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United Kingdom Uruguay. Search Within These Results:. From: medimops Berlin, Germany Seller Rating:. Una prostituta en tiempos dif? Amador Hern? Seller Image. Cecilia Bandeira, a prostituta Virgem. Souza, Luiz Ademir. Margot la remendona historia de una prostituta. Create a Want Tell us what you're looking for and once a match is found, we'll inform you by e-mail. Create a Want BookSleuth Can't remember the title or the author of a book? I he rigorously inventive lyric of Luiza Neto Jorge , one of the most distinctive voices in Portuguese poetry since the s, cultivates as its substantive and instrumental lulcrum a consistent emphasis on gendered corporeality.
One of the most distinctive voices in Portuguese poetry since the s, at the time of her death in Luiza Neto Jorge left behind a body of work as compact as it is intensely and rigorously inventive. Bern, eti acho que, acima de tudo, ha entre nos afinidades que so indirectamente tern a ver com a poesia! Depois sera talvez mais facil, mais possiVel, a total reconstriigao, formas e ideias novas. Concomitantly, her inaugural volume of poetry, A Noite Vertebrada, adopted as its leading motif the rhetoric of spatial and temporal immobility destabilized by breaking loose into a freer, more fluid and unpredictable time and space.
Voii correr mundo, vou matar-me. Emancipada da noite, livre indoloridamente, minha angustia despediu-se, lambeu-me as maos. This predilection may help explain her success both in assimilating the surrealist legacy and in escaping the peril of perpetuating some of its more cliched formulas and facile venues of expression. Nao desces aquela cave onde estao os oceanos c os jLiramentos Hquidos.
Se o atomo e divisiVel so o poeta o diz. A divisibilidade da luz aclara os misterios. A mulher tern filhos. ANNA M. As Grosz comments, [Body fluids] affront a subjects aspiration toward autonomy and self-identity. Body fluids flow, they seep, they infiltrate; their control is a matter of vigilance, never guaranteed. Whether by the force of a religious exorcism or by the magic of a love philter, tears and pus become distinct substances, but, as the poem has already implied, both religion and love also provide ample ground for the confusion of these and other efflu- ences of bodily matter.
Taken jointly, how- ever, they do seem to indicate a more comprehensive change of perspective in Portuguese cul- tural discourse, from a generalized denial ol any meaningful symbiosis between feminist com- mitment and literary value to an at least partial recognition that a specifically female perspective and identifiably feminist concerns occupy an important place not only in Western literary tra- dition at large, but also — and particularly — in the twentieth- and twenty-first-century Portuguese modernity.
It is significant that such remarks have tended to appear in reviews of new collections published by women poets writing in Portugal today, most notably those, such as Ana Luiza Amaral, who openly signal their aesthetic and ideological indebtedness to femi- nism. Private jokP. Recurso ao sfmbolo? Works Cited Bachelard, Gaston.
Paris: Quadrige, Battersby, Christine. Gender and Genius. Towards a Feminist Aesthetics. Bloomington: Indiana UP, Baudelaire, Charles. Oeuvres completes. Paris: Robert Lafont, Cixous, Helene. Douglas, Mary. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, Gatens, Moira. Feminism and Philosophy. Perspectives on Dijference and Equality. The Madwoman in the Attic. New Haven: Yale UP, Grosz, Elizabeth.
Volatile Bodies: Toward a Corporeal Teminism. Guerreiro, AnttSnio. Gusmao, Manuel. Horta, Maria deresa. O Independente 29 Junho : Irigaray, Luce. Catherine Porter. Ithaca: Cornell UP, Jorge, Luiza Neto. A Lame. Lisboa: Assirio e Alvim, Kristeva, Julia. Os Dois Crepusculos. Marinho, Maria de Latima. O Surrealismo em Portugal. Lisboa: IN-CM, Martins, Lernando Cabral. Moi, Toril. London and New York: Routledge, Nava, Luis Miguel.
