Archive for the ‘quotes’ Category

let’s pretend this never happened

Disclaimer: il libro di cui sto per parlarvi è uscito da poco ed è disponibile solo in lingua inglese. A quanto pare, il blog sorprendentemente famoso dell’autrice (2-3 milioni di page view al mese) e l’autrice stessa (250mila follower su twitter) sono pressocché sconosciuti in Italia. Quel dommage. Un libro che appena esce va direttamente al primo posto nella classifica del New York Times merita rispetto, o no?

Dunque il libro in questione è Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, di Jenny Lawson AKA TheBloggess. Premetto che non ho ancora finito di leggerlo (289 pagine di puro amore sul mio B&N Nook nuovo di pacca) ma non penso che cambierò idea in proposito nelle prossime (e ultime) cento pagine.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened on my Nook
Il mio nuovo Nook Simple Touch <3

This book is totally true, except for the parts that aren’t. It’s basically like Little House on the Prairie but with more cursing. — Jenny Lawson

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parole come fragole

Non vedo l’ora che arrivino i traslocatori con i miei 50 (e rotti) scatoloni, principalmente perché sento il bisogno di ricongiungermi ai miei libri! Li ho portati quasi tutti: tutti quelli di cucina e un bel po’ di tutti gli altri. Per esempio, stasera mentre ascolto Regina Spektor (che dio benedica in eterno il mese omaggio di Spotify Premium che mi hanno gentilmente offerto…) e valuto se mangiare o meno i macarons che ho comprato oggi, vorrei proprio rileggere alcune poesie di un libro che mi è stato regalato circa un anno fa, “Assetto di volo” di Pierluigi Capello (lo trovate qui, in fondo alla pagina). Questa per esempio:

Rondeau

Cun cheste lenghe nude e in nissun puest
nì mai viodût in lûs di nissun voli
se no dai miei cjalant i tiei celescj
jo mâr o clamarès chel to celest
tiscjel il lum dal to tasê forest
e primevere il solc lunc dal to pet;
cjalanti, inte buere di me ch’e cres
falchet sarès se no tasès cjalanti
in cheste lenghe nude e in nissun puest.

In nissun puest amôr ma nome in chest
l’amôr ti disarès ch’al è taront
l’insom e il sot ladrîs e zime in rime
e intal clarôr sul fîl da la tô schene
crît il clâr de lune clare compagne
bielece son li’ mans strentis in trece
li’ mês li’ tôs e intor il braç de gnot
ch’a si davierç in lûs, nulinti, e in blanc
in nissun puest amôr ma nome in chest.

In nissun puest ma achì ti volarès
niçant adôr sul niçul des peraulis
peraulis come fraulis ti darès
che vite ator ator e je tampieste
jo e te mâr fer tal mieç da la tampieste
e messedant i tiei cui miei cjavei
amôr plui tô la muse tô e sarès
e non il to plui non, cun dut il rest forest
in cheste lenghe nude e in nissun puest.

Per la traduzione dal friulano chiedete a google! Suona così bene in lingua originale, anche se un po’ diversa da quella a cui sono abituata. Sarà perché lo associo ai legami familiari più stretti e alla mia infanzia, sentire qualcuno che parla friulano o leggere poesie come questa mi scalda immediatamente il cuore. E in questo periodo ne ho proprio bisogno, per quanto sia bello qui mi sento un po’ fluttuante.

and now for something completely different

Il 2010 se n’è andato, e noi siamo ancora qui. Infreddoliti dalle temperature sotto zero. Inebetiti dal troppo o troppo poco sonno. Innamorati. Inscatolati in uffici, macchine, treni, metropolitane, città. Imbambolati dalla musica perennemente in cuffia. Introspettivi. Siamo, o forse sono.

Il dolore mi ha reso libera. Come Evey nella scena di V per Vendetta in cui esce dalla prigione e si prende tutta la pioggia in faccia, non ho più paura di niente.

[Evey is allowed to leave her prison unexpectedly and finds she was actually in V's lair the whole time]

VHello, Evey.

