light gazing, ışığa bakmak

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

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encontrar alexandra alpha em guerra e paz-

"The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile."




há uma nova tradução de Anna Karénina de Filipe Guerra de quem eu gostava de ler uma tradução, qualquer uma, talvez mais Gogol. a ironia com Tolstoi é que todos estes filmes, séries, retratos, actuações, mini-séries, adaptações, etc etc - ignoram totalmente o livro e o seu autor e dedicam energias consumíveis e inconsumíveis a detalhes populistas e um pouco obscenos de a prataria, os vestidos, a beleza da actriz, o baile de gala - travestindo (sem desprimor dos travestis) a obra em pequenos arroubos de novela mexicana (a bela, o vilão, o drama, a miss mundo, a condessa e uma série de personagens que me lembro de ver nas fotonovelas que a minha tia guardava debaixo da cama).

porque li os sentimentos complexos do escritor perante essa beldade rechonchuda e branca, envolta em véus e rendas, que não serve para nada a não ser o seu papel de porcelana. esta beldade foi a mesma que Tolstoi empurrou mais tarde para debaixo das carruagens de um comboio.

ironias: "Tolstoy died in 1910, at the age of 82. He died of pneumonia at Astapovo train station (..."

"... Suddenly [Tolstoy] had an illumination. He remembered an occurrence that had deeply affected him the previous year. [1872] A neighbor and friend of his, Bibikov, the snipe hunter, lived with a woman named Anna Stepanovna Pirogova, a tall, full-blown woman with a broad face and an easy-going nature, who had become his mistress. But he had been neglecting her of late for his children's German governess. He had even made up his mind to marry the blond Fraulein. Learning of his treachery, Anna Stepanovna's jealousy burst all bounds; she ran away, carrying a bundle of clothes, and wandered about the countryside for three days, crazed with grief. Then she threw herself under a freight train at the Yasenki station. Before she died, she sent a note to Bibikov: "You are my murderer. Be happy, if an assassin can be happy. If you like, you can see my corpse on the rails at Yasenki." That was January 4, 1872. The following day Tolstoy had gone to the station, as a spectator, while the autopsy was being performed in the presence of a police inspector. Standing in a corner of the shed, he had observed every detail of the woman's body lying on the table, bloody and mutilated, with its skull crushed. How shameless, he thought, and yet how chaste. A dreadful lesson was brought home to him by that white, naked flesh, those dead breasts, those inert thighs that had felt and given pleasure. He tried to imagine the existence of this poor woman who had given all for love, only to meet with such a trite, ugly death." daqui


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