Alguns aspectos da poesia de Luiza Neto Jorge. Riffaterre, Michael. Semiotics of Poetry. Bloomington: U Indiana P, Rosemont, Penelope, ed. Surrealist Women: An International Anthology. Austin: U Texas P, Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. Mark Krupnick. Anna M. E-mail: aklobucka umassd. Son of man. You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, T.
Eliot, The Waste Land Escrever sobre Antonio Franco Alexandre, poeta portugues, nascido em Viseu em , e professor de Filosofia na Universidade de Fisboa, e certamente uma tarefa difkil por tres motivos de relevancia desigual. Por exemplo, Americo A. Em segLindo lugar, Antonio Franco Alexandre cria alguma instabilidade em describees de indole periodologica, assentes geralmente em criterios que registam homologias de interesses tematicos e de procedimentos literarios.
Felizmente, tais discordancias so podem suscitar um alargamento da extensao conceptual da expressao regresso ao sentido. Concordo que esta e certamente uma boa describao do muito que se passa em muitos poemas de Antonio Franco Alexandre, mas so com alguma flexibilidade teorica e que a percebo como uma describao visivelmente complementar e contigua das primeiras definiboes de regresso ao sentido. Esta recusa do cepticismo e proporcional a qualidade da experiencia epifanica que resultou da leitura do texto e que as nossas teorias poeticas mais disponiveis enquadram conceptLialmente ou resolvem nos casos mais dramaticos.
Inversamente, quando nao conseguimos perceber nada ou quase nada de urn texto, esta recusa infrutifera do cepticismo, que, paradoxalmente, nao encontra sequer um objecto conceptualmente estavel acerca do qual possa duvidar, tern como sintoma uma angiistia e desanimo extremos e o SLibsequente desespero semantico resulta numa especie de lesao da nossa integridade ontologica.
O interesse e originalidade da poesia de Antonio Franco Alexandre nao se situam apenas no problema ontologico que acabo de referir, sendo esse problema apenas um efeito colateral desta poesia. Antes se afigura, desde logo, como essencial o modo como se contesta a ideia segundo a qual a importancia. Este e, penso eu, um aspecto essencial porque transfere a discussao do poema de topicos que habitualmente relacionamos com a mimese e o modo como o texto se relaciona com a realidade ou com outros textos, indiciando de forma mais ou menos evidente a sua propria leitLira, para a questao, aparentemente previa, da natureza da propria linguagem, enquanto suporte fisico de uma coisa chamada poesia e do sentido.
Denuncia-se uma concepgao do poema e da leitura como espa 90 s de uma viagem erratica, sem destino definido nem protagonistas identificaveis, por imagens aparentemente aleatorias e convocadas por esti'mulos varios e imponderaveis. A mera sugestao desta hipotese deve pelo menos colocar o leitor de sobreaviso relativamente a um entendimento glorioso do valor da poesia, como alternativa epistemologica.
Mais do que uma recusa, diria que se trata de uma especie de trabalho de Penelope em que, no entanto, a qtiantidade de tecido que se desfaz e superior a que se elabora, como se o unico fundamento do pouco que se tece fosse o muito que, depois ou no mesmo instante, se pode destecer. O SLijeito que duvida e elidido por uma especie de autonomia nao deliberativa e precipitada que as diividas adquirem, mas que as esgota.
A pornografia e um medium que dilui os corpos e os sentidos, uma vez que opera por sinedoque e localiza numa parte a irrelevancia do todo, amputando? As coisas parecem ser, assim, mais resistentes e recalcitrances do que o atitismo e o cepticismo de que, aparentemente, o poeta se protege relativamente a elas, a sua existencia e ao que, por prosopopeia, Ihe ditam.
O fim ultimo e, como sustentarei, a dissolu 9 ao pela e na linguagem quer do poeta quer das coisas. Pelo exercicio da poesia, descobre-se que a linguagem existe enquanto evidencia material cega e muda. Como contraprova do cepticismo, a linguagem remete, no entanto, para uma recusa e um vazio. Hies sao principals sobretudo no sentido de primeiros, i. Sao principals na medida em que sao absolutamente incaracten'sticos, do ponto de vista do valor, e portanto assumem Lima autonomia colectiva indistinta que os faz presentes e principals de um modo absokito, nao sujeitos a hierarquias e igualmente dispomVeis a linguagem.
