Artigos

em linha directa

Tenho uma colega sentada à minha frente. Linha directa quatro metros. Tapada por um monitor de 19”. Sentada não a vejo (é pequena). Mas ouço-a – irritantemente. O som que emite é um grasnar e um zurrar demoniacamente combinados. Se isso já não pernicioso per si ainda se dedica a trautear as músicas que passam na rádio. Uma vaca a caminho do matadouro consegue ser menos dramática. Hoje, não sei como, está a ser mais colérica. Não sei quanto tempo mais aguento. Atirei-lhe um agrafo que ficou abafado na enorme peruca a que chama cabelo. Arremessei uma régua de dez centímetros que colidiu contra o monitor. Nem se mexeu. Nada de grave. Peguei no meu teclado QWERT e sem qualquer sobressalto enfiei-o à velocidade da escuridão no lado esquerdo da sua cara. Ela começou a sangrar da boca. Gemeu uns gemidos nauseabundos. Pumba e carreguei-lhe novamente com o teclado. Calou-se. E desfalecida encontrou o chão. Do teclado saltou apenas a tecla F1 que ficou languidamente pousada ao lado da sua cara. Sentei-me na cadeira vazia. E de olhos fechados esperei. Sosseguei. Esperei.

cara – 0071

Uma cara sem estilo – pois sim!

pontos de vista

Ontem estive por 2 minutos com um grande amigo que já não via há mais de 2 meses.

O que reparei, assim, de relâmpago foi no cabelo, cheio de cabelos brancos a desafiarem o que era uma cabeleira escura.

— Estás a ficar velho meu caro, cheio de cabelos brancos!
— Nem eu escapo, retorquiu gozão.

Quando olhei, mais tarde, ao espelho da casa-de-banho, vi-me com tantas brancas e constatei que às vezes é necessário ver a idade a passar nos outros para absorvemos o nosso caminhar para a velhice.

retribuições

Todos os dias a minha filha vem dar-me beijos de boa-noite. Dá um beijo e eu retribuo. Dá outro e eu retribuo. Outro e eu retribuo. Ainda outro e eu retribuo. Pimba mais um e eu retribuo. Termina encostando o seu rosto ao meu; e enquanto se afasta coloca os dedos no meu cabelo e despenteia-o. Eu tremo de exasperação, fecho os punhos e digo-lhe sempre “não gosto que faças isso”. Mas ela faz-lo continuamente.

Ontem a mesma rotina exceptuando um pormenor. Quando colocou os dedos no meu cabelo para o escangalhar ele não se mexeu. Olhou para mim espantada e disse zangada:
— Não teve piada. Por que colocas-te laca no cabelo?
— Porque a tua expressão valeu mil beijos.
— Não tornes a fazer isso pai.
— Okay.

#januhairy

Vamos ser claros: aqui esta-se perante o regresso do movimento Gina dos anos 80 e mais nada.

laura

(…) decalcara-a da última cena de Laura: um homem sozinho numa divisão quase às escuras, e Gene Tierney parada no umbral, não recém-chegada, mas recém-aparecida, como as aparições das histórias de fantasmas, não coberta com um lençol, mas vestindo uma gabardina desabotoada, com o cabelo e os ombros molhados.

Como a Sombra Que Passa de Antonio Muñoz Molina

hibernar o cérebro

Vou, temporariamente, hibernar o cérebro para uma adequada actualização de stocks. Se tudo decorrer dentro da normalidade os meus neurónios serão correctamente inventariados e indexados. Isso permitirá uma valorização do cérebro. O que é extremamente positivo, porque exteriormente a cabeça tem vindo a perder cabelo – e não existe no mercado qualquer software ou hardware para combater a fragmentação capilar.
Irei aproveitar e actualizar o cérebro com a nova ferramenta “Lançamentos Rápidos em Dossiers Internos”. Desta forma poderei executar tarefas em simultâneo sem necessidade de um reboot constante ao cérebro e com o filtro de fobia activo a anatidaefobia já não será um problema.

Importante: não será ainda possível combater a minha estupofobia.

disguise

Shampoos to wash your head.
Perfumes to conceal your smell.
Foams to wipe your body.
Body lotions to soften your skin.
Nothing to clean your soul – you can run to the bathtub, but there is dirt that you will never purge.

beau présent: elizabeth hollingworth

The sixteenth (03.09.2014) is a Beau Présent that I made for Elizabeth Hollingworth.

A girl,
a tango – latino night!
I gaze to a gaol!
I belong to her – an oblation.

I allow all:
to be beaten
to be eaten
to be a bait
to wait…

And waiting I hear
the hell.
I breathe the boiling air.
Breathing the lethal eternal
I hibernate.

