Ficciones

"This was another of our fears: that Life wouldn't turn out to be like Literature"

Reparar a los vivos

“(…)Algún día tendrá que saber en qué sentido discurre el tiempo, si es lineal o describe las vueltas de un hula-hop, si forma círculos, se enrosca como la nervadura de una concha, si puede adoptar la forma de ese tubo que repliega la ola, aspira el mar y el universo entero en su reverso oscuro, sí, tendría que comprender de qué está hecho el tiempo que pasa.”

Maylis de Kerangal, Reparar a los vivos

15240304_10211266291921719_1202179540_n

Llafranc, 2016

(*)I can’t hold on to an empty space

Anuncios

The Lonely City

“You can be lonely anywhere, but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people.

Cities can be lonely places, and in admitting this we see that loneliness doesn’t necessary require physical solitude, but rather an absence or paucity of connection, closeness, kinship: an inability, for one reason or another, to find as much as intimacy as desired.”

Olivia Laing, The Lonely City. Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

img_9350

New York, 2015

(*)This will be just places to me now

Something must linger

“She had never entirely let go of the notion that if she reached far enough with her thoughts she might find someone waiting, that if two people were to cast their thoughts outward at the same moment they might somehow meet in the middle.”

“He had an idea—too sentimental to speak aloud and he knew none of his divorced friends would ever own up to it—that something must linger, a half-life of marriage, some sense memory of love even if obviously not the thing itself. He thought these people must mean something to one another, even if they didn’t like one another anymore.”

Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven

viñales

Cuba, 2016

(*)This is how we walk on the moon

 

The Girls

“So much desire, at that age, was a willful act. Trying so hard to slur the rough, disappointing edges of boys into the shape of someone we could love. We spoke of our desperate need for them with rote and familiar words, like we were reading lines from a play. Later I would see this: how impersonal and grasping our love was, pinging around the universe, hoping for a host to give form to our wishes.”

Emma Cline, The Girls

13709559_10209959968664454_196911643_o

Bologna, 2016

(*)A head full of dreams

A Little Life

“The only trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are -not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving- and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and to try to listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how bad -or good- it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of all. But the best, as well.”

Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

13442107_10209706951379180_1496429509_o

Brazil, 2015

(*)Sitting with the poison takes away the pain.

El amor dura tres años

“Nadie se plantea estas preguntas: ¿Hemos aprovechado la vida lo suficiente? ¿Deberíamos haber vivido de un modo distinto? ¿Estamos con la persona adecuada, en el lugar adecuado? ¿Qué nos ofrece este mundo? Desde el nacimiento hasta la muerte, conectamos nuestra existencia a un piloto automático, y hace falta una valentía sobrehumana para cambiar de rumbo.”

Frédéric Beigbeder, El amor dura tres años

13274963_10209526065777153_680158131_o

Lyon, 2016

(*)Te acuerdas de mí por fin.

Dept. of Speculation

“If I had to sum up what he did to me, I’d say it was this: he made me sing along to all the bad songs on the radio. Both when he loved me and when he didn’t.”

Jenny Offill, Dept. of Speculation

IMG_8009

Barcelona, 2016

Especies de espacios

“De hecho, tal como explica Perec en Especies de espacios, cada detalle de un lugar en el que fijemos nuestra atención es ya una narración en miniatura y, por tanto, toda novela es, en cierto modo, infinita.”

Enrique Vila-Matas, Marienbad eléctrico

12443417_10208916146049541_1315902732_o

París, 2016

The End of the Story

“And every idea had to be written down, on any piece of paper at all, at a shopping list, in a checkbook, in the margins and blank pages of a book I was reading. It had to be written down so that I would not forget it, even though I knew later some of these ideas wouldn’t seem worth remembering. And I was not always quick enough to write the thought down on paper and knew I had lost it and couldn’t recover it, and was aware of that as though it were a blank space on a page. I would have been even sorrier if I hadn’t known that each thought was accidental anyway.”

Lydia Davis, The End of the Story

12765651_10208797232076766_772315502_o

New York, 2015

The Mother of All Questions

“The problem may be a literary one: we are given a single story line about what makes a good life, even though not a few who follow that story line have bad lives. We speak as though there is one good plot with one happy outcome, while the myriad forms a life can take flower – and wither – all around us.”

Rebecca Solnit, The Mother of All Questions

IMG_6856

Barcelona, 2016