Costumava pensar que não vivia o suficiente. Olhava para os outros sempre de um lado para o outro e eu aqui dentro de quatro paredes. Durante o ano lectivo passava o meu tempo livre no quarto, nas férias continuava no mesmo sítio. Nada de festas, de grandes sozializações. Havia algo de errado. Agora, com a promessa de férias já a desenhar-se lá longe no horizonte já não quero sair. Abracei a minha natureza assim e não a queria de outra forma. Quero dias de lazer não para ir para grandes raves e bebedeiras mas para sossegadamente viajar por páginas desconhecidas. Por redescobrir a minha língua escrita. Por ouvir a brisa a passar pelos espanta-espíritos depois do almoço. Sair sim, mas não para sítios que sejam comummente apelidados de in. Anseio por ritmos mais calientes, os mesmos de sempre, por um mundo à parte do resto de mim, pelas caras e os sorrisos de sempre. No fim não importa nada as críticas que façam sobre como giro o meu tempo. Gosto-me assim.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Mary Reilly - Mrs Farraday
In a moment the door flew openand I was seized up by the cold, mean, hungry eyes of a woman who I could see greeted every new face as an occasion for suspicion and contempt. She was tall, not well dressed but not in the poor rags of her neighbourson the street by any means, and her hair, which was wiry, silver with age, untidy, seemed to stand out about her face in anger. Though her dress was clean it was cut too low for morning, and the bones that protuded at her throat, where some gentlewoman might place a locket or a bit of ribbon, stuck out looking raw,angry, like the rest of her. When she spoke, which she did at once, her voice was husky, her accent as rude as if she hated the words she spoke.
Valerie Martin, Mary Reilly
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Pretend
'I'm sorry, Mr Stevens,' Miss Kenton said behind mein an entirely new voice, as though she had just been jolted from a dream, 'I don't understand you.' The as I turned to her, she went on: 'As I recall, you thought it was only right and proper that Ruth and Sarah be sent packing. You were positively cheerful about it.'
'Now really, Miss Kenton, that is quite incorrect and unfair. The whole matter caused me great concern, great concern indeed. It is hardly the sort of thing I like to see happen in this house.'
'Then why, Mr Stevens, did you not tell me so at the time?'
I gave a laugh, but for a moment was rather at a loss for an answer. Before I could formulate one, Miss Kenton put down her sewing and said:
'Do you realise, Mr Stevens, how much it would have meant to me if you had thought to share your feelings last year? You knew how upset I was when my girls were dismissed. Do you realise how much it would have helped me? Why, Mr Stevens, why, why, why do you always have to pretend?'
The remains of the day
The remains of the day, Kazuo Ishiguro
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Weirdness
Dia tão escuro, triste... estranho. Filme cinzento a condizer. Sinto-me mal, começando a tocar o macambúzio. Apetece-me embrulhar-me nos lençóis, dormir e esquecer. Recomeçar amanhã. Este dia sabe mal. Bocejo sem sono e não sei que faça de mim. O trabalho chama. O trabalho fede a negro. Que mais fazer?... Suspiro. Faço chá numa caneca bem colorida e sento-me em frente das sebentas. Respiro bem fundo e cá vou eu...
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Frenchmen!
I can remember one morning around this time bringing Lord Darlington coffee in the breakfast room, and his saying to me as he folded The Times with some disgust: "Frenchmen. Really, I mean to say, Stevens. Frenchmen."
"Yes, sir."
"And to think we have to be seen by the world to be arm in arm with them. One wishes for a good bath at the mere reminder."
Kazuo Ishiguro, The remains of the day
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Sunday, May 06, 2007
I won't dance*
Ainda não esqueci o que me disseste naquela sexta-feira. Tantos dias e tantas noites já passaram e no entanto cada kizomba me lembro disso. Não voltei a ser a mesma. Agora que me diagnosticaste um problema que nem me tinha ocurrido que tinha oiço a tua voz encaixada no compasso. Não consigo simplesmente fechar os olhos e entregar-me como antes. Tenho medo de continuar nesta ilusão. Enquanto não rectificar esta falha duvido que consiga dançar sem culpas. A minha mente já não desliga como antes. Sinto-me mal, errada, considerando a hipótese de que tudo isto possa ser descartável cá dentro. E no meio desta confusão o que me assusta é que não consigo ver nenhuma forma de resolver o problema. Busco as tuas palavras mais uma vez e não encontro mais nada senão a constatação do que está errado. Deixaste-me com este buraco no peito e agora não sei como o colmatar.
*I won't dance, Frank Sinatra
Friday, May 04, 2007
Restraint
I would say that it is the very lack of obvious drama or spectacle that sets the beauty of our land apart. What is pertinent is the calmness of that beauty, its sense of restraint. It is as though the land knows of its own beauty, of its own greatness, and feels no need to shout it. In comparison, the sorts of sights offered in such places as Africa and America, though undoubtedly very exciting, would, I am sure, strike the objective viewer as inferior on account of their unseemly demonstrativeness.
The remains of the day, Kazuo Ishiguro
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
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