Mais do que sujeito de preferencias, o poeta e, entao, o que recebe, e nao o qtie incorpora, de forma qtiase indiscriminada. Recebe-se portanto tambem o que nao se pediu, aqtiilo em que nao se ere e considera-se interrogativamente a possibilidade de serem conjugados os elementos de uma realidade tao disseminada e pulverizada pela linguagem. Abrindo com uma epfgrafe de Wittgenstein nas Investigagoes Filosdficas, paragrafo 38, em qtie se associa o acto de nomear ao do baptismo de um objecto.
De facto, reconhecendo-se como um recipience informe e universal de coisas imprevisiVeis, como armazem nao mensLiravel, elide-se a possibilidade de reunir um con junto identificavel de interesses que confira uma forma defimVel a voz de Os Objectos Principals no entanto, acumula referencias, metom'micas ou nao, a fantasmas, a memoria, a um passado e a outras vozes.
E o que parece acontecer no poema que passo a citar e onde metaforicamente julgo poder ler-se aquilo que Harold Bloom designou por anxiety of influence. Ibdas as frases vinham do passado, o sujo biiraco da inemoria. E ja por prova sc Hxe no papel a garatuja. A Parte III deste livro e composta por vinte e sete poemas que supostamente evocam uma viagem ao Brasil.
Qiier dizer, o texto constitui-se como lugar em qtie visitar e ver se desencontram. Se nenhuma memoria nos basta. Se estamos chamando, clamando, E em nossas maos te levamos; tu nos levas. Nao e tambem facil determinar, no contexto deste poema, a quern se pede e a quern se promete, tal como nao e transparence quer o conteudo do pedido quer a materia da promessa, dada a extensao hiperbolica do pedido e da promessa. E como se o que fosse realmente importance fosse abstractamente pedir e prometer que, no entanto e deste ponto de vista, parecem ser actos falsos e infelizes de pedir e prometer e transformam o texto num exerdcio ilimitado de retorica.
Consideremos o acto de pedir, os seus eventuais destinatarios e o que possivelmente se pede. Em primeiro lugar, em Oasis, ha essencialmente dois tipos de pedido: o de se ser recebido e o de que ao eu seja dada qualquer coisa. Interessantemente, em Oasis, a alternancia entre pedidos e promessas de natureza tao abstracta, antitetica e paradoxal e quebrada por versos que SLigerem um emitico percurso por Lisboa, sem qualquer sentido ou conexao logica.
Em certos momentos, referem-se tambem outros lugares, percorridos heroicamente por Whitman nas folhas de Leaves Of Grass — Arizona, California, Mississippi, Louisiana — e a propensao e interpreta-los como destinos alternativos de uma existencia poetica. Mas que viagem e realmente esta e que mundo e este? Ja percebemos que o mundo e, num certo sentido, o mundo da poesia, o mundo enquanto poesia e a poesia enquanto mundo.
Se assim for, entao o percurso, que em Oasis se sugere, e um percurso por imagens poeticas dispomVeis, existentes, num certo sentido, fora do sujeito e as quais o mesmo pretende aceder. E um percurso por folhas. Quer dizer. Quern pode ser este sata que visita o en de Oasis, que o trata por igual e partilha o seu destino?
Em Oasis, Franco Ale- xandre parece, ecoando Cesario, lamentar o destino de pedestal, de petrificada mudez e sustentagao dos outros, do sata, que o visita e tern pelo menos dois nomes, Camoes e Cesario Verde, e dele proprio, enquanto entidade poetica que ja pode ser tratada como igual. Percebe-se entao que esta viagem caotica e alucinada, realizada em Oasis, e talvez uma viagem epica de confronto e identifica ;ao com dois poetas maiores da literatura portuguesa. Na impossibilidade obvia de comentar minuciosamente cada Lima destas historias, torna-se, no entanto, imperativa a referenda a um aspecto essencial que julgo nao so constituir um micleo de sentido comum aos poemas de Qiiatro Caprichos como tambem aos poemas de Uma Fdbiila, o Liltimo livro de Franco Alexandre.
