...Camina a son de blues

...Cuando llora , llora lágrimas dulces de colores

... Y lleva siempre zapatillas sin cordones

...Su vestimenta son prendas que hereda

...Regala detalles hechos a mano en navidad y cumpleaños

...Su risa es silenciosa y sin embargo contagiosa

...Su piel color canela desprende dicho aroma

...Da 7 besos por cada lunar

...Y 9 besos por cada gota de sudor

...Cuando recibe algún cumplido

..Cambia de color pues le gobierna el rubor

...y sólo baila charleston

...Bebe batidos de fresa y cena gelatina con cerezas

...Y en la Posada del Pony Pisador toma a media noche sus cervezas

...En verano manda mensajes en una botella

...Cuenta anécdotas sutilmente adornadas

... y de expresivas muecas acompañadas

...En su vocabulario no existe "Adiós"

Ella...
.......sueña 7 horas y 30 minutos al día despierta.

Mientras duerme tatarea La vie en Rose de Edith Piaf

Gracias a Diego por mostrarme más guitarristas de Blues, me encantan...Y después de escuchar bastante, he decidido que Johny Winters y su Strange Blues 1991 era el más apropiado para esa chica peculiar. Pero no puedo terminar este post sin compartir La Vie En Rose de Edith Piaf....ah, la de la foto soy yo, hecha por una amiga, Elba, y retocada por mí...

.

Grados de recomendación.

***** obra maestra
**** excelente
*** distinguida
** recomendada
* suficiente
- no recomendada

.

Semana 34:

Único comentario esta semana: Me volví a encontrar con The wicker man (1973) (8.5) por TCM, alrededor de la medianoche, y la volví a ver. A las 4:30 de la mañana me desperté de la peor pesadilla que he tenido en años. Aunque admito que hace años que no tengo pesadillas, y mucho menos una en la que despierto gritando. Caso extraño: Es "The wicker man" una de las películas más singulares que he visto (antes me debatía entre si era un mockumental, una tragedia o una de terror; ahora creo que es un musical), su encomiable realización la hace presta a vistas repetitivas, pero no quiero tenerla en mi videoteca, y si no vuelvo a verla otra vez, pues está bien.

Esta semana:

In the cut (J.Campion, 2003) **
Capote (B.Miller, 2005) ***
The wicker man (Hardy, 1973) ***

.

- - -

Contribuciones Cinematográficas Distinguidas:
(excepto: Capote, The wicker man)

.

Dirección:
In the cut (Jane Campion) **

Guión:
-

Producción:
-

Dirección de fotografía:
In the cut (Dion Beebe) **

Edición:
-

Arte:
-

Música original:
In the cut (Hilmmar Orm Hilmmarsson) **

Sonido:
-

Interpretación:
In the cut (Meg Ryan) **

.

.

-
En AM:
Peliculas recientes.
Cine.
Todas las películas que he visto.
Ranking: Las películas de 2007.

.

Grados de recomendación.

***** obra maestra
**** excelente
*** distinguida
** recomendada
* suficiente
- no recomendada

.

Semana 33:

El tiempo libre dedicado a las olimpíadas deja más secuelas, y sólo dos peliculas fueron visionadas esta semana, ambas ya vistas este año: El sorprendentemente bien realizado retrato del escritor Capote (2005) (7.0) en el proceso de investigación y creación del famoso libro "A sangre fría", y la elegante y elocuentemente dirigida Brokeback mountain (2005) (7.0) que tiene la virtud de rescatar la simpleza y agonía del arquetipo romántico "Romeo y Julieta", sin dejar rastros de zacarina o falsedad. Ambas películas ancladas en sendas interpretaciones protagónicas (Philip Seymour Hoffman y Heath Ledger, respectivamente), y con una sobria e inteligente realización cinematográfica como base. Ambas nominadas al Oscar de 2006 como Mejor Película; ambas, según nuestra opinión, las dos mejores películas americanas de su año, incomprensiblemente derrotadas por la mediocre "Crash". Incomprensible si no hacemos caso a Ernest Borgnine, claro.

Esta semana:

Brokeback mountain (A.Lee, 2005) ***
Capote (B.Miller, 2005) ***

.

- - -

Contribuciones Cinematográficas Distinguidas:
(excepto: Brokeback mountain, Capote)

.

Dirección:
-

Guión:
-

Producción:
-

Dirección de fotografía:
-

Edición:
-

Arte:
-

Música original:
-

Sonido:
-

Interpretación:
-

.

.

-
En AM:
Peliculas recientes.
Cine.
Todas las películas que he visto.
Ranking: Las películas de 2007.

She sat down on one of the rickety red-velvet chairs, curved her legs underneath her, and glanced round the room, her eyes puckering more pronouncedly. "How can you bear it? It's a chamber of horrors."

