here there are some examples.
“He’d studied all the countries Spain had colonized for centuries, and the Philippines had invariably come up in their discussion.”
When Rome conquered Spain, Spain didn’t exist yet. It was a land full of Iberos and other tribes when the Celts invaded it. Then the Greek, Phoenician and Carthaginian came and established colonies in the coast. Then the Roman became powerful and coveted the land for her metals and people. The conquest lasted 2 centuries (219 BD -19AD, take that, Asterix and Obelix!) and they called that land “Hispania” (Spain+Portugal), and she became a province in the Roman Empire. This is what formed the “idea” of a nation when Hispania stopped being part of the Empire. Hispania stopped being part of Rome because in order to defend the Empire from the barbarians, they had to ask for help and give a part of it to the Centro European people. Meaning: Hispania was sold and invaded by the Sueves, Vandals and Alans. But then the Goths expelled them and ruled over it and it became a nation: Hispania. It didn’t last long as soon the Islam came.
Why is this so important? Philippines was named after King Phillip II. But before that? Using the same argument as with the Roman Empire: Spain ruled over lands that weren’t countries yet. Mexico didn’t exist and Phillippines didn’t exist. The same way USA began its existence after the Independence. The term “colony” is very popular in the English language: “the 13 American Colonies”. Spain never referred to the territories as the “colonies”, she was compounded by “viceroyalties” or “kingdoms”: Viceroyalty of New Spain, of Río de la Plata, of Perú, of New Granada… even Navarre and Naples and Portugal had viceroys. It means they had autonomy. Considering we are speaking about centuries ago. We can’t criticise past actions with the mentality we have nowadays. Civilization progresses at its own speed. Philippines, Puerto Rico and Cuba were captaincies general included in New Spain.
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“The prevalent use of the Castilian language among the guest he’d met so far only confirmed the info he’d received when first landing on Philippine soil. The Spaniards still thought they were in charge. John figured that fantasy would have been obliterated by then, since they’d had given up the Philippines in 1898, but it seemed to be deeply rooted in Philippine culture.”
I’m going to avoid reading between lines: Spaniards are assholes.
Spain didn’t “give up” just like that. There was a war. The Spanish-American War. The old tired lion was no menace for a young eagle who would eventually become the first world power. The Conquest of the Wild West was done and the horizon was not definite yet. I won’t tell it here because this is not the place nor the time. I just want to say 1898 is a year most consider insignificant, but for Spain it was the “Disaster of ‘98” and it’s no coincidence we still use the popular saying “More was lost in Cuba”. It was indeed a turning point in Spain. There was an economic and social crisis and a literary movement called the “Generation of 98”. It was the year Spain become a third class power for good, the official year the Spanish Empire ended.
I wish Isaac Peral had been paid attention. A submarine or two would have come in handy then.
But what happened, happened.
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Anyway, History is written by the victors and the Spanish Black Legend is still very alive.
“The Spaniards don’t consider me a part of their world, even though my father was pure Castilian”.
False, he was Basque, not Castilian. I honestly don’t understand this statement, it would be more logical to say he was Spanish, because Greg truly doesn’t know who his father was.
“And furthermore,” Greg blustered, “there are universities in Manila older than your famous Harvard. Did you know that?”
“No.”
“The University of Santo Tomás was founded in 1611. I believe Harvard wasn’t a thought until 1636.”
Why, universities? By the Spaniards? How do you dare?! Spaniards were fanatical people who were obsessed about enslaving and killing and getting all the gold they could! How can you say they had universities when Science and Arts were crushed under the Inquisition’s heel? And in Philippines, no less. Universities! You offend me! *snorts*
*ironic mode off*
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There are lots of Spanish words included in the book. My Filipina teacher said they had lots of Spanish words in the Tagalog. Then we have the chavacano, which sounds like a very sweet Spanish and the written version is strange and familiar at the same time. But nowadays less than 3% of the population speaks chavacano (which is not small considering there are more than 100 million people in Philippines). Why is that?
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Well, for starters, although the Spanish was the official language, it was never widespread throughout the Filipino population. It was of course spoken by the upper classes, mostly those who lived in the big cities, but also by the intellectuals and cultured people, those who had the means to pay for an education (this group didn’t necessarily include only those of European ancestry). It was by far less common in other classes and areas, which shouldn’t come as a surprise because there are more than 150 languages in the archipelago.
It’s also interesting to point out that many writers in Philippines wrote their works in Spanish, based on my research. The funny fact is that this “Golden Age” of Philippine literature was written in Spanish while and after she drifted apart from Spain, and even to talk about the independence and the nationalism. The first Philippine anthem was written in Spanish. Ironic, isn’t it?