De facto, o mundo das historias de Qiiatro Caprichos e composto por seres CLija existencia intermitente se manifesta em sistematicas descontintiidades ontologicas, nao necessariamente morfologicas. O signo linguistico e uma especie de prosopopeia ilimitada, qtie suplementa a morte e revela o aparecimento do mundo, sucessivos e qtiase simultaneos. Justamente G. Estas virtualidades de G. Se tivesse f voltado a direita, diz A. Encontraria B. Encontraria, outra vez, o homem suiq:o menos jovem, teologo, sem me reconhecer. Encontraria A. Encontraria o corpo de B.
Aos olhos de A. Quer dizer, embora, como diz Americo A. Na indecisao que se joga entre ser este urn amor narcisico, que nao se da porque nao ha ninguem a quern se dar, oil urn sacriHcio e artificio do desejo para preservar a existencia do outro, que cria dentro de si mesmo, intocada do sentimento, localiza-se a angtistia e a solidao do s amante s. Rapidamente percebemos que os objectivos de Pa nao correspondem as respostas do produto e as expectativas deste. Desejo men, em tua sede habito; meu mestre, escravo, amante, pois servimos no mesmo chao o mesmo antigo lume. Para Franco Alexandre, metamorfosear-se, transformar-se e reconhecer-se multiplo nao correspondem necessariamente, penso eu, a uma ilusao de omnisciencia por parte do poeta, a uma progressao para um posicionamento mais dramatico do que lirico ou a uma especie de osmose cosmica, em nome da poesia.
O que se passa e a silenciosa consciencia de uma solidao e de um cepticismo qtie irrompe da sistematica tentativa do SLijeito querer acreditar que nao esta so e que os outros existem e Ihe devolvem Lima consciencia da sua propria existencia. Que certeza posso ter de mim se a cada momento sinto que sou outro?
Como se pode amar, realizar a vontade de amar, se o objecto do amor se reduz e apenas se deixa traduzir nas palavras de desejo de quern ama, nao possuindo identidade ou sequer as marcas de um rosto? Ninguem melhor conhece o amor, e o desprezo do amor. Riffaterre considera que a passagem da mimese a semiotica se opera por uma necessaria suspensao das consideragoes referenciais relativamente a poesia, em virtude das agramaticalidades referenciais que o texto manifesta e que perturbam a nossa presunqao de referencia. Perante uma agramaticalidade, do ponto de vista mimetico, verifica-se um esclarecedor impasse interpretativo que implica o abandono da convieqao de que, no poema, se assiste a uma relagao entre as palavras e um estado de coisas e permite a descoberta de que afinal o que se observa e uma rede semiotica de relates entre signos.
O poema e, ultima analisc, urn continuum de tautologias, paradoxos e parafrases. Este e um argumento que D. Sem Palavras Neni Coisas. Lisboa: Iniciativas F. Os Objectos Prindpais. Coimbra: C'entelha, Forro: Cora de Agua, A Peqiiena Face. Qaatro Caprichos. Urna Fdbula. Amaral, Fernando Pinto Do. Bloom, Harold. Miguel 'Famen. Lisboa: Cotovia, Cavell, Stanley. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, Cruz, Gastao.
A Poesia Portuguesa De Hoje.
Sexo para quase todos: a prostituição feminina na Vila Mimosa
Lisboa: Relogio de Agua, L'lerrida, Jacques. Paris: Minuit, Diogo, Americo Antonio Lindeza. Modernismos, Pos-Modernismos, Anacronismos. De Antonio Franco Alexandre. Lopes, Oscar. As Cifras do Tempo. Lisboa: Caminho, Man, Paul De.
