kanewai's book shelf (current: italian)

[StringerBell]

Hi kanewai - I love reading your take on all the French books you've read! It makes me wish that I could read French. Do you by any chance plan to read any poetry? Even though I'm not really a fan of poetry there are some French poets (Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Verlaine) that I would love to read because I've heard a lot about their work and about them, as people - they sound really fascinating. I've never been able to find their work in translation.

[Carmody]

kanewai
Many thanks for taking all the time to review your books for us; greatly appreciated.

[reineke]

Souvent, pour s’amuser, les hommes d’équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l’azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d’eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu’il est comique et laid!
L’un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L’autre mime, en boitant, l’infirme qui volait!

Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l’archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l’empêchent de marcher.


Spesso, per divertirsi, i marinai
catturano degli albatri, grandi uccelli dei mari,
indolenti compagni di viaggio delle navi
in lieve corsa sugli abissi amari.

L’hanno appena posato sulla tolda
e già il re dell’azzurro, maldestro e vergognoso,
pietosamente accanto a sé strascina
come fossero remi le grandi ali bianche.

Com’è fiacco e sinistro il viaggiatore alato!
E comico e brutto, lui prima così bello!
Chi gli mette una pipa sotto il becco,
chi imita, zoppicando, lo storpio che volava!

Il Poeta è come lui, principe delle nubi
che sta con l’uragano e ride degli arcieri;
esule in terra fra gli scherni, impediscono
che cammini le sue ali di gigante.

https://librieparole.it/classici-letter ... audelaire/

https://fleursdumal.org/

Il viaggio

[Dr Mack Rettosy]

That is one hell of an impressive reading list

I echo StringerBell, are you a French propaganda prop? Because you’re making a convert out of us. Vive La France!

[kanewai]

Hi kanewai - I love reading your take on all the French books you've read! It makes me wish that I could read French. Do you by any chance plan to read any poetry? Even though I'm not really a fan of poetry there are some French poets (Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Verlaine) that I would love to read because I've heard a lot about their work and about them, as people - they sound really fascinating. I've never been able to find their work in translation.

I actually have a used copy of Baudelaire's Fleurs du mal (Flowers of Evil), and reopened it last week. I read a lot about him, and this work, and want to like Fleurs du mal ... and the poems are nice enough ... but they're supposed to be evil. I think I'm missing a lot of the nuance and symbolism. Or maybe the shock value they had in 1857 doesn't translate well into the modern world.

Rimbaud is still pretty cool though.

[reineke]

Le sens du titre: Les Fleurs du Mal

Emblématique du recueil, le titre associe deux termes antithétiques. Comme il le fera avec «Spleen» et «Idéal» , Baudelaire crée une tension paradoxale. «Fleurs» renvoie à un topos poétique (un élément récurrent): celui de la beauté de la nature et de la femme aimée, souvent comparée à une fleur. Ce cliché de la poésie lyrique célèbre la beauté du monde et permet au poète d’exprimer amour et admiration. Par ailleurs, les fleurs appellent la satisfaction des sens: la vue, l’odorat mais aussi le toucher. Le lecteur peut donc être surpris par l’alliance des termes «fleurs» et «Mal». Antonyme du Bien, «Mal» prend une valeur morale, il désigne le vice et le pêché mais il exprime aussi la souffrance, le mal être, la mort même. Ce célèbre titre se fonde donc sur une contradiction essentielle et révélatrice du projet baudelairien. Il s’agit de faire naître la beauté de la laideur, de sublimer la souffrance, d’envisager la réalité dans ce qu’elle a de plus sordide pour la transfigurer. Il s’y emploie par exemple dans «Une Charogne» (XXIX) qui célèbre la beauté répugnante de la chair en putréfaction: « Et le ciel regardait la carcasse superbe / Comme une fleur s’épanouir» (vers 13 et 14). On peut aussi citer la beauté paradoxale de «La mendiante rousse» (LXXXVIII): « Pour moi, poëte chétif, / Ton jeune corps maladif, / Plein de tâches de rousseur, / A sa douceur.» (vers 5 à 8).

