Lately i have run into several really good books.
One of them i was rereading it. And i didn’t finish it. I don’t mean i didn’t really finish it... truth is, from time to time, i read the end before time (and at that moment sometimes i lose interest and just stop reading...), so i already knew what was gonna happen... but this time i liked it so much, and what happened was that i didn’t want it to be finished. So i started reading veeery slowly, just some pages in a row, then some phrases, then... just left it there, by my side, kindda handy, just in case, some half a page still to be read...
t was sad, very sad. You could be laughing all the time throughout the book, but there was always that bitter taste deep inside, just like when you laugh with a joke about dead people or when Roberto Benini is making faces for his son not to get too spattered by all the shit covering that beautiful life. You know it is sad. It’s just the way it is told.
I think this is one of my favourite books. Anagrams.
The second one is not that good, from my point of view, but it’s got really good phrases, and a very special way of writing. It’s all about a young man that decides not to get out of his room again. He prefers living out of the music he’s got, the lyrics of rock are a far much better school than rough and painful life itself. And better examples, too. He keeps talking and talking to himself, not making a lot of sense most of the times, or, at least, leaving everything very open for interpretations.
Its prose's got sth, either you hate it or love it, i guess... Like one of my teachers at university. I loved him. I used to have a boyfriend back then, but still i would have had sex with him. I mean that i would have quitted that boyfriend i had; i don't like being unfaithful, weird as it may sound coming from me =) But i can’t help it; i like men when i got absorbed by what they say (or sing, i love singers), no matter how ugly they may be, i can get to see sth special, even physically. This one was not precisely Brad Pitt...
And though i have finished that book, i still feel i haven’t, neither. There was this sentence, saying something like elephants know a lot about courage, you fuckin’ kidding me? they better do, such a big animal has nowhere to hide...
The third one, short randomly chosen stories about almost everything, life and death present all the time. A bit surreal, a bit so real... Feelings out in the open or stuffed into a bubble ready to explode. Tragic and dramatic but never taking delight on that; with the accent slightly placed on the bright side. Very sweet all through the harshness, simple and easygoing. Delicious.
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