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The Rhetoric Of Romanticism. Rillaterre, Michael. Semiotique De La Poesie. Trans, par Jean-Jacques Thomas. Paris: Editions du Seuil, Trabalha regularmente na dramaturgia de espectaculos. Email: nevesnanet netcabo. The poetry of Joao Miguel Fernandes Jorge is a continuous attempt to grasp the spirit of the place: a poem is what is retained by the poet after his travels around the world. Avoiding the trap of simply describing his journeys, the poet creates images that reshape historical and geographic realities, that is to say, in his own poems he goes beyond his mere physical presence in a place to find the mysterious laws of poetry.
In his poems, he builds homes for the gods so that they will strengthen his words and images. Since the gods know the mysteries that poets want to translate into poetry, the poet follows them, enters the deep sea, searches among ruins, overhears enigmatic dialogues, and travels around the world like an ancient oarsman. Sometimes we read a poem and are astonished by its clarity, its familiar tone, by the straightforward logic that pervades it.
Is death something we choose, like we choose a poet from the book- case to read at night? The singularity of this poem is that a place is the place of poetry and that the death of Pound enhances Venice as a place. Who is supposed to be the chronicler of such a trivial wish?
An anonymous passerby who aspires to be eternally connected to Venice and poetry? ITe answer most certainly is: the poet himself The poet is the ghostlike being whose function it is to overhear the dialogues hov- ering about him. Sometimes we have the impression, as we have in this case, that the inquiry coincides with the poem — what is the point of knowing how to start a poem when the poem is already written? The poem is half-written as soon as the poet eavesdrops on a conversation, or when he has a conversa- tion with someone he does not bother to identify.
Antonello, a famous Italian painter , was not from Venice. Neither was Pound. Antonello, however, did not die in Venice. One thing is certain: the mystery of the title matches the subject matter of the poem. For now we have to divine the spirit that connects these bodies or parts. Antonello was from Massina, in Sicily. Pound was from Hailey, Idaho. Fernandes Jorge is from Bombarral, Portugal. Pound died in that Italian city, adding his poetic persona to that already mythical place. As for the Portuguese poet, he tries to overcome his belatedness by uniting his name and poetry both with those two monumental figures and with the history of Venice.
Antonello impressed the Venetians with his artistic virtuosity, by creating forms with color rather than with the usual lines. Fernandes Jorge tries to grasp or evoke the place enriched by the painter and the American poet. His virtue lies in his poem and the fact that he seemed to be in the right place at the right time. Like Eliot, he was there to capture the dialogue or invent more or less frivolous characters, that is to say, to impress by means of his poetic virtuosity.
If Eliot imitated Laforgue, Fernandes Jorge imitates the spirit of the place. More properly, a poem Is made of names and places that acquire a particular meaning because they are evoked by the poet, because it is the poet who sees everything. It is his point of view that exerts a pull on the images and reshapes historical and geographic realities.
A poem is, therefore, an overlapping of figures and places; it is what is retained by the poet after his travels around the world, after avoiding the trap of simply describing his journeys. The work of the poet consists in going beyond his mere physical presence in a place. We are condemned as it would be useless to put up doors to contain the sea. We have a body and we are not body a soul a Ireedom and we are not soul or freedom.
All of this is body soul Ireedom and what we invent discover defend. Although Pound died in Venice, even there he too was condemned to live beyond his existence, that is to say, in poetry. The poet travels and by doing that he establishes his own place. Between what is hidden to him and what he exposes, there is the place of poetry. He was con- demned to create his own place. From coffee shop to cof- fee shop, the poet intertwines the reality of his inner nature, always in motion, always creating news and unexpected paths, with the reality he sees in front of him.
Seated on a chair, he broods over his youth while he flips through a newspaper or plays with a piece of lemon peel in his fingers as he observes other customers. His dreams, his inventions are, conseqtiently, the point of view of his spirit, although it is important to point out that the oneiric part of his poetry is nothing but the amalgamation of chunks of reality. It goes without saying that both this reconfiguration and the revisitation of the cul- tural past only occur when the poet asks himself how he can write a poem with this material.
There is a daydream-like atmosphere that makes him jump from one place to another, stranger place, but the dream, the mental wandering, is deeply rooted in reality. The poem may take us to winding roads and African nights, to impossible dreams, but it always brings us back to our daily reality. It brings together geographically, cultur- ally, and historically shadowy regions; yet, those experiences are used to test the reality of the place that the poet uses as a point of departure.