"Oh, you get used to anything," I said, annoyed with myself, for actually I was proud of the place.

"I don't. I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead." Her dispraising
eyes surveyed the room again. "What do you do here all day?"

I motioned to a table tall with books and paper. "Write things."

"I thought all writers were quite old. Of course Saroyan isn't old. I met him at a party, and really he isn't old at all. In fact," she mused, "if he'd give himself a closer shave... by the way, is Hemingway old?"

"In his forties, I should think."

"That's not bad. I can't get excited by a man until he's forty-two. I know this idiot girl who keeps telling me I ought to go to a head-shrinker; she says I have a father complex. Which is so much merde. I simply trained myself to like older men, and it was the smartest thing I ever did. How old is W. Somerset Maugham?"

"I'm not sure. Sixty-something."

"That's not bad. I've never been to bed with a writer. No, wait: do you know Benny Shacklett?" She frowned when I shook my head. "That's funny. He's written an awful lot of radio stuff. But quel rat. Tell me, are you a real writer?"

"It depends on what you mean by real."

"Well, darling, does anyone buy what you write?"

"Not yet."

Isn't that a marvel? To think of Truman Capote as an unpublished writer... Everyone is, at some point. That's tonight's lesson. Peace be with you.

xo

E

IMDB

Release: (2005)

Runtime: 114 Minutes

Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Clifton Collins Jr. & Catherine Keener.

This is the film about the author Truman Capote and his struggle in writing the novel "In Cold Blood".  We get to see the inner struggle of an author as he balances his desires for the success of his own novel and the life of a killer who he has seemingly fallen in love with.

Hoffman plays Capote as a whiny little flamboyant southerner who is clearly obsessed with himself.  I could barley stand to see him on screen and this was not because of his voice or his look, but because all he did was talk about himself and how wonderful he was.  I've seen him in enough other stuff to know that he did a great job with this role and I'm sure that is how he was trying to present it.

I enjoyed having some insight into the life of an author amongst high society in New York.  The production team did a great job setting the piece in the 1960's.  I can see what people liked in this one, but I just could not relate to the story or Capote's ego.

Accessibility: 6

Technique: 5

Thought Provoking: 6

Originality: 5

Entertainment: 5

The only exceptions I can think of to the rule that the first film out of the trap in a movie-race wins, are ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES, which was unharmed by following on the heels of a cheaper, more sombre ROBIN HOOD ("You do know this isn't the Kevin Costner film?" concerned staff would ask customers buying tickets for the Patrick Bergin version) and the ANTZ / A BUG'S LIFE and DEEP IMPACT / ARMAGEDDON face-offs.

And so to INFAMOUS, a fine little film by Doug McGrath, which came and went with little fuss, all its tremulous thunder stolen by CAPOTE. Apart from coming first, CAPOTE had a star of sorts, Philip Seymour Hoffman, who had paid his dues and was ready for Oscar appreciation. You may have heard people say that INFAMOUS is a better film, and I'd like to add my voice to that small hubbub of approval. INFAMOUS is not only livelier, funnier, more moving, more erotic and more intelligent, it is better cast.

It may have hurt McGrath's film that people hadn't heard of its star, but there's no arguing he chose the right man (though I wouldn't mind seeing Zelda Rubinstein, the little woman from POLTERGEIST, play Capote). Toby Jones, son of the unique Freddie Jones, a Shadowplay favourite, has two crucial advantages over the somewhat bear-like Hoffman. (1) Jones is a little guy, like Capote. This turns out to be more important than you'd think, allowing references to Capote's smallness and accompanying toughness. (2) Jones has a much better script to work from. McGrath's writing flows more smoothly than that of CAPOTE scribe Dan Futterman (this may be to do with the direction also), traversing the story in a pacy but unhurried fashion, where CAPOTE seems slow, threatening to stall altogether at times. McGrath seems bolder in his handling of artistic license, too. It's ironic that both films take Capote to task for fictionalising reality, and both films are forced by necessity to invent their own versions of the truth. McGrath embraces this and concentrates on telling a good dramatic story.

My least favourite thing about CAPOTE, which had good acting and a strong picturesque feel for Kansan landscapes, was its attempt to create some kind of comparison between the crimes committed by the killers Capote chose to write about, and Capote's supposed moral crime in exploiting their story. I simply can't see any justification for making a comparison at all. Whatever Capote's behaviour may be, it is in no way comparable to snuffing an entire family. Let's be sensible. INFAMOUS manages to avoid milking this tempting comparison, detailing Capote's dishonesties and betrayals without suggesting that his guilt has any equivalence to that of the cold-blooded murderers he woos.

McGrath's brightness has other advantages too. While CAPOTE's highlight is the author giving a public reading of In Cold Blood, which showcases Hoffman's skill and command of our attention, but reveals the weakness of the script in comparison to Capote's prose, INFAMOUS doesn't quote the book at length but does provide a higher standard of wit throughout.

