Mykje betre
Ho bestemde seg for å vere klok
av skade.
Det var trass alt mykje betre
enn å berre vere skada.
DIktanalyse
Ho køyrde full diktanalyse.
Granska og tolka alt han nokon
gong hadde sagt henne. La vekt
på symbolbruk og undertekst.
Heilt utan nokon gong å bli
noko klokare på han.
Så fekk dei rett,
klassekameratane frå
ungdomsskulen.
Ein får aldri bruk for
diktanalyse i den verkelege
verda.
Havari
Ho hadde ikkje vore seg sjølv
sidan bokbadet.
Havarikommisjonens konklusjon
kom, men for seint.
Kulturmenn burde komme med
varseltrekant.
To år før han drog heimanfrå, sa far min til mor mi at eg var veldig stygg. Orda blei uttalte med låg stemme i leilegheita som foreldra mine, straks dei hadde gifta seg, hadde kjøpt oppe i Rione Alto, i toppen av San Giacomo dei Capri. Alt - Napoli, det blå lyset ein kald dag i februar, dei orda - har stått stille.
Dei vaksnes løgnaktige liv av Elena Ferrante
På en øy der det nesten ikke bor noen setter ethvert anløp noe i spill, selv en skarve melkerute. I dag lente skipperen seg over rekka på den gamle kutteren og rakte Ingrid avisen, nærmest som en kvittering for melkespannene han så gikk i gang med å heise ombord, sakte og.omstendelig. Det er disse bevegelsene han skal huskes for, Johannes Hartvigsen, det trege og det omstendelige.
Bare en mor av Roy Jacobsen
Vanen, eller uvanen, med å kjøpe bøker som ikke blir lest, har et eget ord på japansk. Det heter tsundoku. Godt å ha et ord for det man lider av.
good
literature
is almost always
disturbing.
By limiting Donald’s access to his own feelings and rendering many of them unacceptable, Fred perverted his son’s perception of the world and damaged his ability to live in it. His capacity to be his own person, rather than an extension of his father’s ambitions became severely limited.
Too Much - Never Enough by Mary L.Trump
The country is now suffering from the same toxic positivity that my grandfather deployed specifically to drown out his ailing wife, torment his dying son, and damage past healing the psyche of his favorite child, Donald J. Trump.
«Everything’s great. Right, Toots?»
When she told him, he looked at her for a second and than said, «I’m so disappointed that you went to that school». Annamaria, who was three years older than Donald said: «Who are you to be disappointed in me?» That ended the conversation. His idea of flirting was to insult her and act superior. It struck her as juvenile, as if he were a second grader who expressed his affection for a girl by pulling her hair.
If he is afforded a second term, it would be the end of American democracy.
......I was wandering around my house, as traumatized as many other people but in a more personal way: it felt as though 62,979,636 voters had chosen to turn this country into a macro version of my malignantly dysfunctional family.
As usual with Donald, the story mattered more than the truth, which was easily sacrificed, especially if a lie made the story sound better.
Nei, ingen samling som utmerker seg i farten, men med på et flyttelass fra Canada befant bl.a. «The Moslem Wife and Other Stories» og ulike utgaver av «Collected Stories» seg, så jeg regner med at førstnevnte ble valgt av en bestemt grunn.
Mavis Gallant er en av Canadas beste short stories forfattere.De novellene jeg har lest av henne har temaer som inviterer til ettertanke. På baksiden av en av hennes bøker står følgende kloke ord:
Stories are not chapters of novels. They should not be read one after another, as if they were meant to follow along. Read one. Shut the book. Read something else. Stories can wait
Hjelper denne historien fra Native American Animal Stories - told by Joseph Bruchac?
Creation
How Grandmother Spider Named the Clans
After Tawa, the Sky God, and Grandmother Spider had made Earth and all of the things upon it, Tawa went back up into the heavens. Grandmother Spider remained with the animals and all of the people there in the four great caves of the underworld, It was left to Grandmother Spider to put things on Earth into order. So Grandmother Spider gathered all of the living creatures around her. She began to separate the people into the different Indian nations, telling them how it would be from then on for them. So it was that she made the Ute and the Zuni and the Comanche and the Pueblo people and the Hopi and all the others. She named them and from then they knew their names. So too she gave all of the animals their names so that they also would know who they were.
Then Grandmother Spider saw that life would not be good for the many animals and people there in the darkness of the underworld. With her two grandsons, the Hero Twins, beside her, she led the animals and the people up out of the four caverns. She led them till they came to an opening into the world above. They came out there next to Colorado River in the place where the people still go to gather salt. As they came out, the turkey dragged his tail in the mud and his tail has been black-tipped ever since then.
Grandmother Spider sent the mourning dove ahead to find good places for the people to settle, places where there were springs and good soil for corn. Then Grandmother Spider separated the people into clans. She chose one animal to lead each of those groups of people and from then on those people carried the name of that animal. So it was that Snake Clan and the Antilope Clan, the Mountain Lion Clan and the Deer Clan and the other clans came to be among the Hopi. The people each followed their clan animal and when they came to the place to build their homes, there they settled and there they live to this day.
Det forstår seg !
Mange gode bøker på listen din, men jeg savner Dilettanten av Terje Holtet Larsen. Det er en av mine favorittbøker, og den ble utgitt i 2012.
Den stadige flyttingen fra et krypinn til et annet var en god øvelse i å kvitte seg med alt jeg oppdaget at jeg likevel ikke trengte. Jeg fant det for eksempel ikke lenger nødvendig å omgi meg med bøker jeg hadde lest flere ganger, og som jeg med stor sannsynlighet aldri ville få behov for å lese enda en gang. På et tidspunkt innså jeg at det var noe fetisjistisk ved det å slepe rundt på de tunge eskene, og at jeg ville greie meg fint uten den bekreftende trygghetsfølelsen alle disse bøkens nærvær tidligere hadde gitt meg.