In a rainbow lagoon
I battle an orange whale
to negotiate a birth.

We both agree:
the hell and I.

Hanging to the blowing
I grow…
higher
and
higher

‘Hello, again,
belle Elizabeth!’

An angel
with a brilliant bronze hair.
A heroine
in an elegant green bolero.

I not hate her when
I reborn
again
and
again… and again…
to bathing in her blaze halo.

To be together… a lethal reboot,
a genial waltz.

bottled love story by rhys hughes

It’s easier to close a drawer with a key and then put the key inside the drawer, is easier to discover the speed of darkness, than be able to make a review of a book written by Rhys Hughes. I will, however, undertake this task, but only because I live in Meridian 0°.

A way of increasing with success the number of words to a review is to add things that at first glance have nothing to do with the book but with the author. For example: who knew that Rhys Hughes in 2007 has used a bottle to send in Toledo a message to Safaa via the Tagus River? The fact that he now puts the love in a bottle means that he has a loving fixation for bottles?

1398585

bottled love story

Now seriously.

chapter: The Story Begins with the Wave

In the first 16 pages of the book was difficult for me to find that I was reading a story of Rhys Hughes; but quickly I find the words of the villainous Rhys Hughes that even dares to enter as only he knows in the story, because? and I am forced to remind his own words:

As far as I am concerned there can only ever be two characters in a work of fiction — the author and the reader. The other “characters” are just words on a page and simply don’t exist.

Rhys Hughes

The chapter “The Story Begins with the Wave” is writing in the cinematographic style. We have the narration of Amira’s [1] wanderings interspersed with the adventures of Rufus Anton [2]; at the end of the story the two characters find themselves together in a unconventional and nothing loving way – I should add.

In this chapter we have an Rhys Hughes equal to himself, irreverent, tortuous, with ideas and a structure narrative that reminds us of the inventive skills of Dr. Karl Mondaugen. We have a bottle, a chess problem (the first time I read a book with a chess problem was the “Flanders Panel” by Arturo Pérez-Reverte) and the possible existence of the sea monster Xaratan.

The story begins with the wave because

AMIRA wrote her name on the sand of the beach in big capitals and when the tide came in it washed away the last two letters first, so she was left with a question that just needed the addition of a question mark.
Am I?” she wondered.
She knew she must find an answer (…)

page 7


The first answer

bottled love story

“Perhaps I am, perhaps not” (…)

page 8

A few lines later the author reveals an important characteristic of Amira for the unfolding of the story

Amira was curious about everything and this curiosity extended even to curiosity itself. What was curiosity? Why did it exist?

page 9


The second answer
after reading the message discovery inside the green bottle send by Rufus Anton.

bottled love story

Not yet, not yet.

page 13

And so Amira turned and walked back the way she had come and to her great astonishment she found that the last two letters of her name written on the sand weren’t obliterated by the tide at all but had merely been detached from the others and had floated intact first out to sea and then back again.

Who’s Rufus, by the way? The author explains

(..) Rufus was one of those people who forget to worry about anything and he seemed to have an instinct that meant he always ended up where he ought to be, even if he didn’t recognise that final place for what it was when he got there.

page 16

And are the questions

“What is curiosity? Why does it exist?”

page 17

said by Dr Karl Mondaugen, “a mad scientist“, that continues to be what moves the story. It is, therefore, the curiosity that leads Amira to “the oldest part of the university” where “was a library full of strange books, one of which was a bestiary of imaginary animals that included an entry on the xaratan [3]. But the xaratan, of course, isn’t imaginary.

At this time we are introduced to another animal that’s a real myth the Hound-Do-You-Do; see a photo of the animal with Ryhs Hughes.

hound-do-you-do and rhys hughes

hound-do-you-do and rhys hughes

Rhys Hughes does not miss the opportunity to introduce himself in the story as only he knows

Although I am only the author of this story and not one of the characters in it, and thus must always stand outside rather than within whatever happens now or next, I am happy to state that I once met the Hound-Do-You Do on one of the rare occasions when I was drunk.

pages 19/20

Amira reveals in the following words to be a woman with a strong character and that isn’t up to handle random daydreams – lucky us the readers. I started to like her even more.