CAPOTE is a decent TV movie with an outstanding central performance from a superb actor who does everything possible to overcome a physical inappropriateness to the role.

INFAMOUS is a modestly conceived but very smart and interesting movie with an outstanding central performance from an equally superb actor who is able to fit the role perfectly, and I hope we'll be hearing a lot more from him.

And then there's Richard Brooks's film of IN COLD BLOOD, which is a BLOODY MASTERPIECE, and Capote's book itself, which is even better.

Many times in the course of my life, glaring omissions in my knowledge of the world appear, realizing recently that there was a book (novella) version of the famous movie Breakfast At Tiffany's was one of those things. I have had the movie in my Netflix queue for ages, but just about anything sounds better and it doesn't move up. Truman Capote arises on Jeopardy! fairly frequently. He's supposed to be really famous for being a great writer too. My knowledge of Truman Capote was, "Isn't he some dead writer dude?" So I was completely shocked that he'd written something I'd heard of.

Now, let us get into the book itself. I was very very interested by the beginning, where the narrator of the book sounds a lot like I imagine Capote himself would have sounded. It was that kind of book, where enough facts coincide and it looks like the author's fantasy life spilled onto a public page. But the narrator starts out saying that it never occurred to him to tell the story of this everyday experience/life he had even though it's clearly what he really knows. Modern advice-for-writers pounds that idea so heavily that creativity can have its edge blunted. Some other modern advice is to "show, not tell", but this is very terse narration with bits of really dramatic scenes. Pretty much all the advice I have ever seen for authors is tossed out the window with Breakfast At Tiffany's. And yet, the writing in this is stunning. I found myself wanting to go back and read portions again.

The quality of writing and the degree of control in this book and by this author is enormous. The flashbacks aren't tightly reined, but I followed along without error. The characters live in my imagination despite my not knowing anyone like any of those people. The world described is something I can see in my mind's eye. You see? It's brilliant. Hands down, utterly brilliant.

And it's all fucking wasted on the most loser story in the history of the planet.

Flighty useless woman lives in New York City, has a flighty useless life, gets lots of men panting after her, continues being flighty and useless, book ends.

In a recent post about Arabian Nights, I said, "To my mind, there should be a penalty for doing a mediocre job with a great idea, thus wasting the idea." I wish we could have combined some of the really amazing story ideas out there with the writing efforts of Truman Capote.

I will be pulling the movie from my queue. I can't imagine a way that the movie would be anything less than disappointing since the only thing I liked from the book was Capote's work.

I read one of the following short stories and again found the writing very elegant (sparse alternating with glorious detail to keep the reader's attention focused) but again the story was so horrible (not gory or sad necessarily, or even badly written, just why would you ever want to read that?) that I felt physically ill.

Truman Capote was really extraordinarily talented and wasted it writing depressing stories wrapped in frivolity about nothing. If he could have taken that ability to capture the essence of a scene and used it to document history, I think generations of schoolchildren would stop thinking history was for the dead. If Capote could have actually used his imagination and gone for the kinds of world-building we see in Tolkien, Peter Jackson would have been too busy to do Lord of the Rings.

So the writing in Breakfast At Tiffany's is about as close to godlike as I have seen, but the story was flat-out nauseatingly bad.

I also read more Truman Capote - Summer Crossing.  And I am reading Answered Prayers right now.  And I watched a documentary about Truman, a film he starred in, and two movies about In Cold Blood.  In Cold Blood, by the way?  The only of his books I can't get into.  It's too dense, too much to digest.  It's so meticulously researched; you can tell Capote was loathe to leave out any detail because they were all so important to him.  Which makes me love Truman even if I don't love In Cold Blood.

I guess part of why I haven't been keeping up also has to do with a kind of dry spell in my writing ambitions.  Periodically, I feel like everything I have ever written is complete rubbish and isn't even worth my time to rework.  I feel like everything on my mind and everything in progress is a bad copy of something that someone else did to perfection.  And then I stop writing.  When I talked about my writing problems with my smart boy, he suggested that I re-read my mission statement.  So I did.  And I'm back, for better or worse.  Probably worse until I get my head in the game and a few words on the page.

In Cold Blood is about two criminals who think they've found a good gig when one of their inmates tells them about a farm job he used to have. The inmate tells them that the farmer spends $10,000 a week to run his business and the two assume the farmer, Mr. Clutter, keeps all that cash in a safe on his property. Once the two are released from jail, they drive 300 miles to the Clutter farm with the intentions of robbing the place and leaving no witnesses. When they get there they learn what anyone from the Clutter's town knows about the family: Mr. Clutter never has any cash on him. The locals joke that he'd write you a check for $1.50 because he never carries that much cash on him. Unfortunately, the lack of cash doesn't save the family and all 4 family members are shot in the head. It was a crime that rocked the nation in 1959 because it happened in such a small town, where people were presumably more safe than in big cities.

