I've just finished two very short books, two very short stories, utterly delicate and pure.
Snow by Maxence Fermine.
On coming of age, Yuko is expected to become either a monk or a warrior. He decides instead to become a poet. And to write poems about snow. But to become a master poet he must also master the arts of painting, and of music, and of calligraphy. And lastly, the art of love…
Snow resembles Baricco's Silk: soft, clean, simple and delicate. Yet it is even more lyrical due to the influence of haiku. That is why it is said that this is "a novel that reads like a poem" (so gentle, so delicate, soothing). There are two love stories intertwined, Yuko's, which is a little predictable and Yuko's master, Soseki, which is a little jewel itself. All in all, it was a pleasure to read it, it is a joy to remember it.
El cuento de la isla desconocida (The Tale of the Unknown Island) by José Saramago.
A man went to knock at the king's door and said, Give me a boat. The king's house had many other doors, but this was the door for petitions. Since the king spent all his time sitting at the door for favors (favors being offered to the king, you understand), whenever he heard someone knocking at the door for petitions, he would pretend not to hear . . ." Why the petitioner required a boat, where he was bound for, and who volunteered to crew for him, the reader will discover in this delightful fable, a philosophic love story worthy of Swift or Voltaire.
It seems I'm having a literary crush on this gentleman's work, and with stories like this one who wouldn't. It's a very short tale, a sort of fairy tale, with simple, straightforward yet incredibly deep dialogues, enganging characters and a captivating ... cadence, yes, that's the word. A story that works on many levels, that makes room for serious thought and utter delight.
On coming of age, Yuko is expected to become either a monk or a warrior. He decides instead to become a poet. And to write poems about snow. But to become a master poet he must also master the arts of painting, and of music, and of calligraphy. And lastly, the art of love…...to write, is to feel your way step by step along a thread of beauty. Along the thread of a poem, or of a story unfolding on sheet of silk. For the poet, like the tightrope walker, must go forward, word by word, page after page, along the path of a book. And the most difficult thing is not that you must keep your footing on the rope of language, with only a pen for balance; nor to keep going straight ahead, when the way is blocked by the sudden drop of a comma, or the obstacle of a full stop. No, the difficulty for the poety is to stay on the rope that is writing, to live every moment without losing sight of his dream, and to never come down, not even for a second, from the rope of imagination.
El cuento de la isla desconocida (The Tale of the Unknown Island) by José Saramago.
A man went to knock at the king's door and said, Give me a boat. The king's house had many other doors, but this was the door for petitions. Since the king spent all his time sitting at the door for favors (favors being offered to the king, you understand), whenever he heard someone knocking at the door for petitions, he would pretend not to hear . . ." Why the petitioner required a boat, where he was bound for, and who volunteered to crew for him, the reader will discover in this delightful fable, a philosophic love story worthy of Swift or Voltaire.It seems I'm having a literary crush on this gentleman's work, and with stories like this one who wouldn't. It's a very short tale, a sort of fairy tale, with simple, straightforward yet incredibly deep dialogues, enganging characters and a captivating ... cadence, yes, that's the word. A story that works on many levels, that makes room for serious thought and utter delight.
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Lotus, do read it! This one is so reminiscent of fairy tales. A literary crush, yes! :) (though I feel I might be falling for another writer, naughty me)