portraiture

getting to know an author so closely can be, at times, a bit unsettling. assim foi ler o capítulo sexto. quanto a Updike, e apesar de só o ter feito com uma autora mais do que menor (Laura Grimaldi), vou bani-lo da prateleira. detalhes. sobre Pamuk, imagino, posso falar durante muitas horas e podia escrever páginas e páginas. tal como no início, penso que escreve sempre o mesmo livro. não sei se não serão assim todos os autores.

para o que interessa, uma perspectiva do que é um retrato:

"When I first laid eyes on her child, I knew at once what I’d long and mistakenly recalled about Shekure’s face. Like Orhan’s face, hers was thin, though her chin was longer than what I remembered. So, then the mouth of my beloved was surely smaller and narrower than I imagined it to be. For a dozen years, as I ventured from city to city, I’d widened Shekure’s mouth out of desire and had imagined her lips to be more pert, fleshy and irresistible, like a large, shiny cherry.

Had I taken Shekure's portrait with me, rendered in the style of the Venetian masters, I wouldn't have felt such loss during my long travels when I could scarcely remember my beloved, whose face I'd left somewhere behind me. For if a lover's face survives emblazoned on your heart, the world is still your home."

Pamuk em My Name is Red.