Capote interviews everyone in the town and the two killers after they've been caught and he paints a vivid picture of the town and these criminals. You almost begin to feel sorry for the two criminals who had such hard lives up to this point. But once they describe the murder to detectives (more than halfway through the book), you can't help but be horrified by them. Up until this point you only had a vague idea of what happened based on what police thought. Hearing it straight from the murderers was difficult because they didn't seem to understand that they'd done anything wrong. One of them, Perry Smith, even says, "I thought he was a very nice, gentle man. I thought so right up until I slit his throat."

I read this book at home alone at night and ended up not being able to sleep because it gave me the creepies. It was really well written and I recommend it, but if you're a scaredy cat like me, make sure someone is home with you so you can discuss it and get out all those worries.

This book was also reviewed by:
Nymeth at Things Mean a Lot
A bookworm's reviews
The Book Tiger

USA 2005 | Regi: Bennett Miller | Spilletid: 114 min | IMDb

En vinterdag i 1959 begår to menn en grusom handling i Kansas. Åstedet er et hus i landelige omgivelser hvor en hel familie likvideres. Da Truman Capote tilfeldigvis kommer over en avisartikkel som beskriver hendelsen, fatter han umiddelbart interesse og får nærmest et kall om at dette er noe han bør skrive om. Og det gjør han.

Han reiser til Kansas for å føle på nærmiljøet og se hvordan samfunnet har respondert på tragedien. Det gjør han ved å intervjue mennesker. Gradvis går det opp for han at denne saken har så mange sider og er blitt så omfattende, at han istedenfor å skrive en artikkel for The New Yorker -- som opprinnelig var planen -- bestemmer seg for å forfatte en bok om hendelsen.

Og når gjerningsmennene blir fanget og Capote får tillatelse til å snakke med dem, så avdekkes både deres og hans personlighet. Prosessen trekker ut i tid og setter sitt preg på mennesket Truman Capote. Han er fullt ut oppmerksom på de etiske kvalene og sin dobbeltrolle som forfatter på den ene siden, og det fortrolige forholdet som gradvis er oppstått mellom ham og fangene på den andre siden. Mennesker som venter på døden, men likevel lever i et håp. Capote er derimot avhengig av å fullføre sin bok. Og den skriker etter en slutt: de må dø - og helst ganske snart.

Det er ingen hemmelighet at det til slutt ender med at Capote får fullført sitt prosjekt og gir ut boka In Cold Blood (en tittel med minst to betydninger) som raskt ble omtalt som et litterært mesterverk og fremdeles blir det. Men før det - når handlingen i filmen starter - bør det nevnes at Capote allerede hadde rukket å oppnå stjernestatus i kjølevannet av Breakfast at Tiffany's, og dermed hatt anledning til å menge seg med de celebritetene som ønsket hans selskap - og det var det mange av. Hans nærmeste venninne, som ledsaget ham gjennom arbeidet med In Cold Blood var for øvrig forfatteren Harper Lee (spilt av Catherine Keener) som vant Pulitzer Prize for To Kill a Mockingbird rundt denne tiden (som ble til en praktfull film noen år senere).

Capote kan sies å være en todelt film. For det første forteller den en høyst interessant historie om det grundige researcharbeidet Truman Capote gikk gjennom i forkant av sitt endelige bokprosjekt. Men filmen er vel så interessert i å utforske mennesket Truman Capote. Gjennom ulike vinkler blir vi kjent med en sjeldent fascinerende person med urovekkende mange sider.

I filmens begynnelse ser vi hovedsaklig den eksentriske, livelige og nysgjerrige siden ved forfatteren. Men etter hvert avdekkes flere lag, og følgelig fremstår Capote som et splittet menneske med tvilsom moralsk forfatning, selvopptatt som få, tidvis usikker og innadvent, men i enkelte settinger munter og i sitt ess når det bys opp til fest. En kompleks person med et vidt spekter på mange måter, og den særegne stemmen blir prikken over i'en. De som måtte mene at det blir overdrevent, kan informeres om at Hoffman faktisk har underspilt Capote sin karakteristiske stemme!

Det er nok ganske sikkert en fordel å ha lest boka (noe jeg ikke har gjort) eller sett filmatiseringen av In Cold Blood (noe jeg har gjort), men langt i fra nødvendig. Filmen er praktfull i seg selv. Og på den andre siden vil du helt sikkert få lyst å utforske boka etter å ha sett denne filmen.

Det har blitt sagt og skrevet mye om hvor fantastisk Philip Seymour Hoffman er, og derfor skal jeg ikke brette videre ut om det, men det er faktisk umulig å overvurdere prestasjonen. Han er suveren. Høy kvalitet er det også på Bennett Millers stramme regi og det minimalistiske fotoarbeidet som faktisk minner om legendariske Conrad L. Halls fra 60-tallets In Cold Blood-filmatisering. Tidsepoken er nydelig gjengitt.

