"Anyone who doesn't read Cortzar is doomed. Not to read him is a serious invisible disease which in time can have terrible consequences. Something similar to a man who has never tasted peaches. He would quietly become sadder... and probably, little by little, would lose his hair. " -Neruda
Get on it!
I was surprised to not see much love for him in lit club.
Here are a couple excerpts from "The Instruction Manual" from the book Cronopios and Famas.
INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO SING
Begin by breaking all the mirrors in the house, let your arms fall to your side, gaze vacantly at the wall, forget yourself. Sing one single note, listen to it from inside. If you hear (but this will happen much later) something like a landscape overwhelmed with dread, bonfires between the rocks squatting with half-naked silhouettes, I think you'll be well on your way, and the same if you hear a river, boats painted yellow and black are coming down it, if you hear the smell of fresh bread, the shadow of a horse.
Afterwards, buy a manual of voice instruction and a dress jacket, and please, don't sing through your nose and leave poor Schumann at peace.
PREAMBLE TO THE INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO WIND A WATCH
Think of this: When they present you with a watch they are gifting you with a tiny flowering hell, a wreath of roses, a dungeon of air. They aren't simply wishing the watch on you, and many more, and we hope it will last you, it's a good brand, Swiss, seventeen rubies; they aren't just giving you this minute stonecutter which will bind you by the wrist and walk along with you. They are giving you-- and they don't know it-- they are gifting you with a new, fragile and precarious piece of yourself, something that's yours but not a part of your body, that you have to strap to your body like your belt, like a tiny, furious bit of something hanging onto your wrist. They gift you with the job of having to wind it every day, an obligation to wind it, so that it goes on being a watch; they gift you with the obsession of looking into jewelry-shop windows to check the exact time, check the radio announcer, check the telephone service. They give you the gift of fear, someone will steal it from you, it'll fall on the street and get broken. They give you the gift of your trademark and the assurance that it's a trademark better than the others, they gift you with the impulse to compare your watch with other watches. They aren't giving you a watch, you are the gift, they're giving you yourself for the watch's birthday.
I won't post the actual "Instructions on How to Wind a Watch" so if you want to read it, you'll just have to go find a copy of the book for yourself... Nor did I post a favorite of mine, "How to Climb a Staircase" because, well, I don't want to spoil it for you (probably nonexistent) people who will actually seek him out.
now, something for anyone who might be reading this who doesn't have an interest in latin american literature:
a cute, scruffy highland calf!
ALSO, sorry for the fucked up quotes. I'm not totally inept, i swear, it must be a bug.
Get on it!
I was surprised to not see much love for him in lit club.
Here are a couple excerpts from "The Instruction Manual" from the book Cronopios and Famas.
INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO SING
Begin by breaking all the mirrors in the house, let your arms fall to your side, gaze vacantly at the wall, forget yourself. Sing one single note, listen to it from inside. If you hear (but this will happen much later) something like a landscape overwhelmed with dread, bonfires between the rocks squatting with half-naked silhouettes, I think you'll be well on your way, and the same if you hear a river, boats painted yellow and black are coming down it, if you hear the smell of fresh bread, the shadow of a horse.
Afterwards, buy a manual of voice instruction and a dress jacket, and please, don't sing through your nose and leave poor Schumann at peace.
PREAMBLE TO THE INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO WIND A WATCH
Think of this: When they present you with a watch they are gifting you with a tiny flowering hell, a wreath of roses, a dungeon of air. They aren't simply wishing the watch on you, and many more, and we hope it will last you, it's a good brand, Swiss, seventeen rubies; they aren't just giving you this minute stonecutter which will bind you by the wrist and walk along with you. They are giving you-- and they don't know it-- they are gifting you with a new, fragile and precarious piece of yourself, something that's yours but not a part of your body, that you have to strap to your body like your belt, like a tiny, furious bit of something hanging onto your wrist. They gift you with the job of having to wind it every day, an obligation to wind it, so that it goes on being a watch; they gift you with the obsession of looking into jewelry-shop windows to check the exact time, check the radio announcer, check the telephone service. They give you the gift of fear, someone will steal it from you, it'll fall on the street and get broken. They give you the gift of your trademark and the assurance that it's a trademark better than the others, they gift you with the impulse to compare your watch with other watches. They aren't giving you a watch, you are the gift, they're giving you yourself for the watch's birthday.
I won't post the actual "Instructions on How to Wind a Watch" so if you want to read it, you'll just have to go find a copy of the book for yourself... Nor did I post a favorite of mine, "How to Climb a Staircase" because, well, I don't want to spoil it for you (probably nonexistent) people who will actually seek him out.
now, something for anyone who might be reading this who doesn't have an interest in latin american literature:
a cute, scruffy highland calf!
ALSO, sorry for the fucked up quotes. I'm not totally inept, i swear, it must be a bug.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
I have to say I'm quite happy with the movie, especially for it being my first. It changed a lot from when I started on it, because of the long timeline for production, structure changes and the shifts in director slots, but what I like about the end product is what grabbed me about the project from the beginning - the diversity of viewpoints on the city and the contrasting takes on various types of love/relationships.