L’alchimie baudelairienne

Une beauté qui vient du Mal, la laideur et le vice qui donnent naissance à une création idéale, un Réel transfiguré: la poésie baudelairienne se propose de sublimer ce que la réalité a de plus trivial. Dans l’Appendice aux Fleurs du Mal, le poète écrit : « J’ai pétri de la boue et j’en ai fait de l’or.» Il développera l’idée dans l’édition de 1861: « Comme un parfait chimiste et comme une âme sainte / Car j’ai de chaque chose extrait la quintessence, / Tu m’as donné ta boue et j’en ai fait de l’or.»

Ces vers appellent la célèbre métaphore du poète alchimiste, discipline antique qui cherche à transformer des métaux vils (fer, plomb) en métaux nobles (or et argent). La métaphore assimile donc l’acte de création poétique à une «sorcellerie évocatoire» pour reprendre les mots de Charles Baudelaire. Cela implique un déplacement du regard qui permet au poète de transfigurer le monde.
Avec l’image forte de la boue, Baudelaire n’ignore pas ce que la réalité peut avoir de putride, de dégoûtant, de repoussant tels un cadavre, des ordures en putréfaction, la terre « grasse et pleine d’escargots» qui nous absorbera, la fange dans laquelle on se noie, à l’image de la saleté des rues de Paris au XIXe siècle. Pour filer une métaphore chimique, de nombreux adjuvants peuvent favoriser la transmutation en or. Baudelaire fait ainsi appel au « beau matin d’été si doux» dans «Une Charogne», à la sensualité dans «Parfum exotique», au désir d’ailleurs dans «L’Invitation au voyage», au vin qui enchante le monde et «sait revêtir le plus sordide bouge / D’un luxe miraculeux», à « l’opium qui agrandit ce qui n’a pas de bornes» («Le Poison»). Car si le Réel est boue, la poésie est Or. Elle a la capacité d’extraire la beauté du Mal. Comme l’écrira à la fin du siècle Arthur Rimbaud, le poète voyant nous donne accès à une réalité que l’on ne voit pas.

https://etudiant.lefigaro.fr/article/ba ... 988366211/

Cliff notes à la française

Titre : Les Fleurs du mal

Les Fleurs du mal eut trois titres successifs :
- "Les Lesbiennes" en 1845 => référence à Sapho, poétesse grecque qui enseignait les arts à des jeunes filles sur l'île de Lesbos, dans la mer Egée.
- "Les Limbes" en 1848 => lieu où se retrouvent les âmes des innocents qui sont morts sans avoir reçu le sacrement du baptême.
- "Les Fleurs du mal" => projet poétique de Baudelaire : extraire la beauté du mal, transfigurer par le travail poétique l'expérience douloureuse de l'âme humaine en proie aux malheurs de l'existence (Baudelaire dit : " tu m'as donné ta boue, j'en fais de l'or ").
Le mal fait référence à quatre types de mal :
- mal social (être déchu)
- mal moral (goût pour le crime et le sadisme)
- mal physique
- mal métaphysique (âme angoissé car il ne croit pas en Dieu)
Oxymore : Fleurs/mal
https://www.bacdefrancais.net/les-fleur ... elaire.php

[kanewai]

Thanks reineke - All I have is a pocket-book collection without commentary; I think guides and notes like these will help immensely.

[kanewai]

Italian Books, 2014-2021

I'm in a list-making mood this season, so here goes with Italian:

