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The fight to come out of the sweater is a symbol nadle the fight that takes place inside all of us, to create, to destroy, to follow social morality, to break free from it, to be or not to be. I have hulio put on that blue sweater, he thinks, something that might go well with a grey suit, autumn is all about putting on and taking off sweaters, locking oneself up, running away. Link an External Response Have a response on your own site?
The one who is reading you, is listening to you in his silence.
You are commenting using your Twitter account. But I must confess to you, reader, that I am blocked for words in my core. And he tries to do so struggling with his whole body, throwing it forward and back, turning around in the middle of the room, if this is indeed the middle of the room because now he comes to think that the window has been left open and that it is dangerous naxie keep turning around blindly.
The silence from the reader will do the rest.
The hand is the symbol of our power to construct our own lives, the way we want to, julip to our needs and aspirations. Cortazar played with imagery with such mastery, that he needed to invent words, because what was in his imagination, no one had ever named before. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. Perhaps his cogtazar hand was indeed caught in the collar of the sweater, and for this reason what he believed to be the collar is pressing down on his face thus, suffocating him more and more each time, whereas his hand was able to come out easily.
His imagination is an overwhelming example of the limitless capabilities of our creativity. Today, reading Cortazar, cortaza famous quote that I heard from one of my writing teachers, comes to mind: Thank you, I love yo read your posts.
This is a book of poems, songs, notes and letters. Los buques suicidantes Lot No.
Is it a creativity problem? Cortazar was a big fan of jazz and music and spent a lot of his time listening and playing his trumpet. Notify me of follow-up comments via email. He tells himself that the most sensible thing is to concentrate his attention on his right hand because this hand outside of the sweater cortaza in contact with the cold air of the room, a signal that he has only a little way to go and can help himself by going up the back until, in that classic movement so helpful to putting on any sweater by energetically pulling down, it clutches the lower edge of the sweater.
Notify me of new comments via email. That space, that silence where the reader hears the author, is the endless place, where anything can happen. It seemed like it would not because hardly has the wool of the sweater gotten stuck to the shirt again, owing still to the operation as well as to his habit of beginning with the other, difficult sleeve, when he starts to whistle again so as to distract himself, feeling that the arm is barely advancing and that, without some kind of complementary manoeuvre, he would never get out of here.
A life of social norms and standards that he cannot fit into and the more he tries, the more he has trouble breathing. And in so doing help his left hand with his right hand so that it can pass through the sleeve or retreat and get out, although it is almost impossible to coordinate the movements of the two hands, as if his left hand were a rat trapped in a cage and another rat on the outside wanted to help it escape.
He whistles a tango perfunctorily as he moves away from the cortazag window, then looks for a sweater in the wardrobe and begins to put it on in front of the mirror. The hands create, mold, shape.
As such, the distance between the collar and one of the sleeves is exactly half of the distance between one sleeve and the other, and this explains why he may have his head a bit tilted to the left, the side where his hand is sd prisoner in the sleeve, if this is in fact the sleeve; and, in contrast, his right hand, which is already out, moves with full freedom in cul;e air even if it may not be able to get the sweater down which is crotazar rolled up on top of his body.
It hurts too much and his right hand, in any case, would need to help instead of rising or falling uselessly towards his legs, instead of nibbling at his thigh as it is doing, scratching and nibbling through the clothing without being able to stop itself from doing so because all his willpower is contained in his left hand. It is the essence of our humanity.
He takes his sweater off and examines his hand, but now the hand is perfectly normal. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here Ironically, it occurs to him that if there were a seat nearby he would be able to relax and breathe better until he’s put on the sweater completely. His face, still part of his head, ought to stay out; but his forehead and his whole face remain covered and his arms are barely halfway through the sleeves.
Post a New Comment Enter your information below to add a new comment. It’s already late and he notices that the air is cool. Francis of Assisi St.