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Still, after the Philippine-American War, the Spanish language was forbidden in Philippines. Only English was allowed. The “Kill everyone over the age of ten” claimed many Spanish-speaking victims. Some of the works mentioned before were forbidden in Philippines and had to be published elsewhere. Lots of them were not even published but have been rotting in the oblivion ever since. Literally speaking, because in a country on which Mother Nature loves to download all her force, you can’t make light of it. Luckily, last time I checked, the Instituto Cervantes in Manila was beginning an operation to bring these works to the light.
But if language is not enough, we also have to take into consideration the WWII and the destruction of the cultural heritage and historical monuments of Manila, the place where the Spanish influence was stronger. Intramuros was demolished as a whole after the pattern bombing to kick the Japanese out, corpses included. Unfortunately, this massacre is even more unknown that that one in Leningrad/Saint Petersburg and Warsaw, but no less bloody and sad.
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“Hordes of mosquitoes had also feasted on his tender flesh like cannibals. It was no wonder the Marines drummed in the importance of taking the tiny yellow pills to ward off malaria. The Atabrine tasted vile, but it actually kept the disease away, as did the mosquito nets when they had a chance to use them.”
This is a pity. This was a time when anti-malarial drugs were truly effective. In the 50s-60s there was an aggressive campaign run by the WHO whose objective was to erase the disease once and for all, the same way it was done with the smallpox, and the same way it’s being done with the polio. They were close to achieving it. But there were resistant strains that survived and the disease went out of hand again. The same with tuberculosis, one of the most widespread infectious diseases; it’s a real challenge figuring out how to control them.
References to nativity scenes, San Miguel beer, merienda, siesta… It could perfectly be Spain. Which makes me happy and nostalgic at the same time, with all those similarities.
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“Greg was lucky his family had close ties to the Saenzes, and as such, he reaped some of the rewards of their wealth.”
That “the Saenzes” sounds super weird. I know that in English it’s normal to use the plural that way, but in Spanish we would say “los Sáenz”, the article determining the plurality of the noun. I don’t know if in the Philippines it’s said like the Spanish version or the American one, though.
Sometimes, it felt an encyclopedia rather than a novel, with so many foods and customs and discussions now and then. I was interested in these details because it’s what makes this book different from the rest. But sometimes it dragged on.
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Despite all of this, it was more or less bearable, because the love story is beautiful and lovely. With the added charm of it being forbidden in an exotic environment. So, as a whole, it was pleasant, if not truly poignant and captivating. I never had a rush to read the book but wasn’t repelled by it, either.
But then the shit hit the fan. And I was utterly upset.
There is a scene close to the end that seems taken from a soap opera. It’s like the Crowded Cabin scene from the Marx’ Brothers movie but with a drama queen-ish hint. Seriously.
(view spoiler)[Victoria is at home. Greg comes very distressed. Then Don Ignacio comes, tries to hit Greg. Then John appears and avoids it. Then Don Luis comes and OMG, what’s going on here? (hide spoiler)]
It was a bit too much for my taste.
Then I put two and two together and realised something: the Spaniards were the bad guys. When you want to portray someone as nasty and despicable, you draw them as complete idiots or as ugly jerks. So I made my calculations:
Don Ignacio: an asshole. Don Luis: an asshole. Doña Carmen: a fat bitch. Petunia: a fat bitch.
The only Spanish who deserved to be saved from being burnt alive was Daisy, who, by the way, was an airhead. And Lily, who was rather simple.
But the American? He’s perfect.
Americans win, Spaniards suck. Please, repeat. Americans win, Spaniards suck. Did you learnt it already or should I repeat it again?
Then the definite ending. (view spoiler)[Victoria is pregnant. (hide spoiler)] It’s like... are you for real? Are you fooling me with this forced resolution of things? This too much, I can’t digest all this surreality. Perfect ending for John and Greg, it solves everything… Right?
I’m out.
So yes, I was a little annoyed by this and ended the book frustrated and a little offended, if you may.
It could have been marvelous, but it wasn’t. I guess I took it too personally, maybe I made a huge issue out of it. So please, don’t discard this book completely yet. But I can’t help my feelings in this.
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***Copy provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.*** ...more
Tanner is an American soldier fighting in an island on what's today called Papua New Guinea where me meets anA bright spot in all the darkness of war.
Tanner is an American soldier fighting in an island on what's today called Papua New Guinea where me meets an Australian youth, Nick, who serves as a coast-watcher. Nick has lived in the place his whole life, he knows it like the back of his hand. Nick is well-known for his radio broadcasts during his incursions, which gave him the nickname of Blue Sky Guy.
