Ever since CDs stopped being relevant, there are only two things in the world I like to purchase: clothes & books.
With clothes I get to express my moods, manifest ideas and cause immediate reactions. With books I absorb others’ impressions and feelings through their creative view of the world, and respond mentally to them.
I’m an avid yet inconstant reader, and I tend to read several novels at the same time – besides all the other readings I regularly do.
Sometimes it can take months before I finish one piece of work. This may be due to my reluctance to part from an enticing or surprising narrative – I get too attached to these universes which eventually help me build my own.
There are five books between which I’m presently dividing my attention, all I can but highly recommend:
1. Sagarana, by Guimarães Rosa;
2. Le Marin de Gibraltar, by Marguerite Duras;
3. Todos los fuegos el fuego, by Julio Cortázar;
4. The Line of Beauty, by Allan Hollinghurst and
5. The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath.
All of these are remarkable in their own right, but I am absolutely fascinated by Sylvia Plath’s only published novel.
Sylvia Plath
It is so relieving to enter someone else’s life, sharing their impressions, views, loves and fears, it is like one gets a singular chance of reinterpreting one’s own reality.
Something I most earnestly ought to do.