In the morning, some of those sentences may form a poem. It Is an enigmatic dia- logue between the poet and someone else, an interlocutor who frequently appears in his poems. That time was abandoned but can be revisited, was forgotten but still sends echoes that permit the poet to wander over the sea of ruins. After all, he is the dreamer who is attracted by the melancholy sight of autumn leaves and ends up identifying himself with someone whose only and final destiny is to sing love songs.
He was saved from a shipwreck only to become a component of the landscape of the poem, that is, he is another ruin in the sea, living there beyond his existence. The poet chroni- cles what he sees and hears and by doing this he is, at the same time, telling the reader the way he wanted the poem to be. And we have good reasons to believe that the way he wants the poem to be is the way the poem is actually written.
Its lines are conceived in remote and anonymous hotel rooms; they bring to light experiences and voices with which we are not familiar, but the clear will of the poet helps them to reach us, or, more properly, lets us know that he was in a specific place at a precise moment. Put differently, the poet wants us to see him as a witness of a particular state of mind and also to note that the mental and physical landscapes he has taken hold of can be described with a certain splendor.
His ambition is to reach all places and all times and we, his readers, are included in these categories — we are the place and the time of the poem. Be that as it may, this outlandish world of poetry seems to be built upon doubts. Trivial doubts, for they are the doubts that emerge from daily experience, which is the most fantastic of the ruins. And each moment of the future is a repetition of the past. Hence, the poet is the voice of the past, hut his voice is subtlety covered with a shadowy aura, precisely because it materializes from his memory — it is his memory that gives shape to the memories of his characters.
As a result, the figures of the past, when seized by the memory of the poet, become a combination of nos- talgia and dislocated historic vigor; consequently, memory is also the silence and the shadow of the place where the past is evoked as a sea of forgetting, as we can see in this short poem included in By the Sea in June. This year the summer crossed Lisbon. The summer was invisible. It crossed the city and the others it took from my body memories ol your name.
What the poetry of Joao Miguel Fernandes Jorge tells us about the past is that it is a time we remember but also forget. In many of his poems, we do not precisely feel the effort to recuperate the time forgotten; instead, we expe- rience the attempt to seize the act of forgetting. What we see here is the poet assuming the role of the mental chron- icler of the past, in which History is inhabited by ghosts that dwell in aban- doned castles.
For this reason, the past is not a whole entity but only allusions lying amidst the slender, flimsy sand of History. The past is brought to the present by the act of writing the poem, but only birds, small lizards, and beetles subsist in the rocks that were once its glory. This brings to mind an idea the Italian essayist Roberto Calasso has recently stated, according to which this sort of debt to the ancient world is like a spell that frustrates our ambition to seize the whole of the past. What really oppresses us, something that also especially oppressed Holderlin, is the notion that the past will never belong to us in its entirety.
That is the spell of the past that keeps haunting our relation with kings, angels, and gods. They cross it with the trail of their names and are soon gone. Every time the writer sets down a word, he must fight to win them back. How can we be certain that the gods are still among us?
How can we recognize them? This god or ensemble of gods is coming, as is noticed by Calasso and by those who read modern poetry. No, now they are multitudes, a teaming crowd in an endless metropolis. Up to a certain point, the plasticity of the poem coincides with the nature of god to the extent that in both there is a mystery, a dramatic igno- rance of the circumstances of human and divine existence. God provides the poet with a destiny and the willingness to live the stories of the dreams. The poet lives between the laws of the earth and the order of the gods. A poem may be the earthly sign that confirms that the nature of the poet will never be similar to the gods, but it is also, without any doubt, a robe in which the gods can wrap themselves.
I he father cradles the son and we can almost hear their conversation in a church near the sea — immense is the light in the Jewish Port, the blue of its narrow bay, those who travel far from their homeland disappear. In the houses, fires are lit. The ancient place, its rocks so beloved that the eye always comes to rest on them — those who travel afar return no more.