Tanner recognizes him instantly, and they both decide to have a perfect night together. Because the future is uncertain and the past doesn't matter.
In just a few pages, Lisa Henry manages to convey what she wants to convey.
So short and so many emotions.
Tanner couldn’t hate the war, not entirely. Maybe without it there would have been other men, other nights that almost reached the heights of this one, but Tanner couldn’t know for certain. It seemed a lot to take on faith. He only knew that the war had given him one perfect night with Nick. Out of the chaos and the madness and the horror, the war had given him Nick. And this place, this point in time, suffused everything that had gone before with meaning.
There were hundred of men, hundred of thousands, who would never find meaning in any of this.
Yesterday, Tanner was one of them.
Now, he wouldn’t change a thing.
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Tanner raised himself up onto his elbow. He stared down at Nick, and Nick’s grin faded away. Tanner leaned down and kissed him gently. “You take care of yourself, Nick, okay?”
“Yeah, you too,” Nick whispered. He swallowed. “You’ll be listening out for me?”
“I will,” Tanner said. “I always listened for you, Blue Sky Guy. Always.”
“Good.” Nick closed his eyes briefly. When he opened the again, they shone. “Do you suppose we can get more than one perfect night?”
“Yes,” Tanner said. Warmth spread through him. “As many as you want.”
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“That’s us,” Nick said. “Years before the war, Feldt came out to all the islands. Gave us radios and told us we were like Ferdinand the bull. That’s what we do. We sit under the trees and smell the flowers, and we watch the world go by. Until we get stung.”
Tanner inhaled slowly, savoring the smell of the ocean. “What happens when you get stung?” he asked at last.
“We fight back,” Nick said. He smiled, but it wavered. “But mostly we sit and smell the flowers.”
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*****
Thank you so much for the gift!!! :D
Random Act of Sant-ness
Everyone needs to have as much Lisa Henry on their shelves as possible. Enjoy!
It's a very sweet story. I enjoyed every minute of it.
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However, I wasn't as captivated as I hoped
“I’m the bird, and you’re the cage.”
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It's a very sweet story. I enjoyed every minute of it.
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However, I wasn't as captivated as I hoped I would be. It was beautiful and nice, but it didn't make my head spin.
There are many shorties that make me want more. That's not something strange, as as the definition itself says, most relationships need a big deal of pages to caress the reader's heart. But some stories just steal your heart with only a few pages. This one should have been one of those, but I still hoped for more, I still longed for a further development.
The pages available were almost perfect, but somehow I needed more to be deeply touched....more
But after all those reviews, all those warnings, the heavy plot... I expected a much more "angsty" tale and it wasn't liThis is very touching.
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But after all those reviews, all those warnings, the heavy plot... I expected a much more "angsty" tale and it wasn't like that. The relationship between these two was an addiction. Cal feels an attraction towards Jim since the very beginning but Jim is straight and worse, he is married and with a child. So, he's off-limits. But once you taste it you just can not stop.
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When the first Europeans reached what we call today Chile they met some sort of messengers in those high mountains. These men were nothing alike they had ever seen before: they could run for miles and miles and needed almost no rest, so the information flowed at an extraordinary speed, a lightning almost. In fact, they could live without food and with no sleep if necessary but they could not live without those little leaves they chewed now and then. And you better not take those leaves from them, because they truly suffered then. They were their precious.
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This story is a lot about the longing and the pain you have when you can't have something. But it's not as agonizing as I though it would be. It's a very beautiful novel, truth be said. They are mates and best friends before lovers. And you can feel that companionship and veiled love and not so hidden fear for each other. Cal knows it for sure but Jim is totally blind. When they meet again, Cal's longing awakes full force and he is not sure he will be able to keep a distance and little by little Jim has sinful thoughts he feels embarrassed about. But weirdly he can't control and erase them. And when he gives up the surrendering is so sweet and fulfilling he can't believe this is forbidden and bad.
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When I read Kick at the Darkness I knew that I had been stupid. Again. Procrastinating when I should not have. But I'm that way. This is no excuse now, I have to go on with this author. Because she's worth it. At least that's what se has proven to me so far.
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I must say I was a little disappointed the constant skips past-to-present in every chapter would frustrate me, but that wasn't the case. The anecdotes and episodes about the WWII are written in four pages and then we were in 1948 for a while longer. So in the end this was all very satisfying because KA never failed to give a good rhythm to the story.