I løpet av om lag to timer med Capote, så ble alle mine behov når det kommer til film mettet. Dette er en film som stimulerer både hjertet og hjernen!

Nada como raspar a pedaleira no chão...

Ops...

Tá faltando alguma coisa...

El acto de fumar un puro es mucho más placentero si se sabe en realidad qué es lo que se está haciendo y se hace bien. Requiere de un ambiente tranquilo, agradable (los puros regalados en las bodas no saben igual que en casa ante un buen café, una copa y un par de amigos).

Por ello, vamos a intentar explicar algo más los aspectos más importantes de este hábito. El habano está compuesto de tres partes: la tripa (el contenido), el capote (el envoltorio de la tripa) y la capa (la hoja exterior del puro).

Elegir un buen puro (puede ser un excelente regalo) no es tarea difícil si uno se deja llevar por sus sentidos y no por otros factores como el precio. El puro debe tener un color adecuado y estar bien terminado, debe oler a tabaco fresco, y debe estar firme pero no excesivamente duro. El tamaño del mismo depende en gran medida del momento en que vaya a fumarse y el tiempo que se disponga para ello.

Tras su elección, comienza el ritual de corte (lo ideal es un cortapuros), ya que utilizando los dientes el puro puede sufrir un desgarro innecesario. Si lo desea, puede retirar la vitola del puro, aunque la misma no afecta en absoluto al sabor del mismo. Enciéndalo con una cerilla de vara larga o un mechero de gas (con algo inodoro) y vaya girándolo hasta encenderlo por completo.

El puro no se aspira, se deja en la boca para paladear su sabor y si quiere disfrutarlo, no lo moje en ningún licor, ya que cambiará el sabor del habano. Fume las tres cuartas partes del mismo. Y recuerde que no es un cigarrillo, la ceniza debe caer por sí misma y se debe apagar de forma natural, sobre el cenicero.

Si desea obtener más información sobre este tema, no dude en visitar los siguientes enlaces:

What do you do with €5.00 for dinner?
Go for tapas.  Try Calle Mateas Gago (spitting distance from the cathedral) or go across the river to Triana.

What about €10.00?
Cerveceria Giralda on Calle Mateas Gago--red peppers stuffed with prawns.
Bar Europa in Plaza de Pan--salmorejo (thicker, creamier version of gazpacho).
Or any of the places on Cano y Cueto, opposite the Jardines de Murillo.

Who has the happiest happy hour?
Seasonal bar Capote, by the river, is the best place for a sundowner. Tucked away next to the Triana Bridge, it has a beach vibe that´s hard to beat and cocktails that will knock your sandals off.

How much is too much to spend on transportation?
Don´t understand the question; horse and carriage hire is about 40 Euros an hour; otherwise there is a pick-up drop-off bike hire system, tram, buses and taxis

What are your top three free thrills?
Monasterio La Cartuja - 14th-century Carthusian monastery, reached by a small bridge over the river offering great views. The monastery gardens are beautiful, with orange trees, lavender and bouganvillea, and the chapel, cloisters and other rooms are wonderful. Formerly used as a tile factory, the tall, cone-shaped chimneys remain, now an icon of the monastery.

Parque Maria Luisa - hidden, leafy corners; mosaic-tiled pools; a waterfall, and tour of Latin American architecture, courtesy of the remaining 1929 Expo pavilions, especially Peru, Guatemala and Colombia.

Stroll along the river from Plaza de Armas bus station to the Muelle de las Delicias, passing bridges, towers and sculptures. Plenty of places to stop for a drink or an ice-cream, while admiring the picture-postcard views of Triana across the river. 

My one big indulgence is…
Small clams called coquinas, cooked with garlic and wine.

If I had all the money in the world, I’d buy…
A gleaming horse-drawn carriage to ride around in like Lady Muck, especially at the Feria.

Photo courtesy FFW

Je parlais d'écriture avant-hier et s'il y a un film qui parle bien de l'obsession de l'écrivain, c'est le film Capote avec Phillip Seymour Hoffman qui a remporté le prix du meilleur acteur en 2006 pour sa performance hallucinante du célèbre écrivain Truman Capote. Il n'imite pas l'écrivain, il est possédé par lui carrément. J'ai vu le film deux fois : une fois en version originale en DVD et aujourd'hui à Télé-Québec (d'ailleurs, je suis surpris, la version française n'était pas si mal... pas aussi bonne que la version originale mais quand même). Le film décrit toute la recherche et le processus d'écriture de son chef-d'oeuvre, De sang froid, un roman réalité basé sur le quadruple homicide d'une famille du Kansas. Au fil de ses recherches obsessives, il se lie d'amitié solidement avec Perry Smith, un des deux meurtriers. Il faut dire qu'il se reconnaît en lui, il aurait pu faire les mêmes choses car tous les deux ont eu une enfance trouble. Sauf que lui est devenu un écrivain flamboyant, bête sociale et populaire alors que ce jeune homme est devenu un assassin qui finira pendu. Le livre prendra tellement toute son énergie et le videra de ses forces: ça sera la chimère qui le tuera. Déprimé, vidé et plongeant dans l'alcool sans jamais s'en sortir (malgré des tentatives de réhabilitation), il mourra à peine un mois avant ma naissance en août 1984 de complications liées à son alcoolisme.