Death deserves the son, transmitted by the father: this is the life that leads to the other life. The ash deserves the opposite, the reward for a much tattered body: the spirit is absent, it was stolen. I see no difference between that and other hand that holds, not the punished hand of the son, but a mighty glove. Humiliated and distraught; martyrdom and blood are not worth the brief hour of his time; light, not blood among wounds and pain and the lost eyes of human suffering; see the plurality of the world; light, not fire is the keeper of the heart of nature.
The holy ghost is absent and this fact cripples the Trinity — the ghost may be missing from the sculpture seen in the Museum in Angra do Herofsmo, in the Azores, but the spirit is undoubtedly present throughout not only the poem but also in the passionate expression of the Nazarene. Again, the poet himself is another kind of spirit that almost hears this most private of con- versations, the one the father holds with the son in a Catholic church near the sea the poets strongest ally, as we know , close to the Jewish port — it is from this place that those who have to leave depart, those who will not return.
As the father transmits death to the son, which puts him beyond death, those who head off are going to die only to live a different life. I hat is the reward for his dispersed, lacerated body. Although the spirit is not present, its function is performed by the soul, which is a ritualized belief in blood and martyrdom. Hence, the hand that links this life with the other world beyond life breaks through an intense and prodigious blend of gold and green. Yet, that hand also merges with the myriads of hands that are both humiliated and distressed. Their light is always accidental: [ Then they killed the king — and the king let himself be killed, Ibmorrow what will happen to the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea?
There will be always someone who sings someone who dies in a different manner. When someone disappears, the blue of the sky becomes brighter, the angels radiate with light, and at night the golden flames of the can- dles accentuate the bleak color of dead things. After the death of God and the king, the poet acquires an absolute freedom to bring them back in different forms. His ideal is to give meaning to the exact place where his trip begins.
This is, indeed, a very significant feature in Fernandes Jorges poetry — the assimilation of the poet to a different body, with a new form, always trying to find a privileged interlocutor. But times have changed and so the forms of the gods have also been modified. One thing is certain: now, more than ever, the gods are closer to men, at least to poets, than they have ever been.
It is as if the spirits that used to exist in statues and sculptures are now free to run wild in the world. Dressed in this way by Battista Moroni he left. He was short, broadshouldered. I did not hesitate. For him I drank my hurried, much too burnt coffee; and I smoked what remained of my cigar. I was also in a hurry because I had quickly burnt the days of my fire. That man, whoever he was, I saw him at the forbidden limits of this land upon the ruins of authority and throne.
Without greeting anyone as he walked he was the dark shadow that looks much like the solitary bull that runs away through the mountains of the city. Again, the site of the apparition is a coffee shop, an anonymous place along a famous avenue in Lisbon. This time, the figure that is the origin and the end of the poem is portrayed with all the details available to the poet face, hair, suit, shirt, tie. If anything, the poet wants us to be quite familiar with the physical traits of the man. There is, however, something that separates the poet from the individual he describes: while the man reads aimlessly, the poet admits that he is in a hurry, that throughout his entire life he has been running.
Fdis life is running out. Ironically, the one who is in a hurry is the one who stays there brooding over his life. Why was he at the forbidden lim- its of the earth, assuming a human form, upon the ruins of an unspecified throne? As a black shadow, absolutely indifferent to human beings, he was the mythical bull whose spirit dwells in the highest and darkest paths of the polis.
For a brief moment, though, the poem was able to describe him, to outline his bodily form, probably because he was allowed or allowed him- self to go beyond his outward appearance and place himself above the high- est shadow. In the poem above, the poet tried to be worthy of the greatness of the moment that soon would vanish from his eyes.
Be that as it may, the poem is written so that the image of these semi-physical, semi-ethereal beings can be preserved. Yet, the poem also aims to preserve the physical image of the poet and his body that lies in a hotel room and begins a sort of movement or expedition towards his memory and his past. Fie does not hes- itate to imagine himself looking at his former self FFe sees himself in the reflection of a window in a train, although he is fully aware of the passing of time, and that the flame of his life is quickly vanishing.