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However, there was always something lost for me, this book didn't exactly tickle my fancy. I was a little off when I didn't feel the same as with Kick at the Darkness. I don't find any imperfection per se, except that this romance didn't exactly grab me although I devoured the pages as if it was clear water after a day in the desert. I just can't put a finger on it, but something was amiss, IMHO.
And when you finally find out what happened in Okinawa (Jim's nightmares are related to it and it's a topic to be avoided in most conversations) it didn't feel right, but not because it wasn't awful, but because I couldn't feel the traumatic meaning that episode has for Jim, I couldn't feel his despair, his shock, his incredulity and his inability to accept it and live with himself. When the mystery was out I was like "Is that everything?". Maybe after lots of violence in movies I'm not impressed anymore, but I notice when an author manages to move me, there are just some who have that power, but I didn't feel as if KA measured up to it.
The aspect I liked the least was the mystery part, which is very weak. I don't like thrillers but even I myself could guess what happened to Ann and why did Eddie flee. Above all when Jim will fall in love with Cal and of course, to make him not seem a bad husband, then Ann will be demonstrated not to had been happy in their marriage because she needed more and that's why she (view spoiler)[cheated on him with the employee (hide spoiler)]. Not original at all.
But I loved the children. I don't know why some children are described in a very annoying way but here they were perfect. I loved Sophie and her mistrust and her mischief at first, it was something I would definitely do, so she is very cool. Then she begins to understand that Uncle Cal is not a bad person at all, and I liked her better. She was never a stupid kid although she didn't behave well part of the time. Because she has a head over her shoulders, she has character and personality.
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And when the final chapter came, I just knew we would see some of Cal and Jim together, and I hoped for the best-case scenario: after the kids have grown up and flew the nest, so they would sleep together at night since at last. But the one chosen by the writer is a superb option, I really enjoyed it and think about it as a lovely closure.
Once I heard in a movie that it’s not a good idea to put together a sad boy with a sad girl. I think there is some truth in that, like Peter Br[image]
Once I heard in a movie that it’s not a good idea to put together a sad boy with a sad girl. I think there is some truth in that, like Peter Bruegel’s picture “If a blind man leads a blind man both will fall into a pit”.
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Too much pain together can’t be good. But then we meet John’s thoughts: Kurt understands him, there is not need of words. I don’t know yet which is the winning belief, maybe it depends on the person, rather than the generalization to the human being at a whole.
This book has been a vain attempt. I admit I’ve cried in one chapter (what’s not to cry for, anyway?) because the topic is sad, and that’s why it’s difficult for me to separate the feeling the Holocaust itself has grown in me and the feeling this book tries to portray. I’ve read some books about concentration camps, and seen even more movies. I rebel against the topic because I believe only Jews are remembered and I don’t think it fair. It seems only Jews exist in the movies, but the Gulag is nonexistent. It seems religion is Hitler’s main reason and the rest of “degenerates” are less.
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Russians are forgotten, gypsies are forgotten, political prisoners are forgotten, foreigners are forgotten, dwarfs and sick people are forgotten, old people are forgotten.
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Homosexuals are forgotten.
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And, lastly, the raw cruelty of this theme repels me to the opposite direction. I didn’t know exactly what this book was about, I expected a different perspective when I read it was about concentration camps, I thought there would be a post-war story with some isolated flashbacks but that was not the case. There are two parallel plots here, each one of them from the pov of each MC.
John’s story is set the 50s. He and his unit liberated Dachau in the spring of 1945. He never overcame the war with its suffering and pain. He has bad dreams that haunt him. He forgets periods of his actual life with the resulting loss of memory gaps. He can’t forgive himself and the past. But it all gets worse when one day he catches a college’s janitor playing the piano. There is something in his looks and accent that awakens something in him and chases his sanity. In the end, he has to get to know this man, and pursues him. But knowledge is not easy and light, it brings even more pain and suffering. And mixed with it all, he begins to fall for something he didn’t know he would find.
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Kurt’s tale is set in the 40s, he is an Austrian pianist who moves to Munich and joins the orchestra where he meets Peter, a violinist.
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This story is beautiful and sad, pure and ugly. They fall in love and manage to be happy for a short while, but betrayal brings him to Mathausen, next to his beloved, and hell on Earth releases on them both. This is the tale I liked most. It’s awful and poetic, I wanted cover my face with my hands, reading between my fingers.
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Because it’s absolutely heartrending, on one part due to the situation, on the other part due to what people who love are forced to do for those they love.
