Review-uri 1 Cartile scriitoarei britanice Jeanette Winterson sunt publicate in peste 35 de tari. Pe ea o cheama Louise. Are par prerafaelit si pielea alba ca laptele. Dar persoana pe care o iubeste si care-i asterne pe hartie povestea n-are nici nume, nici chip, nici sex. Insa dragostea nu cunoaste astfel de ingradiri. E, asa cum descopera protagonistii, un drog care se consuma febril, cu disperare, si care lasa urme vizibile si invizibile scrise pe trup.

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Shelves: miscellaneous-fiction , poetry , sexuality-gender-lgbtq , death-bereavement On the surface, this is a sensual, reflective, and sometimes humorous recollection of the narrators loves won and lost, compared with the current one. Unwelcome news triggers a difficult choice, with huge ramifications. It was made with love, but was it the right decision, and did the narrator even have the right to make it?

Its a curious amalgam of styles, yet unmistakably Winterson, including a set of short, more abstract sections, and the fact the bisexual narrators gender is unspecified. All the best literature has a unique message for every reader, on each encounter. Gilt reflects: what spoke to me is not what you will hear and respond to.

Image: Antique mirror Source. I found this shockingly, painfully good. I knew it was about relationships and was ambiguous about gender, but I was unprepared for the raw dissection of loss.

It punched hard, but was shot through with love. Definitely the right book at the right time for me. It will not stay still, stay silent, be good, be modest, be seen and not heard, no.

Love belongs to itself, deaf to pleading and unmoved by violence. Love is not something you can negotiate. Love is the one thing stronger than desire and the only proper reason to resist temptation. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. Only this: neglect. There is truth in that, touched on repeatedly here.

We all exchange things for sex and love: our motives are mixed and rarely pure. And the promises of marriage can be hard to keep. You deciphered me and now I am plain to read. She has translated me into her own book.


Scris pe trup

De ce lucrul cel mai lipsit de originalitate pe care ni l-am putea spune este, de fiecare data, cel pe care asteptam sa-l auzim? Nici tu, nici eu n-am fost primii care le-au rostit si totusi cand le spui tu si cand le spun eu suntem ca niste salbatici care au dat peste doua cuvinte si au inceput sa le venereze. Le-am venerat si eu, la randul meu, insa acum sunt o fiinta solitara, aflata pe o stanca taiata din propriu-mi trup. Dragostea cere sa fie exprimata. Nu vrea sa stea cuminte, sa pastreze tacerea, sa fie buna si modesta, sa fie doar vazuta, dar nu si auzita, nu. Ea va izbucni in vorbe de lauda, nota cea inalta ce sparge sticla si varsa lichidul din pahare.


Jeanette Winterson



Jeanette Winterson - Scris Pe Trup


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