Bref, je voulais vous convaincre de un, voir l'excellent film (juste la performance de Hoffman vaut à lui seul le coup d'oeil, la subtilité de son jeu derrière ses yeux bleus perçants) et de deux vous donner l'exemple à quelle point l'obsession d'une bonne histoire pour un écrivain peut le mettre dans tous vos états. Autant il y a une euphorie, autant il peut y avoir des moments de déprime profonde. C'est vraiment intense. Je ne saurais vraiment l'expliquer. Une fois que tout est mis en place, que la recherche (s'il y en a besoin) est faite et que vous avez placés les pions de votre histoire dans votre tête, vous perdez le sens des réalités et vous écrivez jusqu'à une fatigue mentale. Puis là, vous faites autre chose carrément pour mieux y revenir. C'est dément à quel point il y a presque une perte de conscience de soi. En écrivant de la fiction, on finit par se laisser aller par les personnages et eux seuls guident les conversations. Au point qu'on se relit et on se dit: "Hein ? J'ai écrit ça ?" Ça a l'air dément, hein ? Mais c'est ça. Bon, par contre, je n'ai toujours pas répondu à la question que Pascal (auteur du blogue que je "plogue" trop mais je suis trop passionné pour arrêter, Mon petit nombril) m'a posée lundi... J'y répondrai demain ou après-demain. Là, je vais me reposer.

Ouh, en passant, Verdict du Satellite pour Capote: 9.5/10. C'est formidable. Malgré une certaine lenteur du récit, on ne s'ennuie jamais et on est fascinés par la performance du génial Phillip Seymour Hoffman et par le personnage de Truman Capote. Un écrivain ouvertement homosexuel dans les années 60 d'ailleurs, ce qui étonne (bon, c'était "permis" pour la gent artistique de l'époque mais habituellement il fallait être tout de même discret dans ses relations).

No se enamore nunca de ninguna criatura salvaje, Mr. Bell. Esa fue la equivocación de Doc. Siempre se llevaba a su casa seres salvajes. Halcones con el ala rota. Otra vez trajo un lince rojo con una pata fracturada. Pero no hay que entregarles el corazón a los seres salvajes: cuanto más se lo entregas, más fuertes se hacen. Hasta que se sienten lo suficientemente fuertes para huir al bosque. O subirse volando a un árbol. Y luego a otro árbol más alto. Y luego al cielo. Así terminará usted, Mr. Bell, si se entrega a alguna criatura salvaje. Terminará con la mirada fija en el cielo.

El poder de la palabra

Vejam uma ótima seleção dos lances que acontecem nos melhores gramados do mundo.  Boa escolha pra um sábado à noite antes de se encontar com os amigos.

"Porra, mas isso nunca me aconteceu antes!" hahaha

- Ericorvo -

Two out of two for TC.  Did someone say genius?

The friendship between Joel and Idabel, in particular, reminds me of my cousin and I.  When we were elementary school BFFs, I'd make him play barbies and in return I'd have to play hot wheels; but mostly we skinned our knees, climbed rocks, played cops & robbers on rusty dumptrucks, crashed a tandem bike on loose gravel, helped grandma with the garden planting, shared superman ice cream, hung the flypaper for rummage sales, hid and sought, ran together from our bully of a cousin four years our senior...and then we grew up.  He became cool and I became awkward.  Twenty years later, he's got 2.5 kids, a six-figure job and a vacation home.  Twenty years later, I'm not sure where I'll be living 3 months from now, am still trying to write the next great American novel and have only (relatively) recently found someone I intend to happily spend the rest of my life with.  My cousin and I, we are nothing alike, but we're still more alike than anyone else in our family.  There's a kind of relief we each have in common at our withdrawal from the family drama: of twenty-plus cousins, we are the only two who left.  He and I communicate through our parents, our grandma.  We each ask about the other but never seem to think we've got enough in common to talk directly to one another.  This is the sadness of growing up: we develop a kind of self-consciousness that hinders us from really knowing people as well as we might.  We reserve our openness for very few people.  Other Voices, Other Rooms explores the kind of profound loneliness we have all felt at least once.