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I liked this book and ignited some sentiments within me, but my issue is that, in spite of getting the MC’s emotions, they were sensed far away, like deafened, like the sound thought water. I could feel close to the characters in certain moments, but in others it seemed like the first time I meet them. I could feel close to Kurt in this pov, but I couldn’t feel the same with John, or with Kurt in John’s pov. Even more, I couldn't understand why do they fall for each other.
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It’s like there are missing small pieces, but they are important to make the bigger ones shine. It looks like a tarnished picture that had lived better times, or like I had skipped pages, or like some sentences were erased accidentally. It frustrated me because it could have been a wonderful novel, but sometimes I find a pea that annoys me while sleeping on fifty mattresses and there is nothing to do.
If the world ends tomorrow, how will I go? Without ever having risked anything, or having done the one thing I can't stop
Well, this was beautiful.
If the world ends tomorrow, how will I go? Without ever having risked anything, or having done the one thing I can't stop thinking about?
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Beautiful.
I must admit I read this book because of Special Forces. Before that, this author wasn’t among my first. Somehow, that series ended up being a turning point for me, because now I’m curious enough to read his books.
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So it wasn’t love at first sight but not I’m beginning to appreciate his style.
Si el primer libro se enfoca en los que viven la guerra este segundo está dirigido también hacia la segunda generación, la de los hijos de los ex combSi el primer libro se enfoca en los que viven la guerra este segundo está dirigido también hacia la segunda generación, la de los hijos de los ex combatientes o los supervivientes. Los jóvenes como Natasha, hija de Xenia y Max, Felix y Lili, hijos de Sara Lindner, que Xenia acogió para protegerlos del nazismo, y Alex, hijo de Marietta. A cada uno la posguerra le afecta de manera distinta. Natasha se siente traicionada al enterarse de que su padre era un colaboracionista y que su madre fue acusada por sus errores, y desarraigada al descubrir que el que creía su verdadero padre no es tal, que en realidad es hija de un “odiado alemán”: el famosísimo fotógrafo Max von Passau. Felix, horrorizado por la imagen de los refugiados que llegan a París, espera con desesperación a sus padres y, al enterarse de su muerte, decide emprender la difícil tarea de reconstruir a partir de las ruinas de Berlín los almacenes Lindner. Lili, más pesimista, se resigna y no siente más que rencor hacia su país de origen. Alex, por su parte, criado en los ideales del nazismo, miembro de las Juventudes Hitlerianas, ve con impotencia cómo se derrumba la imagen de su héroe al suicidarse y se siente perdido porque nada de lo que le han enseñado es real y su padre era además uno de los más cercanos al Führer, lo que ahora es lo peor que le puede pasar a un alemán: tener relación con las altas esferas del fascismo de Alemania. Es, a priori, una generación maldita.
Aquí nos volvemos a encontrar con nuestra heroína del primer libro: Xenia. Viuda de Gabriel, del que recibe una gran herencia, continúa su vida sintiendo que le falta una parte de sí misma. No pudiendo vivir más con ese vacío, decide viajar a una Alemania arrasada por las bombas y dividida entre los vencedores, para encontrar entre las ruinas a su gran amor, Max.
Pero Max von Passau no es el mismo de antes. No sólo vio derrumbarse su país y sus ideales, no solamente experimentó la pérdida de sus amigos y su estancia en Sachenhausen. Todas esas experiencias le han marcado a fuego tanto en cuerpo como en alma. Es un hombre consumido y traumatizado por sus vivencias y la obsesión constante de que no debería seguir vivo estando todos los demás muertos. Xenia se encuentra con poco más que una sombra del hombre que fue, un hombre que confiesa que ya ha perdido la fe para amar. Xenia, sin embargo, ya había pasado por eso, sabía lo que él estaba sufriendo porque ella misma lo había vivido y no está dispuesta a dejarle escapar. Sin embargo, por lo que siempre se caracterizó su azarosa historia, también se separan en una ruptura que parece definitiva. Pero su amor es fuerte y consiguen reencontrarse. Era su destino. El reencuentro, cuando Max ya puede empezar a dejar atrás el pasado para empezar una nueva vida con Xenia, es muy esperado y muy bonito. Apenas se cruzan palabras, pero las miradas lo dicen todo. Me gustó mucho pero me hubiera gustado ver más. Eso sí, al final percibimos su gran amor y los pensamientos de Max al saber que, por fin, es feliz.