Amira said, “This story belongs to the characters and you, the author, should really stay out of it.”

page 20

Throughout this chapter we have several verbal pearls; and this is why I love some much reading Rhys Hughes

(…) For example, when the concept of ‘repetition’ was invented it was hardly of any distinction until it was invented yet again, and it fulfils its function more wonderfully each time it is newly invented.”

page 22

“He was the Half Mate on the clipper ship Toe Scissors which sailed out of Nailcutta.”
“You mean Calcutta,” corrected Karl.
“Yes, I do, but that pun doesn’t work as well. (…)

page 23

They keep appearing many surprises but it’s on page 29 which is shown the greatest surprise: a “abandoned sea” chess game where

The cannonballs were pawns, the pistols were rooks, the suits of armour were knights, the tall hats were bishops, the sea-chests were kings and the cannon were queens and some pieces had been stained black and others white.

page 29

The chess problem that Amira will solve was created by Leonid Yarosh and it was “first published in March 1983 in the famous Russian chess magazine Shakhmaty v SSSR” [4] and “it is generally considered one of the greatest chess problems ever composed.” [4]

The words in this chapter continues to flow like the ocean waves. We have the ever present of the talented and magic Rhys Hughes. And he knows how to hold the reader to a story without using glue – fantastic! And when we notice we are looking at the last lines of the chapter.

He (Rufus Anton) was only dimly aware of a woman’s voice telling him that he had spoiled the game as she was about the make the move that would result in checkmate.

page 35


chapter: The Solution to the Problem

About this chapter I do not have much to say, not because I don’t want to, but simply because I can’t. I must blame the author for the way he wrote the chapter.

On the first pages Amira and Rufus begin to interact in a harmless way, but at the end of the story about the Xaratan the love begins to reveal itself. It is difficult for me to write about the chapter because from page 39 we have two stories simultaneously narrated: one “the main” story, other “the Xaratan” story.

chateau cheval sombre de la mer

new wine brand

When reached this part of the book is indifferent summarize what’s going on and is preferable to write how Rhys Hughes found graphically, so to speak, a way to tell the two stories at the same time. He ingeniously split up the pages into two columns.
In a column there is the story, that I call “the main” in which the font used is bigger; in another column we have the “xaratanic” story in which he used a smaller font. This artifice goes over 10 pages and it works very well.
I advise you to first read the story about the xaratan, keeping it in memory, step back 10 pages and read “the main” story. I laughed at the end exactly as Amira laughed.

The two stories “mate” perfectly – Rhys Hughes did a wonderful job. You need to read it.

From this union of words and after Rufus having closed the book and for

(…) the first time he looked at Amira properly, directly in the eyes, and instantly he lost all his old anxieties and acquired a set of new ones. His mouth opened and he said:
“You are as beautiful as a goddess.”

page 47

As they say that God writes in mysterious ways, also Rhys can write about love in a different way, but consistent with his verbal traps, puns; only he can mesmerize the reader with these words:

“Then take my hand and stop me from drowning in your lovely eyes.”

page 48

“Lake of my eye? That’s singular. Don’t you mean lakes in the plural?”
“This is just one of the lakes,” said Rufus, as his shoes squelched. “No man can look into both of a woman’s eyes at the same time. His gaze will switch from one to the other.”

page 48

this is Rhys at full steam. An he even have the chance to create a new wine brand: Chateau Cheval Sombre de la Mer.

The next chapter will be equally surprising and why? Because I read

This method of telling stories without using words is an invention of Italo Calvino and to him I now pay modest homage.

page 53


chapter: The Chamber of Crossed Destinies

This chapter is the easiest to comment. Where to start?
It’s full of pictures and are the images (tarot cards) that tell the story. And of course I will not recount the plot the cards are telling. I, only, can add that just reading this chapter you can realize not only the beauty of the chapter, but also the genius of Rhys Hughes.

And that single empty space was communal to both of them, so a collision of Fates was unavoidable.

page 60


chapter: The Thousand and One Kisses

And here’s the last chapter in which much is revealed.
The author is warned, again, to stay out of the story when he’s discovered disguised into a painter by our characters?

“I thought I asked you to stay out of this text and not bother your characters,” Amira said to me in a tone of weary disapproval.

page 64

The author attempts to justify is presence with brilliant puns, but

“You and your wordplay!” sighed Amira.

page 65

Once again the brilliance of Rhys Hughes is present in every line. He does not simply tell a story; he provides the reader with visual and language jokes – we just need to pay attention to the page 70 where we are faced with the transformation of the initial game of chess on a game of seduction.

I don’t dare to recount the details of this chapter. I only add that Rhys Hughes has created an ingenious story of love and – checkmate!

The book has another unusual features not seen in other books by Rhys Hughes, started:

  • by the layout of title
bottled love story - tittle

bottled love story – tittle

  • by the existence of lots of pictures
  • for typographic diversity like this one

bottled love story

  • or this one – the book has this precious image at the beginning of some paragraphs.

bottled love story

 

infos

[1] arabic name
[2] which meant “red-haired” in latin
[3] the sea monster Xaratan was first mentioned in a conversation between Dr Karl Mondaugen and Rufus. (page 18)
[4] from Wikipedia

leonid yarosh