1. 200 Apuleius Le metamorfosi, o L'asino d'oro (traduzione di Lara Nicolini )
2. 1320 Dante Alighieri Inferno
3. 1320 Dante Purgatorio
4. 1349 Bocaccio Decameron (Days 1-6) (in italiano moderno, da Luciano Corona)
5. 1532 Ludovico Ariosto Orlando Furioso (raccontato da Italo Calvino)
6. 1788 Giacomo Casanova Fuga dai piombi
7. 1883 Carlo Collodi Le avventure di Pinocchio
8. 1921 Luigi Pirandello Sei personaggi in cerca d'autore
9. 1935 Dino Buzzati Il segreto del Bosco Vecchio
10. 1940 Dino Buzzati Il deserto dei tartari
11. 1947 Primo Levi Se questo e un uomo
12. 1948 Primo Levi La tregua
13. 1957 Elsa Morante L'isola di Arturo
14. 1958 Giuseppe Tomas di Lampedusa Il gattopardo
15. 1959 Indro Montanelli Storia dei Greci
16. 1959 Italo Calvino Il cavaliere inesistente
17. 1962 Giorgio Bassani Il giardino dei Finzi-Contini
18. 1963 Italo Calvino Marcovaldo
19. 1965 Italo Calvino Le cosmicomiche
20. 1967 Hugo Pratt Una ballata del mare salato
21. 1972 Italo Calvino Le città invisibili
22. 1974 Elsa Morante La storia
23. 1975 Primo Levi Il sistema periodico
24. 1980 Umberto Eco Il nome della rosa
25. 1994 Andrea Camilleri La forma dell'acqua
26. 1997 Massimo Montanari La fame e l'abbondanza
27. 2010 Paolo Giordano  La solitudine dei numeri primi
28. 2011 Elena Ferrante L'amica geniale
29. 2012 Elena Ferrante La storia del nuevo cognome
30. 2013 Elena Ferrante Storia di chi fugge e di chi resta
31. 2014 Elena Ferrante Storia della bambina perduta
32. 2013 Umberto Eco Storia delle terre e dei luoghi leggendari
33. 2019 Elena Ferrante La vita bugiarda degli adulti

Italian literature has been a pleasant surprise. I only knew two modern authors in the beginning, Italo Calvino and Umberto Eco. I wanted to try reading some classics, like Dante, Petrarch, and Bocaccio. I figured I'd do half a Super Challenge in Italian and move on.

I haven't moved on. The list of books I want to read continues to grow.

A few notes:

- There are some non-fiction books that, to me, are the best in their field: Indro Montanelli's Storia dei Greci was excellent, Massimo Montanari La fame e l'abbondanza was a history of how periods of famine and abundance affected European cuisine, and Umberto Eco's Storia delle terre e dei luoghi leggendari is a beautiful book that looks at the real history (i.e., what real people believed in them over time) of legendary lands like Atlantis, Shangri La, et al. I want to read more by all these authors. I actually prefer Eco's non-fiction to his fiction.

- I didn't really "read" Dante so much as worked through the Comedy with the help of an English translation. It was still rewarding. I only read the first two. At some point I'll get to Paradise.

- Bocaccio and Ariosto were eye-opening. They were far more raunchy, blasphemous, and fun than anything I'd expect from the medieval era. And while both wrote from the perspective of an extremely gendered society, the gender roles seem much freer than what you find in English and French literature.

- The Italian translation of a Roman work, The Golden Ass, was surprisingly sexually explicit. I compared it to an English translation, and the English version relied so much on euphemisms that the shock value was lost. At some point I'd like to read more Italian translations of Latin works.

- Primo Levi's Se questo e un uomo and La tregua are masterpieces.

- Elena Ferrante is easily the most famous Italian author in the US right now. I like that I discovered her before her works were translated into English and made into tv series and movies.

[StringerBell]

I actually have a used copy of Baudelaire's Fleurs du mal (Flowers of Evil), and reopened it last week. I read a lot about him, and this work, and want to like Fleurs du mal ... and the poems are nice enough ... but they're supposed to be evil. I think I'm missing a lot of the nuance and symbolism. Or maybe the shock value they had in 1857 doesn't translate well into the modern world.

I should have specified before that I've never been able to find it translated into English. My Italian is definitely not at a level where I can appreciate or understand 19th century literature and poetry!

What are your thoughts on Gabriele D'Annuzio? I took a tour of his house near Lago di Garda years ago since it's fairly close to where my husband's parents live and from what I've heard he was a fascinating and crazy mofo who wrote some really wild stuff. If I ever get to a point where I'm 100% satisfied with my level of spoken Italian, I'd love to try to read his work. My husband is a huge fan of his writing because he's really into the Decadent movement, which it seems like you might be into, too based on what you wrote in previous posts but I could be wrong.

Since you mentioned reading Italian translations of Latin books, the Satyricon might be a good one to try. We have a copy of that that is Latin on one side and Italian translation on the other so I know it exists. I've heard that it's quite explicit in both languages.