De los nuevos personajes, nos encontramos con una oficial británica y muy atractiva, que congenia con Max desde el principio y que despierta rencor en Felix y Natasha por igual. Nos reencontramos con Ígor Kunin, uno de los enamorados de Xenia en aquel pasado deslumbrante del ocaso de los zares, y a su hijo Dmitri, un militar del sector comunista de Alemania, y del cual Natasha se enamoraría perdidamente. Felix consigue poco a poco sentar las bases para el negocio de moda de sus padres y Alex vislumbra un nuevo futuro con su talento para la arquitectura. Después de todo, mientras hay vida, hay esperanza.
En esta parte también transcurren varios años, se da un salto atrás con respecto al primer libro pero luego sigue avanzando a lo largo de la década de los 40 hasta entrados los 50. Y cambiamos también de marco espacial, al incluir a París y Berlín la próspera ciudad de Nueva York, lejos de la Europa destruida y con un océano de por medio. Lejos del sufrimiento y la destrucción.
Este libro me ha gustado más que el primero, si eso es posible. Si en el primero era Xenia la que huía del amor, la que no podía desnudar su alma y entregarse al hombre de su vida, ahora es en éste donde ella le persigue y él se retrae. La suerte que tienen es que ella comprende, lo ha vivido y sabe lo que él siente, y no va a permitir por nada del mundo que le arrebaten el amor cuando ya lo tiene al alcance de su mano… Hay pocas cosas que escapen al poder de Xenia, pero él, lo que ella ama por encima de todo, la Fortuna se lo niega continuamente. Y sólo él consigue que ella se derrumbe y descubra su lado vulnerable. Todos la ven como una diosa, una mujer inquebrantable que afronta todos los desafíos, en la que el orgullo es la actitud ante todo y que nunca, nunca jamás, hay que doblegarse ante nadie ni aunque la amenacen a punta de pistola. Xenia Osolin puede enfrentarse a la guerra, a la miseria, puede superar su miedo a los comunistas, los que destruyeron su vida y su familia, puede tratar con desprecio a los hipócritas y mirar por encima del hombro a los arrimados, a los chaqueteros, aun a costa de su propia seguridad, aun a pesar de que ese orgullo le juegue más de una mala pasada. Lo único que puede derrumbarla es él, y él lo sabe. Pero él ya no puede seguir. Pero ella tiene carácter. Y ella luchará. La loba blanca. Hasta el final. Y si todo falla, esperará y seguirá adelante. Siempre cae de pie.
Esta es una historia, hablo de los dos libros, que me ha calado hondo, hasta lo más profundo. Me ha mantenido en vilo constantemente. Cuesta coger la historia al principio, porque no es una trama, sino varias, las que se entrecruzan y enlazan, y porque la protagonista es fuerte pero muy controvertida. Fría pero apasionada a la vez. Un personaje muy bien perfilado y con muchas facetas. Con vida y pensamientos propios, con una presencia tan arrolladora y un carisma tan innegable que prácticamente absorbe a los demás personajes. Por lo mejor es el que más me ha gustado. Max también me encantó, un gran hombre, una buena persona víctima de las circunstancias cuyo sufrimiento parece que no termina, primero, el amor no correspondido, luego, la guerra. Es una historia larga pero ágil, con una preciosa historia de amor principal azarosa y caprichosa. Una época que me apasiona, llena de cambios y guerras, la primera mitad del siglo XX, un periodo relativamente corto lleno de acontecimientos que cambiaron el mundo. Una historia que parecía que no conseguía establecerse del todo pero que siempre mantenía la promesa de cumplirse. El título le viene como anillo al dedo, porque eso mismo es: todos los sueños del mundo. Realmente merece la pena, una maravilla como pocas. No veo la hora en que publiquen más de esta gran autora. Una autora que ha entrado directamente en mi categoría de autoras de élite....more
Australia a principios del s. XX. Una gran extensión, Drogueda, es el principal escenario de la historia. La dueña de esta tierra, Mary Carson, será eAustralia a principios del s. XX. Una gran extensión, Drogueda, es el principal escenario de la historia. La dueña de esta tierra, Mary Carson, será el enlace entre los dos protagonistas que da sentido a la trama. El padre Ralph de Bricassart es un joven sacerdote de 28 años que desea, ante todo, alcanzar un alto puesto en la jerarquía vaticana, cargo que, además, cree merecer por derecho propio. Meggie es la hija pequeña del matrimonio Cleary, perteneciente a una familia donde el amor le fue negado excepto por su querido hermano Frank, es una niña endurecida y seria, con una gran capacidad para soportar toda clase de dolor. La diferencia de edad entre Ralph y Meggie es abrumadora, 18 años. Aún así, nada más verla, Ralph siente una afinidad hacia la muchacha, como un vínculo de cariño y ternura. Un vínculo que, con el paso del tiempo, irá profundizándose cada vez más hasta límites dolorosos.