And that gave me pleasure In this poem, a true self-portrait with a mirror, or a double self-portrait, soul and body are a single entity. The poet is incapable of portraying himself without resorting to a negative kind of pleasure, noting that his image can- not he contemplated forever in the mirror. It is as if, for only a short moment, the soul allowed the body to be seen, which his heart experienced as a calm, subtle reward. What this and other incomplete self-portraits make clear is the absolute inexistence of a perfect image. There is always a kind of noise that impedes the image from being shown in its full splendor.
Like the gods, the poet can- not be totally seen, his existence goes beyond the image reflected in the mir- ror. What the poet observes when he sees himself for an ephemeral moment in the mirror are intimations of his own death, visions of death. For him, death is a slow business; it is the condition of History, of heroes — the death of the latter is the death of the poet, although the death of heroes, brought by oarsmen from distant regions, fuels the poems the poet is willing to devote to the mythical past.
Above all, death is for him being alone, among tourists, in a plaza, seated at a silent table, sipping coffee, looking at a blind musician without actually seeing him, mentally wandering from flower to flower in the nearby garden. This is the way his body is reminiscent of ancient monuments covered with sand. This empower- ment of the body allows it to be loaded with a cargo of thousands of images and dreams that will transform it into a succession of new and distant bod- ies, that is to say, of new and different poems.
The symbiosis of the body of the poet or the body of poetry with the images he grasps is sometimes so intense and vivid that the poet looks at him- self and what he sees is a boat, a beach, a sea. These are indeed aspects extremely crucial for the movement of the poet between different temporal and geographic categories. The sea is like an incommensurable plastic object sustained by ruins, and the blue of the water is the ideal mirror for the poet.
With one foot on the ground and the other in the sea, the poet can configure the poem as a mirage of forts, boats, and kingdoms. His temporal dimension coincides with the existence of the myth- ical boat, the boat he relies on to show him the way: I cannot think but about the boat that is going to take me away.
It is necessary that it leaves quickly white, crossing the Tagus. I Seated here, a bottle and a glass on the marble, iron table, I drink to a quay, a sun, a river to the white ship that is going to take me away. The mythical sea, with birds, sun, boats, and beaches, is an archetype of a real or invented childhood spent in the southern seas.
This archetype evolved and is now the solitary place of the poet. The sea is now a sea of images, an attempt to redeem the present time but also to comfort the navi- gator who once built his kingdom in the middle of undulating dunes.
The whiteness of memory is counterbalanced by the blue of the present time, and June seems to be the bluest month for the poet, when his sight can reach the vastness of the blue horizon. The sea provides the poet with the intimate light that breeds his silence and soli- tude so that he can imagine the noise and bewilderment of some legendary quay, with white smoke and the smell of fish.
Blueness is what makes him pay special attention, in his imagination, to the hands and arms of the oarsmen, who, with their instruments, plough the seas, following the invisible path that leads them to the time of the poet, bringing to him the sea of Herodotus. Most of all, blue is the color of his dreams — in this indeterminate space, the poet is able to go on with his obscure kind of existence, adding more mystery to his mysterious journeys. By and large, the aim of the trips is to give the poet the opportunity to confirm his dreams, it is a kind of repetition of his experience inside the labyrinth of images.
He crossed the woods.
Moll Flanders (Em Portuguese do Brasil)
I he foggy weather allowed him to wander. He did not need to go to any place. He walked aimlessly he lost himself in the fields in the water of the night. What mysterious appeal lies in the water of the night, what kind of fog is this that impels the poet to travel to its heart? To feel them is to live through the mysterious laws of poetry, or the sacred nature of beauty. When the poet shows us his own place of creation, when he admits that poetry is the inter- pretation of the past and the future, when he intertwines several strata of time, when he goes beyond himself to reunite his being with the prophets of History, when he describes the new forms of the gods, when he looks at the sea and realizes that what he sees in the blue immensity is his own dreamt-of image, when he does all of this, the poet lets us have a glimpse of the magni- fied image of his mysterious laws.
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Related Memórias de uma prostituta (Portuguese Edition)
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