Hell Of The Other Essays

For days I have started Murakami's novel "South of the Border, West of the Sun." The got through. The Japanese had read "Tokyo Blues" and "Sputnik, Mi Amor", but this other novel tells a story that shocked me. Two boys who meet in a school, separated and each makes his life. The boy goes to college, graduate, work, marry, have two daughters and has a full life. However, the girl appears and everything begins to shake. The structure of the main character stumbles vital to the beauty and the memories that bind to the reappeared.

However, it might be, I could not start the novel. Carlos Villarino sent me a copy of his new book of short stories "The Other Hell." I had no chance to review it until late at night. I went to the rocking chair I have in the room with Murakami and the book of Carlos, the latter for review. What I was flipping several times until he appeared before me a word. There are words that inevitably bind us to people, places, times, and this is one of them. What's behind (or inside) of a word? "I look at the knees that left us exposed to the dew spins the bones," that is the line where he lives the word and the word is knees.

Every time I get it hidden in other words, the mind runs to my time at university. There was a girl who sometimes appeared with a jean miniskirt, revealing legs insulting to chivalry. Of course, my eyes are not only limited to a specific part of your legs. They tend to eat everything and almost never leave anything. However, when today I memory of those strong legs, which are more vivid is precisely his knees. So, I can not see that word and that the ghost of that nymph never again demolished in the memories. So that the knees of my nymph or knees of the girl in the story, or perhaps both, I was forced to throw the poor across Murakami and start reading the book of Carlos. The book consists of 14 stories divided into two parties. A first part where the main protagonist is the memory and a second part, which will own conflicts of modern man who take the lead. The first part consists of seven stories is a chain of nightmares. Say you are like corridors of the human mind, corridors that make up the house of a deranged mind. I have read all the first part. In the second part I already knew some stories as "Camila and the Beings of the Night" in the anthology of the city for the Orb, and "Under the Sign of Cancer" that Charles had sent me for an anthology that I made and never appeared ridiculous moral itching. And assuming that the five stories still unknown to me, are really crappy riders, the book is extraordinary. Of course, after reading his first collection of stories, "menstruation and other fluids" and going from this, I see almost impossible, that stories that I need to read are really crappy. I do not know if the book is already in Maracaibo, but it sure is still circulating in Caracas. It is highly recommended. A collection of stories where no one is spared neither the actors nor the reader nor the author. Carlos Villarino is a strong voice of the new Venezuelan narrative. A voice that must be followed closely.