Rabbit trails aside, Capote's first novel is about a child who goes looking for a place he belongs, and finds that where he belongs is the place he least expects to, and least intends to.  That he can survive in the throes of a household of broken people convinces him that he can survive in any way he chooses to, himself broken or not.

Capote also includes his own "what is art?" statement, via the following bit of dialogue:

The feeble-minded, the neurotic, the criminal, perhaps, also, the artist, have unpredictability and perverted innocence in common...Let's compare them to a Chinese chest: the sort, you remember, that opens into a second box, another, atill another, until at length you come upon the last...the latch is touched, the lid springs open to reveal...what unsuspected cache?...[senseless, pointless, violent action] is the kind of thing that happens when you tamper with the smallest box.

All of the characters in this book have a single thing in common: they have an inability to love in a socially sanctioned way.  Their isolation is both a result of their particular "flaws" and an outcome of attempting to find love despite them.  In a way, the coming of the child Joel Harrison Knox to Skully's Landing is the coming of a savior, an unloved isolated child who manages to transcend his losses and thereby bring hope to the devastated household.

por Luis Francisco Castillo Rodríguez

Si allá por agosto me hubiese dicho que este Real Zaragoza iba a descender a Segunda División, no me lo hubiera creído. Sin embargo, ayer el cuadro maño finiquitó su andadura en Primera. Ha sido el sorpresón de la temporada, sin duda. Era un equipo diseñado para lograr un puesto Champions, o un puesto UEFA como mínimo. Un Zaragoza edificado por gente sensata y hecho con buen gusto por un entrenador de primera se nos marcha a Segunda. ¿Qué ocurrió? Bueno, eso es relativo. Quizá la situación deportiva se ha visto agravada por el nerviosismo de la directiva, la falta de actitud de algunos jugadores o el cese de sucesivos entrenadores.

La otra cara de la moneda la puso el Racing de Santander, ese club viejo que estuvo a un paso de no llegar a la orilla del trayecto; un último esfuerzo, un último gol metió al Racing, por méritos propios, en puestos UEFA. El Racing es un club con 95 años de historia que nunca había jugado una competición internacional. De hecho, ni siquiera había jugado una final de la Copa del Rey. Dejémoslo en que el fútbol es sabio y paga sus deudas. Un equipo capitaneado por Munitis, ese guerrillero del área, y entrenado por Marcelino, ese gran entrenador con poca carrera y todo éxitos. En definitiva, felicidades al Racing, pero también al Dépor, que tras una primera vuelta desastrosa terminará jugando la Intertoto.

Y Raúl por fin sacó el capote

Entretanto, en el Bernabéu hubo finalmente partido. Partido y fiesta, con Raúl y su capote. Goles y fuegos artificiales para la segunda Liga consecutiva de Calderón. Y con récord de puntos. Sin embargo, ayer hubo movida en la asamblea de compromisarios para aprobar los nuevos estatutos de Calderón. Muchos dicen que es, todavía, la asamblea de Florentino. Quizá lo sea. Tal vez hagan falta más títulos para apagar el fuego de Florentino y sus galácticos; quizá con la Champions sea suficiente. Mientras la Asamblea pedía que Calderón dimitiera, el Bernabéu hacía la ola y festejaba el título de Liga. El mundo se ha vuelto loco.

El madrid 'vuelve' a celebrar la Liga

Tarde de lágrimas y lluvia en el Ono Stadi

European Vibe Magazine, May 2008

The American Dream

There was something quintessentially American about Truman Capote. Something ingrained both deep within his writing and his personality that exuded both the sass and the hedonism of mid-twentieth century United States. At the mention of his name, the seductive novella, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, might spring to mind, as might anecdotes of the endless parties and his reckless drug binges conducted from his position at the head of a New York artistic clique during the 1950s and 1960s.

Whilst some of these facts are indisputably true, it is well worth remembering that the maverick author composed the majority of his most famous work, In Cold Blood, in a seaside cottage, perched less than a minute from the gentle waves of the Mediterranean on the Spanish Costa Brava. The coast that arcs up from Barcelona towards the French border, full of vivid blues and greens, has long been considered the perfect nursery for creative work and Capote spent much of his time during the early 1960s exploiting the relaxed atmosphere it afforded him.

In writing In Cold Blood, Capote claimed to have established a new literary genre; the non fiction novel. The book examined the brutal murders of a wealthy farming family in Kansas in an apparently motiveless crime. Following the killings, Capote had spent months embedding himself within the local community, collecting hundreds of pages of notes in a series of interviews with citizens of the shocked Mid Western village of Holcomb. Upon his return to New York, he announced to his peers that he intended to seek a period of seclusion, isolating himself from his usual temptations, and slipped away to Spain where he was to write one of the most significant books of the century.