Meggie vivía hasta los 10 años en Nueva Zelanda, su madre, Fee, es una mujer fría perteneciente a la alta burguesía hasta que una desgracia la llevó a la más pobre de las situaciones: se casó con un esquilador, Paddy. Sin embargo, hasta más tarde no se saben los detalles de su juventud. Su amor es concentrado en el hijo mayor, Frank. Frank es un joven de 15 años que se dedica a la herrería y desea, ante todo, huir de su familia para escapar de la situación en la que se encuentra, sueña con un futuro mejor.
El libro comienza desde que Meggie tiene 4 años, para poder percibir su infancia infeliz y desdichada. Una familia fría e indiferente y la dura educación recibida por las monjas, junto a su propio carácter introvertido y estoico, contribuyen a endurecer su forma de ser. Un día, por sorpresa, Paddy recibe una carta de su hermana mayor, Mary Carson, a la que no había visto desde hacía 50 años. Su hermana necesita un heredero para su gran finca ovejera en Australia, le ofrece trabajo y protección. Paddy no se lo piensa dos veces y se prepara para marchar a Drogueda.
En la estación del pueblo cercano, Gilly, la familia es recibida por el padre Ralph, el primer momento en que las miradas de Meggie y el sacerdote se cruzan y el comienzo de la trágica historia que envolverá a tres generaciones.
Hay varios momentos en los el padre Ralph, debido a la gran diferencia de edad y su condición de sacerdote, trata de borrar las esperanzas románticas de Meggie. Se puede decir que estas son las escenas "románticas" de la historia, pues son bien escasas. A pesar de insistir en lo imposible de su relación, él mismo cae en sus propias redes, se rinde a Meggie en una maravillosa escena, y la única. La separación es durísima y definitiva, no hay marcha atrás y no hay esperanza posible para ellos.
Pero esto ocurre más adelante, Meggie está cada vez más enamorada de Ralph, con él descubre su femineidad que era tema tabú en esa época, con él descubre sus sentimientos, pero con él también conoce el rechazo y la negación.
Mary Carson intuye este enlace desde el principio, es una vieja sola y amargada que se siente atraída por el atractivo sacerdote, siente celos de la pequeña y su acción será el principal detonante de la desgracia: antes de morir, deja en manos de Ralph el destino de Drogueda y sus habitantes. Gracias a ello, consigue despegar en su ascenso en la Iglesia. Sin embargo, el precio que pagará por ello será muy alto, aunque él no sabe hasta qué punto…
Desde la marcha de Ralph, Meggie está cada vez más sola, Frank, la única luz en su gris existencia, se había marchado para lograr un futuro mejor, y su otro punto de apoyo, Ralph, también la abandona. A la madre le afecta profundamente la huida de Frank, su hijo pródigo, aunque no lo deja traslucir. Empieza a encerrarse cada vez más en sí misma, y Stuart, uno de sus hijos, comienza a cuidar de ella.
Pasan los años, pues el libro abarca desde finales de la Primera Guerra Mundial hasta más allá de la segunda. Acudimos a la depresión económica de los años 30 y la sequía que arrasa los prados de Australia. Presenciamos la Segunda Guerra Mundial a través de los gemelos, hijos de Paddy, en el norte de África y la selva asiática. Vemos madurar y sufrir a los protagonistas, a miles de kilómetros de distancia, aunque ni el tiempo ni el espacio logran que el uno olvide al otro.
Meggie conoce a Luke, un ganadero errante que se gana la vida con trabajos temporales. Por despecho y celos, se casa con él. Ya que no puede estar con su amor, al menos desea tener hijos. Pero Luke lo único que quiere es su dinero, y no duda en ponerla a trabajar y alejarse de ella para darse “la buena vida”.
Meggie tiene dos hijos: la mayor Justine, un ser frío e indiferente, sería actriz de teatro y el pequeño, Dane, compasivo y amable, tendría vocación de sacerdote. En torno a este último se inicia otra desgracia, cuyas consecuencias se extienden a todos los personajes. Ambos son muy importantes en la trama y, en definitiva, en el final. Sentí el dolor de Meggie por la condena de amar a un hombre casado con la Iglesia, y su dolor es aún mayor cuando descubre la vocación de su hijo. Sin embargo, Meggie tiene unas espaldas para aguantar de todo y deja el camino libre a su hijo para cumplir su sueño.
El libro se divide en varias partes con señas de los años que abarca cada una y con el nombre de uno de los personajes: Meggie, Ralph, Luke, Fee, Justine... mostrando de alguna manera el protagonista de esa etapa de la novela.