Evey: You… it was you…

V: Yeah.

Evey: That wasn’t real. Is Gordon…?

V: I’m sorry, but Mr. Dietrich’s dead. I thought they’d arrest him but when they found a Koran in his house, they had him executed. Fortunately I got to you before they did.

Evey: You got to me? You did this to me? You cut my hair? You tortured me? You tortured me! Why?

V: You said you wanted to live without fear. I wish there’d been an easier way, but there wasn’t.

Evey: Oh, my God!

V: I know you may never forgive me, but nor will you ever understand how hard it was for me to do what I did. Every day, I saw in myself everything you see in me now. Every day, I wanted to end it. But each time you refused to give in, I knew I couldn’t.

Evey: You’re sick! You’re evil!

V: You could have ended it, Evey. You could have given in, but you didn’t. Why?

Evey: Leave me alone! I hate you!

V: That’s it! See, at first, I thought it was hate too. Hate was all I knew. It built my world, imprisoned me, taught me how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. I thought I’d die with all the hate in my veins. But then something happened. It happened to me, just as it happened to you.

Evey: Shut up! I don’t want to hear your lies!

V: Your own father said that artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I created a lie, but because you believed it, you found something true about yourself.

Evey: No…

V: What was true in that cell is just as true now. What you felt in there has nothing to do with me.

Evey: I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING ANYMORE!

V: Don’t run from it, Evey. You’ve been running all your life.

Evey: [gasping] I can’t… can’t breathe… Asthma… When I was little… [collapses while V catches her]

V: Listen to me, Evey. This may be the most important moment of your life. Commit to it. They took your parents from you. They took your brother from you. They put you in a cell and took everything they could take except your life. And you believed that was all there was, didn’t you? The only thing you had left was your life, but it wasn’t, was it?

Evey: Oh… please…

V: You found something else. In that cell, you found something that mattered more to you than life. Because when they threatened to kill you unless you gave them what they wanted… you told them you’d rather die. You faced your death, Evey. You were calm. You were still. Try to feel now what you felt then.

Evey: God. I felt…

V: Yes?

Evey: I felt dizzy. Please. I need air. I need to be outside.

V: There’s a lift that will take us to the roof.

[They go up. Evey goes out. It's raining].

– V for Vendetta

dear karen

Adoro le lettere, adoro le lettere d’amore, adoro le lettere ben scritte, adoro Hank Moody. Leggetevi questa, parla di una storia d’amore ambientata in una New York piena di gente e di colori, e guardatevi Californication (stagione 2, episodio 10). L’amore come non l’avete mai visto prima, l’amore per gente cinica disillusa autoironica cupa e autodistruttiva come me. L’amore che, nonostante tutto, è la cosa più importante.

Dear Karen,

If you’re reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it, so good for me.

You don’t know me very well, but if you get me started I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me. But this, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it, I met someone. It was an accident, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was a perfect storm. She said one thing and I said another and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there’s this feeling in my gut that she might be the one. She’s completely nuts in a way that makes me smile, highly neurotic, a great deal of maintenance required. She is you, Karen, that’s the good news. The bad  is that I don’t know how to be with you right now, and that scares the shit out of me. Because if I’m not with you right now I have this feeling we’ll get lost out there. It’s a big bad world full of twists and turns and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment, the moment that could have changed everything. I don’t know what’s going on with us and I can’t tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me. But damn you smell good, like home, and you make excellent coffee – that’s got to count for something, right? Call me.

Unfaithfully yours,
Hank Moody

it’s the question that drives us

Trinity: I know why you’re here, Neo. I know what you’ve been doing… why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer. You’re looking for him. I know because I was once looking for the same thing. And when he found me, he told me I wasn’t really looking for him. I was looking for an answer. It’s the question that drives us, Neo. It’s the question that brought you here. You know the question, just as I did.

Neo: What is the Matrix?

Trinity: The answer is out there, Neo, and it’s looking for you, and it will find you if you want it to.