Natural talent

Few writers have shared quite the sense of rhythm for the English language that was Capote’s natural gift. His depiction of the Kansan community was haunting: full of withering imagery and seductive prose. Capote is one of those authors who is well worth quoting at length, and the first page of In Cold Blood sees him already at his glittering best,

“Some seventy miles east of the Colorado border, the countryside, with its hard blue skies and desert-clean air, has an atmosphere that is rather more Far West than Middle West. The local accent is barbed with a prairie twang, a ranch-hand nasalness, and the men, many of them, wear narrow frontier trousers, Stetsons, and high-heeled boots with pointed toes.”

This style was a clear departure from the accepted way of reporting factual events, either in newspapers or on the radio. Inspired by Capote’s success in fusing detail and drama with a factual story, the ‘new journalism’ movement grew in the wake of the book’s publication. Stories weren’t just expected to be factually accurate, but also aesthetically pleasing. Others were not impressed, decrying the author for debasing the truth and converting real people without permission into works of art.

Nevertheless, In Cold Blood remains a breathtakingly good read. Its characterisation of the murdered family and the two merciless killers is vivid and harrowing: the American dream turning into the American nightmare. Of all the memorable, biting sentences that Capote authored during those comfortable years spent on the Spanish coast, one, spoken by the murderer Perry Smith about his first victim Herbert Clutter, will brand itself into the readers’ conscience for its sheer distain for human life.

“I thought he was a very nice gentleman. Soft-spoken. I thought so right up to the moment I cut his throat.”

Una vicenda a dir poco affascinante quella della stesura di A sangue freddo, capolavoro dello scrittore e giornalista americano Truman Capote. Vicenda messa in scena, come il titolo dice chiaramente, in Truman Capote – A sangue freddo di Bennett Miller, con un eccellente Philip Seymour Hoffman, ottimo caratterista della meglio Hollywood anni ’90, qui decisamente in stato di grazia e decisamente meritevole dell’Oscar a cui è candidato. Sul finire del 1959 in Kansas una famiglia venne letteralmente sterminata nel cuore della notte, nella sua casa, nella quieta campagna di un quietissimo paesino. La mattina dopo, nel suo bell’appartamento di New York, Truman Capote – all’epoca una celebrità per aver scritto Colazione da Tiffany – legge della notizia in un trafiletto del New York Times e addrizza subito le antenne. Capote propone immediatamente al giornale per cui scrive, il New Yorker, di andare nella cittadina del Kansas per fare un reportage giornalistico. Ma arrivato là, in una comunità rurale così differente dalla New York colta e snob che il nostro frequenta abitualmente, qualcosa scatta nella sua mente, e lo scrittore decide di non farne più un semplice pezzo di cronaca, ma un romanzo. Il primo romanzo-documentario della letteratura americana, perché Capote vorrà seguire minuziosamente tutto, dalle indagini fino ai processi, con il loro triste esito: sarà il capolavoro di Truman Capote e diventerà uno dei libri più importanti della letteratura americana del XX secolo.

Ma a che prezzo Capote realizzò la sua titanica opera? A un prezzo davvero alto, perché l’autore non si misurò con una creatura immaginaria, con la propria finzione artistica, ma con la realtà. Le cui regole, i cui tempi, le cui strutture, non possono essere davvero controllate e gestite dall’alto. Capote, infatti, attese ben sei anni per poter terminare il proprio capolavoro. E nel frattempo strinse un rapporto complesso con uno degli autori del massacro, con cui intrattenne un’amicizia ambigua e psichicamente devastante. Il film trae forza, come il romanzo di cui racconta la genesi, proprio dagli avvenimenti reali di cui riporta la cronaca fedele. Sobrissimo nella messa in scena, intessuto di lunghi dialoghi, lento nel ritmo del racconto, ben fotografato e onestamente diretto, Truman Capote – A sangue freddo riesce a porre domande di non poco conto sul rapporto tra arte ed etica, sul cinismo della rappresentazione, sulle regole perfide che presiedono alla creazione di un’opera. Capote, personaggio esemplare, farà infatti i conti come per un contrappasso diabolico, con il lato oscuro della ibris creativa. E la creatura divorerà il creatore, perché la vita non la si sottomette neppure con il genio. Il film ha il pregio di porci queste domande, quesiti eticamente pesanti: quanto narcisismo c’è nell’arte? Quanto vampirismo è alla base dell’atto creativo? Ma anche: senza questa genialità a tratti malefica, il mondo non sarebbe anche peggio di quello che è? Un bel lavoro. Che stimola anche a leggere o rileggere con sguardo attento quell’incredibile libro che è A sangue freddo.

Truman Capote – A sangue freddo, di Bennet Miller, USA, 2005, 98 min.

Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener, Clifton Collins Jr., Chris Cooper, Bruce Greenwood, Bob Balaban, Amy Ryan, Marshall Bell, Mark Pellegrino.

Uscita: 17 febbraio 2006