No es que haya muchas escenas románticas en este libro pero, sin embargo, el amor está presente en cada página, como intuyéndose entre líneas, detrás de cada frase de los protagonistas imaginas el verdadero significado de sus palabras. La autora explota el monólogo interior, vemos los pensamientos de cada personaje con una gran claridad, conocemos sus dudas, sus conflictos internos, sus angustias, su dolor… es la mejor forma de saber de ellos, pues hablan muy poco sobre sus sentimientos, sin embargo, son abrumadores cuando les oyes hablar sobre ellos.
En el caso de Ralph, vemos la agonía de descubrir el amor hacia Meggie que, en un principio lo confundió con ternura y compasión. Cuando su "niña" va madurando, él se aleja cada vez más, hasta llegar a un momento en el que él se quita la venda de los ojos y descubre la verdad. En ese momento te sorprendes de la importancia de la diferencia de edad entre los protagonistas, de alguna forma, él ha estado moldeándola a su manera y el descubrimiento le deja aturdido y culpable, sumiéndole en un profundo dolor.
Por parte de Meggie, vemos la negación y el verse rechazada por Ralph, lo que da paso a la amargura y el despecho, cada vez le odia un poco más hasta que finalmente explota y le dice unas cuantas verdades a la cara. Ese momento me encantó, por fin la hierética Meggie se libera y suelta todo lo que la carcomía. Vemos su condena como propia, sus sentimientos nos hieren y nos sorprendemos de su gran capacidad de sacrificio.
Su amor es la historia principal, pero de esta columnna se extienden otras ramas que son las subtramas de la familia. Se puede decir que es una saga familiar, ya que abarca desde la juventud de Fee en escenas retrospectivas hasta la madurez de los hijos de Meggie. Todos cobran importancia a su manera y cada uno aporta un poco a la historia. Poco a poco, Fee y Meggie se complementan y te das cuenta de que se parecen mucho más de lo que pensabas. Esto me sorprendió muchísimo. Cuando, finalmente Fee se abre y descubres todos sus secretos y sus parecidos con Meggie.
Mientras, Ralph consigue ascender cada vez un poco más, sin embargo, se convierte en un ser cada vez más atormentado, lo que no escapa a los ojos del cardenal amigo suyo. De alguna manera, te regocija saber que está sufriendo, pero por otra también le compadeces.
En muchos momentos he esperado que el padre Ralph rompiese con todas las barreras y volviese junto a Meggie para vivir su amor, pero en ningún momento eso ocurre. Este libro no es una historia feliz de un amor idílico, es una tragedia de amor que, a pesar de los deseos y las luchas, los sueños no se cumplen, es una batalla perdida de antemano, pero aún así, no pueden evitar enfrentarse a su destino, como la leyenda del pájaro espino. Por una parte Ralph es ambicioso, quiere subir y llegar a lo más alto en el Vaticano, por otra tiene verdadera devoción a Dios que, es lo único que no le perdono, supera el enorme amor hacia Meggie. Meggie lo único que desea es que Ralph le corresponda, aunque, al igual que él, sabe que es imposible.
El título me parece muy acertado, es una historia muy hermosa sobre los conflictos internos como el amor, la amargura, el odio, la culpa, el despecho, el tormento y, finalmente, la conformidad. Los protagonistas saben que con su situación, las cosas sólo pueden empeorar, pero no pueden resistirse a su destino, no son capaces de evitar la tragedia. Conocen el fin de toda la historia pero aún así, cometen los más garrafales errores, que pagan muy alto, cada uno a su manera.
De esta autora he leído ya El desafío, libro que me gustó tanto o más que éste. El pájaro espino es uno de los libros más intensos, profundos y completos que he tenido la suerte de leer. No he visto la serie de televisión que se hizo a raíz del gran éxito que tuvo el libro en su época, por lo que no puedo comparar. Es una historia que llega al corazón, sufres con los protagonistas, te enfadas con ellos, los odias en algunos momentos y en otros te dan ganas de aplaudirles y, la mayoría de las veces, les compadeces. Me encantan las historias intensas, que te influyan de manera determinante, donde, además de las palabras, los sentimientos inunden las páginas. Muchos no son sentimientos hermosos, pero al fin y al cabo es una historia de amor. Es un libro que no olvidaré nunca, aunque sólo sea por el aire trágico de la historia. No todos los sueños, las fantasías se cumplen, y este es un claro ejemplo de ello. Aquí hay sobre todo sufrimiento, negación y dolor, y también mucho amor, pero lo que no se puede, no se puede, y además es imposible....more