[kanewai]

Spanish Novels, 2016-2021

Sigh. I struggle with Spanish lit. The list of books I've quit is almost as long as the list of books I've finished. When I compiled everything into one list, though, I realized that I actually haven't read that widely. I've read a lot of pages ... some of these books are well over 1000 pages ... but there's only a few authors on the list.

1. 1605 Miguel de Cervantes Don Quijote de la Mancha I (traducción de Andrés Trapiello al castellano moderno)
2. 1944 Jorge Luis Borges El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan
3. 1962 Carlos Fuentes Aura
4. 1967 Gabriel García Márquez Cien años de soledad
5. 1976 Manuel Puig El beso de la mujer araña
6. 1988 Julio Llamazares La lluvia amarilla
7. 1989 Laura Esquivel Como agua para chocolate
8. 2001 Javier Cercas Soldados de Salmina
9. 2005 Carlos Ruiz Zafón La sombra del viento
10. 2006 Mario Vargas Llosa Travesuras de la niña mala
11. 2006 Santiago Posteguillo Africanus: el hijo del cónsul
12. 2008 Santiago Posteguillo Las legiones malditas
13. 2009 Santiago Posteguillo La traición de Roma
14. 2011 Santiago Posteguillo Los asesinos del emperador
15. 2013 Santiago Posteguillo Y Julia retó a los dioses
16. 2018 Santiago Posteguillo Yo, Julia
17. 2016 Fernando Aramburu Patria
18. 2019 Mario Vargas Llosa Tiempos Recios

- There's lots of Posteguillo on here. The first two books of his Scipio Africanus trilogy were the best historical fiction I've ever read. It was enough to carry me through other of his books. No more. He reminds me of certain American fantasy authors (cough George R. R. Martin) who start strong but whose books just become increasingly bloated and meandering. I'm done with him, at least for now.

- I enjoyed Don Quijote, but even in a "modern" translation it was a challenge to finish. I read Book II in the English translation by Edith Grossman, and enjoyed it much more. But also, Book II was insanely brilliant. In the real world (our world) authors had written unauthorized sequels to Don Quijote. In the fictional world this also happened. Don Quijote sets out on another adventure, but this time he's famous, and everyone knows he's mad. They mess with him. But maybe he's not mad, and maybe he's just playing along ... it's worth a read. It's far more entertaining than the early episodes involving windmills.

- My Spanish is strong enough that I can read for plot, but maybe not strong enough to appreciate an author's style. I feel like I need to revisit Borges and Márquez in particular once I understand more of the nuances of the language.

as for the major books I couldn't finish:

• 1982 Octavio Paz Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz o Las trampas de la fe
• 1987 Fernando del Paso Noticias del Imperio
• 1994 Javier Marías Mañana en la batalla piensa en mí
• 1996 Arturo Pérez-Reverte El Capitán Alatriste
• 1998 Roberto Bolaño Los detectives salvajes
• 2002 Isabel Allende La ciudad de las bestias
• 2006 Ildefonso Falcones La catedral del mar
• 2010 Julia Navarro Dime quién soy
• 2010 Mario Vargas Llosa El sueño del celta
• 2016 Marcos Chicot El asesinato de Sócrates
• 2013 Dolored Redondo El guardián invisible

A lot of these are award-winners, and I've realized that I can't trust the major Spanish prizes like the Premio Planeto to help pick out books to read. I wouldn't have enjoyed some of these in any language (Falcones, Navarro, Chicot, Redondo). One big issue I have is that Spanish novels can be so bloated. A book like Dime quién soy would've been a great beach read at 200 pages; at 1096 pages it just got increasingly silly.

For some, I wonder if my Spanish just wasn't good enough. Fernando del Paso's Noticias del Imperio in particular seems like the kind of novel I would love. I'm also not sure why I struggled with Arturo Pérez-Reverte - his novels sound like such fun adventures. And I want to give Javier Marías another try once my Spanish is stronger.

This is where I think the first Super Challenge helped super-charge my French - that level of intense reading over 20 months brought my understanding up to an entirely new level. I suppose if I committed to Spanish in the same way I'd make the same type of jump.